Stories of the Month
Three Doors, Three Worlds: A Journey Through Storytelling
At Wordnama, our monthly book club dedicated to short fiction and book discussions, we’ve spent the past three months immersed in three wildly different but deeply compelling stories. From the bleak border of war in Saadat Hasan Manto’s The Dog of Tithwal, to the crumbling dread of Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher, and the surreal satire of Etgar Keret’s Lie Land—each story opened a door to a distinct world and a unique form of storytelling.
This trio of tales sparked some of our most thought-provoking discussions yet—touching on themes of human absurdity, psychological decay, and the elusive nature of truth. If you’re looking for a rich, contrasting reading experience, I highly recommend exploring these three stories this coming month. And as always, feel free to read along and reflect with us.
Discussion links are available at the end of this post.
“Lieland” by Etgar Keret
“Lieland,” a short story by Israeli writer Etgar Keret, delves into the consequences of habitual lying through its protagonist, Robbie. The narrative begins with Robbie experiencing a dream about his deceased mother, who expresses boredom in the afterlife and requests a gumball from him. This dream prompts Robbie to recall a lie he told about a paralyzed dog, among many other fabrications throughout his life. Intrigued, he visits a place called “Lieland,” a surreal realm where all his past lies have materialized into reality. In Lieland, Robbie encounters the very characters and scenarios he fabricated, such as the paralyzed dog and other figments of his imagination. This confrontation forces him to reflect on the impact of his dishonesty. The story reaches a turning point when Robbie meets Natasha, another individual whose lies have manifested in Lieland. Together, they contemplate the nature of their falsehoods and the possibility of creating more positive, harmless lies in the future. His lies still weigh heavily on him. It’s almost equivalent to sinning. Perhaps that’s also why he lacks the courage to manifest the reality of marrying Natasha in real life. In the “lie land,” it’s safe, easy, and convenient, a space where he knows his truths are guaranteed to manifest without resistance.
The central theme of “Lieland” revolves around the tangible consequences of lying. Keret illustrates that lies, regardless of their perceived insignificance, can accumulate and create a complex web that one may eventually have to confront. The story suggests that while lies might serve as convenient escapes or solutions in the short term, they have the potential to manifest in unforeseen ways, compelling individuals to face the realities they’ve fabricated. Additionally, the narrative touches on themes of accountability, the blurred line between reality and fiction, and the human tendency to fabricate stories to navigate life’s challenges.
Setting the Stage: Cigarettes, Childhood, and Coping
Robbie’s mother’s casual request to buy her a pack of cigarettes reminds us of a time when it was normal, even expected, for children to run errands like buying “king-size Kents,” a popular cigarette brand in the mid-to-late 20th century.
This one detail roots us in a particular socioeconomic and cultural backdrop. It paints Robbie’s mother as a woman hardened by circumstance, perhaps dependent on smoking as a coping mechanism. It also reflects Robbie’s upbringing in a financially struggling household—where navigating adult issues at a young age may have driven him to find refuge in small, convenient lies.
Lying, then, became a form of survival.
“What if your lies came to life?”
Etgar Keret’s short story “Lieland” begins with this unsettling premise—and ends with a deeper, more introspective question: What happens when the lie becomes more comforting than the truth?
The Lies We Wear: Black-Tie Lies and Lies That Steal
Keret distinguishes between “black-tie lies”—polished, socially acceptable deceits—and “lies that could steal,” ones that rob others of joy, trust, opportunity, and sometimes even innocence.
Take Robbie’s lie about the paralyzed dog. On the surface, it seems harmless. But in Lieland, where every lie is given form, it becomes a haunting reminder of the emotional weight he has carried—and inflicted.
We are reminded that a lie can be a performance, dressed up in a tuxedo, or a theft, robbing someone else of a moment, a truth, or a dream.
In essence, “Lieland” serves as a metaphorical exploration of the landscapes our lies can create and the inevitable reckoning with the truths we’ve distorted.
The Dog of Titwal by Saadat Hasan Manto
The Dog of Titwal is a short story set on the India-Pakistan border, where soldiers from both sides face each other on identical hills, in a largely uneventful and routine conflict. Amid this tense yet stagnant standoff, a stray dog wanders into the Indian camp. Jamadar Harnam Singh ties a note around its neck, declaring it an Indian dog named Jhun Jhun, knowing it will cross over to the Pakistani side.
The Pakistani soldiers rename it Shun Shun and claim it as theirs. The dog continues to move between the two camps, soon becoming a symbol of mockery and misplaced nationalism. Suspicion and irritation rise. One day, as the dog returns from the Pakistani side, both camps open fire on it, ultimately killing it. Jamadar Harnam Singh shrugs off its death as meaningless, saying the dog “died a dog’s death,” while Subedar Himmat Khan from the other side mourns, calling it a martyr.
I believe that to analyze the story effectively, we must first understand its context—the setting in which it was written. It was when one of the soldiers called the dog a ‘refugee’ that I felt compelled to research the background of the story.
The story was written soon after the 1947 Partition of India. Millions were displaced, crossing borders between the newly formed India and Pakistan. People were often labeled as “ours” or “theirs” based on religion, not identity.
I think, in that sense, the dog being called a refugee mirrors those displaced people—stateless, nameless, and caught between opposing sides.
Just a quick note before we begin—while we might feel inclined to draw parallels to current events, let’s try to stay rooted in the context in which The Dog of Tithwal was written, because the story has its own historical and emotional setting.– post – partition, a very specific time in history that shaped Manto’s voice and purpose.
The “India Zindabad” Moment – Why does the dog freeze?
There’s a scene when the dog, enjoying a cracker, hears a soldier shout “India Zindabad!” (Long live India), and instead of reacting with joy, it freezes, and tucks its tail. Harman Singh laughs and says, “Why are you afraid of your own country?”
The interpretation could be that it reacts not as “Indian” or “Pakistani,” but as an animal afraid of aggression.
→ It might show how ideologies don’t make sense to those not caught up in them.
The futility of war could be the heart of Manto’s message. The dog, voiceless and harmless, is caught in the crossfire only because he crossed imaginary boundaries. Even in death, he becomes the subject of sarcastic remarks – one side calls it martyrdom, the other says he dies a dog’s death. The contrast reflects the meaningless glorification and casual cruelty often present in war. It highlights how even something as innocent as a dog can become a symbol, then a target, all to maintain the illusion of war.
The war also breeds an emotional numbness in soldiers. The soldiers are resigned to their own deaths or have become emotionally detached from it and therefore become indifferent to the death of the dog. For a soldier, death is always close, lurking quietly in the background, impossible to ignore or escape. There’s no reverence attached to it and therefore, they come across as unsympathetic or even indifferent toward the dog’s suffering. It reflects how war affects people, turning them numb even to the loss of innocent life. So for me, that casual attitude toward death adds another layer to the story’s commentary—not just on war, but on the emotional cost it exacts on those who live in its shadow.
One of the most touching layers of the story is its quiet nostalgia. When the soldiers hum old folk songs or tunes from back home, it’s a reminder that beneath the uniform, they’re still human—connected to their memories, families, and culture. These small, intangible things—songs, memories—become their emotional anchor in a life that’s otherwise harsh and detached. Manto brings this out subtly, but beautifully. It shows that even though soldiers may have accepted death as part of their duty, their hearts still long for the world they left behind.
The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe
The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe is a gothic short story that follows an unnamed narrator who visits his childhood friend, Roderick Usher, at the Usher family mansion. The house is eerie and decaying, almost as if it has a life of its own.
Roderick is suffering from intense psychological distress, and his twin sister, Madeline, is gravely ill. When Madeline apparently dies, Roderick buries her in the family vault beneath the house. However, it turns out she was buried alive. She reappears, leading to both her and Roderick’s death in a final moment of horror.
As the narrator flees in terror, the mansion itself collapses, symbolizing the literal and figurative fall of the Usher family line. The story blends elements of madness, decay, and the supernatural to explore themes of fear, isolation, and the power of the human mind.
The story reminds me of another tale and the only other story I remember of Poe called The Cask of Amontillado. It’s about a man who tricks his enemy into going down into an old underground burial tunnel/vault and then traps him there forever.
Links to the discussions –