It all started with me walking into my local clinic for a scheduled appointment. The young girl at the desk, chatting with me in perfect German and English (I live in Switzerland, hence the foreign lingo), decided to ask me all of a sudden: “Where are you from?” And that was the question that launched a thousand thoughts! Read on Pakistani drama fans, this one’s for you!
To carry on with the story, I proceeded to reply that I’m from Pakistan, expecting her to respond with and “I’m from India”. But she went on to ask which language I spoke – “Urdu”, said I. And then, in perfect Urdu, she says: “Oh, Mujhe bhi Urdu/Hindi bolni aati hai.”
Acha, where are you from then, I quizzed, expecting the reply I predicted to spill forth, but not expecting what I heard: “Sri Lanka, Jaffna!” She replied, casually. In my short travel history, (Which I believe to be quite long till I met some well travelled folks), I recall my visit to SL and was pleasantly surprised by her flawless Urdu accent. “Oh really”, said I, visibly surprised. “But your Urdu is so good, how come?” To which she says: “Oh, I watch shows and serials online.”
This was getting interesting. Me, a Pakistani from Karachi. She, a Sri Lankan from Jaffna, bonding over Pakistani dramas? Aha, I thought, this is my expertise. “Sooo, you are watching these days, I believe,… (and the latest drama pops into my head), Kabhi Main Kabhi… ” but before I could finish my sentence, the young Sri Lankan girl standing before me replies instantly…
“Kaun? Murtasim???”
Whoa! I did a double take. What was that?
And she smiled a broad, happy smile. “I watched Tere Bin”, she said. “I love Murtasim!” And now, me, smiling broadly too, couldn’t contain myself and continued to launch into a debate of sorts on the Pakistani drama scene, of course, Wahaj Ali’s name came up more than once and we parted with my SL (now) friend, imploring me that she wants to meet him, at least once in her life!
Cute fan meet that, I thought. But the interaction made me think of so much more.
Firstly, it was great to be greeted by a non Pakistani who didn’t want to know about the political situation in my country but was totally in on the Pakistani drama scene. Secondly, she spoke the language effortlessly, and if you know anything about relationship building and understanding cultures. language plays a part (lead role). And so, just like that, the miles between us dropped away as she carried out the entire procedure in the clinic; from testing my blood, injecting a drip, filling out forms, all in Urdu. Thirdly, there was an unspoken regard she wore in her eyes, her mannerisms, her conversation where she spoke to me as if she knows me forever – Pakistani dramas? You bet! They just bridged the divide and crossed oceans and foreign languages and made two absolute strangers come together to bond on a topic that unites rather than divides.
For once, I found myself, not defending my religion, or culture, or politics or economy, but merely, dwelling in the moment, flitting from Kabhi Murtasim to Kabhi Merub in a matter of minutes. Proud moment there? Perhaps. But more importantly, a moment that spoke to me about the power of Pakistani dramas beyond Pakistan.
Pakistani Dramas: Bringing the World Together Through Love, Tears, and Drama
When it comes to entertainment, the Pakistani drama industry occupies a very rare place in the global diaspora of audiences that relate to a story penned by a writer sitting in a remote village in Pakistan, executed by a mind that lifts magic from between the pages, magically transforming the story from pen and paper to a multi-dimensional saga onscreen, and then, the producers who help bring the story to viewers in every town, village and beyond borders, to fans not only in South Asia, but now, much beyond – China, Turkey, and European communities.
If Murtasim’s shawl became a style statement, so did Khirad’s black angarkha, if Zindagi Gulzar Hai sparked conversations, so did Noor Jahan and her specific brand of saas-hood. And this is how people are becoming aware of Pakistani culture, language and the lifestyles we inhabit. But, I argue now, do Pakistani dramas really depict our culture and lifestyle or merely paint another version of Pakistan, a not so real one, just like the terrorist-ridden nation narrative we try hard to rid ourselves from?
Are Pakistani Dramas Portraying Our Culture Too Perfectly Unreal?
Is our culture also being portrayed in an unreal light? Do we actually have Murtasims and Dr. Nofil’s walking amongst us? Oh well, one could argue, we don’t have Rahul in India either? Settle the debate?
Not really. Because see, here’s the problem.
Did you know that mothers in-law have resorted to calling their grandsons Ikhtiar Shah? I kid you not. I have been told the tale. “Mera Ikhtiar Shah, mera burhaape ka sahaara.” is a dialogue repeated by a desi mother in-law in not so desi land, where the power of Pakistani dramas hits a new high, or low. Upon hearing of this phenomenon, I just wanted to ask the mother in-law in question if she had, indeed, watched the drama to the end and appreciated the plot twist?
Case in point: For every Ashar, there must be a Dr. Nofil, for every Noor Jahan, there must be a Shahana (ref: Suno Chanda), in fact, every character will offer up an impression of Pakistani society, the one we don’t spot on our TV screens when the news comes on, the one we’d like our international audiences to believe is the real Pakistani? Because though we have zero control over the news (one might argue), we do over our stories, right? Because though we know there are no Rahuls in India, (okay, maybe a few, but not enough), Rahuls come along once in a few years, but Hamza (Mere Humsafar), Dr. Asfi (YKS), Mustafa (KMKT), Murtasim (Tere Bin), Noor Jahan (Noor Jahan), Safeena and Noor Bano (Noor Jahan) the list goes on, come by often enough and then stay on our TV screens for a good few months; enough to shift mindsets, serve up dreams and a whole lot of real life goals before they bid adieu.
In effect, the Pakistani drama scene is the gateway to Pakistani-hood, a soft-sell on our culture, people and lifestyles; and possibly, the virtual tourism industry that spreads goodwill, many hours of viewing pleasure, laughter, some tears, but above all else, unites a diverse audience in rooting for Sharjeena, Mustafa, Murtasim, Merub, or even Meenu and Dr. Nofil.
As well as, ahem… teach the language?
Responsibility much?
With Great Pens Come Great Stories—and the Responsibility to Tell Them Right!
When we write and act, and tell our stories, we are, in fact, exporting a culture to a home that has never met Murtasim, or Mustafa, Sharjeena or Safeena, but who might fall in love with these characters, believing them to be as Pakistani as all of us.
Kabhi Murtasim, Kabhi Merub: Are Pakistani Dramas the virtual tourism industry we can’t ignore?
And hence I ask Pakistani drama fans, Kaun, Murtasim? Do you know him? Is our soft-feel Pakistani hero winning hearts the world over and, more importantly, have you seen many more like him around?
While our dramas are walking miles, spreading smiles across the globe, this from a well wisher who’s deeply invested in our stories: With great power (and influence) comes great responsibility. Nod your head if you agree!
