Cross Ethnicity Marriage: Yay or Nay? Biryani Has Opened A Pandora’s Box Full of Questions. But Will It Give Us Some Answers?
Biryani is giving us a story that peels back the layers that reveal our judgements, biases and preconceived notions about each other’s ethnicities; despite living side by side, sharing the same ground we walk upon, the air we breathe, often, the same walls, as neighbours greet each other on the street outside their homes, and send home-cooked foods, recipes handed down over the generations, to their neighbours, do we still believe we’re different enough to never totally inhabit each other’s homes, to live, love and build a family together? And while we all stand as one in this home called Pakistan, we also mark our own red lines which we are hesitant to cross – Punjabi, Urdu Speaking, Pathan, Baluchi, Sindhi, Memoni, Gujrati – the list is as rich as it is limitless. But what makes us look at the differences between us more than the similarities, the negatives more than the positives, and how can this distance melt away eventually if ever?
Through love. Answers the storyteller. Falling in love with a person from another community, a different ethnicity, who speaks a different language, wears different clothes and cooks a different recipe – that’s how you make it all come together. Nisa and Meeran’s characters, unknowingly, might be doing just that.
From Shamsi Sahab telling off Nisa, to her bursting into a relentless flood of tears in the aftermath, from Gul Mehar sending Nisa a Sindhi jora, to her family contemplating a return gift that spoke about their culture, from a glimpse into ‘Culture day’ at Nisa and Meeran’s college, which somehow, semed to show more of Sindhi than Urdu-speaking culture, (we’re hoping we see more balance later), and mammoo chaperoning Nisa on her village trip, Biryani gave us quiet messaging on the seeming celebration yet stark isolation of cultures, reckless young love and its consequences, as well as a lesson on the challenges of the middle class navigating big city life.
When Shamsi Sahab reprimanded Nisa in an indirect way, she got it. Ramsha’s expressions, her sense of embarrassment, her anger and pain at being called out this way, pulled unforgivingly at her inner self respect. Nothing she had ever experienced matched up probably. This independent, rational, sensible girl who never thought she’d ever fall hopelessly in love, would ever put herself in such a vulnerable position, was broken. “At home, resting her head in her mother’s lap, she cried miserably for every shred of respect she felt she had lost in that brief moment when Shamsi Sahab told her off. It was perhaps, the most painful, ‘the deepest cut of all,’ to quote Shakespeare in Julius Caesar.”
As writer Zafar Mairaj explains it: “This crying was the helpless crying of a young person in love, of all those people who fell in love and were opposed by the system, the society they inhabit, when you are reminded of your position in society – because mohabbat – love makes us fly, it makes us soar, and when Nisa cried, it was as if someone had hurt her so deeply, pulled her down from that pedestal of love, when she was judged on her background, her standing in society, and where she came from.”
The scene spoke in so many languages – the trust and comfort of knowing a young girl could go to her motherwhen she felt broken inside, the agony and pain her mammoo and mother felt for her suffering and her mammoo, later confronting Shamsi Sahab for an explanation, always a family, always supportive. And the way she pulled together later, the confrontation with Shamsi Sahab where he showed them their picture – both Nisa and Meeran innocently assuming that Shamsi was the worst of their problems, whereas, in reality, was his advice well meant and possibly, wiser than they both acknowledge now?
It was good to know that Nisa’s family is aware about the gossip circulating in college about their relationship. The drama drops the subtlest messages through Nisa and her mother’s relationship that communication is the key to close relationships between young adults and their parents so that they are confident in the knowledge that they are never alone.
But against this backdrop of young love, trying to keep a distance from each other yet wanting to stay together, is another story playing out, a bigger story, one that involves Gul Mehar, Baba Saeen and Mamoo’s conflicting perspectives on life, and Rashid bhai’s obstinate assumptions – a messy mix of vastly different ethnic backgrounds, language, culture, lifestyles and expectations – can these two cross the divide as millions before them have failed, and very few succeeded?
This is what Biryani is possibly all about. Can love win over caste, creed, culture, language and most importantly, a lifelong bias and mistrust against each other’s communities?
When Mammoo and Baba Saeen met, it was two cultures colliding into a crash course in Urdu and cultural misgivings – Baba Saeen marked by his eloquence, wit, and hospitality, and Mammoo, marked by his discomfort and preconceived notions (not always misplaced, yet overly generalized as a blanket labelling of all people who hail from Sindh), that marked a courteous yet sharp exchange of words. Baba Saeen’s poetic spin on the loves of his life: Marvi, Marwari and Mona, spun a tale that impressed even Mammoo’s quick wit. And then, the manner in which Yousaf Bashir Qureshi delivered the interaction – crisp, well-spoken flair delivered in ‘shusta’ Urdu – “Zabaan se ishq karna parhta hai, agar aapne zabaan seekhni hai tau uskay ishq mein giriftaar ho jaen (one has to love the language).” Baba Saeen’s character dropped pearls of wisdom with a quiet hospitality that his ancestors are known for.
Mamoo thoray meter hain. Gen Z learnt a new term here and somehow, it might just stick. But while Mamoo might be a bit crazy, he has good reason to be perhaps – the migration of his family and his forefathers to seek a free land has left many dreams unfulfilled and unrealized, a future that seems as dark and bleak as the past he left behind, and he blames a whole lot of it on the man and everything he represents sitting before him right now. While it was easy for Baba Saeen to advise: “Hijrat ki yaad mein zindagi nahi guzarni chahiye,” one questions from the other side that it is perhaps only a matter of time when Baba Saeen peers at life through Mammoo’s lens and all those who struggle to piece together an honorable existence in a large, sprawling city such as Karachi.
The conversation between these two carried the beginnings of an interaction that will hopefully help change perspectives – on both sides. Both Mammoo and Baba Saeen are the flag bearers of their respective communities – how can they both benefit from this exchange of ideas? That’s for the storytellers to reveal in later episodes.
Mammoo vouching not to leave Nisa alone and accompany her to the village was a great message. Nisa and Meeran deciding not to visit together was also a leap in their relationship – more mature and less childish. Whether they admit to it or not, Shamsi Sahab’s warning has hopefully taught our hero-heroine (and all young lovers) a precious lesson – being careful rather than careless in love is what might save your relationship for now.
Meeran announcing confidently to Shamsi Sahab that the two of them plan to get married, though a bit rushed, spoke of his sincere feelings. But is sincerity enough to ensure a ‘happily ever after?’ The two of them coming to an agreement over the time frame of it was a great message for young girls not to lose themselves in love and remember not to give up on their dreams.
But will Nisa be able to pursue her dreams and her love at the same time? Meeran is the only son in a dynasty where political careers, land, power and influence hold more value than young love. And a young girl like Nisa, who does not even share his ethnicity might come as a grave shock for Baba Saeen, not one he will be willing to compromise on in his grand plans for Meeran’s future.
The mystery between Gul Mehar and Meeran’s relationship is about to be revealed and not in the best way for both Meeran and Nisa’s relationship. But has Biryani bitten off more than it can chew? Can the storyteller’s sincere desire to see a more homogenous, accepting, enriching pot of multi language and ethnic cultures living happily ever after in a nation that often prefers to live within the boundaries of its own ethnicities, the nation’s inhabitants uncomfortable and distrustful of each other’s cultural identity, to step out from behind their safe zones and give love a chance?
Biryani is telling a gripping story. Tell us what you loved best about the episode!
