Dil Wali Gali Mein Unpacked: Hey Deeju, You Had Me Until The (Un)Attached Bathroom

Dil Wali Gali Mein kicked off with a bang just like Ramazan nights – sweet, savoury, chatpatta like your favourite fruit chat mixed with chana chat, and a whole lot of ahem – Jam e Shereen. Vim dishwashing soap and Sun Silk shampoo made more than a guest appearance but, who’s counting?

Hey Deeju, You Had Me Until The (Un)Attached Bathroom, But Then Things Went South…

When the Deejus and Mujjis of the world tuned in for their post iftar watch, they also spotted a Tamkinat, failing her Ishtiaq, Bilal, not failing his Deeju, Durdana, mimicking mothers-in-law who need a crash course in modern day toxicity, and Lubna, following suit. Then there’s Cookie, the twisted ‘sister’ yes, pun intended, just dedicate a heavy metal song to her and you’re good, Dablu, the smooth extortionist, Anwar, the loyal friend… until he wasn’t, and Sakhi, the gangster who turned soft, followed by Hitchki, the ever faithful. But of course, the Dil Wali Gali Mein family can’t come full circle without Shazia – the heroine who saves the day, and Faiza, who’s her Robin (get Batman and Robin, though no connection there, but whatever, they fly, these two, for all the ‘right’ reasons)!

On a side note, Shazia and Hamza would fit in beautifully into the Mujji and Deeju household but then, our star crossed lovers – Mujji and Deeju had all the more reason to make their elopment x court love marriage work as all they had was each other – both their families had their heart set on the perfect match for them and that alone, a common adversity, should bring a couple closer to each other, which it did, till they drew apart, or atleast, Deeju did…

But let’s do a bit of Ramazan throwback first, after all, that’s where it all started! So grab your Jam e Shereen as I add a shade of red to the Dil Wali Gali Mein story – well, not me, but the red audiences spotted when they noted Deeju doing all the things they didn’t want her to.

Following which, the Ramazan fest started to fade away very soon for some of us. While many tried to hold on to the final vestiges of Ramazan dramas, others mourned a silent death and turned to Netflix, or, better still, Ramazan talks on spirituality that picked up the lost children from the dramas and directed them towards more meaningful pursuits – spending the month the way it is meant to be spent, in worship, piety, charity and… far from the idiot box translate, Ramazan Transmissions – the clear winner as always was Jeeto Pakistan, the only script that reigns supreme because well, there’s no script, just one hero – Fahad Mustafa who performs every time.

Point to note: It’s about time Fahad tried his hand at a Ramazan drama, Fahad if you’re reading this, here’s an idea to toy with!

But I digress from Dil Wali Gali Mein and Mujji and Deeju’s world. So, let’s dive back into the drama that slow-burned itself into hearts, only to leave some with a mixed plate of doubts, and others, still rooting for the story.

Divided much?

But that’s to be expected. We have yet to come to a universal definition of what makes a Ramazan drama click, but one thing’s for sure, it must have comedy, family, and Jam e Shereen! The last one hit the spot, the first two worked hard, some nights the iftari was deep fried pakoray and jalebi, like when Deeju and Mujji got the better of their family and pulled out the CCTV from in front of the (un)attached bathroom, and when Bilal, Deeju’s father, stood like a rock, supporting his daughter’s decisions. There were also evenings when Dablu and Cookie swap toxic places with Tamkinat, Lubna does virtually nothing to restrain her offspring and Durdana nurses her silent ego, missing her son but from a distant.

Then there were others when the pakoras didn’t quite hit the spot, for instance, when Durdana let drop a tasteless rumour about why her old and only fauthful Ishtiaq left her, (even dark characters deserve a shade of grey, and Durdana let us down), Anwar turned against his best friend and appeared in court labelling allegations against him, (we wondered if there’s a plan up his sleeve, but we’re yet to uncover it), and Deeju refused to communicate let alone talk to Mujji or her dad about what’s really bothering her.

Dil Wali Gali Mein played multiple characters, and while we absorbed the fantastic origins of Mr. Sakhi, we also smiled at the tongue in cheek retorts of Anwar coupled with the most genuine friendship we’ve witnessed in a long time… until it wasn’t. Ishtiaq warmed our hearts with his steady support for Mujji and even Shazia came through as the character with a journey. So did Tamkinat and Durdana – both learnt from their past ego battles, and Cookie too, who ultimately proclaimed she had read Mujji all wrong.

“Then what’s the problem?” Ask the creators. “If all’s well that ends well, what’s all the fuss about?”

Is it Deeju? Really? What could a young girl who merely wanted to live in a space with an attached bathroom have to do with audiences raging mad at the character? Was it because she’s too angry, too unhappy, too difficult, too demanding for poor considerate, compromising Mujji?

Did Mujji come off as too good for his ‘better half’ (yes sarcasm intended)? Mujji who slept in the warehouse, who left his mother’s home for her, Mujji who worked two shifts to fulfill Deeju’s dream of an apartment of their own, Mujji who nursed his mother through angina and also a slap from his wife in public – was Mujji too good for Deeju? Or was Deeju not good enough, understanding enough, palatable enough, as someone said, for viewers.

But wait a minute, let’s rewind that. Mujji, the too-good-to-be-true Mujji finally turned a shade of jealous when Hamza dropped into the picture. Every time, in fact. Mujji did not, could not, tolerate his presence in Deeju’s life, and while Mujji was perfect in every compromising way, this was one interaction he fell short – so Mujji had his mix of ‘real’ in the equation.

“Then they’re even, right?” Respond the creators. “If Deeju has her flaws, Mujji does too. Why are y’all raging mad at Deeju then?”

But let’s begin at the beginning… again!

Dear Deeju, you had me with the attached bathroom, I was listening and invested and rooting for you. I heard you when you started working to help Mujji cover the apartment installments, you had me when you tried to wrangle a room from your brother and sister to let your husband sleep at night, and even when you sat at the top of the staircase and cried with him, your head on his shoulder, grabbing a few heartfelt moments with the man you loved. You had me when you defended him before your entire family too. Incidentally, you even had me when you told Mujji you’re not sharing a bathroom with him in their new apartment.

That’s how much I rooted for you.

But then…

You started blaming him for losing the apartment, the sleepless nights, the endless rat race and the Shazia connection. And while you were totally transparent about your interaction with Hamza in front of Mujji, Mujji, dear, ‘unfaithful; Mujji pulled a blinder on you and not only helped Shazia with a sprained foot, but also took a loan from her and kept it a secret from you. But was this big enough for you to file for divorce in a fit of rage without at least talking to Mujji once, and also ask your sister to bear witness to the lies you accused him of.

After all, it was you who had pushed for that apartment, which was clearly beyond your budget. And yes, although Mujji shouldn’t have taken the loan from Shazia, did that tantamount to a sin great enough to file for divorce, without even giving him a chance to talk it out. Or even, confide in your parents whose house you were living in?

Is this rage or a darker shade to your personality, one that will stay with you every time you fly into a temper, or every time Mujji disappoints you?

Will Dil Wali Gali Mein have a season 2 which will finally show us Deeju’s journey? It was strangely present in its absence here, we’re taking notes.

Dear Deeju, disappointments are a part of marriage, just like proud moments, they walk hand in hand, and although we loved your spirit to never give up, what you did right now was, in essence, give up. Agreed you were hurt. But there is a fine line between hurt and trust. What Mujji did by taking the loan without your knowledge was wrong, but not disloyal, and you should know Mujji better than that, just like you know you will not cross the line with Hamza. Worse still, you should talk to Mujji instead of allowing your rage to take you to court. A bit much don’t you think?

You also maligned in public, the very person you professed to love, and now, if you expect me to say this is a Gen Z woman who knows her mind, and her right to rage, speak her mind and have a melt down as she pleases, I would say – that’s all well and good, but what about the man who deserves more from you. Your rage can be directed at your siblings, who failed to support you, your mom, who failed to mentor you or even your mother in-law who failed to support her son in his choice of life partner. Your rage can also be directed at Mujji for not coming clean about the loan. But your rage needed to be tempered, right?

“Aah, women, we expect so much from them” – respond the creators. “But that’s not us, always wanting our heroine to be perfect. Well, take Deeju with all her imperfections, unjustified rage and divorce proceedings – It is Women’s Day month after all!”

We’ll let that one slide…

But back to Mujji the near perfect (we haven’t forgotten Hamza), self-sacrificing soul who never flies into a rage – was this a role reversal? Was the writer playing with our pre-conditioned definitions of husband and wife  – turning a traditional relationship on its head – take that young men, you can have a wife like Deeju who can be irrational, angry, demanding and unreasonable all at once – a woman you can still fall in love with, despite all her flaws?

You realize we’re playing the guessing game here as the story was open to multiple interpretations and a game of: What do the storytellers really want us to take away from the story?

But just as we tried to digest all that and enjoy the neatly tied up end, comes the drop scene, when Mujji and Deeju finally reunite and the voiceover preaches that instant Khula and divorce are not the way out, that marriage requires us to talk things out, ignore the many road bumps that jolt us often enough along the way, but in tandem to the messaging, the script also hands Deeju her dream apartment…

What just happened here?

Would Deeju have agreed to the divorce if she didn’t get the apartment, would Mujji forget all the slander she aimed at him, would they both live happily ever after, well, because, that’s what young couples do, right? They file for divorce, at least the young, raging wife does, despite the calm, supportive, patient husband imploring her not to, and… in a perfect universe, they both forget all the bitterness they endured with each other and live happily ever after – yes the sarcasm is loaded and intentional.

In retrospect, was Dil Wali Gali Mein a dark comedy, a satire, a message-driven drama, or merely a Ramazan drama – a world full of Jam e Shereen with all of us, just living in it? But a dark comedy does not give a heavily worded message at the end, a satire plays it dark(er) and lighter, or so we have been given to believe, a message-driven drama is not so dark, and a Ramazan drama has many more comic moments? Oh dear, the confusion!

In Deeju we saw a young girl who knows her mind well, but then we also saw an inconsiderate, inflexible angry young girl who errs in decision making, yet has the grit to hold out against all that life throws at her but then again, buckles under pressure and tortures the very person who has turned his life upside down to protect her and keep her happy.

In Deeju we saw a girl with zero character arc, if not a regression. And while we celebrated Tamkinat, Durdana, Cookie and even Shazia’s arc, we loved the positives in Bilal, Deeju’s father, Ishtiaq, Tamkinat’s husband, Sakhi the soft-hearted gangster and Anwar, the once loyal friend, (interesting they’re all men, coincidence much?), we failed to see Deeju rise.

If the makers wanted to play a version of a heroine who breaks the glass ceiling, pushes the envelope, is defiant and unchanging, they might have succeeded. But if they wanted to send us the message, as in the final voiceover, that young couples must work it out before bringing their relationship to the brink of divorce, the message was lost somewhere along the journey.

Dear Deeju, you had us until the (un)attached bathroom, but everything in between fell apart – maybe because Ishtiaq, Mujji and Bilal outdid their characters, and as one viewer called it, the writer was a bit kanjoos with Deeju’s character, or rather, as I would put it, a bit too generous with all the others.

Catch Up On The Latest Drama Gup Here:

Dil Wali Gali Mein aired daily at 9 PM on HUM TV during Ramazan! Written by Zafar Mairaj and directed by Kashif Nisar, the drama is produced by Momina Duraid Productions. The stellar cast includes Sajal Ali, Hamza Sohail, Saba Faisal, Saqib Sameer, Uzma Hassan, Munazzah Arif, Arham (Child Star), Maham Naz, Abid Ali, Adnan Ali, Jannat Ul Firdous, Gul Mehar Bano, and others.

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