Those who don’t get the reference, it’s Autumn time for Mustafa, Sharjeena in Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum and/or Nofil & Meenu.
Disclaimer: Nazuk dil ke afraad iss review se utna duur rahien jitna Meenu ka college Keser Kalan se hai.
As we fall into Fall – even if it’s just in theory – our beloved characters fall along. Mustafa has fallen out of Joseph’s good books. Dr. Nofil’s izzat fell, quite abruptly I might add, while his unassuming self tended to an ailing (and wailing) high school girl. Meenu has fallen in love and made that her entire personality like any dosheeza in an Urdu digest rightfully would. Our dear Sharjeena has unfortunately fallen into a never-ending loop of, “Mustafa?! [as he takes out his frustration on her]. Mustafa mein tumse pyar karti hoon. Mustafa!? [as he unveils his evil materialistic side]. Mustafa mein tumein chor k kahin nahi jaongi. Mustafa?!”
The incredulous “Mustafas!?” followed by either of the two phrases to validate and calm Mustafa’s nerves have now paved their way to unseat ours. I also need a Sharjeena in my life who pops up magically whenever I throw a tantrum and calm my jittering senses with sweet nothings.
Nothings.
That’s what Sharjeena’s dialogues seem to be for the past few episodes.
A character whom you’ve presented as the blueprint of an empowered girl – with all the talk about her academic achievements and a job because apparently that’s the only thing an empowered woman has to show – her recent inability to vocalise anything other than validation to Mustafa is disappointing for us ladies.
Where is our validation? Sharjeena, you promised to be one of us and then you ditched us…for a loser?
Not my words. This was drilled into our eardrums, and consequently brain, through the Loser soundtrack played incessantly on Mustafa during the initial episodes. As if his mannerism and Bushra Ansari’s jibes weren’t enough – Mustafa needed his own personal soundtrack to describe his status in life. In that case, Sharjeena’s soundtrack should have gone from Cheeti to Choonti by now.
Dear readers, who I’m sure have diluted by this point because of my rant, I must assure you I love watching Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum and I love Farhat Ishtiaq.
She’s a brilliant writer who knows how to engage the audience with her storytelling. We have enough proof in the form of Yaqeen Ka Safar, Udaari, and Humsafar to not ever question her ability to create magic on screen.
She has given us two iconic pairs or ships as we like to call it these days. And in this virtual world, where a ship certainly doesn’t stand for a vehicle, this is a feat many can’t boast about on their resume. In fact, this might be the only claim that can guarantee you a job in Pakistan’s first ever Netflix production.
But I have also started believing she knows black magic. Because how is she turning basic stories into blockbusters?
Mother-in-law schemes against bahu-in-law. Boom! You have Humsafar.
Two broken souls meet in the mountains. Boom! You have Yaqeen ka Safar.
Boy marries the girl for revenge. Not so-boom! You have Yeh Dil Mera.
This reminds me of my last appearance here with YDM’s review. If you are a bit too free right now, you might want to read it and realise Aina and Sharjeena are two long lost sisters in love with a very restricted vocabulary. It might be a serious condition – who are we to judge?
Aina went around chanting, “Mein apne Agha jaan ke begunahi ke saboot dhoond kar tumhare moonh per marungi” and then she did what all of us can only dream of doing when faced with a problem like a lunatic husband hungry for murder.
She slept. She slept on her own bed. She slept on Amaan’s bed. She slept on a bed in Darya Baagh. That was Aina’s character arc. For all we know, she was secretly conducting research on how sleeping patterns differ at various locations.
Aina took, “Mein tumhare khwabon mein aonga,” a little too seriously.
We kept waiting for something to happen and only sleep happened until she woke up one day with anti-saboot revealed to her in her dream. I have to admit, the girl was onto something with all that sleep.
Anyway, we then finally thought our girl Aina will do something. Anything. She did. She decided to wilt away because Amaan uska laadla hai.
Jaise Mustafa Sharjeena ka laadla hai.
I might upset a lot of aunties (it’s a school of thought – a young girl can also be an aunty so no offence to older women like myself) here, but the only laadla in your life should be your kids or your sibling’s kids.
Yes, romantic relationships should have laad and pyaar; and Mustafa and Sharjeena’s entire dynamic embodies these two words which is amazing. Because it isn’t just Sharjeena waking up in the middle of the night to make him chai. (Where’s my Sharjeena?) Mustafa also sacrifices his coveted day-time nap to hang the curtains, fix and clean the house.
Mustafa wants a better life for Sharjeena and that’s healthy.
The way our writers often villainise anyone who wishes to become rich is so 90s. In this era when anyone screams, “Mere paas gaari hai, bangla hai, tumhare paas kya hai?” You can’t use your mommy to wiggle out of an extremely valid question.
A plot we love a lot in Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum is how your financial status guides society’s behaviour toward you.
We live in a capitalistic society and as unfortunate as it is, all grown men and women need to work toward having a roof over their head and some sort of transportation. Mustafa and Sharjeena are smartly written characters, who have the skill set to sustain and thrive. One also understands why Sharjeena got worried at Mustafa’s sudden obsession with being rich. She doesn’t want Mustafa to lose his inner child – the cute little loser.
She fell in love with that version of him and when he goes the Adeel way – in terms of money only – then Sharjeena will naturally try to protect and hold onto her comfort zone.
She’s a fighter who’ll smile through whatever curveballs life throws at her. That’s one thing all of us should learn from her. Can’t afford to paint the house? No problem, she’ll paint her gamlas to spruce up the space she’s slowly building into a home.
What we shouldn’t internalise is her ductile and malleable nature. Sharjeena, my girl, you’re a human not copper.
It is heartening to watch her support Mustafa and he also reciprocates when he feels like it. That’s the catchphrase, “when he feels like it”. She doesn’t extend that luxury to herself. She was going above and beyond to impress her mother-in-law, making it difficult for us ladies who like to watch dramas with their mothers.
The side-eyes become unbearable until you stare straight at them and proclaim, “Sharjeena jaisi nahi honi chahiye saari larkiyan unko apna khayal karna chahiye, har waqt aap smile karke kaam nahi kar sakte”, and get titled badtameez aurat jiska ghar kabhi nahi basega.
And funnily enough, this holds true for most of us, which only makes it tragic that we’re still propagating an unattainable model woman on our mass consumed medium.
What’s great to watch is that as soon as the goody-two-shoes-ness got too much for the audience to bear, Sharjeena had a breakdown and left her susraal.
Lesson to learn: Don’t discount your feelings to try to do it all and please all.
Women shouldn’t be praised for constantly being in fight or flight mode or balancing work and home perfectly. No, let them breathe. Help them wherever and however you can instead of going all, “Yaar tum parathay bohat acha banati ho. Shaadi karnay ke to bohat mazay hain.”
Nahi, in mazon ke liye shaadi karna is not the right reason to get married.
You can say it was a joke and we shouldn’t take it seriously. But can you imagine how many losers out there are now expecting to find their Sharjeenas one day who will magically transform them into a genius, cook them delicious food, dance with them, iron their clothes, decide what they’re wearing every day, and the list goes on.
Sharjeena is not normal. She’s the control in an experiment where everything is perfectly constant. Thing with this fictional wonder woman is that even when situations change drastically, she beams into the kitchen and bounces out to work.
Her ever-resilient behaviour isn’t out of character because in the initial episodes it was made abundantly clear that Sharjeena doesn’t like to disappoint.
She’s been the perfect child, student, and member of society since childhood and she’d like to maintain that record even if it means she doesn’t exhibit normal human emotions like getting frustrated, angry, or tired. I consider her need to keep it together her only weakness.
She’s the candidate HR managers dream about. Her weakness is her perfection. Her ability to work under pressure is…well, in front of the entire South Asian audience.
Her speech on not being able to identify red flags had us impressed but then she went ahead and married the younger brother because log kya kahenge ke pehle do shaadian horahi thi ab sirf ek?
Yes, it was her own decision and that is the only acceptable thing about that plot device which, if I am to believe my gut, was a forced one. This happens when you write the conclusion first and work backwards to ensure the characters reach the twist you have already decided.
That’s the difference between a Raqeeb Se and a KMKT.
I clearly remember Bee Gul explaining how she let the characters lead the way. There was no opening-conflict-conclusion template in her head; the story began with a knock on the door and made its way fluidly, meandering through different situations.
In KMKT, Ishtiaq has fleshed out the characters perfectly and their actions make perfect sense but they don’t flow effortlessly.
Mustafa is also not your normal lafanga larka.
He’s an anomaly. He knows how to code. He can earn lakhs in a few clicks if he feels like it. He just chooses not to because he has always been compared to his older brother Adeel – the conventionally beautiful and intelligent brother.
The conflict in Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum is believable and woven beautifully in the story.
Mustafa is inherently an insecure person and that has now escalated because of Rodent Rubab’s cheap tactics worth 35 lakhs. Now, if anyone even dares to help the pair, Mustafa takes it as an attack on his inability to instantly roll in gold.
Are his lashing outs believable? Hell yes!
The writer (Farhat Ishtiaq), director (Badar Mehmood), and the actor (Fahad Mustafa) have beautifully built the character and the story to the point where we flinch with Mustafa when Sharjeena’s father steps in with his judgmental eyes. We are all rooting for him.
At the same time, Sharjeena not having a dialogue with him and only placating his fragile feelings doesn’t feel out of place because that’s what he needs. But what about Sharjeena’s feelings? It feels as if the writer and director were too focused on Mustafa’s journey and forgot to add scenes and dialogues for Sharjeena.
She’s a pillar of support who is working a full-time job, doing PhD, and babying Mustafa.
But Sharjeena is happy. One can see how she’s glowing and growing in her own space.
That’s why Sharjeena’s father’s constant “meri phool jaisi bachi” pity party leaves you with an urge to reach into the screen and ask him to read the room or at least his daughter if he’s not into reading large spaces. At the same time, him trying to help his daughter or buy her basic electronic appliances is perfectly normal. If parents won’t care about their children then who will?
There should be no ego between a daughter and her parents. Sharjeena literally took, “Ab mujh pe maika ka paani bhi haram hai,” too seriously. She refuses to even eat there and her mother is also never prepared with a tiffin. Aunty, you need to read the room too!
Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum has been a rollercoaster ride for me.
I’ll be honest, I hate-watched the first few episodes because it was quite evident the aim was to get Mustafa and Sharjeena together, in one space. Once they were, you couldn’t look away.
Yes, it’s the Farhat magic.
But it’s resonating as much as it is, because of the heavy sprinkle of Fahad and Hania’s effortless chemistry and camaraderie. Often you can’t even tell if it’s the script speaking or the actors improvised. To act like you’re not acting isn’t as simple as it looks. In fact, making things look simple is the most difficult thing to achieve; and Hania Aamir and Fahad Mustafa have not only achieved this, but also set a benchmark in slice of life acting.
Is KMKT heavily inspired by Shabnam and Nadeem Baig’s old movie, Ayena?
Of course, this had to be addressed.
In fact, my sister made this revelation as we group-watched Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum. If Ayena, indeed is the inspiration, then Sharjeena will get pregnant. Her father will successfully extricate her from the chungul of pauper Mustafa and imprison her in his palace. Misunderstandings will multiply like Kesar Kalan’s population. Time will pass, Mustafa will find a Joseph who is not so evil, and boy will become a billionaire. The child will act as a bridge and Mustafa and Sharjeena will once again become Musjeena. Happy ending. No one will die…unless Fahad Mustafa decides to pull a Dhuwaan on us.
The boys of Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum are onions while girls are a linear graph with Y coordinate changing constantly while X remains constant IYKWIM.
A show that began with an achanak wedding, like all shows do, Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum – like an onion – revealed its layers and hooked the reluctant viewers like me. Adeel was initially a go-getter and with time has added one sin after the other to his resume. Mustafa’s genius and resilience has revealed itself with each passing adversity. They’re thriving on either end of the spectrum.
The girls, on the other hand, are unilateral characters with no layers. They are also on opposite ends of the spectrum with Rubab being the scheming, insecure evil step mom and Sharjeena being the perfect Snow White.
Rubab was visibly evil from the beginning and Sharjeena visibly angelic. And both refuse to budge from their respective pedestals. Would I have loved a bit of a nuance and believability? Sure, but my teenage Komolika-watching self has found comfort in Rubab’s sasti saazishen.
At the end of the day, Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum is fiction meant to entertain and entertaining it is.
It is great to see an empowered female who doesn’t need to be rude and loud to prove her strength. At the same time, she should also not be burdened with more than anyone can bear. Add to it the additional pressure of not expressing any negative emotion and Sharjeena swiftly morphs into a Dream Girl, who is frankly unrelatable, and setting the wrong standards.
A large chunk of the audience, which includes my sister, argue there is nothing for Sharjeena to be frustrated about. She has a job. Her future is clearly laid out in front of her. She has escaped her mother in law’s claws. She wants a caring husband and Mustafa has mastered the art of small acts of kindness. Basically, Sharjeena has nothing to complain about…yet.
So, why should she unnecessarily pick a fight with Mustafa over his mini tantrums? P.s. my sister might also be closeted Sharjeena – she’s the eldest daughter so…
Is Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum the most entertaining and engaging drama on air right now? Yes! Does it feel like Sharjeena is just one prick away from deflating like a balloon? Also, yes.
It is heartening to watch Fahad Mustafa evolve from Sunny Tunyo into a heartthrob and Hania Aamir from a Dubsmash sensation to a global sensation. Fahad’s monologue in the 25th episode is the kind we prep and nail only in our showers or after three working days of a fight. The pain and slight wobble in his voice when he laments over his parents believing that he can be a thief just because he’s not the richer son made us wonder how he must have felt when he was a neglected child constantly battling uncalled for comparison.
How can we not mention Hania and Fahad’s silent conversation after Rubab retrieves the money she herself had planted. There were no dialogues and yet we understood the pain they were feeling and the fact that they knew it was all Rubab’s doing. The fight left their bodies and one look conveyed that “it’s over, it’s time to leave”.
Our Pakistani dramas are going global and writers like Farhat Ishtiaq are a major reason behind it. As a genuine well wisher of the Pakistani drama, I dearly wish our stories would evolve and aren’t the reason why patriarchal stereotypes continue to strengthen and make life difficult for one gender.
Speaking of gender stereotypes, if there is one character on our television screens who refuses to conform, it is Meenu. She’s the antithesis of Sharjeena (not in terms of house chores though). More on Meenu and Zard Patton Ka Bann later (separately) because I’ve already overstayed my welcome.
Catch Up More On Drama Gup With FUCHSIA
Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum is penned by Farhat Ishtiaq and directed by Badar Mehmood. It is a project of Big Bang Entertainment. The cast features Fahad Mustafa, Hania Aamir, Bushra Ansari, Emmad Irfani, Javed Sheikh, Maya Khan, Naeema Butt and more. Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum airs every Monday and Tuesday on 8 PM on ARY Digital.
