A woman is the toughest species on this planet. The world throws her a curved ball and she hits it for a six. From feeling unwelcome at birth, even before she could know what to feel, to being treated like a secondary option to her brother, being denied education, asked to cover up lest she be too provocative, from being asked to say yes to a forced marriage or a forced proposal, to letting go of her dreams, this woman becomes a wife and mother, a helper, a cook, a daughter-in-law and then, a mother in-law…
And this is the same woman who gives birth to the sons and later, men we raise in this society.
It all comes full circle, and so, we come back to men’s Mental Health Awareness and what a woman, a mother, who is responsible for raising these men, provides to these young men when she is barely able to fully tend to her own mental health.
Don’t we always advocate that self-care comes first? That we can only help another when we help ourselves first? Remember the stewardess in the airplane who advises you to wear your oxygen mask first before you help the person next to you, even if it is your own child?
Then how do we do this, I ask every woman? How do we raise responsible, emotionally sound, mentally stable and caring men in a world where we are devoid of the same ourselves?
How do we ensure that the man who walks out of our home today, to pursue a dream, a career, a married life with another woman, is of sound mind and emotional health; competent enough to care for his future family.
Parenting fails is a thing.
But wait a minute, a woman is not and should never be alone in raising this man who ventures into the world often battling deep complexes, inner rage, insecurities and a sense of not being enough.
Thankfully, or unthankfully, she always has drama, literature, stories,that help raise the future generation. These Art forms are not mere characters in a book or onscreen, they sweep into our minds, take over our subconscious, and often, we find ourselves mimicking their actions, their voices in our head. If Zoya from Tanhaiyan could be us, then why not Asher from Humsafar. If Meenu from Zard Patton Ka Bunn could inspire, then why not… wait for it…
Kabir and Riya from Mann Mast Malang? Shabrez and Meher from Rah e Junoon or… Merub and Murtasim from Tere Bin?
Get the drift?
Our youth is hugely influenced by dramas, but what if they’re the wrong ones? How does that play out for men’s mental health. And how do women, mothers who try to raise responsible human beings, battle this perpetual onslaught of toxic heroes, telling their son – nahi beta, this doesn’t happen in real life!
This is not to say dramas (and shows) can’t teach us the good stuff.
Remember Adolescence on Netflix? It showed us what a messy male mind can do to a boy as young as 13-year-old Jamie Miller. The pressures of growing up in a world that expects the world of you is certainly a reason that messes with young impressionable minds.
Adolescence is a lesson in men’s mental health awareness, a wakeup call and a loud one, that considers all the emotions a young man might go through today – under confidence, rejection, anger, rage, confusion and a resulting psychotic personality that is hard to overcome, even for the sharpest mental health counselor.
But where shows like Adolescence tend to heal, or help the men’s mental health debate by leaps and bounds, our very own Pakistani dramas, the stories that resonate with audiences who often see themselves in it, even if they are mere shades of us, have perfected the narrative of angry young man – handsome, take-charge, no-nonsense, donning a leather jacket, falling for a woman by way of instant attraction – oh how romantic, and then wanting to own that attraction, as if a person should have an ownership tag, refusing to take no for an answer. Because well, he knows the woman will come around eventually. At least that’s what the dramas tell him.
And if she doesn’t, there’s always a way, lock her up, or simply force her to sign a marriage contract, thus making it all halal and legal under any court of law. And if that’s not enough, the woman too, at first resisting the dominating alpha male, caves in, finally smiling to herself, giving in to the attraction, and acknowledging that yeah, he’s quite something isn’t he?
How often have we witnessed slo-mo scenes of a male lead grab the female lead by the hand and walk her away, the scene has been met by loud applause from the audiences who root for actor xyz to play against actor abc – and let me say this out loud, it doesn’t matter what the character might have done in his onscreen life, if the actor playing him has a sizeable social media following, he could commit murder, rape or both of the above, and still be rooted for by audiences – why? Oh, because he repents, he’s the ultimate definition of cool alpha male, the take-charge kind who can fix everything for his woman; often, he’s wealthy, good-looking and almost always, she gives in to the persistence, of being asked again and again and yet again, and eventually marries him.
This is the male hero that young Pakistani men are exposed to onscreen. The hero that interferes with a woman’s upbringing, promoting a toxic example of manhood, where yiung men are led to believe that if they try hard enough, ask often enough and stalk even more, she will eventually say yes.
They grow up being told that she just plays hard to get, but in real life, she wants him too, or she doesn’t really know her mind. He is made to believe that a woman is internally weak, indecisive and voiceless. And when she does speak, it is only to say what she doesn’t really mean.
These Pakistani storytellers have it good. Because they allow a large part of our audience to live a subliminal fantasy – they bind their heroine with handcuffs, or lock them up in a room, they even ask them to say their name, with the camera up close, the lead pair so close, that one wonders if the carbon monoxide between them has air to breathe, and yet, they’re far enough not to get a PEMRA notice slapped on them, the lens is aligned ‘beautifully’ (sarcasm meant here) so that a picture-perfect scene, the arresting vision of helpless female – dominant male is stamped into our subconscious mind, to be replayed at odd moments by a young man or woman, wondering – is this what true love is all about?
It’s not.
This is what we tell our young boys, every mother does, or should – that what you see onscreen, how a woman is treated in that YouTube video you shouldn’t be watching but you eventually will, is not how real women want to be treated.
It’s a message not just for young men, but also for young women, that what you see in most Pakistani dramas is not the way someone who truly loves and respects you will treat you or should treat you.
And this is why, Pakistani dramas like Zard Patton Ka Bunn, Kuch Ankahi, Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum. Kabli Pulao, Tan Man Neelo Neel and some others, stand apart – because they decided to break the formula. But these stories are not the norm. For every Dil Na Umeed Toh Nahin that gets a few thousand views or perhaps a million views, there is a Kaisi Teri Khugharzi or Mann Mast Malang driving millions of views – why? Because these stories are living out a forbidden world in a society where porn might be a secret watch but Pakistani dramas are not.
The heroes we see in these dramas are not Jamie Miller of Adolescence who was not the hero of his story, but Kabir of Mann Mast Malang who’ll get the girl and stay the hero.
How does a woman, a mother, a wife explain to a young man that Kabir, the good-looking hero who binds his heroine in handcuffs, is not what winning at life should look like? How does a woman convince a man that this is not what she signed up for, when the story shows him otherwise.
And that dear folks is why Pakistani dramas, men’s mental health and women’s, are all linked together. You fix one, and you fix the other two – it all comes full circle!
