While everyone’s busy unpacking Hassan’s trauma in Jafaa, dissecting his childhood wounds and emotional scars, there’s another character who’s been silently suffering in the background—Mustafa from Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum. Hassan’s struggles are front and center, making it easy for viewers to empathize, but Mustafa’s journey into fatherhood, his fears and insecurities, often go unnoticed.

Why don’t we talk about Mustafa‘s trauma—the subtle, quieter kind that doesn’t scream for attention but is just as valid? His insecurities about being a father and his deep-rooted fear of not being enough, deserve as much of the conversation. His journey as he transitions into fatherhood deserves just as much attention. He’s battling insecurities, fear of inadequacy, and the weight of providing for a child in a way that speaks volumes about men’s emotional burdens—burdens we rarely acknowledge, let alone explore.
Mustafa’s Journey Into Fatherhood
Mustafa’s fears aren’t unfounded. From the moment Sharjeena announces her pregnancy, he’s thrown into unfamiliar territory. Mustafa transitions from being a carefree young man, newly navigating the responsibilities of being a husband, to suddenly being thrust into the daunting role of a father. The shift is jarring, pushing him to confront fears and insecurities he never expected, especially regarding providing for his growing family. The pressure is immediate. He worries about whether he’ll be able to provide for his child, and this insecurity isn’t just about finances—it’s emotional too. Mustafa is afraid of failing as a father, afraid that he won’t be able to give his children the life they deserve.
The line, “Agar tum maa banrahi ho tou mein bhi tou baap banraha hoon,” is loaded with meaning. Yes, Sharjeena is going through the physical and emotional transformation of becoming a mother, but Mustafa is also transforming. He’s grappling with his new role, and yet, fathers are rarely given space to express these fears. Society tells men they have to “man up” and carry on without complaint, but why do we forget that fatherhood is just as life-altering for men?
The Silent Emotional Burden on Fathers
This brings us to a larger issue at hand: why don’t we talk about fathers’ struggles enough? Society often glorifies motherhood, and rightly so—mothers are incredible. But fatherhood is just as emotionally taxing. Men are expected to be stoic, to shoulder responsibilities without complaint, but that doesn’t mean they don’t feel the pressure. Mustafa’s journey shows us that men, too, carry emotional weight into parenthood. They, too, fear they won’t be enough for their children. They, too, worry about their ability to provide, protect, and nurture.
Fatherhood, like motherhood, is a journey of discovery, filled with insecurities and fears. Mustafa’s reluctance to express his emotions isn’t a sign of indifference; it’s a reflection of how deeply rooted societal norms have silenced men’s vulnerabilities. If we look beyond the surface, we can see that Mustafa’s journey mirrors the struggles of many men, who are burdened by their own childhood experiences, who wrestle with the fear of not being enough, and who are expected to navigate it all without complaint.
The Impact of Childhood Labels on Parenting
This brings us to an important point: how our childhood experiences shape our parenting styles. Mustafa’s struggle to believe in his abilities as a father doesn’t come out of nowhere. It’s a direct result of the way he was raised. Constantly being told that you’re “good for nothing” leaves a mark, one that’s hard to shake off, even in adulthood. Those labels don’t just disappear when you become a parent—they shape the way you see yourself, and by extension, the way you parent.
Mustafa’s struggle is a reminder that our past as a child plays a critical role in how we approach parenthood. If you’ve spent your whole life being told that you’re not capable, how do you suddenly believe that you can raise a child? Mustafa’s journey shows us that fatherhood isn’t just about providing material things—it’s about battling the internal demons that tell you you’re not good enough, not strong enough, not enough.
He’s navigating unfamiliar territory, trying to figure out how to be the best father he can be while battling the scars of his past. And like many men, he’s doing it quietly, without much recognition or support. Mustafa’s experience isn’t solely about his anxiety over fatherhood—it speaks to the larger problem of how men are conditioned to suppress their emotions, especially when it comes to something as vulnerable as parenting.
Men, Relationships, and Communication
Mustafa’s story also highlights another key issue: communication in relationships, or rather, the lack of it. Men, traditionally, aren’t as expressive as women when it comes to their emotions. Mustafa doesn’t know how to articulate his fears because, for him, expressing vulnerability is foreign territory. This is where things often go wrong in relationships. When Mustafa needs Sharjeena’s support, he doesn’t know how to ask for it. He shuts down because he’s never been taught how to express these deep-seated emotions.
Sharjeena, initially portrayed as a practical, confident, and independent character, now finds herself in a more vulnerable state due to her pregnancy, which is completely understandable. However, even in this phase, communication is key. Shutting down Mustafa, who’s already struggling with his insecurities, only adds to the emotional distance between them. This lack of communication takes a toll on their relationship, as Mustafa is left trying to navigate the situation without any clear guidance, making an already difficult transition even harder. This dynamic is common in relationships—women often expect men to pick up on unspoken signals, but men, more often than not, need clear communication. Silent treatment, and emotional distance—these tactics rarely work, yet they’re used all too often. Mustafa doesn’t understand Sharjeena’s emotional cues, not because he doesn’t care, but because he’s never been taught how to read them.
We place this unfair burden on men to somehow magically understand what their partner wants without being told. But why? Communication is a two-way street, and when it breaks down, both partners suffer. Mustafa’s inability to express himself doesn’t make him a bad partner or an unloving father-to-be. It just makes him human—someone who needs a little help navigating a territory that’s as new to him as it is to Sharjeena.
The drama does a remarkable job of highlighting men’s inner emotional struggles, particularly their difficulty in expressing vulnerability. Mustafa’s character arc shines a light on how men often feel the weight of expectations while struggling to communicate their emotional turmoil.
Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum does a great job highlighting something we don’t talk about enough—how men like Mustafa struggle with their emotions, suffering in silence, especially when stepping into roles like fatherhood. Mustafa’s fears and insecurities are deeply relatable, yet often overlooked. While Sharjeena’s journey through pregnancy is front and center, it’s clear that communication is key for both of them. Shutting Mustafa out only deepens his anxieties, and the drama makes us realize how men, too, need space to express their fears without feeling judged. Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum gently pushes us to recognize that fatherhood comes with its own emotional weight, and both partners need to communicate, share, and understand each other’s fears to navigate this journey together.
Navigating fatherhood for a dad-to-be can be just as daunting as motherhood for a new mom. But do we often see it that way?
