Changing Trends of Dramas Portray Dearth of Ideas

Thirty-Four years ago, my dad came into my bedroom and made me get up. I was groggy, sleepy, snuggly and warm. I wanted to stay under the covers but he remained insistent. “There is something on television you need to see”, he said. So, I sauntered into the living room not quite sure what my mother thought about this ongoing domestic catastrophe of me breaking the sleeping time curfew on a school night and that too to watch something on the television. Whilst there was nothing more exciting than the prospect of irking her that too with the support of a parent to boot, I remained slightly apprehensive.

The source of my apprehension (also) included the fact that, television at this time, usually translated to some ghastly urdu ‘drama’ – as they were (and still called) – being aired, and the prospect of watching some mean looking, pockmarked, poorly dressed, characters running around kidnapping innocent children and turning them into beggars just didn’t appeal to me.

Nonetheless, I made the trek and there in beautiful 1986 Pakistan Television Corporation technicolor were two men talking with a beautiful young girl with a pink panther stuffed toy making funny faces in the background. I laughed so much, my arms came off and so at the age of eight, I finally proceeded to watch (and enjoy) my first Pakistani drama.

Limitation of choices and genuine interest led me to watch a few more dramas in the following years.

I still fondly reminisce watching Irfan Khoosat playing a multi-faceted cop in ‘Andhera Ujala’, Shafi Muhammad crushing it as a feudal in ‘Chand Girhan’ and Sajid Hassan regaling as an offbeat medical practitioner in ‘Dhoop Kinare’. What I also distinctly remember was the undeniable mass appeal these dramas enjoyed. Age, sex, social, ethnic, educational and religious backgrounds didn’t matter. The entire nation would be hooked and literally everyone watched and discussed what was happening in these multi layered audio-visual epics.

Fast forward to 2020.  I’ve been informed that every ‘prime time’ evening approximately ~thirty to thirty-five million people in Pakistan find something better to do than listening to a seminal Hassan Nisar diatribe or watching Netflix’s captivating latest offering ‘The Queen’s Gambit’ on their televisions. Therefore, statistically speaking, one assumes they must be tuned in to a steady diet of socio-politico-cultural delights called Pakistani dramas. The answer unfortunately is only a partial yes. Large swathes of the television watching audience are indeed watching Pakistani dramas but these programs, whilst entertaining, are the antithesis of the deep socio-politico-cultural delights we were accustomed to in the past.

What exactly do these contemporary dramas represent? I asked a researcher to send me the themes of the ten most successful Pakistani dramas (determined by eyeballs tuned in) over the past two years. Here is what she came back with: extramarital affairs, spiritual reawakening, young lives, revenge through marriage, adultery, divorce, abusive marriage, the make-up / break-up / make-up carousel and the like.  Clearly our drama makers seem to be suffering an acute shortage of ideas in their minds. The aforementioned list does appear disbalanced, does it not? No doubt, men need women to function properly and perhaps women too need men to do the same. This said, their romance, their love, their strong bond, their weak bond, their deodorant usage, their food choices etc. cannot be enough to sustain an industry.

In my humble opinion, most of what we see now is mostly always irritating and more often than not harmful to our mental acuity and well-being. If the nanny ever puts on a Pakistani channel in the kitchen when I’m trying to write, or think or watch the paint dry; I am often overwhelmed with a sudden and sometimes uncontrollable need to hit her over the head with a bag full of snooker balls.

Do see where I’m going here? What makes it worse is that there’s often too much talk about some dramas actually being good without them actually bearing any resemblance to the word good. Even renowned publications like the ‘Dawn’ devote several pages to questionable ‘entertainment’ in its Sunday edition; but the fact of the matter is that the pearls, and there are few, are drowned in an overwhelming ocean of absolute rubbish on our airwaves.

Before some of you make this about me, and not about them, let me at the outset admit that I’ve got a bit of a reputation of being a ‘Bad-Mood-Joe’, a ‘Dinosaur’, an ‘Anorak’s Anorak’ as it were, but my chagrin simply cannot just be attributed to my advancing years and my insistence on living in the glorious nostalgic past. My aunt is also a dinosaur, and you should see her DVD collection to get an idea of what I am talking about.

Essentially, this collection (and I use that term loosely) is an assembly of ones and noughts in her DVD cabinet that she’s spent – correction – wasted, a lot of hard-earned money and precious time on. I know there are several such time and money wasters (old and young) infiltrating our communities. The corner DVD store proprietor in my neighborhood is willing to take the stand to confirm my hypothesis.

My mother is only slightly better, she’s saved on the money but sadly not on the time wasted. I often find her indulging herself in this nonsense along with the house help when the opportunity presents itself. Which, in her case, translates to the time she has between offering multiple prayers, forwarding everything (and anything) to everyone this side of the Nile river on WhatsApp and watching ridiculous ‘self-help’ and ‘instructional videos’ on YouTube.

I was discussing the fall of Pakistan television recently with another dinosaur (my uncle) who resides in Britain and he compared the state of our television affairs as the contrast between the state of modern music and good old rock’n’roll.

He recently attended a Roxy Music concert and confirmed that Bryan Ferry still remains a remarkable human being for whom the ageing process has had no meaning. I immediately drew a parallel with our very own Anwar Maqsood. I heard the man speak not too long ago and while he may now be close to a hundred and thirteen years old, there were still no signs of noticeable man cleavage, stomach tire(s) or any hair hole(s).

More importantly he still retains that iconoclastic cynic wit that we should see more of on television as opposed to the misogynist, petty and dumb downed cream pies being served by the likes of uber chauvinist Khalil-ur-Rehman Qamar and his ilk.

Who should one apportion the blame for this paltry mediocrity? The truth, I believe, lies somewhere between, Pakistani audiences being far more limited in their thought periphery than in previous decades; coupled with an unfortunate gamut of inadequacies – ranging from courage, lack of foresight, poor taste and fickle commercial interests – inherent in the media juggernaut (read: Channel owners, producers, writers etc.) that create dramas in Pakistan.

I’m not sure who to be more upset with, Dumb or Dumber? Mr. Qamar or his captivated audience that can’t wait to see his next abomination. I honestly can’t expect more from a mannerless brute of a man or an audience which probably deploys baggy trousers, checks and corduroys as staples in their wardrobes and typically wear that awful greased down hair that is so popular with tire fitters.

Not to mention the ladies who dye their hair every conceivable shade of brown and sport nets as part of their kameez arm sleeves like they were out to catch a prawn or two later in the evening.

Please don’t visit me with an axe in the middle of the night Mr. Qamar, I hear you get annoyed rather easily. Know this, no matter what the ratings say, what you make and what they see is not television to annoy the intelligent, it is television to drown out the intelligent.

I can absolutely guarantee 30 years from now, nobody will be making long treks to see P Diddy (or whatever he’s called this week) in concert or reminisce about some drama based on relationships between a couple and their in-laws. Au Contraire’ you can be well assured that my wife and I will still be making the trek to watch and listen to Anwar Maqsood who still won’t be sporting any man breasts, will not have dumbed down and will still be making us all laugh and think with his unique brand of cynic wit and genius.

Have a happy Irfan Khoosat day y’all!

Sameer Anees is a strategy consultant by profession.