The Asian reporter., April 07, 2025, Page 16, Image 16

A.C.E.
Page 16 n THE ASIAN REPORTER
April 7, 2025
In tense relations with India, Pakistani TV dramas
break down barriers that diplomacy often cannot
By Riazat Butt
The Associated Press
ARACHI, Pakistan — Two
Pakistani women sit together on a
couch, rehearsing their lines
while a director scrutinizes them. Waiting
off camera for his scene is the male lead, an
actor blessed with “Bachelor” hair and fine
bone structure.
Also out of sight: the Islamabad
homeowners, who are holed up in a
separate room and whose furniture and
knick-knacks will be seen by millions of
viewers — many from the society that has
been their country’s neighbor and uneasy
sparring partner for much of the past
century.
This is the set of the Pakistani drama
“Adhi Bewafai,” or “Half Infidelity” — one
of what some in other nations would call
“soap operas.” But these dramas, it turns
out, are not just for Pakistanis.
Realistic settings, natural dialogue, and
almost workaday plots about families and
marriages make Pakistani dramas a hit
with viewers at home and abroad —
especially in the neighboring country that
split with Pakistan in 1947 and is its
nuclear archrival today: India.
Television, it seems, is succeeding where
diplomacy sometimes can’t.
A glimpse into life across the border
Several thousand people work in
Pakistan’s drama industry; the country
produces between 80 to 120 shows a year,
each one a source of escapism and intrigue.
They offer Indians a tantalizing glimpse
into life across the border — and manage to
break through decades of enmity between
the two governments.
Maheen Shafeeq, a research associate at
the Institute of Strategic Studies in
Islamabad, says there is effectively no
relationship
between
the
two
governments. Each government is fixed on
a single issue it cannot move past — for
India, it’s terrorism; for Pakistan, the
disputed territory of Jammu and Kashmir.
“The governments are very much opposed
to each other,” she says. “They don’t agree
what they should talk about.”
Although it’s difficult for Indians to visit
Pakistan, where these shows are filmed,
they faithfully follow the plot twists and
turns through platforms like YouTube,
ZEE5, and MX Player.
For those of a certain generation, how-
K
ever, it wasn’t always so easy to keep up.
Kaveri Mishra, a writer in the Indian
city of Patna, recalls her mother-in-law
and aunt jiggling antennas in the 1980s
and 1990s in hopes of catching a signal
from Pakistan’s state broadcaster, PTV.
It’s how Mishra first realized that the
country next door was a drama
powerhouse. It inspired her to discover the
shows for herself years later, even going on
to watch them with her own daughter.
“They feel familiar, but they are also a
break from our own lives,” Mishra says. “I
don’t see any differences between the two
countries. Everything is relatable. I see
Karachi and think that it could be
Lucknow or Patna. What happens on the
shows could happen to me or my friends.”
She had heard only negative things
about Pakistan since childhood — that it
was the enemy that would take everything
from India. The TV dramas have added
subtlety and detail to this image for her.
She would love to visit, but is unlikely to
get the opportunity. So she explores
Pakistan through the locations, malls,
offices, streets, and restaurants depicted
on the small screen. The names of popular
Karachi neighborhoods roll off her tongue.
Mishra, like Bibi Hafeez in the southern
Indian city of Hyderabad and Punita
Kumar in the central Indian city of Raipur,
raves about the dramas’ universality of
themes, the strong characterization, and
the emotional range.
“Pakistani characters are not only
heroes or villains. They have shades to
them, and that is very human,” says
Kumar, who chanced upon a Pakistani
drama through a chunky videocassette
when she was a teenager living in the
northern Indian city of Aligarh. It was love
at first watch.
“They captivated me. We got a cable
connection that offered PTV. Then
YouTube came and I realized I could
search for whatever drama I wanted. I
haven’t taken a stop,” she said. “We get
exposure to Pakistani life in the scenes,
but the struggles the characters have with
their relatives are ones I would have with
my own.”
Pakistani TV veteran Khaled Anam is
delighted by Indians’ enthusiasm for the
country’s serials and the barriers they help
erode.
“What Bollywood is to India, dramas are
to Pakistan,” says Anam, who is based in
Karachi and has worked as an actor since
the 1980s. He has appeared in many
dramas, including the ratings smash
“Humsafar” (“Life Partner”).
India’s productions go big,
while Pakistan’s are more low key
India dominates the movie market in
South Asia and beyond, with big stars and
bigger budgets. Pakistanis have been
exposed to Bollywood films for decades,
although the prevailing hostile political
climate means they can’t watch them in
movie theaters. The bans are mutual,
though. India, like Pakistan, restricts
content from across the border in movie
theaters and TV channels.
And while India is no slouch when it
comes to TV production, it doesn’t offer
CROSS-BORDER HITS. Pakistani producer
Shah Hussain Syed, right, observes as Kausar Bibi,
center, and Robina Naz, second right, perform during
the shooting of a scene of TV drama serial “Adhi
Bewafai,” or “Half Infidelity,” in Islamabad, Pakistan.
(AP Photo/Anjum Naveed)
viewers what Pakistan does, according to
Anam: simplicity, depth of writing, and a
limited number of episodes.
“There are 15-minute flashbacks in
Indian serials. (The characters) are decked
out and dolled up. It’s a fantasy world. The
shows go on forever. Everything is ‘DUN
dun dun!’” says Anam, mimicking a dra-
matic musical riff and shaking his hands.
The actors on the couch in Islamabad are
rehearsing lines about a woman who is
disrespectful and so, according to one of
them, is an unsuitable marriage prospect.
The delivery and grammar could be heard
in virtually any South Asian household.
“Pakistanis are generally emotional
people, and that is in their dramas also,”
says Islamabad-based director Saife
Hassan. “It would take me less than two
minutes to explain the plot of the
super-duper hit ‘Kabhi Main, Kabhi Tum’
(‘Sometimes Me, Sometimes You’). It’s
about the emotions between a husband
and wife.”
Hassan, who began his TV career in the
1990s, says Indians frequently comment
on his social media pages and send him
direct messages about his work. He even
recalls Indian viewers praying for the
recovery of a character who was in a coma.
Hassan would love to see more
homegrown dramas make it onto
platforms like Netflix, as some Indian
shows have with great success. But he
wonders whether international audiences
would understand and connect with
Pakistani stories or lives: “The way we
think is different from the west. Our shows
are not driven by events. They are driven
by emotions.”
There is also a lack of raunch in Paki-
stani dramas, which are family-friendly
with little to no vulgarity, violence, or even
action. Indians, therefore, are a natural
audience for Pakistani dramas, Hassan
says.
“They are our people. They are like us.
They eat like us,” he says. “I love India, and
I love Indians. They have grown out of this
animosity.”
Riazat Butt is the news director for Pakistan
and Afghanistan for The Associated Press.
Hong Kong painter draws inspiration from city’s recent history in works at Art Basel
By Kanis Leung
The Associated Press
ONG KONG — At Hong Kong’s Art Basel,
painter Chow Chun-fai’s new works transport
viewers back to the night in 1997 when the
former British colony returned to Chinese rule, displayed
in the very exhibition center where one era ended and
another began.
That transformation in the city’s post-colonial era has
taken a drastic turn since 2020, when China imposed a
national security law that virtually wiped out dissent. The
law drove many middle-class families and young pro-
fessionals, including artists, to emigrate to democracies
like Britain, Canada, Taiwan, and the U.S. from what was
once a haven for free expression in Asia.
But others, like Chow, chose to stay and continue to
document their home city despite unclear red lines. His
works at Art Basel, which opened to the public in March,
revisit Hong Kongers’ collective memories of the late
1990s and early 2000s, a time many were proud of the
Chinese financial hub’s vibrancy and openness.
“While studying art, we’ve learned many artists faced
momentous times. Since we are living through such a
momentous time ourselves now, I will continue to learn
from it,” he said in an interview ahead of the
exhibition.
Chow is perhaps best known to those outside art circles
for his witty re-creations of classic movie scenes with
bilingual subtitles that lead audiences to reflect on Hong
Kong’s history and identity. He was also in the news when
H
he ran against pro-establishment candidates in the 2012
legislative election and the 2016 election committee race,
though he ultimately lost both contests.
At Art Basel, Chow’s paintings revisit significant news
events, from the 1997 handover and overseas trips made
by former top Chinese leaders to the celebration of China
becoming the host of the 2008 Olympic Games.
His works center on some of the biggest news stories
covered by Sharon Cheung, a former journalist and now
local gallery director.
In 2000, late former Chinese President Jiang Zemin
berated Cheung for asking what he called “too simple,
sometimes naïve” questions. She’d asked Jiang if his
support for then-Hong Kong leader Tung Chee-hwa gave
the impression of an imperial-style appointment. One of
HISTORY THROUGH ART. Artist Chow Chun-fai poses for
photographs during an interview at his studio in Hong Kong. Chow’s new
works transport viewers back to the night in 1997 when the former British
colony returned to Chinese rule. The works are being displayed in the very
exhibition center where one era ended and another began. (AP Photo/
Chan Long Hei)
Chow’s paintings illustrates that scene.
Another set of Chow’s paintings on view, titled “Panda,”
captures Jiang’s personality from another side,
documenting his light-hearted response to a question
about pandas during a 2002 U.S. trip. He replied in
English with a laugh: “I’m sorry, I am an electrical power
engineer.” Zhang said he was not a panda expert and
quoted a Confucian saying about the virtue of
acknowledging what one doesn’t know.
Chow said he included the work in the exhibition
because pandas have become a trending topic in Hong
Kong, where twins born last year sparked a bear craze.
Jiang’s response shows the characteristics of Chinese
leaders back then, he said.
Some 20 years later, Chinese leaders no longer have
such open exchanges with Hong Kong journalists. Last
year, China’s government even eliminated an annual
news conference by the premier, one of the rare times a top
Chinese leader took questions from journalists.
In Hong Kong, Beijing has doubled down on its control
following 2019 anti-government protests. Many leading
pro-democracy activists were prosecuted and jailed under
the security law. Apple Daily and Stand News, news
outlets known for their critical reports of the government,
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