Uddi ja…Udaari

We shall talk soon about Mohsin “DJ” Abbas Haider and his superb debut on Coke Studio with “Uddi ja”.  For now, I am simply suggesting a common spirit – to fly – between the two commendable artistic productions, the song and the serial.

First, a few contextual comments.

Having worked with microfinance banks and studied the concept of “Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid” fairly extensively, I concluded long ago that while community-based initiatives are the optimum vehicle for positive economic outcomes, microfinance banking, as practiced today, is a farce that wrongly co-brands itself with community and basks in undeserved glory.  Its intent is not to eradicate poverty at all. On the contrary, its mission is to hold the pyramid-bottom firmly in place while pushing the fortune upward, right to the pinnacle.  Usury, however well disguised, is evil all the same.  Applied at excessive rates to a disadvantaged populace makes it downright criminal. I was once an advocate, I know better now.

But Udaari, and its predecessor Rehaai, are another matter. In sponsoring these, Kashf Foundation has its heart in the right place and while I disagree with its microfinance agenda, I commend its focus upon issues pertaining to the rights of women and children.  Amongst lesser gems, Rehaai was a diamond and, following in its footsteps, exquisite Udaari lives up to its heritage.

At this point, there is nothing that Udaari can do wrong except stepping into the precipice of unnecessary extension thus diminishing itself.

Three elements form Udaari’s USPs; the bold, path-breaking treatment of the long ignored subject of child sexual abuse, Bushra Ansari’s spectacular portrayal of the independent minded, illiterate but fundamentally feminist Sheedan, the “domni” who carries music in her DNA, and the splendid surprise package Ahsan Khan as the abhorrent Imtiaz.  With these, Udaari is extraordinary. Without them, perhaps it would be a routinely good Hum TV production.  

If Pemra would perform its duties conscientiously, it would be considerably more generous with socially relevant themes while applying its instinctively censorious and puritanical judgment to mind-numbing morning shows, ill-conceived ramzan mehfils and nightly charades under the guise of political reporting. In a perfect world, our dramatic productions would be raw and provocative, perhaps even ugly and unpalatable, but always truthful.  In the same world, our news reporting and op-eds would be meticulously researched, objectively presented and, in some cases, wisely discreet.  Unfortunately, we live in an alternate universe, the imperfect one, and Pemra’s thrust is exactly the opposite. Cest la vie. 

In such a topsy-turvy scenario, it is a wonder that child sexual abuse has surfaced as a theme with a script which courageously depicts and unflinchingly condemns an evil which is far more prevalent in our society than we like to admit.  Through the early episodes, dialogue and direction remained coy, reaching only as far as suggestive terminology and actions rather than outright words and portrayal of pedophilia and rape. One must keep pinches of salt handy; we gobble up far-fetched, romanticized stories of rapist-turned-beloved - because, eventually, “he’s a good guy, see?” -  but we puke and choke over starkly realistic stories of incest where the bad guy remains the bad guy till the end, unrelenting and unapologetic. Lately, though, Udaari has taken a bolder turn.  Damning words such as “pedophile”, “rape”, “zina bil jabr” and “jinsi tashaddud” are used repeatedly to deliver the message. Zebo testifies “mein dus saal ki thi jab iss darindey ne mera rape kya tha!” and her lawyer says “yeh pedophile hai”.  It is spoken, there is silence, they are horrified, eventually they will accept, some will act. 

Udaari promotes a “Survivor not Victim” brand for women and children, be it the central track of Sajjo and Zebo, or related tracks of Sheedan and Meeran. Each woman is a victim of her circumstance but each is an eventual, unlikely, survivor.  The characters remain two-dimensional at best, a curse that all our scripts suffer, but there are nuances to appreciate.  Illiterate Sheedan confidently encourages her daughter to be proud of her heritage as a domni, appreciate her God-given talent and use it to prosper.  Sheedan obviously has no self-esteem issues. She also implicitly trusts Meeran and believes her story against Imtiaz.  Strong women are good mothers, “jaahil aur kam-zaat” they may be! On the other hand, come time to go public with their horror story, it is young Zebo who leads her mother to understand that they are not victims but survivors who will bring the criminal to book. In our imperfect world, women do not often go public with rape and incest accusations. Perhaps role models such as Zebo will encourage more “outings” and, thus, more convictions.

Let us talk about the lady who makes her work look so natural that we forget to give her due credit.  At worst, Bushra is witty and extempore and at best, she is studiously the character she plays.  Never is Bushra bad in a role; if she is ever uninteresting it is because script, character and direction simply could not utilize her well. When her collaborators are good, a Jehan Ara, a Bilji or a Saima Chaudhry appears.  When they are adequate, a Sheedan comes alive.  When she is surrounded by mediocrity, several nameless roles come to pass.  The tragedy of Bushra is that she can deliver massively more except that, barring her longtime collaborator Anwar Maqsood,  there is not a writer, producer or director who can match her brilliance and utilize her optimally.  In that perfect world in which we do not live, Bushra Ansari would have opportunities that  Meryl Streep or Shabana Azmi have – roles written for her, characters she would flesh out, stories that revolve around her – at her age, with her looks.  Even as Sheedan, it is obvious that Bushra plays it as she chooses with little contribution from the director. She is brilliant, it’s a given.  If only the grande dame of TV was blessed with equals or superiors; there are none, Bushra is bigger than all.

Characters are written in one, two or multi dimensions depending upon how skilled the scriptwriter and how mature the audience is.  Multi-dimensional characters, with shades of good-bad-in between, are preferred because they represent the human race correctly and are, thus, more engaging.  When Farhat Ishtiaq wrote Imtiaz, she was as blinkered as could be.  Imtiaz is just one dimension – hateful! It is almost as if a pre-occupied scriptwriter said “you’re not just a bad guy….you’re the worst guy ever; play it!” and a clueless director nodded in agreement.  Ahsan Khan may have received just this character brief.  One cannot say how Imtiaz would have fared in the head and hands of another actor but played by Ahsan Khan, he is riveting.  Sleazy, uncouth, dishonorable, deceitful, low-life of the highest order…there is not a single redeeming quality in Imtiaz….easy to hate, and dismiss.  But Ahsan Khan reduces himself, creeps under Imtiaz’s skin and magically brings the character to life evoking deep, intense disgust amongst the audience.  We are unable to dismiss Imtiaz not because he is bad but because the Ahsan we know is good. That Ahsan is TV’s pretty boy deepens the dilemma; millions of Pakistani women – and men - are struggling to come to terms with his disturbing transformation from Dreamy to Dreadful.  Language, gestures, wardrobe, emotion, tone, delivery – all have evolved as a journey through the episodes – and Ahsan Khan has nailed Imtiaz.  This is his moment…he wins whatever award is on offer for best performance in a TV serial.

Udaari is no Khuda ki Basti or Ankahi, it is not even a Humsafar in some aspects, but productions such as Udaari and Rehaai are carving a niche and developing an audience, both of which are more essential than mere artistic acclaim.  This now must develop into a central, exponentially growing phenomenon to directly target and, hopefully, help correct the evil that lurks within.  For now, we have Hum TV and Kashf Foundation to thank for the initiative.