Film as a revolutionary art form has for some time been at direct odds with the commercialisation of cinema, because it has put those on the margins in popular discourse. The decline of Pakistan’s local film industry has also coincided with changing economic structures in which the industry used to operate. Cinema has since long been associated with projection of national identity. With the advent of globalisation, film has been used to project various group identities and has also changed the paradigm in which culture functions. In the 1970s, Indian actor Amitabh Bachan had come to represent the quintessential anti-hero in Indian cinema. His films would sell out for weeks at a time as he would have a following that represented the marginalised classes. Through the advent of global cinema, such films are rarely seen due to the creation of the consumable hero. A professor at the State University of New York, Shakuntalo Rao, in her study of the globalisation of Indian cinema says:

“The new dream-world of Bollywood provides the space for the ‘consumable hero’ who is an icon of transnational capital, rampant consumption, and global modernity.”

In the 60s, Shabab and Evernew studios were considered the two best film studios in Lollywood. Any director in Lahore would want to shoot his films there. Like many legends of that era, the beautiful Shabnam also spent most of her time shooting at these locations. After 14 years, Shabnam returned to Pakistan last month. Although Shahab no longer exists and Evernew is not what it used to be, Shabnam’s fans were keen to have one more glimpse of her as she visited her colleagues in Lahore. Film technicians who had worked with Shabnam back in the day described her as a courteous, modest and good-natured lady who was friendly on the film sets. “When Aina was being shot in 1977, she came to Evernew Studio. I was serving as a helper with an assistant at that time,” recalls one such man, now a tailor, who had a chance to meet the legendary actress. “I once spoke to her while serving tea to the artists on the set. She asked us to pray for the success of her film, which later became a huge hit. She wasn't arrogant at all and spoke to us with great respect,” he added. Aina, a Pakistani film from 1977 which starred Shabnam and Nadeem, is said to be the longest running Pakistani film on record. It is also called “Pakistan’s only crown jubilee film” with a total running period of 401 weeks in all cinemas and 48 weeks in the main cinemas in Karachi. The film was a musical success with music composition by Robin Gosh (Shabnam’s husband). The playback singers for the films were Mehdi Hassan, Mehnaz, Alamgir, Nayyara Noor and Akhlaq Ahmed. As I reminisce the golden days with her return to Pakistan, I remember how mesmerising her performance was in this film. The song “Mujhe Dil Se Na Bhulana” shown in the video above is one of the most celebrated songs of Lollywood. Another excellent on-screen performance by Shabnam was in Andleeb. The Shabnam-Waheed Murad on screen duo did wonders at the box office and the film ran continuously for 56 weeks in Karachi. In this film, she performed another timeless hit called “Mere Dil Ki Mehfil”. [[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgUuHFW-UhM]] Another song featuring Shabnam that brought two great artists together was “Mili Gul Ko Khushboo” sung by Runa Laila for Shabnam in Naseeb Apna Apna - a black and white film from the 70s directed by Qamar Zaidi and produced by Waheed Murad. [[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfOBkGGoIts]] I can safely say that Shabnam has been an inspiration for the whole generation - there are over 150 films to her credit, dozens of which are unmatched in Lollywood. While artists in Lahore’s old studios eagerly waited for her visit, she said herself that she might not find those places to be the same as before. Shabnam’s last film was released some two decades ago; things have changed dramatically for the worse in Lollywood since then. However, I am positive after hearing her say that she will try her best to contribute something to Lollywood. The hope in my heart to see this Lollywood queen on the silver screen again has been rekindled. Will we get to see the talented Shabnam in Pakistani movies like Khuda Ke Liye and Bol? I surely hope so! Read more by Ali here. Correction: An earlier version of this post incorrectly stated that Shabnam performed in the song "Mein Jis Din Bhula Doon Tera Pyar". The error is regretted.

I am a big fan of Pakistani movies, and I am not embarrassed in the slightest to admit to this. However, for the past few years - like a decade or so - I have not come across many quality movies in terms of script, performance and concept. Khuda Ke Liye, Bol, Yeh Dil Aapka hua and few other movies were technically sound and showcased strong scripts and some impressive performances. The rest,  and I say this with deep regret, were typical in that they offered no quality content to the audience. A few days ago, I was enlightened about the trailer of Naach - a joint venture by Nasir Teherani and Manduck Collective Films. [[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSvCvjjyLvI]] It came as a complete surprise to me to watch a few of our finest actors delivering some great dialogues. I must add here that the Pakistani film industry once had amazingly potent dialogues back in the 60’s up till the early 90’s, but after this, they just fell flat. With Naach, I am hoping to see a revival in good dialogue. This movie will be the first ever to embark on a genre exploring the performing arts in Pakistan. It showcases the talents of Javed Sheikh, Shaan, Momal Sheikh, Noman Butt and Komal Rizvi, along with many other glittering stars. This movie is based on passion, dance, romance, inspiration and imagination. I am truly excited to see what is in store for us! The trailer of the movie itself is very appealing and interesting. It builds up the curiosity for the movie – which in itself is a generous victory for our film industry. Let us not dwell  over the debate over the originality of the concept or its inspirational adaptation. Just consider this movie as a move towards a brighter future for our cinema. Javed Sheikh is definitely amongst the finest actors of our country. I have liked him since the days of his television drama  'Shama'. The way he is seen delivering his dialogues in Naach is commendable; his voice and his gestures will undoubtedly impress you the way they have managed to impress me. Moving on, Shaan, I find is the most sensible actors that we have ever had. He has, undoubtedly done a remarkable job in maintaining and increasing the viewer-ship of Pakistani films. Whether it was Guns N Roses, Very Good Dunya Very Bad Log, Tere Pyar Mein, Ghoonghat, Khuda Ke Liye or Moosa Khan, Shaan has always tried to give a well composed and genuine performance as per his character's requirement. It is a shame that Pakistani directors fail to offer him roles that reflect his true calibre as an actor. Many will question the choice of mature and older actors like Shaan and Javed Sheikh in a movie about dance without once thinking that these actors actually have substance in their acting and are well versed in what they do. Why is that we didn't question Shah Rukh Khan's role as a hockey coach for a women's team? Aren't Al Pacino and Richard Gere still acting and taking up challenging roles? It is because these "old" and "mature" actors have way more experience and versatility than the few younger ones whose looks are more potent than their acting skills. To all those critics my humble advice is to try promoting Pakistani films especially when they are worthy of praise. It is our responsibility to help restore, respect and honour our film industry, especially when our country needs an avenue where Pakistan can be seen under a more positive light. I am ardently looking forward to this movie, and I hope those who appreciate quality movies stemming from Pakistani cinema are feel the same way. Read more by Shafiq here, or follow him on Twitter @shafiqulhasan81

What do you get when you put two Veenas in one place? Well, I would say daal mein zaroor kuch kaala hai!  Not one, but two Veena Maliks are going to star in the upcoming film, "Daal Mein Kuch Kaala Hai". Veena has been working on this film since her appearance in the "Big Boss" series on Sony TV. Playing a double role, Veena is to portray a sharp and witty woman that we're all familiar with as well as a softer side to the 'always-in-news-for-every-wrong-reason' diva. [[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xaWiEV8Rmg]] Spoiler alert: This comedy flick starts off when Dabu (Anand Balraj) - a middle-aged film director, madly in love with his upcoming film actress Veena Malik - hits a jackpot and becomes filthy rich. Dabu, having only the starlet on his mind, goes to her to win her over with his new found wealth. The sly Veena, though, is not so easy to get hold of. Instead of reciprocating his love, she devises a plan with her boyfriend to rob Dabu and elope. This, however, is  not a piece of cake for the couple and what awaits them is lot of twists, turns and a bumpy ride. Then, another Veena Malik makes her entrance as a beautiful angel, taking the movie to a whole new level of comedy and entertainment. Being in a film with actors like Jackie Shroff and Shakti Kapoor, Veena is adamant not to be overshadowed by all the stardom that tails these actors. According to her:

I have worked with big names; just look at the cast of "Daal Mein Kuch Kaala Hai" – but I am not someone who would stand in someone’s shadow.

Ayub Khan first banned Indian films in Pakistan in 1965. While it was a developing industry, the protectionist policy had a nationalist undertone rather than a solid economic rationale that would benefit filmmakers. Obscured by a political and nationalistic dimension, the long-term health of Pakistani cinema was ultimately hindered. Today, the debate regarding the ban on Indian films is prevalent amongst the film community. The idea is that through a protectionist policy one can adequately control competition, thus giving an edge to Pakistani films at the box office. The debate has been dominated by hardline filmmakers who insist that they can not only protect the country from cultural imperialism, but also economically revive the industry simultaneously. Protectionist policies have always been a double-edged sword since they are merely a lever towards a more comprehensive solution for the revival of cinema. There is no doubt that economic protectionism can effectively allow an industry to grow economically — but on a limited level. For Pakistan, protectionism has had a limited impact due to censorship codes and legislation. Culture, as a result, has been defined according to government dictates ignoring the shared cultural processes that were prevalent across both India and Pakistan. Pre-1965, the cinema had a prevalence of themes that dealt with the shared heritage of India and Pakistan. In essence, the shared cultural heritage between India and Pakistan fuelled the demand for Indian films in the first place. As the industry grew to support the conception of the state, films became increasingly formula-based and assimilating in nature. The more adventurous themes in the 1960s attracted disdain from politicians while the popular government of the 1970s opened the door to regional cinema and reflected the social philosophy of “roti, kapra aur makaan”. The national psyche was subsequently reflected in movies like Maula Jatt. The eventual ban on Indian cinema meant that art and filmmaking became limited. It is, therefore, imperative that one does not resort to nationalist and political compulsions when considering the long-term growth of cinema, in order to pander to the popular ego. Read more by Sher here.

In 1950, three years after the partition, my great grandfather, who was living in Dhaka (then Dacca) at the time, was brought to West Bengal, India, by his sons.

This was not a voluntary move, for Charuchandra Dasgupta had lived in Manikganj almost all his life and saw no reason to relocate to what was now an independent India. The communal riots in East Pakistan of that year further pressed the resolve of his sons, who ultimately prevailed upon him and that was the last he ever saw of Dhaka.

In the last week of August, a conflict transformation workshop organised by Women in Security, Conflict Management and Peace (WISCOMP) - a not-for-profit organisation set up with the Nobel Peace Prize money endowed to the Dalai Lama - brought together Pakistani and Indian nationals in New Delhi. They were to engage with one another on issues of importance to both countries (to their credit, this was the 10th edition of this annual feature on WISCOMP’s calendar).

I was a participant in the workshop, and trite as this may sound, the experience holds the possibility of forever changing the way I look at Pakistan and Pakistanis.

I had met Pakistanis before but never engaged with them on a level of intimacy and involution as this time round. What followed in the course of the four-day period at the workshop was very revealing, not only for me but also for every other participant in the programme.

I am by no means hyperbolising when I say that it took just a little over a day for me to make friends with people from 'across the fence'. In no time at all, we were actually jesting about each other’s stereotypes. So, to illustrate, the Indians were accused of machinating to destroy Lollywood, and Pakistanis were charged with loving India's cinema more than her people. This was all done in good humour. Of course, there were a few participants who seemed content with keeping to themselves but they were the exceptions.

There were so many points of commonality that it seemed ironic for us to belong to 'enemy countries', as a guest speaker also pointed out. If Bollywood was a great unifier, it must be mentioned that our Pakistani friends knew more on the subject than we did, or at least I did.

Our love of musicians from across the border also turned out to be a great topic for discussion. One of the first audio cassettes that I remember buying as a child was Junoon’s Azadi some 15 years ago. On odd days, if you listen very carefully, you can still hear me humming Kyun Parishan.

Why then, if we know so much about each other, do we not seem to get along?

I am afraid that is a very hard question to answer although possibly a simpler question couldn’t be posed. On a superficial level, it might seem very easy to make a list of things we hate about the 'other', but on a philosophical level, can we justify that list and swear to ourselves that it would hold true for eternity?

I, too, have my fair share of problems with the Pakistani state just as I’m sure Pakistanis have their share of problems with the Indian state. Today, I might have a more legitimate claim to bitterness against their state but yesterday, perhaps Pakistan did. The Pakistani state will have to reassure the Indian state by doing everything possible to avert another Mumbai.

However, that in no way should impede our right to engage with and visit each other. Making friends and sustaining those friendships is one way we can hope to get out of this quagmire. Also, the whole idea of limited visas wherein most Pakistanis receive permits to visit only one or a few Indian cities, and Indians, too, receive permits to visit only one or a few Pakistani cities needs to be scrapped.

How can one call oneself a South Asian under such throttled circumstances?

Agreed, South Asia is a recent construct and this part of the world has always been known as the Indian subcontinent. But do I not hear peaceniks on either side (not to forget like-minded Bangladeshis, Nepalese and Sri Lankans) hoping to forge a new, post-colonial South Asian identity?

Well, such a thing must be worked for and will not drop, all of a sudden, from the sky.

Our guests (and now friends) from Pakistan have returned home. I hope we stay in touch because after all the geniality and warmth exchanged, the real challenge will lie in our being able to sustain those ties and informing friends and family in our respective countries that the other is, in fact, quite similar.

A partitioned subcontinent need not necessarily mean partitioned people.

Charuchandra Dasgupta, I’m certain, would agree.

Lahore and I have always had a complicated relationship. The city can plunge me deep into an abyss of depression at will, yet it’s the sole antidote to depression I know of. It reminds me of various people, family members and others, who passed away; yet it’s a place that still makes me want to live. I would choose Lahore over any other city of Pakistan if given the choice. So it’s only after 20 years of my acquaintance with Lahore, countless memories, ample experiences and an article in The Express Tribune Magazine entitled '10 things I hate about Lahore' (which was widely misinterpreted and earned me some considerable bashing) that I thought about writing on the 20 things that I love about the city of sin and splendour. 1. How Lahoris forgive and forget. Though belligerence seems to be the natural order of the day in Lahore, the news doesn’t end right there. In the first half of a second, you see two men dash and break each other’s teeth. In the next half of the same second, you see them going to the dentist together. 2. The shrine of Mian Mir Madho Lal Hussain, Data Darbar, the langar, the divine verses, the dholaks, and the dance ─ sufism seeps pure and chaste through the city. 3. Driving through the canal road. There are few things as joyous as passing through the underpasses besides the melodious canal, especially in the summers, when the canal plays host to a number of heat-struck kids! 4. Food. Ah, the food is the best, but since the culinary aspect of Lahore has been written about to death, skip to the next one! (However, this isn’t to say that checking out the new food street shouldn’t be aim of your life from this moment on!) 5. The rapidly increasing fly-overs and modern structures. I’m ready to forgive the massive amount of hapless trouble the Kalma Chowk fly-over recently gave me. Environmentalists may hate me for this, but I do have a thing for concrete. 6. The wonderful, strong people Lahore has produced, which includes the likes of Maulana Maudodi, Bano Qudsia, Sufi Tabassum, Saadat Hassan Manto, Habib Jabib and Ashfaq Ahmad, and, of course, my mother! 7. Lahore never sleeps and it is downright aversive to the idea of keeping mum. It remains abuzz with activity even in the unwonted of all hours. When all else is calm, the rickshaws come to play, or the blaring vocals of Naseebo Lal! 8. Amidst the elegant harmony between Badshahi masjid, Gurdwara Dera Sahib and Krishna Mandir, Lahore remains devout to its faith. Most of the times, religion tends to remain in the city what it’s intended to be: an ideology rather than an accessory. 9. Old Lahore. Narrow streets ad wide havelis speak of a spectacular past. And the thirteen gates (theoretically speaking). One cannot leave out Wazir Khan mosque, Shahi Hamam, and paan-chewing uncles playing cards. 10. Of how Lahore is a sensitive place ─ there is so much feeling to the city. Everything in Lahore has a story to tell. Since I’m much of a loser at poetic expressions, can I please get away by just saying that the city itself lives? 11. The vehicles. Lahore is the city where I first saw a limousine, desperately trying to make a U-turn on the narrow road of an underdeveloped neighbourhood. To complete the picture; years ago it was also the city where I first saw a rickshaw! ‘Itna bara scooter?’ a five-year-old me had shockingly posed at my aunt! 12. The splendor. Thanks to the Mughals (and, err, to the British, too), past blends flawlessly with the present in Lahore and gives rise to an aura peculiar to the city. A special salute to Noor Jehan for giving us her husband Jehangir’s tomb, which tops the list of my favourite Mughal structures! They don’t really say ‘Lahore, Lahore hai’ for nothing! 13. Lahore is home to Pakistan’s state-of-the-art, premium, international standards (pun intended) film industry: Lollywood. What’s life without laughter? What’s Lahore without Lollywood? 14. I especially adore how welcoming and hospitable the city is. Despite the barbarous invasions throughout its timeline, Lahore isn’t the least bit sceptical or cynical. In fact, it has been irrationally abused too much by all the separatists, that it rightfully doesn’t seem to care anymore. When others refused to bow and went for arms, Lahore surrendered, not because it was weak, but since it was ready to evolve. 15. That market near that road I do not remember exactly, but it has a note-worthy collection of impressive pets ─ cats, dogs and birds. Lame? Sorry! (But they even sell African Grey Parrots and Japanese Spitz(es)!) 16. Lahore is an absolute delight for shoppers. There’s an infinite list of options to choose from; Fortress, Anarkali, Gulberg, Liberty, Sunday Bazaar (and even Landa Bazaar). 17. The parks. In the mood for jogging, or just enjoying the serene nature in intimacy? Lahore won’t disappoint you. 18. The festivities! Lahore calls for celebrations galore at the slightest hint of a chance. It doesn’t just make merry; it has to do it. Had all cities been the same, just think about the numerous holidays we’d be having! 19. Because it’s a (ignoring certain aspects) classy example of how a city should be. It has even braced itself to get Pakistan’s first metro rail transit system. It’s just that no one really knows if/how the project turns up – but we won’t go there. 20. Because it’s ours! Read more by Asif here or follow him on Twitter @asifnz

Whilst the former government was busy choosing a person from the photo album of multiple 85-year-old potential caretakers (most of whom require a personal caretaker in their normal lives), the only thing that was killing me was to figure who I must vote for. Amidst that anguish, came the news that immediately lightened up the mood; interior design graduate from Kinnaird College named Irtiza Rubab is going to be contesting against Imran Khan in the next general elections. For those who don’t know, I’m talking about Meera jee! It was a bit of a laugh since there is absolutely no match between the two. I mean come on, one is an internationally acclaimed superstar, a philanthropist and a heartthrob who stole millions of hearts and the other one is Imran Khan. I think Imran Khan should step back or consider another seat if he doesn’t want to see his 17-year-long struggle flushed down the drain. I’m serious. Meera definitely has my vote for reasons mentioned below and after reading this piece, she’ll have a couple more, I’m sure. Following are the reasons why Meera has a higher weightage against Imran Khan. Name: Names have a very strong psychological effect. Now I’m a believer of numbers and letters and the science between them. Looking at some historical examples, you will see that strong personalities usually possess strong names; these names define their charisma and appeal. How many Benazirs did you know before Benazir Bhutto? Most of us never heard of the name ‘Musharraf’ before Pervez Musharraf. How many Churchills or Hitlers were there in history? This is why you had never heard the name Obama before President Obama came along. If I were to tell you that a guy named Abdul Rashid Salim dated Aishwariya Rai and Katrina Kaif, your mind would conjure up a weird image of an ordinary person and you would probably find it hard to believe. Well, that happens to be Salman Khan’s real name! See, now you have a different image in your head. Imran Khan is a very common name, although the “Khan” attempts to give more weightage there but try and Google it, you’d get more results for “Matru Ki Bijli ka Mandola” than the guy in question. ‘Meera Jee’, however, has its own uniqueness that speaks of a strong character and I foresee this name as a beacon of exemplary leadership in future. Team: There is no “I” in the word team unless Apple decides to launch a product called iTeam; until then we’re good. A team is very essential, as politics is no one-man-show. Okay, may be it is in this democratic dilemma we live in, but if you wish to bring a change, you need a perfect team to start off. Imran doesn’t have it, sadly. His team comprises a dentist, an owner of a chain of schools, a former CEO of a multinational, and a bunch of opportunists who had pledged their allegiance to the same “crooks” who Imran likes to keep targeting. It is highly unlikely that these people will ever make to our good books. A CEO of a multinational company? Please, everyone knows that they are the ones who devise and execute plans to steal resources of the nation and sell it worldwide reaping profits, paying peanuts to the worker; they’re a perfect example of ‘corporatocracy’. I am not willing to trade my vote for this. Meera, however, has a trustworthy and talented team of “national heroes” who mean serious business. They can use Moammar Rana’s acting sequels as a torture method for interrogation ensuring quick results in counter-terrorism. Saima, on the other hand, can come in handy in the search for untapped mineral resources. Mustafa Qureshi can be made in-charge of security and immigration at the airport keeping an eye on the goras, mostly first time visitors who he could stare straight into their face and ask,

“Nava aaya hai, sohneya?” (Are you new here, dearie?)

“Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious.”

I don’t remember watching a Pakistani film growing up. I was way too busy being smothered by Shahrukh Khan’s movies that everyone back then just had to watch — with the entire family. People would memorise lines, know the dance steps of each song by heart and would fantasise about Bollywood happening to them in real life. It never did. When Pakistan came out with films like Khuda Ke Liye and Bol, the content was too ‘heavy’ to appeal to the masses. Critics called the plot convoluted. The treatment contrived and termed the subject matter as just way too overwhelming for a single feature-length film. This was the time that rumours about Pakistan’s film industry being dead were gaining strength. The formulaic underdog-actor-coming-to-the-rescue-of-the-shrieking-heroine narrative of yesteryear was no longer getting the common man to the cinemas — at least, not in as large a number. It’s when people realised that film-makers had something to say — for a change, that the word ‘revival’ came about. Khuda Ke Lyie and Bol touched a nerve. They were way too close to home to be considered pleasant and yet, the originality was refreshing. The fact that it stemmed from real issues and wasn’t just a derivative of Hollywood, Bollywood and everything in between was a novelty. We didn’t have to wait for a movie to happen to us. It was already happening. The newer product of the industry, Chambaili also played on a topic that was relevant — elections. Back then, nothing else mattered. Even though, how the film was shot and technically treated left much to be desired, it didn’t borrow from content that was alien to the people and for that very fact, it worked. The number of Pakistani films you have seen in the last five years hardly amount to a double-figure and yet, I fail to accept that the industry is dead. As long as it has a voice that sets it apart from any other medium, for me it’s doing exactly what it’s supposed to. Maybe consider it dead, when it has nothing to say at all. Read more by Riffat here, or follow her on Twitter @RiffyR

The list of things wrong with Pakistan, today: corruption, terrorism, a crumbling state structure, the energy crisis, sectarian violence, poverty, lack of infrastructural development, brain drain, increasing foreign debt, illiteracy, unemployment, mehngai (inflation), paani ki qami (water scarcity), roads pe traffic aur Meera ji ki English (traffic on the roads and Meera ji’s English)…Wait, what?! In her own words, Meera began her career in the entertainment industry in 1995. In just 18 years, she has somehow managed to become an integral part of the Pakistani entertainment industry. Every other person on the street will know who she is. Hers’ is the kind of fame that has managed to transcend all barriers of class, sect and ethnicity. For the love of God, the woman got her own reality television show when she decided it was time for her to get married. Need I say more? But somehow, we have all collectively managed to upset Meera. The fan-following and popularity isn’t enough. The XX-year-old woman needs more attention. In her latest attempt to make news waves, Meera has decided that she has had enough with all the jokes about her age and her English speaking skills (or lack thereof). Apparently, her recently released movie didn’t shift enough of the Pakistani population’s focus onto her. The ‘veteran’ Lollywood actress has now threatened to drag to court everybody who manages to offend her! Good luck with that Meera. It’s not like our courts have anything better to do anyway, right?

“I am taking my life very seriously now and want to build a hospital in Pakistan for my country-men.”

Veena Malik has found a new claim to fame. And this time it is at the opposite end of the pendulum. Suddenly modelling, acting, dancing and all showbiz-related content has been deemed un-Islamic. By Veena Malik. Yes, Veena Malik. Don’t believe me? [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1a663d_veena-malik-in-umrah_shortfilms[/embed] Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against practicing one’s faith but no one can publicly criticise another’s profession in the name of religion. No one can have the audacity to turn on someone or something that made you who you are. Not even Veena Malik. Who is she to decide about the sanctity of the showbiz industry? Yes, people can change; they can become more devout and pious. But they cannot criticise the actions of others and especially, not on national television. And what annoys me is that the media gave her ‘affected’ message live coverage. The same media that made her what she is today. We all know about her initial journey of failure as an actress in Lollywood and then her failed attempt at acting in TV shows. Her fortune only changed for the better after she acted in Pakistan’s popular comedy show Hum Sab Umeed Say Hain. Then she tried her luck in India where once again, she acted in a succession of failures including Zindagi 50-50, Gali Gali Mein Chor Hai and Tere Naal Love Hogaya. While in India, she created quite a controversy when participating in Big Boss and with her ‘allegedly’ nude photo shoot for the Indian online edition of the international monthly men’s lifestyle magazine FHM. And if this photo shoot was not enough, the next drama on the plate was her tattoo which was visible during the shoot. The tattoo happened to be of Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) and after this, there were speculations that Veena was acting as a Pakistani spy in India – a claim she vehemently denied, of course. My point is that Veena has gone out of her way to create a spectacle out of everything she has put herself into. And she has done a good job, judging from the fame she has accumulated over the years. I don’t think there is anyone who would not know of Veena Malik. They might not have seen her pictures, shows or movies, but they would still know who she is and why she is famous. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Veena Malik has always gone out of her way to create a spectacle out of everything she has put herself into. Photo: File[/caption] So, this new video just seems like another theatrical attempt to add some spice to her life (and to that of others too). I am not to trying to compare her actions to those of a regular woman (since she has clearly shown that she isn’t one) but she needs to understand that there are several ways to resolve issues. And not all of them have to be so dramatic. Take the example of Sunny Leone. When the Indo-Canadian moved from the adult film industry to Bollywood, she spoke about her past in a matter-of-fact way. She never denied that it had been a part of her life but neither did she speak ill about the adult film industry. And then, along comes Veena, clad in her abaya and hijab, setting off for Umrah and asking people for forgiveness for her ‘past mistakes’ and requesting them to pray for her so that she is able to stick to this ‘change’ in her life. She has announced her retirement from the Indian and Pakistani film industry but has promised that she will only work for social welfare projects in the future. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300"] She has announced her retirement from the film industry and has claimed that she will only work for social welfare projects. Photo: File[/caption] Her supporters will argue that it is customary to ask for prayers and forgiveness when heading off to a pilgrimage. But coming on air and asking for ‘forgiveness for her past mistakes’ just seems insulting to the media industry – the very industry that welcomed her and made her who she is today. Or was yesterday. I just think that religion is one’s personal domain and flaunting her ‘Naik Perveen-ness’ in our faces, just like she flaunted all her other assets in our faces yesterday, is in poor taste. Just because she has decided to set out on a new part in her life does not mean that the entire film industry is un-Islamic and is on the path to despair. She has claimed in her interviews that ‘well-wishers from all over the world have been congratulating her and sending her prayers’. I think that had she made this move in a more discreet and subtle way, her well-wishers would have been much more in number. And I might have been one of them.

It is evident that, in today’s day and age, women become very sensitive when it comes to discussing matters of ‘age’. Some become defensive, while others become emotionally distraught. Yesterday, a friend of mine shared a video with me on Facebook, and what a surprising video that turned out to be! In the clip, Meera is seen clarifying speculations about her age. She says,

“My age has always been a very complicated matter and ‘Googles’ also portrays my age incorrectly, even my date of birth. I was born on May 12 but ‘Googles’ shows otherwise. But for now all I can say is that I am under 30. I’m just a girl right now.”

“Meera falls in the league of senior actors now and should play the role of the heroine’s older sister, instead of the lead character.”

“Sangeeta is more like a grandmother now and she should act maturely. She should abstain from exhibiting such childlike behaviour; the underlying motive for passing such a statement was to gain popularity.”

“I am not suffering from any age complex. However, many actresses these days, who are grandmothers now, are still hiding their age.”

There has to be something about a movie where a Pakistani audience sits silently in cinemas, where mobile texting and chatting during a movie is the norm otherwise, and watch two lead characters dominate the story in a single location for 83 minutes. Billed as Pakistan’s first ‘Film Noir’, Tamanna is definitely in a league of its own in the context of Pakistani cinema. Prominent film critic Taran Adarsh raised an important point upon release of the film Barfi!,

“You don’t formulate movies (like Barfi!) targeting its box-office potential or its commercial prospects. You create such films for its passion of cinema.”

Rarely do movies of such calibre come along that transcend generations and provoke our greater thought process, not because of impressive visuals, A-list actors, extravagant set pieces and locales but because of its strong story-driven narrative – narrative that is deeply entrenched into the harsh realities of life, as opposed to a work of fiction.  Dukhtar too has a potential to lay claim to all of that and then some, thanks to its excellent subject matter. [embed width="620"]http://vimeo.com/100581493[/embed] Dukhtar means ‘daughter’ in Farsi and Urdu dialects. The movie is predominately a story about the plights, miseries and ultimately the bravery exhibited by the principal protagonist of the movie, Allah Rakhi (Samiya Mumtaz). Under the banner of The Crew Films, Dukhtar is directed by Afia Nathaniel, who is a graduate of Columbia University School of Arts. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Dukhtar Facebook page[/caption] The movie’s premise revolves around a woman’s struggle, resilience and unwavering perseverance in the face of extreme odds. Rakhi undergoes many trials and tribulations to make sure of the fact that her daughter Zainab (Saleha Aref) doesn’t fall into the dreaded shackles of the same fate, of getting married to an old tribal chieftain, that she had encountered when she was 15-years-old. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Dukhtar Facebook page[/caption] The mere thought of her daughter’s marriage to a much older man sends shivers down her spine and she vows to protect her infantile daughter, who is only 10-years-old, from this draconian custom. Subsequently, as events progress during the course of the movie, she decides, as a last resort, to run from her husband’s home with her daughter to escape the ominous fate which would surely befall her daughter and which seemed more than imminent had she stayed there. Thus, her journey to escape the picturesque and serene northern areas of Pakistan and to reach her hometown of Lahore begins. On the run from her husband and the whole tribal clan, her path gets entwined with an ex-mujahid truck driver, Sohail (Mohib Mirza), who helps her in whatever capacity he can. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="496"] Photo: Dukhtar Facebook page[/caption] Rakhi’s actions and the movie itself will make the audience question the logic behind this antediluvian custom. This archaic tribal ritual of child marriages (child brides) is used as a mean of settling old feuds between rival clans under the guise of “honour”. If bluntly put, this practice is nothing more than satiating one’s vile paedophilic, sadistic and masochistic tendencies coupled with the false bravado associated with it. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Dukhtar Facebook page[/caption] The dialogue delivery of the cast members, especially Mumtaz, is unwavering and strong. Mirza also exhibits a strong portrayal of the character that he plays. The child actor, Saleha, is surprisingly good as well. They are augmented by a strong cast of seasoned actors such as Asif Khan, Ajab Gul, Adnan Shah (Tipu), Abdullah Jan, Samina Ahmed, Zeeshan Shafa and Omair Rana. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Dukhtar Facebook page[/caption] In terms of the visual elements, Dukhtar in a nutshell is breath-taking to look at. Set against the backdrop of gorgeous and surreal locations of Gilgit, Hunza Valley, Skardu and Kallar Valley, it will be, aesthetically speaking, a visual feast for moviegoers. The director does well to differentiate and saturate the visual tones between showing the beautiful, albeit rugged, terrain of northern Pakistan and the monotonous urban concrete jungle that is Lahore. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Dukhtar Facebook page[/caption] In terms of the auditory elements, the music and soundtracks composed for this movie are powerful and complement the storyline very well. Cases in point are, “Jeenay Chaley” by Shafqat Amanat Ali and “Naina” sung by Hina Nasrullah. While the movie depicts a specific backdrop (actors who play Pakhtuns) that can be limited to northern areas, this movie should not be misunderstood as portraying negative stereotypes of a certain ethnicity. It should, instead, be seen as shedding light towards a serious matter in general that is as much prevalent in other parts of our country and has also plagued Sindh, Balochistan and Punjab in equal measure. Additionally, it should also be seen as a catalyst that will hopefully bring attention of relevant authorities towards this menace of child brides, for implementing regulatory frameworks to cease this practice once and for all. The movie has been praised internationally as well. Recently, on September 5, 2014, it was premiered at the prestigious Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) and received widespread acclaim for its story. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="597"] Photo: Dukhtar Facebook page[/caption] Dukhtar opened nationwide in all major cinemas across Pakistan on September 18, 2014, and I would highly recommend people to watch it.

I cannot pinpoint any single incident that sparked off this piece of satire but one of the many triggers for me was the ludicrous vanity that has been displayed in full swing over the past one month. At first, I was very optimistic about this so-called Naya Pakistan. But the kind of polarisation it has created in an already fragmented society is beyond disappointment. Now I fully understand what Aristotle meant when he said,

“Youth is easily deceived, because it is quick to hope”.

“Oye! You liberal fascist, dollar khor! I will be the next prime minister!”

The term “Na maloon afraad”, in recent times, has become almost ubiquitous and synonymous with those unknown/anonymous miscreants that are up to no good at all vis-à-vis to any law and order situation in our major cities. However, this time around, it has a comedic spin surrounding it; enter Na Maloom Afraad, the Pakistani feature movie! [embed width="620"]http://vimeo.com/99359741[/embed] Suffice to say, the consensus will be unanimously positive and endearing when one will head out to the movie theatres to see this particular motion picture; they will be thoroughly entertained and get their money’s worth. It is a pure masala film through and through, which is not a bad thing, seeing how lately there has been a great dearth of unadulterated, solely “paisa wasool” (worth your money) and quality entertainer movies that have been churned out of Lollywood, and Na Maloom Afraad delivers that aspect in abundance. By having Nabeel Qureshi as the director at the helm under the banner of Filmwala pictures, the film benefits greatly as a direct result. He has been acknowledged as one of the few directors that are playing their due and active role to usher in a new wave of contemporary Pakistani cinema. A cinema that is not merely about the “ghundas”, “Maula Jutts” and “Noori Naats” of our world but rather more about substance, quality, well-rounded scripts and overall aesthetics. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="536"] Photo: Na Maloom Afraad Facebook page[/caption] Speaking about the premise of the movie, it swivels around the three main protagonists: Shakeel Bhai (Javed Sheikh), Farhan (Fahad Mustafa) and Moon (Mohsin Abbas Haider). For the sake of not spoiling the story of the movie itself, let’s just say that fate intervenes and due to a series of unfortunate events, their paths get aligned and together, they conspire to plan something ‘big’ to earn fast and easy money. And what that ‘big’ thing is, you might ask? Well, you have to go to cinemas to see for yourself. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="536"] Photo: Na Maloom Afraad Facebook page[/caption] In the acting department, all actors demonstrate their acting prowess sufficiently, especially Fahad and Mohsin. Fahad has transitioned seamlessly from the smaller screen of the drama industry towards the bigger celluloid screen of the cinema format. Javed is, as usual, on point and Urwa Hocane has perhaps given her best performance yet that will strongly cement her position for future movie acting endeavours. Salman Shahid, in his portrayal as Gogi, requires special praise and kudos for the way he has portrayed this character. Perhaps one can’t help but to draw an outright parallel between his on screen persona of Mushtaq Bhai in Dedh Ishqiya and Gogi, but nonetheless his comedic timing remains impeccable as always. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="536"] Photo: Na Maloom Afraad Facebook Page[/caption] Ultimately, it is the trifecta (Javed, Fahad and Mohsin) that carries the movie competently on their shoulders because their chemistry is just amazing and they click and gel in with each other like three peas in a pod. Other cast members include Paras Masroor, Kubra Khan, Ali Rizvi and Nayyar Ejaz; they all hold their own in the limited on-screen time that they are given. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="536"] Photo: Na Maloom Afraad Facebook page[/caption] The director has intentionally opted to choose regular local Karachi landmarks and locations for shooting the bulk of the movie, instead of international exotic locales. Same is the case with shooting the songs of the movie. The subject of the story is such that showing outdoor and extravagant foreign location in large proportions will seem out of place and incompatible with the on-going theme of the movie. In particular, it will resonate well with Karachiites and they surely will appreciate the fact that their daily commuting routes, streets, back alleys and roads are shown extensively in the movie. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="536"] Photo: Na Maloom Afraad Facebook page[/caption] In terms of the musical score of the movie, it will rival any Bollywood flick, as all the songs are catchy and melodious, especially the item song Billi in which Mehwish Hayat exhibits her dancing talent. She is simply scintillating, drop dead gorgeous and spectacular. Finally Pakistanis have an item song they can call their own, without going into the merits or the demerits of the culture of embedding an item song in a movie; it is a reality whether one likes it or not. Instead of playing the usual Munnis, Jalebi Bais and Chikni Chembalis of Bollywood over and over again in our local functions such as weddings and the likes, Billi will be a better if not equal substitute for them for some time to come. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x25e88y_billi-na-maloom-afraad-movie-song-featuring-fahad-mustafa-urwa-hocane-and-javed-shiekh-audio-song_music[/embed] To sum it all up, Na Maloon Afraad doesn’t exactly transcend its genre led clichés but it does however offer quality entertainment in bucket loads. The songs, the comedic timing, the punchy yet idiosyncratic hard-to-forget one liners coupled with an excellent timing that will not drag the film and the subtle social commentary. To the naysayers, it is a request that instead of trying to find flaws in our locally generated movies such as that it’s inspired from the likes of Hera Pheri or any other Bollywood movie, we ought to applaud the fact that after such a long hiatus, some good, wholesome movies are again coming out in Pakistan which are locally made. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="536"] Photo: Na Maloom Afraad Facebook page[/caption] It would be almost criminal (pun intended) to miss this one out. Na Maloon Afraad is a riot, in every sense of the word that would leave its audience short of laughing fits and aneurysms!

Well into my interview with Afia Nathaniel, the Dukhtar movie director puts me on the spot. I am meeting her at the May Fair Hotel in London, right before the European premiere of her first film. Until now, I have had the opportunity to get in a couple of good questions, but now she has taken over. She is wearing what appears to be a red-coloured, gold-patterned cotton kurta and black specs. She starts asking me the questions now, which is my professional nightmare come alive. The filmmaker has become the journalist.

 “How many films can you count on your fingers that have female leads, independent of the men? Tell me, right now. In Pakistan?”

“Two female leads?” counters Afia.

“(Good Morning Karachi) has not been released theatrically in Pakistan.”

“In Pakistan, nobody wanted to finance a film with two women in the lead, by a female filmmaker. That was always a challenge. They felt threatened. They don’t understand if the film doesn’t have an item number or a song and dance routine. It was a bit of a departure. I feel that cinema is at a very exciting stage in Pakistan, even though there aren’t many risks being taken in the industry.”

“What I think Dukhtar has done really different from other films is that we have broken the mould of where we can go with this film. It’s not just for Pakistan, this film has an international audience, which is why we’re so excited that we’re able to bring the dialogue out of Pakistan as well. And in a good way, you know?”

“It’s a story. It’s the nature of the story. It’s a thriller. I mean, you have the good guys, the bad guys in any thriller. And what happens in a thriller? You fear for the good guy or the mission to fail. And that’s what it is. It’s only when you have women on the screen, you are judged by Pakistanis. You’re judged for having a female in the lead, with this issue behind. They immediately judge you as being feminist, which in Pakistan is a gaali. I mean, they don’t think about it in the sense that 50% of the population are women. It’s a right for us to have female protagonists on screen.”

“The film is important in what it’s highlighting, not just for Pakistan but for many other countries as well. It’s topical, but I think at the same time it’s about breaking the silence and the status of a lot of things in our society and culture. I believe our film has done that, in a good way. In a society you always have the progressive side and the conservative side. And it’s important to have some kind of dialogue, even though their views may be polar opposite. But I think it’s important for any journey where change has to happen, it needs to have polar opposites on its side.”

“People often ask me how difficult is it to be a woman in Pakistan and I say it’s not difficult in the sense of my work. Even though I work with 40 men as the only female crew member, I never had a problem with it. I had complete freedom to work as I chose to. It’s about having the right kind of skillset and the respect and then you go from there. Gender is not so much the issue. Gender becomes the issue when you bring it into the film. There’s a distinction. There’s a difference.”

“There’s no true revival. I will say that right now and on record. It’s only survival. There is no revival. Revival happens when you have a critical mass of content in the market. Just having one film every one year or two years is not exactly a revival.”

“It’s a science fiction thriller. I love sci-fi. My all-time favourite is 2001: A Space Odyssey. Kubrick, he’s my favourite filmmaker of all time.”

Rewind 10 or 15 years from today to look at the shape and size of the Pakistani film industry, rather hilariously named as Lollywood, and you will not be able to help but wonder – how on earth did they come such a long way? From the days of dancing actresses trying to seduce their lovers in green fields to ground breaking movies like Bol, Waar, Na Maloom Afraad, Dukhtar, Zinda Bhaag and the likes – the progress and escalation of Lollywood in the right direction is very apparent. There’s a clear improvement in the scripts, the screenplay, direction and every aspect of the movie you would once laugh at if it were a Lollywood movie. That is now changing. There’s no doubt that they still have a long way to go but there’s also no doubt that they have finally embarked upon the right journey. Progress has been phenomenal and evidencing this is the latest addition to the list of achievements of the Pakistani film industry – Sharmeen Obaid Chinoy’s 3 Bahadur. 3 Bahadur is going to be Pakistan’s first ever feature length animated film. The film has been produced by Waadi Animations in association with ARY Films and is yet another reason to be proud of our budding film industry. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2d93sm_3-bahadur-trailer-pakistani-first-full-animated-movie-pakistani-full-animated-movie-2014_shortfilms[/embed] The project, one which seemed overly ambitious and unrealistic when it was initially announced, is all set for release this summer. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="541"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] 3 Bahadur is a 3D animated film, following the adventures of three friends who set out on an epic journey to save their town from the evils that plague it. Equipped with courage and super powers, Amna, Saadi and Kamil (the main characters of the film), battle against the odds to restore peace and harmony to their neighbourhoods. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] Having attended the launch event of the movie and I was lucky enough to hear Chinoy share her thoughts on the project. A very gleeful Chinoy, the proud CEO of Waadi Animations, said:

“Almost three years ago, I had an intense desire to create an animated feature in Pakistan which would appeal to both children and adults alike. I have to admit, venturing into the realm of animation was unchartered territory for me and my team, but everyone quickly warmed up to the idea and we began learning the ropes and assembling a team of some of the best animators in the country to work with us. We are proud to announce and share the fruit of our hard work and efforts; Pakistan’s first animated feature film!”

Lollywood gets an unreasonable amount of flak for being the stepsister of Bollywood; the one that was sent to the village as a child, and says her ‘o’s as ‘a’s – McDonalds becomes ‘MaacdAnalds’ and Ostrich becomes ‘Asstrij’. However, these people fail to realise the deep philosophical ideas expressed by Lollywood songs. Here are some examples of why Lollywood is on par with the greatest philosophers the world has ever seen. 1. Cartesian doubt Philosophical version:

The Cartesian doubt is a method of questioning one’s own beliefs; of being sceptical about all that you hold to be true.

“Sanu Nehar walay pull tay bula kar sohnay mahi kithon reh gaya?” – Noor Jehan (Where did you get caught up after calling me to the bridge on the river?)

A subject learns to respond in a desired manner to an activity which the subject was previously neutral to; through conditioning this neutral stimulus has been associated with an unconditioned stimulus to elicit a desired response – Pavlov’s dogs salivating after listening to the bell – associating the sound with the food.

“Thand paway gee kailajay dildaar, Pyaar dee gandheri chup lay” – Naseebo Lal (You will feel cold inside after slurping on the bamboo of love)

Behaviourism rejects the dualism of the mind and body, hypothesising that love is both observable and quantifiable.

“Cheekhain marta badan mera tu jis walay neeray yaara, jadu maim aahi tay neeray ho manji de vich dhaang pherda” – Naseebo Lal (My body shouts when you are nearby, whenever I am near you the bed makes a noise.)

Plato’s allegory of the cave suggests that people in caves only exposed to the shadows of the light from the sun have never seen the sun and take the shadows to be the complete truth, even though they are mere reflections.

“Kal jab dekha mai nay chand jharokay mai, usko kiya salaam tumharay dhokay mai” – Waris Baig (Yesterday when I looked at the moon, I said hello to it thinking it was you)

“I have a dream that one day, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.”

“Kameez teri kali tay sohnay phoola wali” – Ataulllah Esa Khelvi (Your shirt is black, full of flowers.)

The paradox based on the scenario of a cat, which may be both dead and alive.

“Adhi raat sottay meri laat hilli, lagta hai jiway koi billy shilly hai” (My leg moved while sleeping at night, it felt like there was a cat there.)

In the doctrine of virtue, Kant shows how humanity ought to behave.

“Ama dekh aah dekh tera munda bigra jaye” – Munda Bigra Jaye (Look mother, your son is losing all morals.)

Hegel’s discussion of self-consciousness focuses on how the subjects view other subjects also as objects; the dialectic of the spirit is between this self-consciousness and the need for self-recognition.

“Manji ek tay jawaniyan do… teri lataan day vich pair mu phasana paiya” – Guddu Badmaash (The bed is one but teenagers two, I have no option but to put my foot with your legs.)

The ID is the part of Sigmund Freud’s philosophy that is the compulsive psyche that operates on the pleasure principle.

“Sexy meri shirt, sexy meri pant, mujh ko rakh lay permanent.” (My shirt is sexy, my pants are sexy, you should keep me forever.)

The system of governance based on common ownership where there is no social class, and everyone is equal.

“Tumharay aur meray ghar kay beech mai Larri Ada, yahan sunay ga nahee koi pukaar ye hai larri ada larri ada larri ada” (There is a bus station in between our houses, nobody listens to anyone here this is the bus station.)

After successfully objectifying women in the ‘100 glorious years of Indian cinema’, Bollywood now recognises its part in influencing commoners, what till now has been ‘a bad influence’. It took Bollywood God knows how many Jyoti Singhs to realise what a mess their sexist approach in cinema has caused in populous India. I feel sorry for them. I feel sorry that our neighbours are in trouble; our fellow women are not safe. But at the moment, I’m more concerned about how all this affects Pakistan. Our cinema is going through an interesting phase of its revival, but the same sexist approach has come to trouble us too. Recent series of item numbers in almost every newly released and upcoming Lollywood movie are examples of this approach. You don’t have to be a conservative to understand why an item number is offensive and insulting to a woman. It offends me because: 1. We, women, are not ‘items’ or ‘objects’; we are as human as any gender. 2. Women are not Munnis or Sheilas or Billis (their Pakistani counterpart). 3. Women are not “gutka (tobacco) available for chewing”. 4. We do not go around flaunting our “jawan (young) bodies”. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x25fdm0_billi-song-mehwish-hayat-na-maloom-afraad_music[/embed] I am a liberal who defended Humaima Malick’s right to do the song Namak Paare – because it fitted the role of a bar dancer – as much as I defended Fawad Khan’s right to do a shirtless scene in Khoobsurat. I love Sonam Kapoor and Vidya Balan for their choice of women-centric films, like Dirty Picture. But the makers of unnecessary item numbers are those ‘hypocrite liberals’ who never consider us women as equal to them and use women as ‘objects’ to attract audiences. Some recent examples are the item songs in Pakistani movies Karachi se Lahore, Jalaibee and the not too old, Na Maloom Afraad. Karachi se Lahore released its teaser on March 21, 2015. What is sad and sickening is that the 14-second teaser only includes glimpses of Ayesha Omar as an item girl and ends with the title poster of the film. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2k4b69_ayesha-omar-item-song-in-movie-karachi-se-lahore_shortfilms#from=embediframe[/embed] What a great way to tease the crowd… Right? It seems that the purpose of the teaser was to tell the world that Bulbulay’s Khoobsurat has a bellybutton too. Jalaibee, on the other hand, can be defended by the fact that they showed decent clothing in an item song. Recently, Pakistani heartthrob Hamza Ali Abbasi was quoted as saying:

“I am tremendously proud of Zhalay Sarhadi for not taking her clothes off in her performance in the film. Proud of Yasir Jaswal for not going along with the emerging trend of revealing ‘item numbers’ in Pakistan films.”

“Tere aangan mein hi chamke gi meri ye shookh jawani” (Only in your backyard will my enticing youth shine)

“Gutka main hun chaba le, Baaja main hun baja” (Chew me as I am tobacco and blow me as I am a trumpet)

“The choreography is similar across most (item) songs: one semi-clad women getting leered at by several men, being objectified for the consumption of men and talked of as some kind of dish.”

“It (item song) is an unequal sexuality, where one is the subject and the other, the object. The woman is naked, the man fully dressed. There is no mutuality. The woman sells and the man consumes.”