March 6, 2024
Pakistani Dramas: A Culture Clash Across Continents
By John Myers
By Sheema Zaira
Engulfed by a forever blazing sun, in a village of scattered bricks and stray dogs, a train roars across the railway. It jolts the villagers awake like an outlet’s occasional electric shock. In this village, everyone knows each other’s business, as if they all live in transparent glass buildings instead of cramped, cement homes. In this village, people wobble in bright-colored auto rickshaws to get from place to place, home to home, passing by bushes that grow more thorns than roses.
In this village, 31 years ago, my mother’s sixteen year old self wiped sweat from her forehead as she finished her chores for the day. She joined her family around a tiny television, praying the power wouldn’t go out. She was tired of absorbing herself in random errands, desperately waiting for time to quicken its pace. Picking up a blanket over here, washing that dish over there, until her mother scolded her to stay put. Even today, my mother’s impulsive cleaning habits annoy everyone.
Her favorite Pakistani drama, Dariya (“The River”) played every day at 8:00 PM sharp. She didn’t want to be the only one in her family to miss the first few minutes of the show, but she also didn’t want to sit in front of the television and stare at a blank screen. For her family, and for her whole village in fact, the black-and-white television screen was ironically the most colorful part of their day. For the next hour, her family would tune into the only satellite channel they could afford: Pakistan Television Corporation, also known as PTV. In between tedious news commentary programs and overhyped sports competitions, PTV would occasionally air dramatic series. Not even the Pakistani entertainment industry could predict that in the next few decades, these drama series would become a sensation to millions in Pakistan.
Through Pakistan’s joint-family system, multiple families lived together under a single roof. But any tension between these extended family members was put on hold once they tuned in to watch the dramas. Grandparents took a break from complaining about their joints, aunts and uncles sat down in the same room, and children would scramble for the best spot to see the television. Over a hot dinner, the screen captured everyone’s eyes and rested everyone’s mind, at least for the next hour.
Blockbuster serials such as Tanhaiyan (“The Loneliness”) and Dhoop Kinare (“In the Corners of Sunshine”) were some of the 80’s classics that modern Pakistani dramas are compared to today. Both of these dramas were emotional journeys with well-written and complex characters. To my surprise, these dramas were ahead of their times, portraying some women as housewives and some as career-focused, without shaming either of them. The stories weren’t as vulgar, and marriage was not the center of the dramas. Comedies, historical fiction, and mysteries portrayed memorable stories to challenge the mindset of the audience.
Two decades ago, my mother immigrated to New York City. Technology had begun to change normal lifestyles. For the first time, she had a color television, one with infinite channels for her to scroll through.
Unlike my mother’s village, this city rested under indigo skies and satellites twinkled in the place of stars. In this city, the sirens of distant ambulances and shouts of closeby neighbors replaced the chirps of crickets and the caws of crows.
In this city, my older sister and I began our mornings with another episode of Caillou, and ended our nights by nestling on my mother’s shoulders, watching Pakistani serials. My sister’s Urdu is stronger because she’s older. She is able to preserve her heritage, unlike me who relies on the new English Subtitles feature in Pakistani dramas to properly understand what the characters are saying.
Soon enough, our American values began to clash with our Pakistani norms. In American shows, couples openly kissed each other, and it was common for women to wear shorts and tight tank tops. In Pakistani dramas, on the other hand, couples barely even hugged each other and women usually wore modest clothing. This confusion and discontinuity of values produced a new generation of Pakistani Americans, those who have to juggle contradicting cultural ideals.
Hussnain Shah is the principal of a middle school in Pakistan and has a Masters degree in Education from the University of San Francisco. According to Shah, the movement of Pakistani dramas to adapt to more Western ideals is related to the mass assimilation of the new generation of Pakistanis living abroad. Shah says, “There is also a lot of hopelessness that is seen regarding the country, especially due to tough economic times. Many younger Pakistanis are also losing their sense of identity, as they continue to view Pakistani culture as inferior to Western culture and many speak better English than Urdu.”
There is a clear shift in Pakistani dramas who are now glorifying the culture of the West. Despite Pakistan being a Muslm country, these serials portray Islam as backwards and oppressive. Dramas such as Malal-E-Yaar (“Regret of One’s Beloved”) portray religious Muslims as extremists and romanticize forced Nikkahs (marriage contract). Since younger Pakistanis can relate to the “progressive” views of the West, the Pakistani entertainment industry is using this trend to market their dramas. Another drama, Mere Humsafar (“My Companion”), represents the male lead, who comes back from living abroad, as a savior of the victimized female protagonist. He constantly compares Eastern women to Western ones, and shames the former through exaggerated stereotypes, yet he still remains the charming hero to the audience.
The dramas my sister and I grew up watching were drastically different from the ones my mother watched when she was our age. In modern serials, Western thought, clothing, and behavior are idolized. Housewives are commonly portrayed as weak and delicate girls compared to the feisty and independent depiction of modern, career-boss women. Ironically, Pakistani actors are just as light-skinned as the white actors in American shows due to the normalization of skin whitening in South Asia.
Although my mother enjoys the new Pakistani dramas, she openly admits these dramas are not realistic. She mentioned, “The culture in these dramas is not Pakistani culture, it’s not our culture”. While I understand the negative aspects of Pakistani dramas, they have allowed me to stay connected to my roots and be more interested in heritage. I have learned more about Pakistani habits and lifestyles. By challenging some of the norms of Pakistani culture, I become more embedded in it. Living outside of Pakistan has allowed me to create my own culture and form a mixture of values. I am proud of my heritage, proud to be American, and especially proud to be Pakistani American.
