Stop glorifying narcissistic men and the ‘toxic hero culture!

Karachi: The idea of love and passion that is promoted, supported, and projected on mainstream media today is a lethal mix with uniform recipe — one that we have seen, ingested, and unknowingly internalised ad nauseam.

From extramarital affairs to defending misogyny, everything is justified in the content that we see and the currently trending subtle acts of abuse that are neatly swept under the rug and mostly singled out to female characters in the story are all ingredients in this cocktail.

Periods of quiet, longing, patience, controlled tears, and years of yearning, the mere sound and aroma of one’s beloved, withered letters, fleeting looks, and the evergreen pinnacle of romantic rendezvous — the rain — were all part of old-school romance and love stories.

The idea of passionate love in the twenty-first century is a little different. It’s incredibly conditional, materialistic, and full of compromises. It can no longer be coupled with impractical phrases like “selflessness” and “unconditional love.” When things don’t go as planned in a one-sided dynamic or even between a couple, letting go is a fundamental trait of a halfway acceptable romance.

A look at the plots of current primetime Pakistani Urdu drama serials would make viewers question whether this is what romance should be like, and how horribly misleading the scripts of our dramas can be when it comes to portraying romance.

On Pakistani television, a self-destructive concept of love has become popular, presented as the epitome of passion and intensity, and it is up to the producers and drama writers to reverse this toxic narrative. Here are some of the most repulsive romantic concepts we’ve been offered.

Fitoor

Haider (Faysal Qureshi), a filthy rich man, marries Dilnasheen (Hiba Bukhari), an innocent young woman half his age. She recently broke her romance with Hamza (Wahaj Ali) before marrying Haider since both Hamza and Dilnasheen’s families refused to approve of their marriage (owing to social class disparities), after which Hamza attempted suicide and, despite surviving, turned to drugs to cope up with the heartbreak.

Despite having a new wife whom he casually ignores, Haider continues to lavish time, attention, and passion on his first love and first cousin Mehmal (Kiran Haq). Mehmal is already married and has a six-year-old kid with another man. Haider even tells his wife Dilnasheen that Mehmal is and always will be his first love, but he is determined to make his marriage work.

Dilnasheen falls in love with Haider and tries her hardest to win his heart, but she later discovers that her husband is having an affair with Mehmal, booking a hotel room under the name “Mr and Mrs Haider,” after which Haider’s mother brings Mehmal home from the hotel — ostensibly to save her son’s marriage. While this toxic love triangle plays out under one roof, Haider warns his naïve wife that he will never tolerate even the tiniest romantic association she may have had with any man, even if it occurred before they were married.

Dilnasheen’s relationship with Hamza is subsequently used by Mehmal, who labels it an “affair” and blackmails her. It’s beyond anyone’s belief how people are able to accept this heinous plot riddled with double standards as a gripping love story.

Khuda Aur Mohabbat

Farhad (Feroze Khan), a jobless college dropout from a lower middle-class family, falls in love with Mahi (Iqra Aziz), the only daughter of a wealthy and conservative land-owning family entangled in political squabbles. Farhad falls completely over heals in love with Mahi after meeting her for two days at a wedding when she casually offers to be friends with him, despite her having no interest in him.

He then follows her all the way to her hometown, where he sets up shop as a live-in driver. Even after she dismisses him, makes it apparent she has no feelings for him, and instructs him to get lost, he refuses to leave, despite the vast social divide between them. Farhad curses Mahi and gives her a ‘baddua,’ which fills her with remorse, just before she is to be engaged to another wealthy landowner.

Mahi’s new husband is killed the night of their wedding, and we’re led to assume that this is her retribution for rejecting ‘real love’ in the form of Farhad. Where is the Khuda (God) in what appears to be promoted as mohabbat (love) in this drama’s storey? In the wonderfully shot season three of the Khuda Aur Mohabbat series, there is no divinity in the representation of love. It has only confirmed the existence of stalker syndrome, which has been justified with religious and mystic undertones.

Ishq Hai

Ishq Hai was the same stale plot that we’ve been watching on our TV screens for years. Minal Khan, who played Isra, and Danish Taimoor, who played Shahzaib, were in love but didn’t tell their families. Both came from wealthy households, with Shahzaib running the family business and Isra being the spoiled daughter of her parents.

In the TV series Ishq Hai, Isra and Shahzaib’s relationship became increasingly toxic with each episode. Shahzaib was a man who would not accept ‘no’ for an answer. To have his way, he manipulated, blackmailed, coerced, and even kidnapped Isra. The show was an honest portrayal of what abusive relationships looked like. And we’re not simply referring to romantic relationships. The drama sadly had no room for love but toxicity.

Qayamat

Thinking marrying off their spoiled son to a woman who will ‘fix’ him, a union takes place between Samrah (Amar Khan) and Rashid (Ahsan Khan) who while he’s married and even before he got has a full-fledged romance with a stage dancer.

When Samrah raises her voice and begs her husband for some scraps of loyalty, he becomes infuriated and pushes her when she is nearly nine months pregnant, killing her in the process. Ifrah (Neelam Munir), Samrah’s younger sister, is compelled to marry him in order to care for and raise his daughter (also her niece). Despite his despicably awful demeanour, Ifrah falls for him, and we’re supposed to stomach their relationship while applauding his illusory conversion. Soon after, he reveals his true colours, and Ifrah realises what a very oppressive guy her husband is, vowing never to forgive him. Nonetheless, she remains married to him and accepts him. It’s finally over.

Where is the agency or sense of judgement of a young educated woman? In the name of marital pleasure and affection, what are these characters offering to the audience?

Aye Musht E Khaak

“A fascinating tale of the longstanding fight between good and evil,” the play is described as. It portrays Feroze Khan and Sana Javed as two extremely different people with opposite ideas on life who come together and discover how the path of justice triumphs despite wrongdoings.

Mustajab (Feroze) and Dua’s (Sana) lives take an unexpected turn when Mustajab falls in love with Dua, on the other hand, is adamant about not feeling the same way. Furthermore, Mustajab becomes angry when he is rebuffed, and his love for Dua rapidly becomes an obsession. Mustajab forgets to distinguish between love and stubbornness as a series of lies and deceptions continues. The series also faced flak for showcasing violence in the form of multiple physical assaults by Mustajab on one of his exes (Nimra Khan.)

Aye Musht-e-Khaak isn’t the first or last drama in the world (or Pakistan) to pit virtue against evil in a married relationship, and it’s unlikely to be the last. Its problem isn’t with the conventional idea; rather, it’s with the brutality that the main character Mustajab has expertly woven into the plot.

Ruposh (Telefilm)

Salar Shah, played by Haroon Kadwani, is a well-known university student and popular guy who comes from an upper-class family and is known for his haughty and arrogant demeanour. He has had some traumatic encounters with his family as a result of his parents’ conflicts, which is why he is now living apart from them.

On the other hand, Kinza Hashmi’s Zunaira aka Zooni, the leading female character, is a frank middle-class girl in university who is serious about her academics and trying to alter her family’s fate.

Kadwani’s violent and abusive role as a lover was also compared to actor Feroze Khan by online users. Furthermore, his appearance on national television pulling Kinza Hashmi’s hair and portraying an abusive incident drew a lot of attention on social media for all the wrong reasons.

Although the Pakistani drama business is slowly modernising, it still portrays abusive relationships and poisonous male protagonists. We must stop educating women that they must accept such men because they are in love since this is clearly obsessive and sociopathic behaviour, not love.

Moreover, if there is a need to show such characters, then they should be the villains rather than being the heroes.

Hum Kahan Kay Sachay Thay

Hum Kahan Kay Sachay Thay had high expectations because of its star-studded cast. People expected good stuff because it included superstars Mahira Khan, Usman Mukhtar and Kubra Khan. The drama, on the other hand, has greatly disappointed the audience.

TV show runners must realise that violence is more than simply physical abuse, and that it may manifest itself in a variety of ways. In Hum Kahan Kay Sachay Thay, Aswad may not have physically abused Mehreen or any other woman, but his acts and demeanour toward her are abusive. He cut her off from her friends and family by shutting her in his house, refused to consider her mental health, and even when she is spotted suffering an asthma attack, he stands there and accuses her of acting for sympathy.

Mehreen is noticeably terrified of Aswad since his character was not redeemed or a break from the misogyny represented on film, but he was the embodiment of what a toxic male hero is.

What’s even more appalling is the number of views and TRPs such plots get, which only encourages the channel to follow suit when we should be moving towards more progressive storylines, female and male characters. “Teach girls how to come out of such relationships. Educate people about narcissistic behaviours. Tell girls that it is NOT okay to settle for such a man. But do not misguide a whole generation who consumes TV shows on daily basis, please.” – Nemrah Ahmad Niazi