Mahira Plays Quirky Urban Girl In Up-coming Sheharyar Munawer Venture

Mahira Khan. - Photo courtesy: Official Mahira Khan Facebook page.

Sheharyar Munawer Siddiqui, who is known for his notable role in Meray Dard Ko Jo Zuban Miley, numerous advertisements and prom king-esque looks, will soon be seen on the big screen in Hamza Ali Abbasi's Kambakht. 

However, the actor is not stopping there. He is currently producing and acting in a movie titled Ho Mann Jahaan (working title) that stars the gorgeous Mahira Khan as well as hearthrob Adeel Hussain.

Speaking to Dawn.com, Sheharyar shares: "The movie will be directed by renowned ad filmmaker Asim Raza. I am producing the venture as well as acting in it myself. Mahira Khan, Adeel Hussain, Sonya Jehan will also be seen in prominent roles. The movie is an urban contemporary youth story."

He also revealed, "We are done with 20 days of shooting. We have 40 days of shooting left so we have a long way to go still."

While the cast and crew were tight-lipped about details, we do know that it is a coming of age story focusing on three friends.

Mahira Khan tells us that her role in the movie is unlike her usual shalwar kameez clad damsel in distress characters on TV.

"She is an urban girl. Even Shehr-e-Zaat's Falak, which was a modern character, wasn’t like this. She’s a musician, she’s just a nice, sorted girl of today, a real person. She has her quirks but she’s a regular girl. Feeha Jamshed will be doing most of the wardrobe for this character and has designed some outfits especially for this role. "

The Humsafar star further adds: "For me, it’s a departure of sorts. When I do dramas, I feel like it is usually around a specific character. But this is about three friends, about a slice of life."

The movie is slated for release sometime in 2015.

India and Pakistan: The fault is not in our stars

In the hands of zealots and fanatics, the stories become an argument against all peace initiatives, making the journey all the more strenuous. —Reuters

“The fault, dear Brutus”, Cassius says in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar,” is not in our stars, but in ourselves”.
Years and years of ‘Aman ke Aashas’ and cabinet level meetings, of confidence-building measures and sari exchanges, of showing up at swearing-in ceremonies and civil society initiatives ... and then they all come tumbling down.

Slowly, painfully, assiduously we pick up the beads and start threading them. Each pearl is accounted for, each step pondered over, but then one slip and the process has to start afresh.

Extravagant, excessive preparations are made to make an omelet of reconciliation. Then a singular egg turns out to be bad, and the food gets spoil.

It is not that we do not comprehend the need to establish friendly relations. The inevitable falling back to the narratives of peace and of building goodwill, the talks of overcoming the barriers and the friendly gestures all betray the understanding of the necessity of peace that persists among members of the public. If there was a lack of will, these processes would never have initiated, ab initiation.

When the anger subsides, the realization returns that belligerence is not a sustainable model; it cannot persevere, it has to stop.

Why, then, do these initiatives fail time and again?

It is because the animosity is too deep, the sentiments too fragile, the composure too fickle and the hurdles too many. It is this peculiarity which exists in men the world over, but most of all in the men of the subcontinent – the unyielding hubris, and the vanity. That is all it takes to lose focus of the objectives.

All it requires is one Vikram Sood and one Amir Liaqat, and a single moment of commentary in the presence of a jeering, thumping crowd.

All it demands is a single brainwashed soldier, who knows nothing better, and a moment of inhumanity that clouds the mind, to undo years of hard work.

This then gets shared, accumulates airtime, gains public attention and plays on the minds of the two nations – the nations, mind you, who are not wary of barbaric reactions themselves.

Gojra and Gujrat; Babri mosque in Ayodhya and Sri Krishna Ram temple in Karachi; the forced conversions in Uttar Pradesh and the forced conversions in Upper Sindh; all indicate to one aspect of the two nations: despite the animosity, and the overbearing pride in individuality, we are not too different.

We are more alike in treating our minorities than we would feel comfortable to admit.

In the hands of zealots and fanatics, the stories become an argument against all peace initiatives, making the journey all the more strenuous.

Patriotism becomes analogous to war cries, and public representatives, forever ready to pounce on a chance to gain some cheap publicity, dish out threatening statements, basking in their bubbles and relishing the short-lasting pertinence.

Unfortunately, the hawks always take over the narrative in these moments. The cardinal rule of perception is that the more intense, the more enduring statements would be perceived more readily by the public. These bring in ratings, and popularity. They ring home with the fable that has been etched in the conscience of the two countries. In the river of peace, the few ripples of pugnacity get noticed, and the relative sustaining calm gets easily ignored.

Philosophy believes the solutions do exist. Saadi Sherazi, the Persian poet had written:

Garat Khoway man amad nasazawar;


Tu khoway naik-e-khawaish az dast maguzar

[If my nature does not bode well with you, you don’t have to lose your own good nature because of it.]
Or like Marcus Aurelius, one of the five good emperors of Machiavelli, puts it: “The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury”.

 

One of the two nations would have to show magnanimity; one of the two would have to sacrifice; and one of the two would have to take a leap of faith.

 

The warmongering would have to take a backseat, despite the excesses from the other side. Hearts would have to be won, foremost. Paranoia would have to be placated. Without this, the current state of affairs would persist.

Building any relationship requires working, but the one that comes with this much baggage requires the most. This is a rut, escaping from which requires considerable courage, ability to forgive and a lot more forbearance than we have shown the capability of.

The fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves.

Zikris Under Fire

Women standing on the steps of a Zikri praying area in Teertej, Awaran. —Fahim Siddiqi/White Star

 

THE traditionally secular nature of Baloch society has been under threat for some time, and things appear to be taking a turn for the worse. A report in this paper recently detailed the growing persecution of the small community of Zikris — a little-known Islamic sect — who are concentrated mainly in southern Balochistan. In July, several Zikris were injured when a bus carrying members of the community was the target of a roadside bomb in Khuzdar, and the following month their Khana-i-zikr in district Awaran was attacked. Six worshippers were killed and seven injured. Around 400 Zikris have moved out of the area after the incident. Members of the community have also been singled out in various cases of looting in Awaran and Turbat. These incidents have reportedly begun to vitiate the traditionally harmonious relationship between Zikris and other Muslim sects whose lives are often intertwined through ties of kinship.

Although the Zikris — unlike the Hazaras — are ethnic Baloch, there has been a consistent effort led by religious parties in the province to marginalise them on account of what are considered their unorthodox practices. These efforts gained further strength from regional developments, such as the Afghan war of the early ’80s, which led to the proliferation of madressahs in the province churning out jihadis for the next-door theatre of war. Upon returning home, the governance void that has long been Balochistan allowed them to entrench themselves, and sow discord among the Baloch along religious lines. By doing so, they also served the interests of state elements cynically patronising ideologically-driven extremist groups to counter the Baloch insurgency which, like the society from which it arises, is secular in character. A people divided are, after all, easier to control. This provincial government, with its nationalist credentials and representative aspects, is better placed than many others to demonstrate a real understanding of the problems that bedevil the province. But it has yet to demonstrate it has the courage to do something about them.