In episodes 7 and 8, Faraar hits a new crescendo. In a highly awaited confrontation, Chaudhry Akram (Haseeb Khan) faces off with his brother-in-law (Hassan Niazi, delivering a chilling performance). His unflinching expressions and powerful voice exude an aura of menace and the brutality is unflinching. This remorseless murder colors the successive events of the show even those that seem unrelated. Anything can happen and no one is safe.
Meanwhile, Nazish (Sohai Ali Abro) caught in the crossfire of power and violence, makes a desperate escape taking with her the cash Chaudry had set aside for her. In a poignant flashback, she confronts Chaudhry’s hypocrisy, accusing him of mirroring his brother-in-law’s abusive behavior. This scene adds emotional depth and a subtle feminist critique as it highlights the cyclical nature of violence and systemic issues faced by women. Chaudhry’s dismissive quip about Nazish starting an “Aurat March” perfectly illustrates the difference between prescriptive and descriptive. As one character mocks feminist ideals the show continues to spark broader reflections on societal attitudes.
In an eerily nonchalant conversation with her brother, Chaudrani (Nadia Jamil) reduces their heinous crimes to a mere “game.” Nazish and Chaudry were not people to them at all but pawns in this game, a “snake” and “naagin” that they can manipulate to their own ends. The conversation between the siblings is eerily casual. This creepy dynamic between the siblings reinforces their moral detachment and deep-seated depravity. In a stark juxtaposition, Chaudrani is later seen dancing with a helper—a moment that underscores the unsettling elation despite the darkness enveloping her world. This shows layers to her character, portraying her as both chillingly indifferent and disturbingly relatable.
During a press conference, Shakila and her brothers reframe the murder as “not an attack on our family but an attack on democracy”. With calculated precision, they accuse Nazish of masterminding the crime while concealing the truth about her being Chaudhry’s legally wedded second wife (a fact even Shakila is unaware of). This deliberate omission highlights the web of distrust and fear underpinning their united front. Carefully crafted lies and strategic decisions emphasize the political stakes, offering a sharp critique of how personal vendettas are often cloaked in the guise of protecting public institutions.
Away from the halls of power, lovestruck Batish (Hamza Ali Abbasi) attempts to visit Sadia, unaware that she has moved thanks to Fasih’s (Ahmed Ali Akbar) hospitality. Instead of his lady love, he is met with the police, but their sting operation unravels spectacularly when Fasih’s phone rings at the worst possible moment. Batish is tipped off and escapes with ease. Fasih is clearly needs to revise policing 101—perhaps starting with “silence your phone during operations.” This humorous, albeit frustrating, twist, shows the recurring incompetence of Fasih and his team.
Similarly, Naseer Bhai’s (Tanveer Syed) relentless pursuit of Batish also ends in humiliating failure. After multiple attempts he has not succeeded and Shah Sahab is not happy. He is demoted to the role of driver, much to the joy of minions Saleem and Javed who are eager to see his downfall.
One thing leads to another and he is intercepted and taken into police custody. But he’s not going down alone. When our favourite investigating officer, Fasih employs his signature “persuasion techniques” (read: police ka danda), Naseer Bhai spills critical information about QIP’s target killings and Batish’s whereabouts.
Hot on the tracks of our fugitive Batish, Shah Sahab’s aide Javed visits D.J. Sindh Govt. Science College the alma mater of the infamous Batish and his musician buddy, Faraz (Haroon Shahid). I wonder what did Batish study in this science college. How to work on his chemistry with Sadia? Or did he excel in physics by calculating the perfect trigger pull? He does manage to down Faraz’s address, and after a tense chase, he and Saleem briefly corner Batish and Faraz. But, because incompetence is contagious, they promptly lose them again.
Hot on the same trail Faish, our fearless officer, arrives fashionably late reaching the college and Faraz’s address just in time to miss the action just like any stereotypical police. It’s starting to seem like the cast of characters in this drama are competing in some sort of “Who Can Be the Most Inept” contest.
Taking a lighter turn, in the scenic valleys of Swabi, Babrik (Danyal Zafar) gets an earful from his uncle who is his fiancée’s father (Hassan Noman). Babrik had made the genius move of sending a phone to Zallay in a fruit basket and now it’s been caught! His uncle (also his fiance’s father)berates him for tarnishing the family’s reputation burdening his hardworking father. The uncle proposes a solution: he’ll send Babrik to Europe to find work and turn his life around.However, this suggestion raises questions: is it a genuine opportunity for growth or a ploy to remove him from the picture? A chance for redemption or ulterior motives at play? Babrik’s future, much like his decisions, remains uncertain.
These episodes weave intense drama with moments of levity, such as Fasih’s botched sting operation and Babrik’s fruit basket debacle. The standout, however, is Faraz’s newfound prominence (and name!)—finally shedding his role as Batish’s voice of reason and stepping into the action. Here’s hoping his character gets a promotion from “cautionary sidekick” to full-fledged plot participant in the coming episodes.
While some subplots feel underdeveloped or peripheral , the nuanced portrayal of characters like Chaudrani, with her unsettling humor amidst chaos has me hooked. This thrilling crime dramas also manages to critique ocietal norms, particularly regarding gender and power sparking thought-provoking conversations. Faraar’s blend of tension, humor, and tantalizingly unresolved threads continue to intrigue, setting the stage for even more gripping developments in the episodes to come.
Read more: Episode Recaps of Faraar
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