Review by Ayeronic
Sangat, meaning “saath” or “companionship” offered a very promising, albeit distressing, pilot. From the very start, episode 1 provided fast-paced character introductions, temperate narrative scene-setting, a clear directorial vision and a confidently honest script nuanced with foreshadowing, allusions and metaphorical significance. Viewers would be hard-pressed in needing to speculate as to where this drama is going. And that’s not a bad thing. When the momentous ‘complication’ has been committed, being Ayesha’s harrowingly-depicted physical assault, it leaves way for great acting to be showcased and associated storyline issues to unfold.
Directed by Kashif Nisaar, written by Zafar Mairaj and produced by Mashal Entertainment: there is legitimate hope that drama, like Digest Writer before it, carries with it a social message where the tragic female protagonist finds her veritable place and voice in Pakistani society, as well as in her personal life.”
We have the insightful acting talent of Saba Qamar as Ayesha (Aashi) opposite the versatile Mikaal Zulfiqar who plays her doting, kind, ex-college beau husband, Adnan. To support the on-screen couple is Aashi’s suspicious and oft-moaning mother-in-law played by Samina Ahmad and in support of her super-bhabhi is sympathetic and rational chashmish Farah, Aashi’s sister-in-law portrayed by Kiran Haq. Aashi’s mother (Saba Faisal) is shown to be understated and demure and the evil (probably unhinged with textbook mummy issues) assailant is depicted by Zahid Ahmed.
I always feel a neurotic sense of impending doom when any drama’s exposition is that of the lovely, youthful protagonist (Ayesha/ “Aashi”), full of vitality, contentedly exploring the vast colours (mainly of superfluous kapra and adorable mini-cacti) that life has to offer. There is also a Snow White-esque moment where we find dear Aashi apologising to a personified plant (“mera baccha”), which she has accidentally pummelled with her car and seems genuinely burdened by it. When that happens, we just know: she’s being raised onto a pedestal only to be mercilessly thrown off it. The “too good to be true” complex. It (unfairly) seems almost a natural progression that something heinously unjust and desperately unpalatable is about to happen to poor, perfect Aashi. That, and I’ve seen the promos and OST. I hazard to say, it’s not looking like unicorns and rainbows; but it does look engaging.
For a first episode, it was pretty jam-packed with decisive action. Good for them! By about 8 minutes in, we had: already been Sunday market shopping with Aashi; met Bhabhi-supporter Farah who is unmarried and has exams soon; discovered that Adnan’s Amma eloped with his father with a suitcase akin to a train compartment; and, that Amma’s dying wish (despite being visibly healthy and lucid, with a spot of Diabetes) is to see Aashi and Adnan have children. It turns out that, at present, after two years of marriage, the couple have not produced progeny because Adnan wishes to be comfortably settled ‘abroad’ before adding extra responsibilities to his plate.
That fine Sunday evening during dinner-time Aashi, fed up with all the incessant saas taanay about being bhanj, announces to her saas and nandh the truth about why she and Adnan are not parents yet. Dumbfounded awkwardness ensues at the dinner table which is added to by the fact that Aashi leaves the room and the rest stare wistfully at the dish du jour: ‘yummy’ karelay. Mmm. Realisation dawns on Adnan and he very understandingly permits Aashi to procreate (hallelujah, supreme awkwardness always wins out). Viewers assume Aashi may be expecting now, but it’s not confirmed. Aashi goes to stay with her mother for one night (sans Adnan) where robbers who have been underhandedly informed of Aashi’s mother’s monetary assets rudely interrupt their tea-party. Then things get quite seriously scary. One robber (assumedly the leader – Zahid Ahmed), having watched Aashi from afar, physically removes her from her mother’s presence and takes her forcibly to another room (shown using gratuitous slow-motion special effects, and rape is strongly implied). The other two robbers hold Aashi’s mother hostage while she cleans out her jewellery reserves for them. The episode ends with the implication that the robbery and assault was planned and that a dishevelled and terrified Aashi may know or recognise her assailant.
This turn of events immediately raises some big issues, for example:
How will this impact the content, kind and happy Aashi? How will she cope with it?
Will Aashi tell Adnan, her husband, the truth of exactly what happened to her?
Will the seemingly understanding Adnan support her? To what extent?
If Aashi is expecting, to whom does the paternity belong?
How does Aashi know the assailant and why was it planned, if so?
What are the long-term repercussions of this on Aashi (and her potential child)?
What does Aashi’s (and her potential child’s) future now hold?
Acting-wise, everyone revealed their roles convincingly and to the full extent of the requirements of their character (and the opening episode). I’m also hoping that the screenplay and direction continues to harness the brilliance of the acting talents at their disposal productively. What I was impressed by was the use of words like guilt, innocence, blame, worthiness and so on (in Urdu!) by Adnan, saaso-maa and bhabhi. This was prior to the robbery and struck me as deliberately prophetic buzzwords. Nicely done.
My only concern and minor fear regarding the storyline and associated acting is that this drama has potential to turn solely into a tear-fest. The typical “rothi, dhothi” glycerine-induced-carnage that other “wronged-women”-centric dramas offer. Viewing women plunged into the perpetual depths of hopelessness, despair and un-avenged inequality is majorly depressing. Nevertheless, I have faith in Saba Qamar and in her choice of work. Yes, she often portrays wronged women but their ultimate tenacity and superior judgement makes you want to jump up and fist-bump women everywhere. [Men, please insert your preferred mode of equivalent jubilation here] And that is exactly what society needs to see: when all life gives you is lemons and limes; make a shedload of scunjvi (with some mint and a lot of ice).
With the potential to be an immensely thought-provoking drama, I’m looking forward to how the story unfolds and expresses itself. …Join me next week :-)
Do comment below and share your thoughts on Sangat.
written by– Ayeronic
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