So it’s been a couple of weeks since Chup Raho came to an end… and I’m still on this review – damnit… I’m actually slower than Sameera Fazal’s writing – which is pretty slow by the way!

As heartbreaking as it is to admit, Pakistani writers have a tendency to spoil a really good drama as it progresses down the weeks… and that too in a really bad way. Most if not all of the stuff that I have watched of late becomes a drag towards the end only to have an even more lackluster and unorgasmic climax. And Chup Raho wasn’t too different – what an utterly unimpressive and poorly executed finale that was… and quite overacted as well… well by Jibran Syed at least! It could easily have been cut short by a good 10 episodes!

Having said that… I still think that Chup Raho was indeed one of the more compelling dramas to have hit Pakistani television screens recently. I am of course a die-hard Humsafar fan and a complete sucker for romance, but what really sets this one apart from the rest is it’s story which is a fresh breather from the typical saas, bahoo and husband-with-trusting-issues formula. Chup Raho is a bold and beautiful embrace of ‘the different’ story and does not bank on the same good old fashioned Pakistani Virgin Romance with an irresistibly hot male lead who most of the female audience wishes to get married to at some point during the show’s running, and the dupatta clad prude just waiting to be swept off her feet by him. And also because of its content, it comes as no surprise that Chup Raho has managed to become the center of much talk and criticism.

For those of you who missed this roller-coaster ride with a not-so-steep final fall, Chup Raho is essentially the story of the younger of two sisters – Rameen, played by Sajal Ali who is raped by her brother-in-law and then forced into silence to safeguard her own honor and her elder sister’s marriage until she finally manages to break free from the chains that constrain her happiness. That does sound like the conventional Pakistani drama… but trust me… it’s not.

In the beginning, Rameen along with her parents are off to stay with Manaal (Arjumand Rahim) who has come back to Pakistan with her husband Numair (Jibran Syed) and daughter after a gap of five years, and also to celebrate Rameen’s engagement to Aazir (Feroze Khan) who happens to be Numair’s cousin. At the train station, Numair fails to recognize Rameen and instantly falls for her beauty. Luckily for him… she turns out to be his sister-in-law!

However, in no time it is revealed that Numair is a man of no substance – a sly fox, a womanizer and a mister molester, who poses to be just the exact opposite in front of Manaal. Manaal, who despite her parent’s reservations, trusts him like a fool completely blinded by love.

Numair not only becomes the reason of Rameen’s father’s death, but also rapes her when she is home alone. When Rameen’s mother finds out, she forces Rameen to ‘keep quiet’ and tells her that revealing the truth would not only render her socially unacceptable, but would also ruin her sister’s ‘basa basaya ghar.’ Rameen is left without a choice and agrees.

And hence the real drama begins!

A Shout-out to Muteness

Normally, one would think that keeping such a grave secret is not only an act of cowardice and foolishness, but also an acceptance or a form of endorsement to the heinousness of sexual assault itself. But what comes across as a bigger shocker is the mother declaring Rameen mentally unwell in an attempt to further keep the secret from coming out of the bag when Rameen decides to break her silence on Numair’s monstrousness.

Alright… so the mother had her concerns about the future of both her daughters… which were not too far from legit ether considering the fact that we live in a society that is not too willing to accept sexually harassed women back into the circle with arms wide open. But at that moment, even I was taken aback! I mean… could a mother really do that with her own daughter? Could a mother really force her daughter into suffering silently at the hands of a perv?

And what was also amusing to see was how the mother’s fears turned into a harsh reality for both of her daughters once the ugly male cat was out of the bag. Rameen lost her loser husband’s respect and Manaal’s marriage collapsed over the course of time. I guess the mother was right after all!

So is that really the case? Should some dirty details be kept in the dark for as long as they can in order to prevent jeopardizing other relations? Or should the truth be blatantly told without taking into consideration its potential consequences?

Logically speaking, the latter is the wiser thing to do as there is no honor in silence either. But Chup Raho seems to validate the first. In fact most south Asian dramas thrive on the same philosophy – chup raho till you can bardaasht-ofy, the truth will eventually triumph… even if it takes an eternity.

Of course Rameen and her mother could have been a bit smarter with their decision to play hide-and-seek with the rapist in the same house. Or they could have decided to take Aazir into confidence prior to the marriage. But the mother chose what she felt was best in the interest of both her daughters.

The Glory of Domestic Violence

Rameen’s mother continues to silently push Rameen deeper into the mess until she eventually succumbs to death herself. Aazir on the other hand accuses Rameen of being characterless and begins to physically abuse her in despair. And this is probably the part where Chup Raho got most of its beating as well.

Well there’s nothing new about that except in this case instead of a saas, it’s a brother-in-law and a husband who are inflicting pain on the girl. In fact, I thought that the depiction was a lot more uninhibited than what one would normally expect to see in Pakistani dramas – the rape scene could have been more exciting though.

While Aazir’s behavior towards Rameen was merely a part of the degeneration of his character in the reel world, there are still those in the real world who find it hard to accept men beating up women – even if it is in fiction. Hence it comes as no surprise that Chup Raho has been deemed as an attempt to glorify domestic violence on the screen.

But I guess the problem with this fraction of people is that it gets to emotionally involved in a drama and fails to realize that it is nothing but prime time entertainment.

(Awkward pause)……….

And before I get into trouble for just that… let me clarify myself!

Now I’m not saying that I’m a sadist and that I draw pleasure out of women getting thrashed by their husbands on television (okay… sometimes I do), but I most certainly don’t think such depictions warrant a slap of criticism across the face either. At the end of the day, domestic violence on television does create a stir. It raises eyebrows, drops jaws, generates TRPs and gives people a reason to come back and watch the next episode, right? And let’s face it… a lot of women think that men look totally hot when they’re dominating – they’re just egotistical to accept it!

So I guess the real argument should be – does Chup Raho glorify domestic violence, or is domestic violence even more glorious on television screens?

The Slowest Climax… Ever!

I mean… even snails could beat this one to the finish line!

The last few episodes of Chup Raho were stretched like a piece of distasteful chewing gum… enough for me to question my decision to begin watching a drama that was still on air.

After being thrashed a time too many and being accused of harboring feelings for Numair, Rameen is thrown out of her house by Aazir. She takes refuge in a girl’s hostel where she almost gets herself caught in a prostitution racket. The man to save her from the mess is none other than Sheraz (Yasir Nawaz), who happens to be Numair’s friend. Sheraz is a widower with three daughters who over time become fond of Rameen as does Sheraz himself… and his mother………. and also the rest of the household help.

It was kind of obvious that such a turn of events would eventually take place in the story – Rameen had to find her lost happiness after all. But what was lame was how Sheraz’s re-entry into the screenplay as a more significant character marked the unexplained temporary exit of Manaal and Numair. The two just seemed to have vanished into thin air for a couple of episodes as the story began to uselessly linger on Rameen and Sheraz’s possible future together.

What happened to Manaal and Numair? We knew that their daughter was unwell, but how did she become so sick? And more importantly, how did Manaal finally come to realize that Numair was a jackass of a husband? These were more relevant questions that remained unanswered.

Not to mention, their re-emergence was equally abrupt. Despite his daughter suffering from a life-threatening disease, Numair’s remorse for what he had done with Rameen seemed to be close to non-existent as he still desperately tried to keep her in front of his sleazy eyes. He also hid the reality of Aazir’s death from Rameen and tried to create differences between her and Sheraz.

In the finale, Manaal informs Sheraz about how her husband is cheating Rameen and that he intends to forcefully take her out of town. Sheraz manages to stop Numair who eventually goes mad. Throughout most of the last episode, Numair is seen overacting as a psycho in a mental asylum, while Rameen returns to Sheraz. And Manaal is left wondering in her thoughts as her daughter lies unconscious on the bed.

As I said earlier, Pakistani writers really know how to kill a drama by wandering off into limbo with the story and forcing things into the screenplay while losing focus on more important details. The result is an extended ordeal of boredom that you wished you had skipped altogether. Chup Raho just left so much more to be desired in the end. Did Rameen forgive her sister? How did she cope with Aazir’s death? Did Manaal’s daughter die? Did Numair really have to go crazy? I’d say it could have used a completely different ending.

Nonetheless, despite the shortcomings in the writing that also took a toll on the direction, Chup Raho was brilliantly acted by its principle lead cast and was still a worthy watch.

But wait… there’s more.

A Bias Towards Men Disguised as Injustice Towards Women

For many Chup Raho is not just a story full of drama; rather it is about a stereotype that prevails in our society – the bitter truth about a woman’s helplessness against sexual abuse and domestic violence.

However, in between all the harassing and thrashing that Rameen suffered at the hands of Numair and Aazir, I picked a subtle undertone of hatred towards the male gender. At several occasions, the women – Rameen, Manaal and their mother – seemed to assert the claim that ‘mard to mard hi hota hai aakhir’ (men will be men after all).

Whether it was Rameen not wanting to stay at home when Aazir’s brother-in-law was around because she thought that he might rape her as well, or whether it was Manaal’s mother talking about her own husband. Whether is was Manaal talking about Aazir, or whether it was Rameen who still thought that a man who just saved her from a couple of goons was just as bad as the goons as well. As helpless as the women in Chup Raho seemed to be, they never held themselves back from throwing a truck of crap at a man… the man who never deserved to be hit in the first place.

Now wait a minute! Is that implying that all men fancy abusing women verbally, physically and sexually? Are men being pigeonholed into a form of social monsters that quench their thirst off the tears of women? Are all men rapists? At least that’s how I felt while watching Chup Raho.

Rameen’s constant screaming at Numair, Aazir and later at Sheraz shrieked through my ears and made me realize that while women typically are the ones squished under the social mallet, it’s the men who don’t harass them that get the other side of the tool up their butt! Say… why is there no drama on how women abuse men? Or even better… why aren’t there more dramas on how women abuse men than the other way around?