Caution: A slightly more profound and less humorous rant coming your way. Possibly along with some spoilers.

~*~

So, 'Alif' has been on my watch list ever since I started checking out Pakistani dramas. I watched Sajal's performances in 'Yeh Dil Mera' (a story that provoked quite an emotional response from me despite possessing several technical flaws) followed by 'Yakeen Ka Safar' (far superior to Yeh Dil Mera in terms of technicalities, but one that had less of a personal impact on me) and was quite impressed with them (despite her slight hysterical tendencies as Aina, and because of her more controlled performance as Zubia). And obviously, after watching Sajal on screen with her real-life partner Ahad, it's impossible not to turn into a #Sahad (yes, unless you're not living under a social media rock, that is their ship name) shipper.

I'd been postponing watching 'Alif' for mainly two reasons-the first being that I was obviously apprehensive about seeing Sajal cast opposite someone else due to my shipper tendencies, and the second being that 'Alif' was described as a 'spiritual drama' in terms of its genre. And let's just say, spirituality (at least, the the religious kind) and I don't really gel very well.

Despite all these caveats and doubts in my head, I finally decided to give it a go, and I'm happy to report that I definitely don't regret the experience. And as usual, after watching 24 episodes (yes, Pakistani shows are finite with a small number of episodes which are usually around forty minutes long, in case you're wondering), I have a lot of opinions and thoughts that I need to gather. So, let's dive right in, shall we?

'Alif' starts off rather plainly with an eight-year-old Momin (meaning, one who believes in God) writing letters to the almighty. His father's whereabouts have been unbeknownst to him and his mother for the past year and he hopes that Allah will respond to his entreaties if he pens down letters. That's what he's been brought up to believe. He certainly lives up to his name and is a true individual of faith.

Cut to a few decades later, and we see the same 'Momin' all grown up. Except he's no longer the innocent believer he used to be. He's now Qalb-e-Momin (played by Hamza Ali Abbasi), one of Pakistan's most successful film directors, responsible for dishing out some of the greatest commercial blockbusters in the last few years. So much so, that even struggling actress Momina Sultan (played by Sajal, of course. Momin and Momina...kind of has a nice ring to it don't you think?) thinks that landing a part in his film will not only help her pay for her sick brother's treatment but also open up new avenues in terms of career opportunities. 

And in just a few scenes, it's established that circumstances have turned Qalb-e-Momin into an unabashed atheist. What has brought about this transformation? What familial tragedy took place several years ago that led him to lose his faith and end up resenting his mother? Also, how are Momin and Momina's pasts interlinked? These are the questions we get the answers to by the time the final credits roll.

The first thing that intrigued me about the show is that it unfolds in two timelines-one set in contemporary Pakistan where morality and substance seems to have taken a nose dive in a film industry now ruled by artifice and pomp, and one set in seventies or eighties when the industry was of a more pristine nature. This juxtaposition immediately piques your interest. Furthermore, the present timeline focusses on Qalb-e-Momin as an adult, and the other chronicles the lives of his parents (yesteryear's famous actress Husn-e-Jahan, played by Kubra Khan and calligrapher Taha Abdul Ala, played by Ehsan Khan) and the various obstacles to their romance. 

I loved the introductory episode and the establishment of the lead characters, as well as Alif's cinematic universe as a whole. Momin is happy living a rather carefree life, lost in the glitz and razzle-dazzle of showbiz. But things take a rather sombre turn with the unannounced arrival of Momin's conservative and religiously inclined grandfather (the OG calligrapher, it appears, who's written only the lord's name in his works of art), Abdul Ala. Abdul Ala is noticeably displeasured by Momin's lack of faith but he's never too vocal about expressing his disapproval. His digs and taunts are quite subtle (and actually quite underhanded, if you ask me) and they do succeed in troubling and worrying Momin despite the facade he maintains of being unaffected by them.

As I kept watching the next few episodes, an odd sense of discomfort began to creep in on me. As Abdul Ala repeatedly questioned and attacked Momin's ideals, I felt almost as if he were attacking me at a personal level. Because Momin and I (and I'm sure many others), are pretty much the same person (here, I'm doing my thing again where I relate to one character and view the entire show from his lens. I don't know if this is a flaw of mine as a critic or not, but it's just my nature). I wouldn't go as far as to call myself an atheist, but over the years, I've definitely turned into an agnostic of sorts. Perhaps all the science I've studied has made me dismissive of religious customs (not that my family is religious in the slightest, but me even less so). Also, just like Momin, I'm as materialistic and blunt as it gets. 

So, when Momin comes up with arguments defending his work (commercial cinema that contains item numbers that his grandfather considers vulgarity) and fame, I scream, 'Right on!' and take his side. Especially because you see that Momin isn't really a bad person, as much as he's a self-absorbed one. He truly respects and cherishes his bond with his grandfather despite the difference in their outlooks.

And it got me thinking, why is it that commercial cinema is deemed 'soulless' by some pseudo-intellectuals (here represented by Abdul Ala)? Some of the greatest financial successes in Bollywood are those films which had 'heart' more than anything else. They had characters whose emotional journeys viewers were invested in. Take '3 Idiots' for example. Or even 'Dangal' or 'Bajrangi Bhaijaan' for that matter. 

Also, the initial conflict between Abdul Ala and Momin treads on propagating quite a dangerous idea- the fact that only movies with a religious intonation can truly touch the lives of the audience, or in other words 'ruhaaniyat' or 'spirituality' is always religious in nature. When Momin takes up the challenge of making such a film with a spiritual theme, almost all his sponsors and actors start backing out of the project. But it isn't this fact which is the most worrying to him. As time goes by, he realises that he has absolutely no vision or idea with respect to the fictional world he's supposed to create. And this is apparent to every one who is linked to the film, be it his trusted crew, Tina and Dawood (who are excellent and very supportive assistants), his lead actress Shelly, or the reporters in the media. LOL. His responses whenever anyone asks about the story is almost always channelling Munna Bhaiyya in this scene-

Eventually, he realises (as well as me, of course, cause I'm walking along with him on this journey) that his characters on screen lack depth because he has locked up a whole barrage of emotions within himself, related to his past, and has been hiding under the guise of a non-believer to do so. His crisis is as much existential as it is spiritual. He starts to question every thing he knows to be true as all his fame, success, as well as interpersonal relationships start to abandon him. And that's when he decides to go on a path of self-discovery and dig into his past.  

This is also when we get the exact significance of the title of the show as explained by Momin's grandfather. 'Alif'  is the first letter of the alphabet as well as the word 'Allah'. It's a metaphor for one's relationship with God or equivalently self-satisfaction or mental peace. If you're able to write it straight without any jaggedness, you've achieved that tranquil state of mind. If aren't able to, then it's time to introspect and see what's lacking in your life.  At least, that's what I made of the metaphor. It's of course, open to different interpretations. It's only when Momin dwells on these ideas that he finds inspiration for his project based on his own childhood, and as expected (and this is where I broke into a huge smile) christens it 'Alif'.

We also follow Momina's journey as she grows from a struggling actress to an international star in the span of a few years. However, as she achieves success, she loses much more in the process. Her very motivation for taking up acting jobs is to gather finances for her brother Jahangir's treatment. How are you supposed to cope when the sole reason you agreed to go through several trials and tribulations itself becomes obsolete?

For a few episodes, it becomes apparent that Momina feels nothing. She seems to have gone into a state of depression where she's detached from every materialistic reward coming her way. Although it seems like a rekindled romance and an imminent wedding is what pulls her out of this fragile state, it's actually quite the opposite. It is her love for her brother that ultimately makes her decide that she wants to continue on in her acting career as a tribute to him (since he was an aspiring actor, himself), at the cost of a convenient marriage with no mutual respect (again, something that had me hooting). And it's evident that she makes the right choice, for she wins an Oscar for her first film (Now, this is a fact that is quite hard to believe, because Oscars are rarely ever won so easily. Even if you're a completely deserving candidate, quite often the award is given to someone else due to campaigning strategies when it comes to the academy voters. This is what the Weinstein company did very well. There are a few videos on this that you can check out on Youtube).

There are also parallels between Momina and Husn-e-Jahan's journey (and eventual downfall-we're told that she ultimately died by suicide-which is kind of uncanny with respect to the present time, don't you think? First Sushant Singh Rajput, now Asif Basra, I'm scared the list will go on and on at this point...) which she connects to by having heard stories from her father (who was Husn-e-Jahan's trusted friend and make-up artist). However, there's one thing that's quite starkly different between the two characters. It's the choices that Momina makes. While Husn-e-Jahan leaves her career and dedicates her life to her husband and God (and also eventually, her child), Momina chooses to stay in showbiz, never losing her faith or compromising on her principles, indicating that such exceptions may also exist in this world of 'worldliness'. And these parallels eventually come full circle, when Momina is offered Husn-e-Jahan's part in Momin's dream project 'Alif'.

The sense of irony is also very strong throughout the show. Starting from Momin's name to finally creating circumstances such that Qalb-e-Momin, a once successful director has to now bow down to Momina's (someone who he'd rejected quite impertinently at an earlier audition when she was a nobody) demands to get her to be a part of his film. Also another point of irony, Abdul Ala who seems to be the purest of souls, actually turns out to have committed the biggest sin of them all by being opposed to Taha and Husn-e-Jahan's relationship, and filling his son's head with doubts about the same. There are many more such points, but I'll hold off on it, cause then this will turn into a spoiler-fest and I can probably do a whole article on it (Just like I could have for KYY when I had finished about two re-watches of it).

One more aspect of the show that really appealed to me was the whole 'meta-ness' of the events in it. I love 'cinema' and I also love cinema about 'cinema'. Starting from 'Om Shanti Om', Zoya Akhtar's 'Luck By Chance' or even Bernardo Bertolucci's 'The Dreamers' (This movie is actually really good guys! Do check it out and it also has one of my favourites, Louis Garrel. I love him so much), I admire all of them. So, when Momina places her ego aside and the pre-production work on 'Alif' finally kicks off, I was beyond excited to see the how scripting and shooting the film would lead Momin to ultimately discovering some truths about his own life he'd chosen to overlook. Sadly, they didn't focus too much on the film-making aspect, but I have a feeling that it's only me who would've wanted to watch all that jargon being discussed on screen. 

A brilliant highlight from this phase however, is when the crew gathers to converse with a song writer (played by Shuja Haider, the actual singer of Alif's title track) about composing the soundtrack of the film. And when they finally stumble upon the actual rhythm that you've known and listened to for more than twenty episodes, you do end up feeling elated despite knowing that coming up with such a good melody in a matter of minutes is quite incredulous. Honestly, the feeling I experienced was quite akin to when the members of Queen finally get the guitar riff in place for 'Another One Bites the Dust' in 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. And I'm completely in love with the OST as well as its lyrics! Here it is!

In such an emotionally heavy drama, it's difficult to inject humour but somehow, much to my satisfaction, the show isn't entirely devoid of it. It's just not very on-the-nose.  Whether it's Shelly claiming that she has a 'sufi soul' just to replace Momina in 'Alif' or Dawood's comment about things going awry exactly when he's thinking of tying the knot (LOL I can imagine all the people who've had COVID weddings making similar statements). One of the funniest running gags (if you can call it that), is Shakoor's (Momin's house help) tendency to inadvertently rat out Momin's shenanigans (booze, girlfriends...you know? The works) to Abdul Ala during his visits and then faux regret the action later. Shakoor always acting as a tattletale be like-

Another reason I ended up liking the show as much as I did was due to its multi-faceted nature. The show might be a spiritual romantic drama, but the way I see it, the show qualifies as a mystery as well. Episode upon episode, several layers of the past are peeled off one by one, and just when you think you have the whole story, the writer throws another curve ball at you that you didn't see coming. I honestly have to applaud Umera Ahmed's (of 'Zindagi Gulzar Hai fame) efforts here, for the events are fairly tortuous and there are literally no glaring loopholes in the highly complex story that she's crafted (first in her novel, of course and now in the show). Honestly, after seeing inexplicable twist upon twist (and loophole upon loophole) in 'Ishq Mein Marjawaan 2', this was a relief for me (Seriously man, I think they are introducing some doppelganger in that show, and I'm facepalming continuously since the latest episode. But more on this in my IMMJ2 rant I'm planning for later...).

Now, we get to my favourite part of the rant. The ships and performances! So, I'm going to tell it like it is. Despite my apprehensions, I ended up LOVING Hamza and Sajal as an on-screen pair! Their chemistry is palpable right in the first episode where they're at loggerheads with each other. Moreover, in spite of their characters never crossing paths again, save for the last few episodes, the progress in their dynamic seemed completely natural and convincing. When I realised that the two basically fell for each other in around one and a half episodes or so (say, around sixty minutes), and yet managed to sweep me up in their story, I was immediately even more appreciative of Umera Ahmed's talent for staging romance. Pakistani dramas are often very chaste in nature compared to our Saas-Bahu soaps, but in this drama specifically, the dialogues are so well written that the lack of physical intimacy between the leads is very well compensated. Momin is also so damn smooth while flirting! OMG. Hamza does it so effortlessly.

My favourite lines of the duo have got to be these-

Momin: Mohabbat pe yakeen rakhti hai aap?

Momina: Haan...

Momin: Main nahi...

Momina: Yakeen nahi ata ki aapne kabhi ki nahi hai.

Momin (with a bittersweet smile): Ki hai, isliye yakeen nahi hai.

*nut munching intensifies*   (Yep, in case you're wondering, I did manage to find my Mom's hidden stash of peanuts at two a.m in the night, this time. Yeah baby Polu, I love you. Cause LMFAO, none of my reviews nowadays are ever complete without a 'Main Hoon Na' reference).

Hamza's looks of mesmerised longing when he sets his eyes upon Momina while she's all dolled up in her costumes don't hurt either. Seriously though, even Momina can't keep a straight face when he throws her those piercing looks!

And what's interesting to notice is that it isn't entirely her beauty that enraptures him. It's the fact that she, in his eyes, is the spitting image of his mother (though Kubra and Sajal are really two different kinds of beautiful. Sajal is more of a girl-next-door kind. Kubra on the other hand looks nearly ethereal!).

Sajal's performance as Momina is quite effective and praiseworthy, but I also felt that Momina was quite similar to Zubia (Sajal's character in 'Yakeen Ka Safar') and followed the same beats. No doubt that Momina was a far stronger individual, but the emotions she goes through leave nothing novel for Sajal to pull off.

Hamza on the other hand is absolutely spectacular! Especially the scenes where he breaks down and expresses his vulnerabilities. It was so heartfelt that I truly thought that he'd drawn some amount of emotion from his own personal journey (It's quite a well known fact that Hamza was a self-proclaimed atheist earlier, but changed his views later on). I also love how he plays Momin in the two phases of story (one where Momin lacks faith, and one where he starts to believe). The 'changes' in Momin aren't really 'changes' but more of the person he truly is underneath all that pride, arrogance and resentment. Also, it's not as if Momin becomes unrealistically virtuous even after his faith returns. He still gets jealous and is too quick to judge people. He still retains his nervous habit of smoking cigarettes or playing with the lighter whenever he's stressed. It's these small nuances that make the viewers relate to his flawed personality even more.

Kubra and Ehsan do rather well themselves (especially Kubra), but I did feel that their story dragged in a few portions. I found myself far more invested in Momin and Momina's romance than theirs, which is quite surprising because I usually love watching marriages in free fall (My favourite film of this sort, has got to be 'Blue Valentine'). Yeah I'm kind of sadistic that way. So, sue me. But I couldn't quite get into theirs as effectively. The rest of the ensemble cast (especially Manzar Sehbai, playing Momin's grandfather) do a neat job of supporting the leads with the exception of a few actors who deliver slightly shrill performances as compared to the pitch of the show.

Last but not least, I must say, the production quality is quite top-notch and the series is possibly the most visually stunning Pakistani drama I've watched so far. The colour palette is so vibrant (especially in the portions shot on location, in Turkey, where the seventies/eighties storyline takes place) but it never hurts your eye (I watched one episode of Pavitra Bhagya and there was so much colour, my eyes started to throb. Yikes.). Also, the frames and shots are much wider than usual, which is quite atypical of Indian or Pakistani dramas. Quite frankly, I'd say that the show's pretty much been shot like a film.

So, at the end of the day, did I have a spiritual awakening or an existential crisis like Momin? The answer is no. No, I did not. But did the show succeed in making me look at everything from a different perspective that I probably wouldn't have earlier? Yes, absolutely, it did. It made me want to value my relationships more and pay lesser attention to materialistic possessions. Because everything that is materialistic, is ultimately ephemeral. It's the people who stay with you that are indispensable.

For many years now, 'Zindagi Gulzar Hai' has been happily holding the spot of the best contemporary Pakistani drama with hardly few contenders to challenge its title. But now, I'm happy to report that 'Alif' exceeds the former by quite a long mile and dethrones it quite easily. Far more qualified critics have reviewed the 'Alif' before me and dubbed it a 'masterpiece', so who am I to disagree?

Go watch it. Live it. Cry and laugh with the characters. And if possible come back here to answer the question I've posed in the title, once you're done with this roller coaster of a journey.

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Woah! I feel like that was a lot of gyaan! But the amount of gyaan I give, is directly proportional to how good the show is, so I'm sure you understand the reason for it!

Now for more fun stuff! 

As usual, I'm posting my favourite edit of Momin and Momina here! But mind you, this one has a solid spoiler! So, don't watch it if you're planning to watch the show. 

It's interesting that the same Rumi quote that's been used in this scene is part of 'Rockstar' as well that recently completed nine years of release! 

Oops, I'm going into analysis mode again...

Here's my favourite spoiler-free edit-

Also, how uncanny is it that I should find an edit on Yeh pyaar nahi toh kya hai's title track picturised on Momin and Momina  after having requested you guys to listen to it in my last rant?! Honestly this song suits them better than the original leads of the Sony TV show!

Anyway, I've overdone it with the edits! 

Bye for now! See you in another rant!

*****