Refusing to be reduced or read easily, Saba Qamar turns contradiction into power—and ambiguity into her sharpest weapon.

In an industry conditioned to reward binaries—good or bad, virtuous or villainous—Saba Qamar has built an empire in the in-between.

 Often likened to Hollywood icon Meryl Streep for her transformative acting range, Saba is less a performer and more a presence—an actress who dissolves into contradiction, embraces fracture, and chooses women who are difficult, disruptive, and defiantly real. “Grey characters are more real… more human,” Saba says. “Perfection is boring… flaws are interesting.”
In that ethos lies her quiet rebellion—not just against the industry, but against the very idea of being easily understood.

Her journey into acting—particularly from a conservative Syed family—was not rebellion, but alignment. “Choosing acting wasn’t simple. There was hesitation… resistance… even within myself. But there was a quiet, persistent pull I couldn’t ignore,” Saba stresses. “Acting wasn’t about glamour—it felt like a way of expressing what I couldn’t say out loud.”
At some point, waiting for approval became more dangerous than uncertainty.
“If I kept waiting for everything to feel safe, I might never step into what I truly felt aligned with. So, I chose the leap. It wasn’t rebellion—it was conviction.”
Saba also resists the mythology of reinvention. “I think the woman I am today was always there… in an unformed way, “Saba asserts. “Life didn’t create her—it revealed her. The losses, the uncertainty—they strip away what isn’t real.” Her strength was not constructed—it was uncovered. “I didn’t become someone new. I understood who I already was—and learned how to stand in that fully,” Saba emphasizes.

Saba’s early breakthrough came through the satirical comedy Hum Sab Umeed Se Hain, where her mimicry and timing revealed a sharp comic instinct—one often overshadowed by the gravity of her later work. But it was her transition into layered drama—Maat, Digest Writer, Sangat, Baaghi and Cheekh—that redefined the female protagonist on Pakistani television, particularly on Hum TV. “If the role doesn’t scare me, I don’t want to do it, Saba proclaims forthrightly.
About Baaghi, inspired by the life of slain internet phenomenon Qandeel Baloch, Saba says; “I didn’t want to copy her… I wanted to understand her. There was so much pain behind that confidence.” About Cheekh Saba opines; “Women are always told to stay quiet. I wanted to show what happens when she doesn’t. Silence is the biggest crime.”

If earlier roles challenged society, Case No. 9 demanded something more dangerous—total emotional immersion. “Emotional scenes take a real toll… on the mind and the body, Saba reveals. “I’ve learned to take care of myself and breathe through it.” The role however did not end when the cameras stopped. “These characters don’t just disappear. When you go through something intense, you don’t erase it—you grow from it. The emotions stay.” Her portrayal of a woman navigating trauma within a hostile system became less performance, more indictment.

Her biggest project, Hum TV’s Muamma, which ran through early 2026 and concluded in April, marked a striking turn into psychological territory. As Jahan Ara—a layered, obsessive, and deeply complex woman—Saba delivered one of her most intense performances in recent years. The drama drew strong audience engagement for its slow-burn exploration of trauma, manipulation and power within confined domestic spaces. Saba embodied a psychologically complex woman whose quiet volatility is driven by moral ambiguity and psychological unease, her intention not to seek redemption but to expose the unsettling truth that the darkest impulses are often deeply human—and dangerously self-justified. “There’s no bigger devil than humans. Fear is not outside… it’s within us.” Saba said about the hugely successful serial. In Muamma, empathy fractured. The audience was implicated. And Saba operated at her most restrained—and most unsettling. Industry chatter already places this role among her most compelling post-Baaghi and Cheekh performances.

Saba says her engagement with a character begins in silence. “I try to sense the soul of the character… what is she hiding… what wounds is she carrying.” She says she doesn’t construct performances—she allows them to surface.
“I don’t rush it. Slowly, she reveals herself.”
On set, ego dissolves into discipline. “I’m here to serve the story, not my ego. I’ll give a hundred takes if needed.” And ultimately Saba values honesty over flattery; “You can feel the difference between truth and formality.”

Saba’s transition to cinema—particularly Hindi Medium opposite Irrfan Khan—brought international acclaim. “Working with Irrfan was like going to an acting school… he was so real, you forgot the camera was there,” Saba enthuses. She chose the project for substance—not scale. And it showed.

Saba’s off-screen life carries the same refusal to romanticise pain. Speaking candidly about an eight-year toxic relationship; “We are taught not to leave the first man… but that one sentence ruined eight years of my life,” Saba says ruefully. “He lied to me… humiliated me… it destroyed my mental peace,” she adds.
Her clarity now is unwavering; “I don’t want to be stuck in an abusive relationship… I want compatibility. Love should be unconditional—but not at the cost of your peace,” she insists.

Saba’s voice extends beyond performance into critique. “People often joke about mental stress… but experiencing it first-hand is eye-opening”, she muses. “We’re also still stuck in labels… I believe in gender equality.” She further challenges the culture of scrutiny; “Why do we discuss someone’s appearance… and then target their personality.”  Saba’s advocacy on mental health—particularly during World Mental Health Month—remains grounded and urgent; “Mental health is just as important as physical health… talking about it is a sign of strength.”

As a National Ambassador for UNICEF, Saba has extended her influence into child rights and girls’ empowerment—particularly against child marriage in Pakistan.
“Why should any child be forced into a future they did not choose?” she challenges. Her work bridges visibility and responsibility—amplifying voices often unheard. In an industry where silence is often survival, Saba has chosen confrontation. Following defamatory claims by a journalist, she pursued legal action with clarity;
“No one has the right to make false accusations just for attention.” Her stance reinforced dignity in an environment that often weaponised speculation, especially against women.

Despite immense popularity, Saba Qamar remains curiously distant from the machinery of celebrity. “I want to live life, not just spend it,” she opines.
No relentless visibility. No overexposure. Even controversies—from the Badshahi Mosque photoshoot to public scrutiny of her personal life—have not diluted her authority. If anything, they reinforce it.
She controls the narrative—by choosing what not to reveal.

Beginning 2026 with the huge success of Muamma , looking ahead, Saba returns to a more relationship-driven narrative with Hurmat, an upcoming Hum TV drama co-starring Ahmed Ali Akbar, written by Kashif Anwar. Expected later in 2026, early indications suggest a grounded, emotionally resonant story—offering a deliberate contrast to Muamma’s psychological intensity. Beyond that, Saba has hinted at yet another undisclosed project on a different channel—signalling a multi-network presence and continued dominance across screens. Meanwhile, the Urduflix web series Mandi in which Saba plays Uzma Rana, a powerful, ambitious politician alongside Mikaal Zulfiqar, Ainy Jaffri, and Shayan Khan, remains in development, with details still under wraps. Taken together, her trajectory reflects a deliberate evolution: from social realism (Case No. 9) to psychological depth (Muamma), and now toward a balance of mainstream storytelling and experimental range.The industry consensus is clear—2026 is not a pause, but an expansion. Saba Qamar isn’t slowing down—she is widening her canvas.

There are rare moments in an actor’s career when multiple narratives run in parallel—when every screen carries their presence. Saba Qamar is living that moment.
But unlike the frenzy that consumed earlier superstars, Saba remains grounded, precise, and indifferent to noise. She shows up. She does the work. And she leaves.
“I don’t act… I feel.,” she clarifies.
From a grief-marked childhood in Hyderabad to international recognition, Saba Qamar is not merely a star—she is a shift. From glamour to gravity. From archetype to ambiguity. From performance to presence.
She gives you everything on screen.
And just enough of herself to keep you wondering…

The post Saba Qamar — The Art of Being Unclassifiable appeared first on Glam Magazine.

In a candid conversation with Rahat Zahid, we explored the heart of a home that has been lovingly shaped over many years. Every room carries a memory, every corner holds a story, and every decision reflects the couple’s journey of building a space that feels truly and deeply theirs. From thoughtful renovations to cherished furniture pieces collected over time, this interview offers an intimate glimpse into a home created with love, intuition, and a deep appreciation for natural beauty.

What are the most precious memories that you hold closest to your heart?

As the saying goes, every child is precious, and for me, every corner of this home feels the same. We’ve built this house with so much love that no particular space feels more important than another. Our main family room upstairs is where we spend most of our time, so it naturally feels comforting, but truly, I can’t single out a favourite spot. Every part of this home carries a sense of peace and familiarity because we’ve worked so hard to create it.

If you ever had the opportunity to move to a different or better home, would you take it? Or is this space irreplaceable to you?

It is absolutely irreplaceable. Even compared to our home in America, this is the one I call home. We’ve watched it evolve over the years, just as our children have grown within its walls. They were married here; we’ve celebrated countless milestones. When we first bought it, we couldn’t afford much because the house was enormous. We renovated slowly, sometimes painfully slowly, bit by bit. I still remember living without a dining table for six months because the chairs we loved were out of budget. We waited nearly a year to buy them, without ever compromising on what we truly liked. Those small struggles, the decisions we made with patience and intention, and the way we hosted guests despite not having much—every memory is woven into this house. That’s why it can’t be replaced.

When you bought this house, did you have a fixed idea of what you wanted to do, or did you follow your intuition as you went along?

We did have a few priorities, mainly the kitchen, flooring, and bathrooms. We decided to set those first. After moving in, everything else happened gradually. Sometimes, while living in a space, you suddenly realise what needs to be changed or improved. So, we would tweak things over time—a door here, a wall there—always based on what we could afford. It was a very slow, very organic process, and I think that’s what made it meaningful.

Maintaining such a large and beautifully kept home is no small task. How do you manage it so effortlessly?

It’s definitely not effortless, far from it. I’ve created a system where I focus on one area at a time. For example, when the children visit, we’ll concentrate on one room a day: first the upstairs living room, then another room, then the downstairs, then the outdoor spaces. But like every household, things break, people hide the evidence, and I only discover it when I’m setting things later! I always tell everyone: just be honest, don’t hide it, because it’s easier to fix something immediately.

People often say you’re blessed with a green thumb. Would you say you’re one of those who have a green thumb?

Not at all, I wouldn’t claim that! My husband is the one with the real gardening instinct. I simply guide him on the overall look. We’ve always preferred natural beauty rather than overly shaped plants. A tree should look like a tree, with its natural form and growth. We love greenery more than anything overly decorative. Seasonal flowers are lovely, but we value permanent plants and natural growth. My husband is into perfumery, so he loves fragrant plants like raat ki rani and motiya, you can smell them as soon as you enter. We sit in the garden depending on the weather. On pleasant days, especially weekends, we spend a lot of time outdoors, watching the children play or simply enjoying the fresh air.

Is there any area that you feel is your biggest comfort zone or sanctuary?

My sanctuary is the back patio. It’s peaceful, quiet, and feels wonderfully removed from the noise of the house. The upstairs living area is another comforting space, our true family hub. When my daughters visit, they refuse to come downstairs; we eat, sit, relax, and practically live upstairs for days. It feels like our true family sanctuary.

Homes often carry stories. Is there a piece of furniture, artwork, or décor element in your house with a memory or mystery you cherish?

So many pieces carry stories. Most of our furniture wasn’t bought from high-end places; we collected it gradually, often discovering pieces unexpectedly and then refurbishing them. Each item reminds us of where we found it, what moment in life we were in, and what vision we had for it. I also love printing and framing photographs rather than keeping them hidden in a phone. When you walk around the house, you’ll see memories everywhere, our lives literally on the walls.

With your demanding roles as a designer and educator, does your home ever become your creative lab, somewhere ideas spark unexpectedly?

Absolutely. Creativity comes to me very instinctively. Whether I’m designing clothes or rearranging furniture, ideas often evolve while I’m working, rather than beforehand. Many times, a room ends up looking entirely different from what I originally imagined. Since I’m not formally trained in interiors, we’ve made our fair share of mistakes, but the process has always been experimental and enjoyable. My husband visualises things instantly, while I need to see them physically—so we balance each other out.

What advice would you give someone who wants to create a home that feels both beautiful and deeply personal?

Take your time. Don’t rush to fill your home all at once. Build it slowly and thoughtfully, even if you can’t afford professional help. A home should reflect you, not an interior designer. Collect pieces gradually, place them carefully, and live with them before adding more. Everything in your home should evoke a memory or feeling. Money can buy objects, but not the emotion attached to them. Ultimately, a home becomes beautiful through the love, patience, and personal meaning you weave into it—one piece, one memory at a time.

The post Ingrained With the Creativity of The Owners appeared first on Glam Magazine.

Empower Sports Academy hosted a high-impact press conference at recently, formally unveiling its mega project and strategic partnerships aimed at transforming the future of female sports and education in Pakistan. The event was attended by leading media houses, corporate partners, sports professionals, educators, and stakeholders from across the country.

At the conference, Malika Junaid announced a landmark partnership between the Prime Minister’s Youth Programme (PMYP) and Empower Sports Academy to launch a nationwide initiative that will identify, train, and empower 10,000 young female athletes every year across Pakistan, expanding further in the years to come.

Representing the Chairman Prime Minister’s Youth Programme, Sindh, Coordinator Fahad Shafique expressed his delight at the progress made so far by Empower Sports Academy, and played a video message from the Minister and Chairman PMYP, Rana Mashhood Ahmad Khan. In the message Rana Mashood said, “This initiative reflects our government’s unwavering commitment to uplifting young women through sport. By reaching out to 10,000 girls this year and expanding even further in the years to come, we are broadening access to training, mentorship, and competitive opportunities.”

Malika further added, “Empower Sports Academy has already begun working with girls from all over Pakistan including girls in cities and underserved communities in remote villages of Balochistan, northern areas of Pakistan, Punjab, and Sindh.

The post Empower Sports Academy Unveils Landmark CSR appeared first on Glam Magazine.

In our society, a divorced woman is often treated as an outcast. The prevailing belief is that the fault in a failed marriage lies mostly with the woman, and this perception subjects her to relentless societal scrutiny. Her personal life, prospects of remarriage, and even her daily routines are scrutinized under a harsh public gaze.

It is against this backdrop of societal pressure, personal loss, and heartbreak that drama “Muamma” begins its gripping narrative. Spanning 30 episodes, this series is directed by Saqlain Khan, written by Imran Nazir, and produced by Momina Duraid. The drama features a stellar cast, including Saba Qamar, Usman Mukhtar, Nimra Shahid, Syed Jibran and Maria Wasti, Muamma airs on HUM TV every Wednesday and Thursday at 8 PM, offering viewers a rich blend of suspense, emotional depth, and social commentary.

The story revolves around the enigmatic character of Jahan Ara. Surrounded by rumours and whispered speculations. The narrative is a kaleidoscope of human emotions, betrayal, survival, and redemption, providing viewers with an intense and immersive experience.

Jahan Ara is portrayed as an intelligent, shrewd, and cunning woman. Outwardly, she may appear innocent and empathetic, but beneath the surface lies a mind that strategizes with precision.

However, Jahan Ara’s life is far from easy. She navigates a world dominated by patriarchal norms and male authority, encountering challenges at every turn. Her father’s bias, her brother’s cruelty, and the betrayal of men around her have been recurring themes in her life. Her first marriage ends abruptly, with powerful feudal lord Sarmad orchestrating events to force her into a toxic union with him. This marriage becomes a nightmare filled with abuse, humiliation, and relentless cruelty. Yet, in these dark moments, Jahan Ara’s courage, patience, and intelligence begin to shine.

Through a twist of fate, Jahan Ara eventually exacts justice on Sarmad for his misdeeds. Seven years later, she returns as a strong, influential, and fearless woman, determined to confront life on her own terms. Her mission becomes exposing the betrayals and deceit of men and overcoming any obstacles that come her way. She is now the proud owner of a beautiful house, which she rents exclusively to newlywed couples. But beneath the surface, she quietly observes their relationships, looking for cracks and tensions a subtle yet powerful metaphor for her quest for justice and understanding human frailties.

Life, however, presents yet another challenge in the form of Shah Jahan, one of her tenants. The dynamics between Jahan Ara and Shah Jahan form a pivotal part of the drama. Their relationship, evolving amid tension, attraction, and mutual discovery, has the potential to transform Jahan Ara’s life in ways even she cannot predict. Each episode reveals new layers of intrigue, suspense, and emotional intensity, keeping viewers on the edge of their seats.

Muamma is not just a story of entertainment; it is a social commentary that fearlessly portrays the realities of a divorced woman in a conservative society.

Saba Qamar delivers a powerhouse performance as Jahan Ara. Her portrayal captures a spectrum of emotions from vulnerability and grief to courage and determination. Her ability to convey the subtleties of pain, intelligence, and moral strength has won the hearts of audiences within the first few episodes. Usman Mukhtar, Nimra Shahid, and the supporting cast contribute significantly to the drama, ensuring that every character is vividly realized and essential to the storyline.

Saba Qamar’s return to HUM TV after a long hiatus has been highly anticipated. She has previously delivered exceptional performances in acclaimed dramas such as Bunty I Love You, Maat, Dastaan, and Besharam, leaving an indelible mark on every role. In Muamma, she brings maturity, depth, and nuance, making Jahan Ara a character that viewers both admire and empathize with. Her presence ensures that the drama is not merely watched but experienced.

Beyond entertainment, Muamma carries a profound social message. It teaches that a woman who stands firm for her rights and confronts societal pressures can emerge victorious despite adversity.

Muamma is poised to become a classic, remembered not just for its gripping storyline but also for its social relevance and strong performances. It stands as a testament to HUM TV’s commitment to selecting compelling themes, producing high-quality content, and contributing to societal awareness. The drama is a vivid portrayal of courage, resilience, and justice, and it resonates across generations.

By presenting a woman’s struggle with honesty, sensitivity, and drama, HUM TV has set a benchmark for quality storytelling. Muamma is a triumph of narrative, performance, and social commentary a drama that will not only entertain but also educate, inspire, and provoke thought.

The post An Epic Tale of a Woman’s Struggle, Revenge, and Enduring Hope – Muamma appeared first on Glam Magazine.

By Anusha Zahid

Alisha Junaid is the founder of Empower Sports Academy, which held the first women’s volleyball tournament in Pakistan last year. GLAM interviewed Alisha two years ago at the launch of Empower Sports Academy, and this is a follow-up interview now that their second national volleyball tournament has successfully concluded.

Originally from the United States, Alisha is a TEDx speaker, a recipient of the USAID Youth Leadership Award, and a student at Babson College. She has organized national volleyball tournaments throughout Pakistan and coordinated international tours, all while advancing her personal athletic and academic pursuits.

Congratulations on successfully concluding the second year of Pakistan Volleyball Championship. Do you think this year’s tournament was better compared to last year’s in terms of participation and overall excitement?

Yes definitely. This year, we expanded the preliminary round to eight different cities, a significant increase from last year’s three. We had teams from Abbottabad, Sadiqabad, Islamabad, Karachi, and Quetta, among others. This year, we also made a conscious effort to concentrate on the younger age groups, which was a deliberate decision to prioritise the development of our next generation.

To achieve this, we leveraged social media to promote the event, engaged with our networks to spread the word and encouraging teams to participate and then share their experience with their own networks. This grassroots approach led to a significant increase in participation. But what was truly heartening was seeing girls from various cities come together to a single location and participate in the tournament. The event saw a high level of engagement and exceptional sportsmanship, with teams from the same city coming together to support each other, especially at the final stages of the competition.

Were there any standout performances or emerging talents from this year’s championship?

It’s challenging to recall a specific standout athletic performance, but what really caught my attention this year was the exceptional sportsmanship and honesty displayed by the girls. In Pakistan, this can sometimes be lacking, but in this tournament, I saw a different dynamic at play. The girls were able to connect with each other, even with teams they were competing against; suggesting that collaboration and mutual respect are values that are being instilled in our young athletes, and that’s a promising sign for the future. Also, we were fortunate to have experienced coaches on board, including the national team coach and Eric Ballelos, who had travelled from the US to assist with the event. Their expertise was invaluable, and it was also a great opportunity for the girls to learn from them.

As for emerging talent, we selected a promising volleyball player from the national team last year named Khizra, who was sent to the US to play at a Division 3 college. Not only did she excel in volleyball, but she also successfully completed her undergraduate degree and is now a working psychologist. Our goal is to replicate this experience with more girls.

Who were the sponsors this year? Do you think they played a role in the success of this year’s tournament?

This time, we were fortunate to have some prominent names supporting us, which helped elevate Empower to the next level. Jazz came on board and signed a three-year contract, Interwood, which has been with us for the past two years, renewed their support with a three-year contract. We also secured a three-year partnership with Naya Nazimabad. Two electric motorcycle companies, Hyder and Crown also contributed by sponsoring the Player of the Match awards (one for volleyball and one for badminton) in the form of electric motorcycles to motivate the players. I am incredibly grateful to all our sponsors because running these tournaments is expensive. We cover the expenses for transporting all the players to Karachi, including bus tickets and their accommodation, because we want them to focus entirely on their game without worrying about logistics. Our sponsors and the prize money they provide are essential in making this possible. Last year, we heard a heartwarming story about a girl whose father started a business using one of these motorcycles, which significantly helped their family. That’s exactly the kind of impact we want to see, contributing not just to the girls’ athletic growth but also enabling them to support their families.

What were some of the challenges that you faced during this year’s tournament, and were they similar to or different from those you encountered in previous years?

From the girls’ side, I believe there were fewer challenges this time. We were able to clearly communicate the rules and ensure everyone understood how the tournament was being organised. However, challenges exist, mainly because we imposed certain restrictions on participation. For example, we have age limits, and we do not accept girls over the age of 19 or national team players. With the addition of our coach Eric this year, and discussions with our board, our focus remains on developing young players. We faced some challenges with over-age participants, though fewer than last year when we had an open age category. While we have thought about creating a category for players aged 19 and above, we’ve noticed that training and influencing older players is much more difficult because they tend to be more set in their ways, making it quite challenging to manage.

Have you chosen any young girls to take on coaching roles for the upcoming tournament?

We have selected a few young women to serve as coaches and are currently in discussions with some of them. These women have played on the national team and possess valuable experience and insights into the game and the competitive environment. However, to be eligible, they need to be over 25 years old. Our aim is to help them develop a coaching career and livelihood, while also ensuring that the timing aligns with their career stages – some are still active on the national team and wish to complete that chapter first.

In addition, we have identified several coaches from Pakistan, including both men and women, whom we are training during the summer. We are handling their visa arrangements, and hopefully by July, we expect to have our first group of around four coaches. These individuals will have the chance to learn from Stanford’s world-class coaching staff in the US.

With the increased visibility and support, what are your hopes for the future of women’s volleyball in Pakistan after this year’s tournament? 

Our hope for next year is to bring more athletes into the fold and expand what we’re doing with Empower. This year, we started incorporating sports like badminton alongside volleyball, and we saw a fantastic response. We plan to add more sports and gradually expand into various Olympic disciplines, but since taking on new sports is a logistical challenge, we’ll proceed step by step. Perhaps next year we will bring in squash and table tennis as well. Our objective is to show the girls that their involvement in sports can open doors for their future – their energy on the court, playing and having fun – especially this year after the prize ceremony when they all danced to classic desi songs and having an impromptu dance party – it was incredible to see them let loose and celebrate. We want to create more memories for them.

The post The Journey Continues appeared first on Glam Magazine.

“Art will always find a way to break through and create something new”

Ozlem Ozhabes – theatre director, performer, and lecturer on theatre’s power to challenge society and inspire change.

1. How did your visit to Pakistan come about? Also give us some insight into your play.

I live in Abu Dhabi, and recently, one of the World Culture Festival organizers and the technical team members named Azaib invited artists to participate. He personally approached Bill Bragin, the curator and director of the NYU Abu Dhabi Art Centre, who then recommended my play. Azaib contacted me and extended an invitation to participate.

The play is called Subj:medeA and it tells the story of a goddess who is betrayed by her husband. In her act of revenge, she kills all her children. As a mother myself, I am deeply interested in how society places immense expectations on women—how they are supposed to be and behave, and how they often become trapped in their homes without much support. Having become a mother myself, I’ve experienced these pressures first-hand. This inspired me to create a show about a mother who takes the most extreme, tragic action – she commits the worst possible act. I wrote the play myself, with some assistance.

• How did your journey into theatre and acting begin?

My story isn’t a typical one. I’ve always been shy and introverted. As a child, I didn’t like much attention. In high school, I was planning to study political science, and also became part of a youth group. We spent a lot of time in rehearsals, and I think what drew me into theatre was the collective aspect; the idea of creating something together, working on a piece not just for ourselves but for the sake of art. The trust and transparency required to connect with twenty people at once felt like magic to me. That collaborative nature is what kept me in love with theatre.

I then studied dramaturgy and became part of a theatre company, assisting with directing, working with lights, cleaning stages – you name it. The collective spirit of theatre is what continues to inspire me.

• Why in particular did you study feminist dramaturgy?

I didn’t feel the need to call myself a feminist until I became a mother even though I consistently defended women’s rights. So, the question for me was: what’s wrong with calling myself a feminist? If you look at theatre history, it’s full of male names—male characters, male perspectives, male-dominated viewpoints and behaviours. Unless you explicitly call it feminist, you’re not making a statement. Would I simply call it feminist? No. What I hope for is a world without discrimination, where everyone is free, and where everyone including professors, understand their boundaries. On the stage, we often need to raise consciousness. I wish feminism was irrelevant, and my play didn’t exist but, in my performance, here, I had audiences from Algeria, Pakistan, Mozambique, Turkey, Azerbaijan, Ukraine and other countries, and I realised how much these themes resonated across different cultures. It’s so relevant that I feel I have to explicitly call myself a feminist.

• You have been involved in diverse projects across different countries including Florence, London and Turkey, and now in Abu Dhabi. How have these experiences shaped your storytelling methods?

In Florence, I mainly taught, and I found that Italian actors are very happy and expressive. In Turkey and the broader Middle East, restrictions on what stories can be told and what can be openly discussed influence the form of storytelling. Stories and subtleties often become less important, and bigger concepts take precedence. In London, the environment is driven by capitalism, technology, and a fast-paced culture and you have to learn the rules quickly, know your place, and understand which plays or roles are accessible.

Though my heart still beats in Turkey, I find places like Abu Dhabi or Pakistan, where I’ve only been for a short time, share a similar curiosity. I see in the students’ eyes the same questions I had at their age.

• You’ve directed a wide range of plays, from classics like Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Night’s Dream to contemporary works. How did that come about?

These aspects are a key part of my teaching practice because theatre of Turkey has historically been heavily reliant on translated texts and classics. Therefore, students need to engage deeply with these texts and learn how to position themselves within them. Moreover, these texts are considered “classics” for a reason—they resonate universally. They offer students an opportunity to view them as exemplary works from the West, and within them, students recognise elements of their own histories, families, and peers. Once students begin to see their own histories reflected in these texts, the works start to truly resonate on a deeper level, transforming them from distant classics into meaningful reflections of their own lives.

• Photo Credit: Anna Jopp
• You started Datça Theatre Summer Camp and have been the director of ACT, a project focused on artistic freedom. What inspired you to start them?

I am someone deeply obsessed with systems, yet I also believe that systems are inherently destined to fail. Despite their inevitable shortcomings, systems can produce something meaningful and inspiring over time. Hence Datça, a two-to-three-week camp, was my attempt to bring together various acting techniques into a cohesive approach. Later, I linked this to a core principle: it’s all about the artist – finding vulnerability, embracing fragility and discovering freedom. We engaged in intensive training, working with nature, classical texts, and monologues through clown work and Linklater method. It was about discovering creativity through extremities and pushing boundaries. ACT, a youth theatre, is particularly significant because it touches on the culture of theatre in the country. Instead of simply teaching young people what to do, we empowered them to create—giving them agency. The initiative aims to train youth as future change-makers and trainers, bringing together participants from three cities: Diyarbakır, İzmir, and Istanbul. Politically, it was especially meaningful to gather young people from different regions and backgrounds to hear their childhood stories and building connections.  

• According to what you’ve observed so far, what are some of the strengths and weaknesses of theatre in Pakistan?

I haven’t seen a lot of Pakistani work, but what I have seen is very powerful. It reminds me of my students in Turkey. However, I’ve noticed that most of the directors’ names are male. As a feminist, I believe that to truly strengthen any artistic field, it’s essential to hear women’s voices and perspectives.

• What are some of the skills that you consider are essential for an actor?

Reading texts, understanding what you read, and delivering it effectively from your positionality – these are essentials. Take Hamlet for example, he is a 17-year-old boy struggling to make sense of the world, and then he loses his father. The image of that father, and the uncertainty surrounding it, deeply influences him. To portray Hamlet convincingly, you need to grasp his dilemma and interpret his lines with empathy. Delivering the text isn’t just technical; it’s about knowing where your centre is.

• Considering how rapidly technology is transforming entertainment and communication, how do you envision the future of theatre and performing arts? Do you think theatre risks becoming obsolete – especially among younger generations?

I am quite skeptical about technology, yet I try to remain hopeful. The most progressive shows I’ve seen in recent years come from very young artists in Belgium, Amsterdam, Tunisia, and Iran—where they have created immersive experiences that are quite wild. For instance, audiences might be blindfolded and have to touch objects or engage in sensual experiences, lying down while performers approach them and communicate. You see, as human beings, the more we distance ourselves from direct contact, the more our need for connection persists.

Yes, just like the industrial revolution, this technological revolution is also frightening as this is leading to a dangerous disconnect. Today, we see children suffering and dying, yet we seem indifferent, only witnessing it through screens. If humanity isn’t strong enough to unite around these issues, then theatre becomes just a trivial addition.

But I recently saw a show in Avignon by a Portuguese director: a father and daughter, presented in a very theatrical way in its classical sense. The daughter moves to Mars without telling her father, and they exchange voice messages. It is theatre in its simplest form – two people communicating through voicemails. But it had a huge impact on everyone in the audience. That kind of work gives me hope that even if it’s not theatre, it will be something else because every era creates its own art form. Art will always find a way to break through and create something new.

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Growing up during a politically turbulent time had a profound influence on Farrukh Shahab. His family’s migration and resettlement exposed him early on to instability and change. He first lived in Rawalpindi and later moved to Karachi, during the late 1970s — a period marked by political unrest, student movements and social upheaval. Witnessing protests, the banning of student unions, and the tension that gripped the streets gave him a firsthand understanding of how politics shapes everyday life. Those experiences made him street-smart and observant, nurturing in a curiosity about the world and the human condition. In 1984, Shahab apprenticed under Iqbal Mehdi, a respected artist who was also surrounded by writers, poets, and political. Their discussions on art, literature, and ideology opened his mind to the power of creative expression as a form of reflection and resistance and helped him realize that art was not just about technique or aesthetics. His early works carried traces of that realism and social consciousness. The struggles, conversations, and observations from that era have continued to shape his worldview and remain deeply embedded in his artistic language today.

Your artistic journey began with portraiture, earning you awards as early as the 1990s. How do you view that early phase of your career in relation to your current work?

My early years were deeply rooted in portraiture, which became the foundation of my artistic journey. During university, a turning point came when my work was featured in the Sindh Art Exhibition in 1986, noticed by art critic Amjad Ali, who mentioned me in a leading newspaper, Dawn. That early recognition gave me the confidence to take art seriously and pursue it as a profession. Working as an apprentice to Iqbal Mehdi was a major influence. His studio was a training ground. We worked on commissioned portraits and large murals, sometimes twenty feet wide, for prominent figures and institutions. That experience taught me not only technique and discipline but also respect for craftsmanship and realism. I became very familiar with the medium; colour, form, texture and understood how to translate life onto canvas. Over time, however, I felt the need to move beyond replication. While realism gave me a strong foundation, I wanted to explore my own voice and direction. Breaking away from that comfort zone was essential to evolving as an artist. The early phase gave me precision and structure, but my current work draws more from emotion, memory, and experimentation – a dialogue between what I learned then and what I continue to discover now.

You’ve explored diverse styles — from figurative portraiture to abstraction, mixed media, and photography. How do you decide when to shift or experiment with a new style?

My shift toward experimentation began during my first trip abroad in 1992, when I accompanied Iqbal Mehdi for his exhibition at the Pakistan Mission to the United Nations in New York. That experience opened a new world for me. We also visited galleries across SoHo and other parts of the city, where I encountered a wide range of contemporary and abstract art. Coming from a background of strict realism, it was eye-opening to see how freely artists expressed ideas without the constraints of form or likeness. I even began taking small commissions there — portraits, mostly — but observing that diversity of styles planted a seed of curiosity. Gradually, I started exploring symbolic and nonrealistic forms in my own work. It wasn’t a sudden shift, but a natural evolution. Exposure to international art spaces — first in New York and later in Paris — expanded my perspective and made me realize that experimentation is essential for growth. It’s about responding to what I’m feeling at a certain point in time — sometimes it’s realism, sometimes abstraction, or even photography.

In Valley of the Quest, you integrate lapis dust, teakwood, and layered materials. What inspires your experimentation with unconventional mediums?

The idea of experimenting with unconventional materials began around the year 2000, shortly after I got married. My wife worked with an airline, and during our travels and stays abroad — particularly in London — I often found myself surrounded by everyday objects rather than traditional art supplies. I started using what was available: letters, cardboard, bits of paint, even discarded materials. That period became a quiet laboratory for exploration, though at the time I didn’t take it very seriously. Years later, while preparing for Valley of the Quest, my curator, Mohammad Ishaq, encouraged me to revisit that experimental approach. Once I began, it came naturally — the process flowed, and the material itself started to guide the form. I used lapis dust, teakwood, and layered surfaces to create depth and symbolism, drawing inspiration from The Conference of the Birds by Farid Uddin Attar. The text’s metaphors about the soul’s journey resonated deeply with me and became the conceptual backbone of the series. Each piece in Valley of the Quest reflects that spiritual search — birds as metaphors for human emotions, flight as transcendence, and materials as memory. The use of natural, tactile mediums connects the work to both earth and spirit.

How do you balance your personal need for artistic evolution with the art market’s expectation of a “signature style”?

I’ve never allowed the art market to dictate the direction of my work. When an artist starts creating with the market in mind, they risk becoming confined — producing what is expected rather than what is felt. That mindset slowly erodes individuality, originality and the natural evolution of creativity. What many forget is that the very work that first drew the market’s attention was born from pure, personal expression — not commercial calculation. Yet once an artist begins to sell, external influences can creep in. Galleries may suggest changes — colour adjustments, recurring themes, or familiar compositions — and before long, the artist is boxed into a “signature style” that serves the market more than their own vision. I’ve consciously resisted that. Growth, for me, lies in experimentation and change. Each phase of my work reflects a new internal journey, not a repetition of what has already been accepted.

You’ve spoken about the canvas as a space where art “takes on a life of its own.” Could you elaborate on what that loss of control means for you as an artist?

For me, painting is never a premeditated act. I don’t approach the canvas with a fixed plan or a detailed vision. The moment you try to control every aspect of a painting, it resists — it begins to transform into something else entirely. My process is intuitive: I start with a loose idea, then build, erase, add, and alter as the work unfolds. The composition, the colour palette, even the emotion evolve naturally as I paint. There are moments when the hand seems to move on its own, guided by something beyond conscious thought. That’s the point where the canvas takes on a life of its own. Sometimes the result isn’t what I imagined; sometimes it surpasses my expectations entirely. But that unpredictability is the essence of creation.

Many of your works embody both personal emotion and collective human experience. Do you consciously navigate between them?

I believe if you try to create art consciously with the intent of balancing the personal and the universal, it becomes more of an illustration than an expression. For me, the process is organic. Whatever you experience — whether from life, relationships, or even from what you see in galleries and around you — quietly settles in your subconscious. Those impressions stay there, sometimes for years, until they resurface in unexpected ways.

When I paint, it’s rarely a direct translation of an experience or emotion. The connection is deeper and often difficult to trace. It’s as if the body’s own chemistry and the mind’s stored memories come together on the canvas. Art, to me, is a mirror of the subconscious — it reflects fragments of who we are, often without our realizing it. Whether one is a painter, writer, or poet, the act of creation always carries something instinctive and internal, shaped by everything we’ve lived and everything we’ve forgotten.

You’ve played an active role as Chairman of the Fine Arts Committee at the Arts Council of Pakistan. How do you view the responsibility of artists in shaping the country’s contemporary art scene?

It’s been about six years since I joined the Arts Council of Pakistan as a governing member, and the experience has been both unexpected and deeply rewarding. Initially, I never saw myself as a teacher or administrator — I’m a reserved person by nature — but over time, I discovered that guiding young artists can be just as fulfilling as creating art itself. My approach has never been to impose ideas or styles on students. Instead, I encourage them to find their own voice — to develop a personal language of expression. Reviewing their theses, discussing concepts, and watching them evolve into confident artists has been one of the most gratifying parts of this journey. Many of our alumni have gone on to build successful careers, which affirms the importance of giving emerging artists the space to explore and grow. Serving as Chairman of the Fine Arts Committee has also pushed me out of my comfort zone. Organizing exhibitions, workshops, and programs has shown me how collective effort shapes the art community.

What gaps do you think still exist in Pakistan’s art education and curatorial practices, and how are you contributing to bridging them?
Unfortunately, we’re witnessing a gradual decline in both the conventional gallery culture and the strength of art institutions in Pakistan. This has created a visible gap — not just in opportunities for young artists to exhibit their work, but also in the quality of curatorial engagement and mentorship available to them. Our focus has been to bridge that gap by creating more accessible platforms for emerging talent. We want young artists to feel encouraged rather than disheartened by the lack of formal infrastructure. Whether it’s through exhibitions, workshops, or performance-based art programmes, we’re trying to provide them with the space, visibility, and confidence to grow. People are often hesitant to embrace new ideas or formats, but this effort of involving students and fostering inclusivity is slowly gaining momentum. I see it as an ongoing mission: to keep the art ecosystem in Pakistan alive, evolving and open to the next generation of voices.

Winning the Nigaah Art Award for Abstract Art in 2024 affirmed your experimental work. How do such recognitions influence your artistic confidence or direction?

Recognition has always carried great value for me. I still remember the feeling of seeing my first painting printed in Dawn in 1986 — at that time, it felt monumental. Moments like those remind you that what you’re creating is being seen and appreciated, and that validation can be incredibly motivating. Winning the Nigaah Art Award for Abstract Art in 2024 was a similar moment of affirmation. It reinforced my belief in continuing to experiment and evolve. For any artist whether emerging or established, appreciation, acknowledgment, and even the simplest forms of recognition matter deeply. They renew your confidence, keep the creative spirit alive, and encourage you to push your boundaries further.

When future generations look back at your career, what do you hope they recognize as your defining contribution to Pakistani art?

People often say that an artist’s career is unpredictable, that it’s difficult to sustain oneself through art alone — but I’ve spent my entire life doing just that. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been deeply fulfilling. Once your work is out in the world, you have to be ready to face all kinds of responses — appreciation, criticism, or even indifference. That openness is part of being an artist. If future generations look back at my career, I hope they recognize it as one defined by persistence and courage — the courage to evolve, to take risks, and to experiment without fear of rejection.

You’ve seen the Pakistani art scene transform over three decades. What excites you most about the new generation of artists?
What excites me most is their openness — their willingness to experiment, to question, and to redefine what art can be. Over the years, I’ve witnessed remarkable growth in opportunities for young artists, compared to the past, from the rise of new galleries to the digital platforms that allow them to share their work instantly with the world. This generation is far more exposed and connected than we were. Their inspirations come from everywhere — from local traditions to global movements — and that diversity shows in their work. They are bold, unafraid to take risks, and eager to explore concepts that challenge conventions. It’s heartening to see Pakistani artists making their mark internationally, representing our culture and creativity with such confidence. Today, art and artists are no longer confined to one space or mindset.

If you could describe your art in three words — the words you’d want on a gallery wall decades from now — what would they be?

They would be dedication, evolution, and daring. Dedication — because art has been a lifelong commitment for me; Evolution — because I’ve never wanted to remain stagnant; every canvas is a step forward. And Daring — because experimentation and risk have always been at the heart of my creative process.

The post Exploring the Art of Experimentation – Farrukh Shahab appeared first on Glam Magazine.

The Pakistani drama industry has always been a place where magic happens when the right blend of artists, stories, and vision come together. Every once in a while, audiences can sense that something extraordinary is about to arrive, and HUM TV’s upcoming project “Jin Ki Shaadi, Un Ki Shaadi” is one of those rare productions. Starring the internationally acclaimed Wahaj Ali and the immensely talented Sehar Khan in their first-ever on-screen pairing, and helmed by the masterful direction of Saif e Hasan, the drama promises to captivate viewers with its unique story, compelling characters, and grandeur.

Wahaj Ali, who began his acting journey in 2015 with Ishq Ibadat, has risen to become one of the most admired actors in the country. His remarkable ability to bring depth, truth, and emotional intensity to his roles has earned him fans not just in Pakistan but across the globe. With memorable performances in dramas such as Dil Na Umeed Toh Nahi, Bikhre Moti, Fitoor, Mujhe Pyaar Hua Tha and Jurm, along with his portrayal of Imam Rumi in Jo Bichar Gaye, he has established himself as an actor of great versatility. Blockbuster serials like Ehd-e-Wafa and Tere Bin further elevated his stardom, making him one of the most sought-after names in television today. His contribution to cinema with Superstar added another dimension to his career, proving that his artistry transcends mediums.

Opposite him stands Sehar Khan, a name that has charmed audiences with her innocence, vibrance, and natural screen presence. Starting her career in 2018 with Sanwari, Sehar quickly earned recognition for her engaging performances and versatile roles. Born in Islamabad, she has worked in popular dramas such as Rang Mahal, Zakhm, Mushk, Fairy Tale and Tan Man Neel o Neel, each showcasing a different shade of her acting talent. The phenomenal success of Fairy Tale brought her into the limelight like never before, with her chemistry in the drama becoming a talking point everywhere. The appreciation translated into a well-deserved HUM Award in 2024 for Best On-Screen Couple, further solidifying her place as one of the brightest young stars of the industry.

The drama comes to life under the direction of Saif e Hasan, whose name is associated with some of the finest productions in Pakistani television. Starting with Dil Ki Madham Boliyan, he has given the industry masterpieces such as Sang-e-Mar Mar, Sammi, Ehd-e-Wafa, Parizaad and Tan Man Neel o Neel. Known for his ability to weave stories that are emotionally charged and visually striking, Saif e Hasan has won numerous accolades, including Lux Style Awards, for his outstanding contribution to the craft. His vision promises to make Jin Ki Shaadi, Un Ki Shaadi not just another drama, but a memorable experience for viewers.

What makes this drama stand out is its unusual yet refreshing storyline. It is not just a tale of love, but a satire laced with humor, fantasy, and raw emotions. The title itself hints at its clever theme, portraying how society often obsesses over others’ marriages while overlooking their own realities. The narrative follows two brothers, Asad and Ali, who, in accordance with their late parents’ will, are compelled to live in their ancestral mansion. Once there, they encounter a family of jinns, which sets the stage for a rollercoaster of events. The twist arises when the unmarried brother, played by Wahaj Ali, is bound by a condition: he must marry within six months or lose his inheritance. What unfolds is a fascinating blend of comedy, suspense, and emotion, with a parallel love story between a jinn and a human adding further depth and intrigue. It is a story of love, loyalty, and the clash between human and supernatural worlds, crafted in a way that will keep audiences hooked.

Alongside Wahaj Ali and Sehar Khan, the drama boasts a stellar supporting cast including Arslan Naseer, Romaisa Khan, Sidra Niazi, Syed Jibran, and Nadia Afghan. With a strong lineup of performers, every character in the drama promises to leave an impression. The story has been conceived by Shamoon Abbasi and written by Syed Nabeel, whose script blends wit, emotions, and drama with seamless finesse. The production is in the hands of MD Productions, a banner that has consistently delivered quality dramas that resonate with audiences at home and abroad.

The on-screen pairing of Wahaj Ali and Sehar Khan has been a long-standing wish of fans, who have often expressed their desire to see the two together. With this project, that wish finally becomes a reality. Their combined star power, undeniable charisma, and acting prowess are expected to bring electrifying chemistry to the screen, making Jin Ki Shaadi, Un Ki Shaadi one of HUM TV’s landmark productions.

The drama premiered on 8th September and airs Monday and Tuesday at 8:00 PM on HUM TV. With its refreshing concept, powerful performances, and captivating direction, Jin Ki Shaadi, Un Ki Shaadi is entertaining audiences and leaving a lasting impression in the world of Pakistani drama.

The post Jinn Ki Shaadi Unki Shaadi – Where Jinns Meet Humans appeared first on Glam Magazine.

The farshi shalwar is creating waves with it’s strong comeback, becoming a favourite amongst women and men across Pakistan.

This traditional garment has a rich history that dates back to the 17th century in Uttar Pradesh. It was originally a symbol of Mughal royalty worn by women who were known for their unmatched sense of style. The shalwar’s floor length design is meant to cascade gracefully down to the floor. It can be decorated with embroidery, mirrors and beads.

Creating a place in the world of traditional and ethnic wear. Social media and celebrities have played a vital role in reviving this trend and bringing it back into the spotlight. Celebrities such as Urwa Hocane, Ushna Shah and Sarah Khan were spotted donning the shalwar in their own ways.

Farshi shalwars aren’t just restricted to women! Pakistani men have embraced this trend in their own way. Fahad Mustafa, for example, was seen sporting a farshi shalwar on a show. Singer Falak Shabbir also looked effortlessly sophisticated in the outfit.

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