Hundan: Touching the Core of Humanity

In the bleak, haunting silence of Gilgit-Baltistan’s snow-capped mountains, a story of nature, love, loss and its consequences took place centuries ago. Told in hushed tones by flickering firesides by the elders, it was immortalized in the film Hundan. Written, directed and produced by Karamat Ali, who belongs to the area, the filmmaker has a deep-rooted passion for folklore and cultural preservation.

A mass communication graduate, Karamat Ali brings to the screen a story bound in legacy. Hundan is a docu-drama that protects forgotten voices, confronts environmental exploitation and resurrects the dying Burushaski language.

 “My grandmother used to cry while telling me this story.”Karamat said,when asked what inspired him to make Hundan. “This story was part of my childhood. My grandmother would narrate it with such emotion that it stayed with me. There was no television, no other distractions in those days. The story is about coexistence, and how doing wrong never goes unpunished.” That seed of storytelling was planted in 2007. After an initial attempt as a documentary and a reenactment performance that won hearts at a cultural event, he decided to take the bold step into narrative cinema. Eighteen years later, Hundan was born.

“Trophy hunting is not sport, it’s a crime against innocence.”At its heart, Hundan is a powerful protest against trophy hunting, a practice that has devastated local wildlife, particularly the endangered species like the ibex.“Who has given us the right to kill an innocent being just for entertainment?” Karamat questions with intensity. “We portrayed both sides — the greedy, and those trying to stop the greed. But my intention was clear: to show the heartbreak, the loss. There’s a scene where a mother ibex is killed in front of her young. That pain is real. And unforgivable.” The symbolism goes deeper. “Hun means wood, and dan means stone. Together, ‘Hundan’ is a metaphor — when you go against the path of righteousness, nature will respond. It becomes your teacher.”

Hundan also protects Burushaski, a dying language native to the region. “When someone is about to die, people go to see them with all their emotions. That’s what I’ve done with Burushaski — I’ve shown its joy, sorrow, anger, peace and mourning,” says Karamat with feelings. Though the film is being dubbed in Urdu for a wider audience, its original language remains its soul.

Filming Hundan was anything but smooth. The movie was supposed to be shot during the snow season, but due to climate change, the team found themselves waiting weeks for snowfall that never came. “I had to manually fill snow in some patches to make the scenes consistent,” he explained. Budget was another battle. “Most of the money went into fuel — we needed heaters, electric mattresses and generators to survive the mountain cold.”

But passion found a way. The cast, though not professional actors, were chosen with precision. Shahino was played by Alhan ul Qudrat, a seismologist, while Mayon was brought to life by Zahid Azeem, a school principal, both belonging to the area. Their physical endurance made it possible to shoot in the toughest terrains. “I didn’t stick to a fixed script,” Karamat says. “I’d explain the previous and upcoming scenes and asked the actors to speak in their own way. Munira Shah, who played Nisa, didn’t speak Burushaski — she had to learn her dialogues and understand it from scratch.” The grandmother’s character was portrayed by a real elderly woman, encouraged to act as naturally as she would. An old man who was also a professional storyteller delivered the final tale in the film.

Hundan is dedicated to Ghulam Ali Hunzai, a beloved teacher and poet who translated the Quran into Burushaski and wrote educational books despite having only learned through the Qaida. “He was selfless. He taught generations — and now, they are all successful in their fields.”

When asked what advice he has for aspiring filmmakers, Karamat doesn’t hold back, “You need to be madly in love with your story. Don’t make films just to get views – make them to change lives. If your story doesn’t have a purpose, don’t tell it. And don’t do it if you don’t have the resources — unless you’re truly passionate. You need to be mad about your work.”

Karamat isn’t done telling stories. His next project, “A Missing Piece — Peace,” is a short film series focusing on the alarming youth suicide rate in Gilgit-Baltistan. “In one year, 56 suicides were reported aged 14 to 35. That’s heartbreaking. The lack of opportunity, peer pressure etc, it’s real, and it’s killing our youth.” He’s also preparing for a cross-border film on Pakistan-China friendship, partially shot in China. “It’s a story of a child’s struggle, a message of unity.”

 “If Hundan could stop just one person — many just come for the fun — from trophy hunting,” Karamat says, “we’ve succeeded. Why not turn it into a sight-seeing opportunity instead? The animal doesn’t know it’s part of the game — it’s not a sport, it’s murder. Shoot it with a dart and make it unconscious, don’t kill it for the sport of it.”

Hundan: An Echo of a Dirge is more than a film. It’s a resurrection of language, a cry against cruelty, and a tribute to the power of folklore. Through the eyes of a grandmother, the blood of the mountains, and the beating heart of a culture on the edge, Karamat Ali has told a story that refuses to be forgotten. And as long as the stones whisper and the wood remembers, Hundan will echo its message.

Cast & Crew Share the Soul Behind Hundan

Alhan Ul Qudrat (Shahino)

“I never imagined I’d step into acting — it just wasn’t part of the plan. But growing up in the mountains, we’ve witnessed these stories all our lives. They’re part of who we are. The message of Hundan — that we must preserve wildlife and avoid harming nature — really resonated with me. Because what we destroy in nature eventually finds a way back into our own lives. It was also a proud moment to be part of the first film ever made in the Burushaski language. I gave it my all.”

Zahid Azeem (Mayon)

“Like Alhan, this was my first time in front of the camera — and honestly, I never thought I’d be able to do it. But with Karamat’s mentorship and the support on set, everything felt possible. Burushaski is my own language, and I feel lucky that I could express this story in words that come from my roots. It made the experience even more personal.”

Munira Shah (Nisa wife of Shahino)

“I don’t speak Burushaski, and I was really nervous about my accent. I told Karamat I wasn’t sure I could do it — but he simply said, ‘I’ll support you,’ and that meant everything. I had always dreamed of visiting Hunza, but I wanted to go with purpose. The love and support I received were overwhelming. We weren’t just a crew — we were a family. Every moment was joyful, filled with warmth and laughter.”

Shagufta Rasool (Asst. Director)

“Karamat is an incredible director — truly committed and calm even during duress. Yes, there were challenges during the shoot, but every problem was taken care of. The support from our team, especially our First AD Amjad — who’s also Karamat’s brother — made it all smooth. We pulled through as a strong, united crew.”

Extract: Filming Hundan was anything but smooth. The movie was supposed to be shot during the snow season, but due to climate change, the team found themselves waiting weeks for snowfall that never came.