Sometimes when I am alone, I start pretending I’m hosting a TV show. Never a reality TV show but pretty much every other kind. For instance, if I am taking a walk in a park, I begin talking to myself as if a camera crew were following me as I guide them (and the viewers) on a tour of the flora, fauna and wildlife of Lawrence Gardens. When cooking by myself, I’ll begin talking aloud about what I am making and which ingredients I like to use. Even when I am just sitting at a desk, I alternate between the voice of a newscaster talking-head and game-show contestant.
These are not minor whimsical trips in my head. I speak my dialogue out loud and with confidence, which is only weird when someone walks in on me talking about the debt crises facing an empty wall. I believe most of us have done this at some point in our days as part of out “alone behavior”, other specimens of which include walking around in underwear, eating out of a can, and singing gospel songs at full volume.
I am not sure these skills translate into a real-life job. I tend to freeze up slightly in front of a recording camera, suddenly conscious of lighting angles and double chins, but maybe that is something I can overcome. Because while watching TV shows here, I have been simply appalled at how many of them I would never be on (in my imagination or otherwise). Ramzan doesn’t bring out the best in our television channels. There are five channels where women in full burqas are sitting in front of Macbook Pro’s and talking about morality or religious history. Sometimes I stare at them for hours, mesmerized because I can’t figure out whether the show is cheating and showing a still shot with a voice-over or actually recording a slit of eyes looking straight ahead from underneath a very still cloak.
No, you don't give air-time to a "debate" about domestic violence because even deigning to have the debate means it is worthy of consideration
The cooking channels are worse. The studio lighting makes everything look gelatinous, shiny and indigestible, and the hosts keep taking inane calls from viewers while cutting onions. (“Asalamalaikum, app theek hain?” followed by “Salam, jee haan. Aap theek hain?” returned by a “Thank you, jee haan. Aur app, aap theek hain?” Shut up! We get it. Everybody is fine. Talk about the food.)
But the absolute worst are the chat shows. I came across one hosted by that actor who was in Waar (I forget his name, but his eyebrows look like they want to divorce his face; you know the one) devoting an entire hour of the show to the recent Islamic Council’s edict that domestic violence is totally fine according to the deity. To be fair, I don’t think the actor was supporting the edict, but he did keep mentioning that it’s a topic worthy of debate and I find that deeply offensive. It’s like saying slavery or racial segregation may be wrong but “let’s talk it out!” No, you don’t talk out domestic violence. You don’t give it air-time because even deigning to have the debate means it is worthy of consideration. It cannot be. Beating up women is not worthy of discussion. Indeed, the edict itself is the most flagrantly sexist, craven, flamboyantly stupid thing the religious-minded council has ever delivered. Even the Saudi council had a more lenient take, which is when you know you have done some serious wrong. Whoever came up with it should be beaten according to the edict’s own principles and locked up in a burqa for 22 hours a day just to feel the weight of their proclamations.
The Council of Islamic Ideology's edict permitting 'light' violence against women has been widely condemned - Image Credits - Myra Javed Khan
By now of course you also know of a raging cleric and member of a “religious” party who tried to physically attack a brave woman journalist because she dared to disagree with him. Can you believe that? A sitting senator attempting to beat a woman on a TV show!
There has to be a point where we realize that these edicts come out precisely because they are not offensive to some segments of our society, and it reveals the most hateful parts of us. The parts that we don’t talk about (except some of us on TV). This past weekend, a (probably closeted) Afghan-American gunman walked into nightclub in Orlando and massacred 50 people in cold blood. He now holds the dubious distinction of committing the worst terrorist attack on American soil since 9/11, forcing Muslims everywhere onto the defensive. The only difference between this and other attacks is that there are no hashtag solidarity claims in Pakistan, few “We stand with you, Orlando” memes on our Facebooks, virtually no cutesie graphics or interlocking hands. The reason is that more than enough people don’t think it’s the most awful thing in the world to kill gay people. Most of this country believes the same. Much like beating women should be allowed. Or children. Or burning Christians. Or Ahmedis. Or Shias.
Since the attack, I have heard more people than I thought possible claiming that “It’s a good thing” before laughing at some bigoted joke. I’ve heard this from people across the social classes and varying levels of “liberal” mindsets. That’s BS. It’s murder. My only hope is that if you believe the same, you are not caught in a circumstance where a man with a gun is picking you off like a rat in a cage because he doesn’t like what you represent.
