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Divorce: a fate worse than death

By  Aamna Haider Isani
16 June, 2016

As a husband Mikail (played quite effectively by Gohar Rasheed) is the perfect louse. He doesn’t have a job, unless you consider his gambling ways a profession.

The message that Mann Mayal sends out is regressive and extremely regrettable.

As a husband Mikail (played quite effectively by Gohar Rasheed) is the perfect louse. He doesn’t have a job, unless you consider his gambling ways a profession. He wants to gamble his father’s wealth away and has no qualms in turning his parental home into a casino. Talk about ambition. As a son, Mikail is proverbially Satan’s spawn. He is rude and obnoxious to his parents during their life and he literally drives them to their death, having absolutely no regret or remorse. As a father he finds it hard to remember his kids’ names, as difficult as that may be to believe. And as a husband – the final nail in the coffin – he is abhorrent.

From day one Mikail has shown zero interest in Mannu, driving that fact home every single day. He is offensive and abusive and disrespectful to her and her family. He sells her jewellery to buy back the car he lost in a game. He locks her up when she is nine months pregnant and he fears she is going to disclose his secrets to his mother. Not only does he give her no money but he takes every single penny out of her purse before kicking her out. Oh, and he kicks her and his two kids out of the house, knowing they have no money. He truly is vile.

But the message Mann Mayal, and especially our heroine is sending out to women all across Pakistan is this: it’s more honourable to be married to such a man than to be divorced. And that’s harder to digest than Mikail’s behavior.

Dramas like Mann Mayal, with their star casts and massive following, are supposed to be trendsetters and influencers and it is scary to even begin thinking of the damage this kind of message can have on viewers. Mannu (overplayed by Maya Ali) takes her hysteria to another level when Mikail announces he’ll divorce her. She howls, wails, rolls on the floor, pulls her hair, drags herself outside his bedroom door and has a complete (and inexplicable) meltdown; had there been even an iota of love, respect, liking, or shred of a relationship between Mikail and Mannu we would have understood. But under the circumstances, not.

Mannu’s reaction is demeaning and offensive to divorced women (a right that, by the way, our religion allows) and her mother’s comment – ‘beti ka baap hona kisi maslay sey kam nahin hai’ - is insulting to all women, irrespective of their marital status. At a time when Pakistan is rising to deal with women’s rights and efforts are being made to condemn honour killings, female infanticide and other crimes against women, this drama comes along with a message that there is no curse worse than divorce. It is extremely regrettable.