There has long been a debate amongst writers and academics regarding plot – are all stories derived from the same six (or seven, if you prefer Christopher Booker’s analysis) plots that have captivated human imagination since time immemorial? Has the human condition evolved to include more plots? While a near consensus inclines towards limited plots with a focus on style, Pakistani television seems to have taken the concept to a different level altogether.

If you turn on any entertainment channel in Pakistan, you’ll likely find one of the following: a woman sobbing; a woman looking morose; a woman being wed; a woman not being wed etc – basically, lots of women in various stages of distress. And if the woman isn’t looking in distress, it’s because she’s the one causing it. Our television programming can be characterised as revolving around marriages (or lack thereof), family affairs and select societal concerns. It really doesn’t make for riveting content.

Our television history is illustrious when it comes to producing raw, genuine stories that move the soul or provide humorous relief from the heavy burden of existence. But by and large, the quality of our content has taken a nosedive and our storytellers find it easier to remain stuck in the rut.

Given the confusion and corruption that plagues our country it is perhaps only fair that our television reflects the same cognitive dissonance that we experience in our lives. It’s a problem compounded by educational and economic divides, language and money.

Nadeem Baig, director de jour, of Jawani Phir Nahi Aani 2 and Mere Paas Tum Ho fame, is one of the few in the industry to have worked on both TV and the silver screen. In his opinion, the ratings game has ruined storytelling for the entertainment industry. “I would definitely blame the TRPs. Ever since we started following India and its meter method it’s all been about attracting eyeballs. The landscape has changed. And since Indian TV had the saas-bahu dynamic that people responded to, we began to emulate it.”

“Our directive has been to focus on adult women (25 years and above) and their concerns – of weddings and other domestic concerns. The diversity of content will come now that things are moving to a digital sphere, and people who didn’t have a platform now have a chance,” he says.

While there may be room to debate what pressing concerns for women are, there is general agreement that the digital space will allow for a greater proliferation of alternative narratives and voices. Some of the digital platforms have even given voice to the entirely unrepresented youth.

Though directors and actors are to be held accountable for the scripts they throw their weight behind, there is something to be said for TV channel executives who seek stories that will result in high TRPs. If that comes at the cost of good storytelling, then so be it.

“There are several issues that have contributed to the demise of TV drama,” says Sania Saeed, a veteran actor. “Back in its heyday, television drama was being developed by the likes of Kamal Ahmed Rizvi, Haseena Moin, Ashfaq Ahmed – progressive and educated minds of the time. You can disagree with their ideology but their content still stands. We used to adapt novels and world literature like Wuthering Heights, The Portrait of a Lady etc. for television. The stories being told had a novelty to them.”

“We had writers like Shoaib Hashmi and Anwar Maqsood penning comedy. The sensibilities were different, the education level and mindset of the audience were different. Television was also licensed. This led to accountability for the content being produced,” she recalls. “Then private production opened up and we were thrown off-kilter. We weren’t ready for the influx of so many channels, and we didn’t have the talent or an ecosystem to support and sustain the productions.”

It isn’t a class or background issue either. The success of Mere Paas Tum Ho’s finale is a testament to that. “Who do you think went to the cinema for the finale screening? It definitely wasn’t your lower class or even your middle middle-class. It was those who could afford going to the cinema. It’s what we’ve brought our audiences down to. Your audience is only as smart as you assume them to be and we’ve set the bar very low. What you give them is your responsibility as a medium and the medium has intellectually deteriorated,” she explains.

Saeed also points out that the talent being championed these days looks similar and caters to ‘brand agenda’. “They’re tall, fair, pretty young girls with flowing locks. They play characters between 16 and 25 years of age. And all of this has to do with product placements and commercial alignments,” she says. “The medium has passed on to people who only treat it like business. It’s a convoluted mess,” she laughs wryly.

Television and films are extraordinary mediums that have the potential to bring about amazing change if in the right hands. In the wrong hands, they reduce stories and audiences to two-dimensional entities with no depth or soul.

The timing is propitious for Pakistan to reclaim its hijacked narratives. There is no dearth of talent or diversity in the country. As audiences, curators and critics, it is up to us to demand better standards from our storytellers. The onus of elevating those standards is on them.

The writer is a journalist and an aspiring author