“Sometimes, all it takes is a slight movement of the eyeball, a subtle lift of the eyebrow and you become a character,” says actor Naumaan Ijaz. He exemplifies this, with a gentle shift in posture, a tilt of his smile, and becomes ‘Shameem’ or Shammo.

‘Shammo’ twirls, a red dupatta over his head. ‘Mundeya dupatta chadh mera’ blares out from the speakers and Saba Qamar as Umaina or Umi plays the hero, grabbing on to a corner of the dupatta. The wedding guests giggle and clap, and fairylights twinkle around them while one particular brother-in-law gets riled, finding it all too scandalous.

It’s a classic desi shaadi scenario.

There’s a lot more that’s utterly indigenous and so relatable in the web-series Mrs and Mr Shameem, and I say this having seen the first two episodes of the series which were made available to me. This is singular privilege, since the series has been released on the OTT platform Zee5 — and is, therefore, inaccessible to Pakistani audiences because of an ongoing ban on the streaming platform owing to its Indian roots.

The Zee5 series Mrs & Mr Shameem is a unique story and, steered by a very fine team, it becomes an exceptional one

Mrs and Mr Shameem is directed by Kashif Nisar and stars Naumaan Ijaz and Saba Qamar. The script has been written by Saji Gul. Those credentials alone are calculated to draw in TV and film buffs, making them yearn to see the series, and explore possible piracy options when straightforward streaming is not available.

And then, there’s the trailer, replete with the colours and the dialect of androon (inner city) Lahore, offering glimpses into the unconventional romance between Shameem and Umi. He is the sole brother of four sisters, and so effeminate that he is often ridiculed and teased of being a transgender. She is a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve and ends up getting impregnated by her boyfriend, who proceeds to dump her. Shammo — her best friend — decides to step up and marry her, giving her child his name.

The first two episodes are powerful, nuanced, choc-a-bloc with emotion and exceptional dialogues. They set the tone for Shameem and Umi’s subsequent love story over the years, traversing the narrow alleys of Lahore and the scenic landscape of Khanpur: her initial disregard for him, his persistent loyalty, how Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS) eventually casts an ominous shadow over their lives, and how they persevere.

It’s a unique story. Steered by a very fine team, it becomes an exceptional one. Writer Saji Gul observes, “It took me nearly a year-and-a-half to write this script. It’s very difficult to write a story in which every scene matters, every dialogue has to hit the heart. The series may not get televised on local channels, but it’s distinctly Pakistani. It celebrates our music, our culture and also pinpoints the prejudices that remain alive among us.”

“There are so many men who may have grown up in a house full of females and are feminine in the way that they talk or move,” says director Kashif Nisar. “Like Shameem, they may not be transgender. There are many drama stories where such characters are part of the ensemble but the plot never revolves around them. They are either there to offer comic relief or as objects of ridicule. The story is never entirely about them.

“This story, though, is about Shameem. Naumaan came up with the idea about 12-13 years ago. Uss waqt se yeh halki aanch pay pak rahi hai [the story has been simmering on low heat ever since],” says the director.

The concept of Shameem struck Naumaan Ijaz when he and Kashif Nisar visited Washington DC for an event. Both Naumaan and Kashif form one of Pakistani TV’s most powerful teams — they have produced countless projects together, and their most memorable works to date have been team efforts, with one acting and the other directing. Following that long-ago event in the US, the two roamed a mall, walking arm-in-arm.

Naumaan recalls, “Our host for the event teased us that we were walking the way a certain kind of people did in the US. We started joking about it and I began acting out the character of a feminine man for them. Slowly, this story began to take shape. We researched on how long an AIDS patient could survive with the right medication and care, and it became part of Shameem’s journey.

“An AIDS patient can survive for two decades or more. There are so many taboos that society attaches to a certain kind of man, a certain disease, a certain way of life. This series challenges all that,” says Naumaan.

The story was passed around to local TV channels and was rejected unanimously. “When Zee5 reached out to us for a story, I suggested to Kashif that we should air out this one, set aside in a drawer for years,” says Naumaan. “He told me that it would get rejected again but I asked him to give it a try.”

Zee5 loved the idea. Casting decisions had to be made — and who could have performed the characters better than the exceptional Naumaan Ijaz and the versatile Saba Qamar?

Kashif Nisar says: “Naumaan has immense range as an actor, and it often gets underplayed. Only he could play a role like this one, add human shades to it and make it relatable. And then, whenever I thought about Umaina, Saba Qamar would come to my mind. Who else could bring such a complicated, intense character to life?

“Saba would come to my home with a boxful of food and we would develop Umi’s character while having dinner together. When Saba is on your set, her phone doesn’t ring and she doesn’t even coordinate timings for other projects. She’ll come early in the morning and stay till 2 in the night, if it’s required of her. She’s very passionate and extremely hard-working.”

Saba, when she heard the script, wondered how Naumaan Ijaz would play Shameem. “I wondered keh yeh kaisay karein gey [how will he play the role]? Naumaan Ijaz has always been associated with such masculine characters. But then, he came on set and the way he moved, walked and smiled completely transformed him.

“This story is so true to reality,” continues Saba. “There are so many men like Shameem who get judged simply because they don’t appear to be masculine enough. But he loves Umi throughout, accepts her child, stands by her. True love is unconditional like that.”

A particularly harrowing scene in the second episode shows Umi desperately sad. Her chest heaves and her body shakes but she is so distraught that she can’t sob until, finally, she does, the pent up sadness emerging in a shattering shriek. “When I saw that scene, I got goose bumps,” recalls Saba. “I’m very critical of my own work, but that particular scene just shook me up.”

The first two episodes are replete with many such profoundly emotional moments — the way Shameem observes Umi from the corner of his eye even when he’s celebrating with his family; the way he gives her space, only to loom upon her protectively a few moments later; the way he consoles his mother, played by the brillaint Gul-i-Rana, when she gets agitated about her sons-in-law. One can only guess at the twists to follow later.

“If I don’t cry myself while writing a scene, how will I make the audience cry?” says Saji Gul.

Why is the series titled Mrs and Mr Shameem and not the other way round? “It’s because whatever he does, it’s for her,” says Saji.

Perhaps if Shameem had been played by another character, he wouldn’t have been as relatable. Saji agrees. “The actor has to believe in the character that he’s playing. There is another character later in the story and a senior actor had been selected to play it. I heard the actor disparaging this character to someone and Kashif Nisar and I realised that someone who doesn’t like the character couldn’t possibly do justice to it. The actor got replaced. Nomi Bhai was perfect for Shameem.”

“There is a very fine line that differentiates one character from the other,” says Naumaan Ijaz. “Originally, Shameem was going to be the youngest in his family but, when we decided that I would play him, we reconceived him as the eldest. Woh aisa mard hai jo unn mardon se lakh darjay behtar hai jo sirf jismani taur par mard dikhtay hain [he is a man who is a million times better than men who only appear to be masculine].

“It’s our misfortune that we are unwilling to tell such stories on our local channels — but I’m happy that people will see it on Zee5.”

Saji Gul dissects the benefits of writing for an OTT platform. “You can be more expressive, without worrying about censors. There are no illogical restrictions and no TV producer cajoling me into elongating a scene or adding characters. Azaadi se likha, jumlay idhar udhar nahin thonsnay parray [I wrote with freedom and didn’t have to add unnecessary dialogues].”

The sentences speak volumes. Each scene is laced with heavy emotions. There is certainly nothing unnecessary about Mrs and Mr Shameem. And the story it tells — based on my initial insights into the series — is so very necessary.

Published in Dawn, ICON, March 13th, 2022