On March 20, approximately two weeks before Ramazan, Federal Minister of Religious Affairs Noor-ul-Haq Qadri wrote a letter to Prime Minister Imran Khan with a list of suggestions on what should not be aired on television during the holy month.

The minister’s letter begins with the foundational argument that, since regular anchors and presenters do not have proper Islamic education, they hardly qualify to host Ramazan programmes. As a result of the hosts’ non-religious education, the letter points out, people flock to social media to troll the content, and complain to the ministry or other authorities.

There is a simple solution to this mess, the letter infers: enforce a sweeping wish list of stipulations that tosses out celebrity hosts; forces dress codes (I haven’t seen anyone dress uncouthly during the month, by the way); dissuades discussion on issues that may bring up controversial aspects of sectarianism and religion; prohibit game shows and “recreational stuff” (the letter doesn’t say what ‘recreational stuff’ refers to), especially if they appear before or after Sehri and Iftar times; nor have games and “such stuff” (again, what does the minister mean by ‘such stuff’?) be part of religious programming. Last but definitely not the least, the letter advocates stopping the telecast of “unethical/immoral stuff, activity and advertisements.”

According to the list, the only sanctioned activity during telecasts would be the promotion of religious and sectarian harmony, and propagation of Islamic teachings.

Ramazan programming is big business in Pakistan — no other country markets the holy month on television like we do. While some shows have undoubtedly gone overboard in the past, does the state really need to enforce what should be allowed on our screens?

One wonders whether the ministry in question actually watches Ramazan transmissions.

To be fair though, Ramazan transmissions have been prone to excessive pizzazz since they came in vogue in the past decade. In the last few years though, partly due to Covid-19, some of that rogue energy has been contained, and newfangled avenues to keep the broadcast young and culturally relevant have been adopted by channels.

Almost flushed out of the system are the loud, reward-flinging game shows. Very few of these actually survive today on major networks.

During Ramazan, ARY’s Jeeto Pakistan changes its outlook to Jeeto Pakistan League, I’m told by Muhammad Jerjees Seja, CEO of ARY Network. The League is a death match-style spin-off of the show that pits celebrities against athletes; the practice continues from last year, Jerjees clarifies.

Jeeto Pakistan, he also makes clear, is not a Ramazan show, nor is it a part of Ramazan transmission for that matter.

“Jeeto Pakistan airs after the Ramazan transmission ends,” he says during an enlightening, detailed discussion on the topic. The show airs thrice a week throughout the year, he says, so it’s a year-long affair that only amplifies the frequency of its shows during the holy month.

ARY, Jerjees affirms, has a very stringent policy on its Ramazan transmission which, by and large, still reigns as the most popular broadcast of the season.

The transmission almost checks off every box in the Religious Affairs Minister’s list; the only thing it doesn’t tick off is the host Waseem Badami, a political show anchor who, even according to executives from rival networks, transitioned into a competent anchor of religious broadcasts.

You have to understand that the Ramazan transmission has evolved,” Jerjees further explains. According to him, not everyone is able to pull off such transmissions. The networks that failed to do so took Ramazan as a month-long money-making spree, he points out. “Everyone jumped on the bandwagon,” he says, “but the sincerity, dedication and, most importantly, the consistency just wasn’t there.”

ARY, Jerjees explains, is the sole network that works throughout the year on their Ramazan transmission. The thematic and presentational elements present during other holy nights and events during the Islamic year reflect the tone of ARY’s Ramazan transmission, I understand during our long-talk.

“You have to understand that the Ramazan transmission has evolved,” Jerjees further explains. According to him, not everyone is able to pull off such transmissions. The networks that failed to do so took Ramazan as a month-long money-making spree, he points out. “Everyone jumped on the bandwagon,” he says, “but the sincerity, dedication and, most importantly, the consistency just wasn’t there.”

One of the other networks who evolved their Ramazan programming block is Hum TV. Maimona Siddiqui, the Chief Content Officer of the network, asks a pertinent question: why is there Ramazan programming in the first place, whether it’s a full-fledged live transmission, a sitcom or drama? “If we look at it broadly,” she says, “everything is economics.”

And she is right. A week before and a week after Ramazan, television is flush with commercials. Advertisers realise that the quantity of audience, sitting in front of their TV screens, peaks during the month. The eyeballs are there, so advertisement campaigns and budgets swell to capture people’s attention.

“Our entire lifestyle changes during Ramazan, and television becomes more of a family viewing time than it usually is, especially post-Iftar,” Maimona explains.

Instead of concentrating on live transmissions (they did have one a few years ago, she says), Hum TV has opted to work on their strength. “We realised that our mainstay is dramas, so the decision was made to make our dramas better and more appealing for the audience during the month,” she says.

The trend of producing dramas that air daily with a lighter mood began a few years ago, Maimona says. With the exceptional performance of the Farhan Saeed- and Iqra Aziz-starrer Suno Chanda, it turned into a regular practice for the network.

“Last year we had Chupke Chupke, directed by Danish Nawaz and starring Ayeza Khan and Osman Khalid Butt. This year Hum has Paristaan [starring Arsalan Naseer and Aymen Saleem] and Hum Tum [Ahad Raza Mir, Junaid Khan, Sara Khan and Ramsha Khan] at the 7pm and 9pm slots, respectively.”

Maimona explains that the dramas produced specifically for Ramazan are necessitated to not involve a lot of thinking from the audience’s part. “It’s a recreation time for the family. It should not have niche programming,” she says.

The audience for dramas does not disappear during the month, she points out. Also, the dramas produced during Ramazan have a much larger life span than that one month. Once aired, the shows remain on YouTube for people to revisit whenever they want, irrespective of the month. In comparison, Ramazan shows have little-to-no afterlife on streaming platforms after they initially air.

A live show addresses a lot of religious questions from the audiences, and every faction of religious scholars is often right there on the stage to educate and clarify misconceptions.

Geo Entertainment, another big network with extensive reach, fixes its focus on dramas as well. The network has their staple, morals-invoking anthology Makafaat, as well as the much-hyped Chaudhry and Sons (Imran Ashraf, Yasir Nawaz and Ayeza Khan) in the pipeline for the month of Ramazan.

The networks that stick to convention include PTV, but the reason for it is public demand, I learn.

Ahsan Khan, who is hosting a show on PTV for the seventh year now, tells me that he has been hosting Ramazan-specific shows for the better part of 10 years now.

Ahsan, who refuses acting gigs during Ramazan, says that he reserves Ramazan for his own spiritual connection to God, and hosting the show provides a means to solidify that bond.

“I was offered a month-long gig to host a Ramazan game show, but I declined,” he says.

Even after 10 years as a host, Ahsan affirms that he is still sticking to his original agenda.

“I’m neither a scholar nor a preacher. I don’t teach or lecture. I learn,” he says. “This transmission has changed me as a human being. I’m becoming better, kinder. I won’t say I’ve achieved something, but I try my best to improve myself,” he tells me.

“You get an opportunity to learn from scholars, and have a responsibility to provide education,” he says.

“Television changes perception. It defines narratives and changes vision and educates. In some countries, films command more attention and, in other countries, streaming platforms have started becoming bigger. But, in our country, television is still huge and you can’t force people to watch anything,” Ahsan continues, explaining the demand for live broadcasts that run at Iftar, Sehri and mid-day.

“People like to be a part of Ramazan shows,” he says, “whether it’s by visual or physical participation.”

The idea of people’s interaction plays well into Bol TV’s broadcast agenda, one assumes. The network banks on Ramazan in the traditional way: by running a live broadcast. Only this one includes a game show, and proposes to shower the audience with unlimited material wealth.

The show, in hindsight, is the Minister of Religious Affairs’ biggest nightmare.

Bol’s Ramazan transmission is hosted by actor Faysal Quraishi and, unlike Ahsan, this would be Faysal’s first foray into the niche.

“I’m not hosting the game show,” Faysal tells me. “That is being hosted by Danish Taimoor.”

To be factually correct, Danish’s show, Game Show Aisay Chalay Ga, runs throughout the year, just like Jeeto Pakistan. Unlike at ARY, the game show, however, is part of the Ramazan transmission, as per the trailer on YouTube.

Faysal explains that he is fascinated by his hosting gig. Talking anxiously about the day- and night-long experience of presenting such a show, Faysal sees the live transmission as an opportunity to bring people together, especially if they have religious differences.

A live show addresses a lot of religious questions from the audiences, and every faction of religious scholars is often right there on the stage to educate and clarify misconceptions.

Before, shows with scholars of differing religious points-of-view were there, a lot of unfounded fakeries were embedded into religion and peddled to the viewers, he tells me.

The scholars, when they sit down together to discuss pertinent issues from their individual religious standings, end up creating an air of camaraderie and harmony from the common ground that is the show, Faysal tells me. The transmissions, he says, create a calming, unifying vibe across differing religious views.

Faysal is not averse to game shows, he tells me. Forget the loud hoo-hah for a second, he says. “Corporate companies give out a lot, even if it’s for publicity. However, most of the time, it’s for the benefit of the people who can’t afford these things in their lives.

“The feeling one gets after a man hugs you after winning something he cannot afford is priceless. The people who win, you understand, would have never been able to save up enough money to buy a car or a bike in real life. Seeing them win just swells your heart — it overwhelms you,” Faysal says. What’s the harm in that, he asks?

Apparently nothing.

Ramazan programming is a Pakistan-specific niche. No other country markets the holy month on TV like we do, because advertisers and networks see it as an opportunity. While some shows have undoubtedly gone overboard in the past, and some may continue to do so this year as well, no one can deny that, at the very least, some good does come out of it.

People learn, they cheer, some even win. Those who don’t want any of that watch dramas. And those who aren’t into dramas can pray, or simply while the night away. There is no compulsion in watching TV programming.

Published in Dawn, ICON, April 3rd, 2022