The final episode of Zard Patton Ka Bunn aired last weekend, concluding an under-appreciated journey created by writer Mustafa Afridi and director Saife Hassan. The drama wasn’t your typical romance-driven story but a thoughtful exploration of the challenges faced by women in Pakistan that are rarely addressed with such sensitivity on TV.
Unlike Mustafa and Sharjeena’s romance in Kabhi Main Kabhi Tum, which has been the talk of the town lately, Zard Patton Ka Bunn is rooted in everyday struggles, aiming to shed light on systemic issues such as gender inequality, barriers to education, child labour, and overpopulation, with patriarchy being the overarching theme.
The theme is effectively weaved into its OST too, which chants, “pakro pakro pakro, dekho parh na jaye larki / jakro jakro jakro, agay badh na jaye larki [catch her, make sure the girl doesn’t study, make sure she doesn’t progress].”
Starring Sajal Aly and Hamza Sohail, the drama revolves around Meenu, a spirited village girl with dreams of becoming the first doctor from her village. Aly plays Meenu with a fierce resolve, battling family and societal expectations.
In contrast, Sohail’s character, Dr Nofil, is posted to the village to run a hospital that isn’t functional when he arrives. Seeing no purpose in his stay, he decides to return to the city, only to be held back by Meenu who awakens his conscience and reminds him of his responsibility to treat ailing villagers who’ve lived for years without access to proper healthcare. Therein starts the story of Meenu and Dr Nofil.
Throughout the show, the writer highlights various themes, such as the importance of an educated mother, as is seen in the conversation between Meenu and her pregnant friend, and the importance of family planning, as is emphasised in various conversations in the show. The societal evil of child labour is also tied into this, whereby the villagers justify having more and more children since they are seen as earning members of the family instead of just what they are — children.
The repercussions of these evils are then portrayed in two gut-wrenching instances — the first results in the death of a woman while delivering her fifth child, and the second in the death of a young girl after she is brutally tortured by her employers. The two tragedies prompt a shift in the villagers’ outlook, leading them to gradually accept Dr Nofil, who was once regarded with suspicion.
Amidst several hardships and day-to-day drama that remain the core of the show, the audience is treated to an old-school romance between the two leads in the absence of technology, as they discreetly exchange glances and letters. The show is balanced with some well-executed light-hearted scenes too, like the need to climb a tree to get phone signals. This is also where we see Meenu realising her feelings for Dr Nofil for the first time.
Needless to say, both actors flawlessly embodied their characters. While Aly has always been known to ace emotional scenes, Sohail does not stand too far behind in infusing Dr Nofil with an understated, captivating charm that leaves viewers yearning for more interaction between the two characters.
One cannot help but show immense appreciation for the writer as well for putting so much thought into creating supporting characters that actually go through a developmental arc and, subsequently, add value to the script.
Afzal Khan, the village’s only dispensary worker, is a standout. He starts off feeling threatened by the arrival of an actual doctor because the compounder is the closest thing the village has had to a doctor all these years. Eventually, he becomes Dr Nofil’s strongest supporter, advocate and guide through the everyday chaos of village life.
Meenu’s father, Bhooray Khan, played by the talented Tanveer Syed, is another exceptional supporting character. He offers his unwavering support to Meenu, encouraging her education and openly celebrating her accomplishments — a rare representation in Pakistani dramas. One scene particularly stands out when he smashes his highly prized possession — rooster eggs — at a crowd that had gathered in front of their house to confront Meenu.
Dr Nofil’s candid relationship with his father, as is depicted in the scene where he pours his heart out to his father on a phone call without any fear or inhibitions, also highlights the positive impact such open, trusting parental bonds can have.
The ending is both inspiring and fulfilling, with Meenu humbly acknowledging the contributions of everyone who supported her journey. Her success becomes a shared triumph because, as she says, her story is not hers alone.
Though Aly delivers an impressive performance as Meenu, one notable flaw is her accent — it occasionally diverges from the regional style expected for her character, particularly during her lessons with Dr Nofil. This minor inconsistency, however, does little to detract from the overall power of her portrayal.
Overall, Zard Patton Ka Bunn is a triumph, blending direction, writing, and acting into a memorable, thoughtful series. It is a feather in caps of the director and writer cap. Hassan and Afridi have crafted a narrative that stands out from conventional love stories, offering viewers a rare combination of social critique and heartfelt storytelling. Memorable characters performed to the T by all cast members, Zard Patton ka Bunn is truly one for the books!
The haunting background score, particularly Hassan Badshah’s soulful ghazal ‘Naghma-e-Ishq’, is the perfect finishing touch, tugging at heartstrings as the credits roll. This drama is a testament to what Pakistani television can achieve when tackling stories that truly matter. Unfortunately, such shows, although much needed compared to the average love stories and domestic dramas, come once in a long while.
