Glancing at the watch for the millionth time and muttering curses about punctuality being extinct in our culture, I heard the sound of footsteps. There she was, an unhurried young lady in pink and black. She let out an exuberant greeting to everyone sitting in the photo studio. Then, judging from my irritated expression (and the tape recorder in my hand) she shot me a bright smile and let out a vague excuse about her car breaking down.
Five minutes later Sidwat Hina was at the receiving end of my torrent of questions. Seated on gruesome plastic chairs, she smiled away pleasantly at every query put to her as the harsh studio lights made our skin glisten.
“I think I’ve already achieved quite a lot,” she says without any false modesty. Sidwat has been around in showbiz for two years now but has acted in over two dozen plays. “My first appearance on the small screen was the lead role in Iqbal Latif’s sitcom Khala 007 which was aired on PTV.”
Sidwat was ‘discovered’ when she was working as an aerobics instructor when photographer Sohail Asim came by one day to conduct someone’s portfolio shoot.
“He saw me and introduced me to Iqbal uncle who offered me a role.”
‘This profession robs one of a personal life, it’s just running from shoot to shoot. But still, I plan to stick around for a couple of years. Then I’ll tie the knot like everyone else’
The array of plays she’s had her name associated with include Haider Imam Rizvi’s, Chaudhvien Raat, Titliyaan currently airing from Indus, Khul Ja Sim Sim and Dard-i-bay-Zubaan.
“Seep aur Moti was the other play for Iqbal (Latif) that I worked on, but it hasn’t gone on air yet” she says struggling to remember the name of her projects.
With her family of seven siblings originally hailing from Abbotabad but now based in Karachi, this young lady with her sharp chiselled features is the eldest child.
“My childhood wasn’t a very memorable one because I went through a lot of crises at that (time),” she remarks practically. “I’ve been raised by my maternal grandparents who pampered me thoroughly because when I was born my mother was quite young.” “My grandmother passed away a few years ago; that’s when I came to live with my parents. Life is a drama in itself,” she finishes in her clear voice.
Her mother, she says, has supported her all along. “Whenever I’ve been disheartened she’s egged me on; there was a stage when I had totally planned to quit but she encouraged me to hang on.”
Eager to talk about her work, Sidwat says she’s “always been a straight forward worker and very selective about (her) projects. And I do feel I’ve done my best in all that I’ve taken up,” she says with poise.
Her basis for choosing a play to work in is first and foremost the script.
“It doesn’t matter to me if I have the lead or not.” Then she adds, “Of course if they give me the third lead then that’s unacceptable.”
Sidwat holds small screen icons like Roohi Bano and Khalida Riyasat in high esteem. “These are names instilled in the hearts of one and all because they used to work with dedication,” she comments analytically as she swings one leg over the other; her delicate anklets dangling merrily.
When asked which director holds a special place in her heart, she retorts without hesitation, “Haider Imam Rizvi. He is so terribly thorough and extracts exactly what he wants from his actors. I had such fun working (under) him.”
She’s quick to disillusion me about her apparently chic line of work.
“This profession robs one of (a) personal life, it’s just running from shoot to shoot. But still, I plan to stick around for a couple of years.” She pauses, then grins and adds, “Then I’ll tie the knot like everyone else.” I don’t have to probe much to get her talking about her love life. “There’s a ‘sort of’ understanding with my cousin in Lahore,” she reveals effortlessly with her easy laugh.
After marriage Sidwat is very clear about not wanting to have anything to do with the glitz and glamour of showbiz. “Every phase of life has it’s own perks; I’m revelling in this field right now. Later, I want to focus on my marriage. I don’t want to do anything which would create conflicts and tiffs in my personal life.”
She agrees there are people besmirching showbiz. “But (then you find them in) every other profession. It’s all up to the individual. If I want it to, then something bad can happen. Of course I’ve had more sour experiences than good ones, that’s part and parcel,” she says matter-of-factly.
Commenting on her mother’s marriage at a tender age, Sidwat believes that marriage can wait until a person has attained maturity. “Marriage is inevitable but the woman must have sense before she steps into this relationship.”
Sidwat is a sucker for oily, typically-Pakistani cuisine, “Spicy, spicy,” she says mischievously, and one almost expected her to lick her lips. She enjoys movies with odd story lines and soft music manages to soothe her. “Lata is my absolute favourite singer,” she declares and without further ado she launches into a timeless ditty. I enjoy the brief rendition.
“I’m not a romantic at all. Romance and all that mush sounds so fake and theatrical to me,” she says astounding me. “I’m practical beyond belief. Would you believe it, I don’t even have friends. Today’s friendships...” That’s all she states leaving me to figure it out. “True friendship needs time and commitment.” After this cynical comment she adds, “Sometimes I feel I don’t belong in this world.”
There are times when she craves to be left alone; just sitting on the beach and enjoying the salty breeze. It’s hard to believe that this collected lady can lose her temper in a split second. “I don’t scream when I’m angry. I just clam up and shut everybody out.”
As I leave I can hear her boisterously demanding a cup of tea from one of the men in the studio.