The 100-minute Chinese movie has English subtitles, but with Jackie Chan, arrows, spears and a cute panda, you do not really need much dialogue. Panda Plan 2 is loud, funny, silly and sometimes completely crazy — but that is also what makes it entertaining. It has the same fun and charm that made Jackie Chan famous worldwide. While attempting to safely transport the panda to a conservation area, they accidentally pass through a portal and land in a hidden jungle valley. The crazy tribe, ruled by a strict queen, mistakes Hu Hu for a divine beast destined to save them from disaster, forcing Jackie to protect the panda and help the villagers solve their problems. The only good thing about it is that the kids get independent at six; the future leaders of the tribe are hopeless.

Directed by Derek Hui, the movie has a good setting, something like an Avatar meeting Kung Fu Panda. Jackie Chan and the Panda must stick together to save themselves while assassins are on the loose. Jackie, who usually does his own stunts in films, is in full form in the film; the headshot-amnesia act will make you burst out laughing. The movie looks bright, colourful and exciting, although some special effects are quite good. The panda is especially adorable, but many enjoy the film’s fun energy more.

The movie’s stunts and camera work clearly show this change. Even though there are still action scenes, they are not meant to showcase Jackie Chan’s amazing fighting and stunt skills as in his older movies. Instead, the camera focuses more on silly comedy and over-the-top movement, often using CGI effects that feel less real or exciting than the action in his classic films. Kids would begin to like Jackie Chan more after this movie, as it has the perfect mix of martial arts, funny comedy, magical jungle tribes and cute panda adventures, all gelled in.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

For instance, having a book published under your name at the age of 70, but with no friends around to read it. Or finally having enough wealth to go on your dream vacation, but with no one to accompany you or not being healthy enough to undertake a journey. These are not just “worst-case scenarios”, but things that could happen if you live without a plan. Without realistic deadlines, your biggest wins might feel empty.

Achieving your dreams is perhaps a lifelong goal, but I believe it feels more fulfilling when achieved at the right time.

Everything has its own timing and a phase it is meant for. Achieving something before the “right” moment may not bring the happy tears you may experience once you achieve it when it is truly meant to happen. And definitely, achieving something far too long after you were supposed to can make it lose its worth.

What is the secret to achieving your dreams at the perfect moment? It all comes down to how you use your time today

Think about it: getting a smartphone in kindergarten would not be much fun, but getting one when you are a young adult and can connect with friends makes it special. That is the right timing.

Since you cannot always predict perfect timings of anything, the best thing you can do is utilise the present. Invest your “now” in doing something productive, invest your time and energy, and sometimes even money, into something that may benefit you in the future.

Each step you take at this point in life should be guided by a plan and an ideology that serves “your” future self — the self you should be proud to face, with your shoulders straight and a big smile, whispering, “I knew I would do it.”

For this purpose, set deadlines and create a realistic goal chart. By doing so, you give your brain a target to achieve. This makes it easier to focus on a task rather than on random actions you suddenly decide to pursue without a proper plan.

If you really want to get started on becoming organised and planning your goals beforehand, I highly recommend seeking out resources that provide a structured framework. For instance, Time to Write, a brilliantly written book by Kelly L Stone, talks about motivation and presents readers with a number of action plans they can implement in daily life in order to achieve their goals. Though the central idea revolves around writing, you can still use the plans mentioned, such as long-term and short-term quota goals, for various other tasks and ambitions you wish to achieve.

Another masterpiece is Atomic Habits by James Clear, a goldmine for anyone wanting to break the toxic barrier of procrastination and achieve their goals. The book clearly discusses overcoming procrastination by explaining the “Two-minute rule.”

Reading these books can bring a significant change to your life and help you achieve the goals you deserve and the future you wish to build.

Remember, it is always the first step that matters; the rest will surely find its way to you. Hard work and determination are the core ideas. This may all sound intimidating, but hard work and sacrifice “now” are the only pathways to a future where your goals are achieved, rather than looking back and saying “I wish I had…”

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

The site is detailed but very interesting for all those wanting to be an astronaut or have a deep interest in astronomy. So, upon opening the site, the first thing to notice on the homepage is a video playing in the background showing planets, spacecraft and asteroids, all rendered in smooth 3D.

As you scroll down, you will see sections like Eyes on the Solar System, Eyes on Asteroids, Eyes on the Earth, Eyes on Exoplanets, DSN Now, Mars 2020 EDL, Mars Relay Network, and a few more. Each one opens in a separate window.

The “Solar System” section is the biggest in all. Here, you can explore the solar system in 3D and track over 150 Nasa missions from their launch date all the way to today. You can rewind time back to 1950 or fast forward to 2050 and watch missions play out.

The “Asteroids” section lets you track 30,000 near-Earth asteroids in real time and see which five are coming closest to Earth next. In “Eyes on the Earth,” you can see live satellite data, carbon dioxide levels, sea level changes, ozone, precipitation, etc. The site updates it with real weather events, too. The “DSN Now” section shows you a live feed, updating every five seconds, of which deep space dishes on Earth are currently talking to which spacecraft.

Overall, the site teaches you more than you’d expect. You start to understand the actual scale of space. How far away things are. How long do missions take? How satellites orbit in layers. How do we even talk to something as far away as Voyager?

And these days, with all the free time on your hands, just stir the budding astronaut in you and experience Earth, our solar system, nearby asteroids, the universe and the spacecraft exploring them — all in an immersive real-time 3D experience.

Visit: science.nasa.gov/eyes

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

Sophia was a generous and kind-hearted teacher. Her way of teaching made concepts crystal clear for students. She did not favour a single child in her class. Whether it was a confident student or an introvert sitting quietly at the back, she made sure all her students felt included and were given a chance to shine. Her presence made students happy; without her, the days at school felt boring.

It was around the time of her birthday and Ms Sophia’s students wanted to make the day special and memorable for her. They thought of many ways to surprise her, but they knew that the school management would not allow them to have a grand celebration that would disrupt the normal routine of the school.

So the students planned her birthday celebration at a local restaurant nearby. The children took permission from their parents and all of them contributed money for the cake, balloons, decorations and gifts.

Some parents accompanied their children to help them carry out the plan. The ambience of the restaurant was lively and festive. The children decorated the walls with balloons and bunting.

They had already bought small presents for their teacher and neatly arranged them in one corner. Soon the table was filled with delicious food, such as chowmein, biryani, donuts and a chocolate fudge cake. Everyone excitedly waiting for their teacher to arrive.

After some time, Ms Sophia arrived and was warmly welcomed by everyone. The celebrations started with the cake-cutting. Ms Sophia became teary-eyed as she could not believe the children loved her so much. She hugged every child and opened their thoughtful gifts. She became very emotional and appreciated the efforts of all her students, but also gently told them that even a simple card with heartfelt effort would have been enough to make her day special.

Everything went perfectly and when they were all saying their goodbyes, a beggar approached the group.

Ms Sophia noticed that the children did not seem to care or pay much attention. She realised that her teaching would not mean much if her students did not learn the basic lesson of humanity.

She called them over and said, “I love you all, and I will always cherish the memories we have made. But more importantly, you must grow into kind and generous humans. Do you know how to start?”

Without another word, she walked over to the restaurant’s counter and bought the poor child a burger. Seeing her do this truly touched the students’ hearts and made them think more deeply.

Just like always, Ms Sophia had led by example. She was passionate about teaching her students to become good people and, once again, she showed them that kindness and generosity should be part of everyday life.

Let us all try to be a little gentler and kinder to others, especially those who are struggling with things they cannot control.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

Daniel Park from Illinois has earned a Guinness World Records title for owning the world’s largest collection of Bearbricks, with 3,482 pieces.

Park, known online as BrickChicago, began collecting the colourful toy figures five years ago after opening a blind box. He said the appeal of Bearbricks lies in their simple design, which allows endless creative styles and themes.

His collection includes figures inspired by superheroes, musicians, pop culture characters and famous artworks, including Batman, Superman, Hello Kitty and Mickey Mouse.

Robot wolves in demand to scare bears

Ohta Seiki is receiving a surge of orders for its “Monster Wolf” robot after a rise in deadly bear attacks across Japan.

The animatronic wolf, created to scare away wild animals, features flashing red eyes, growling sounds and moving parts designed to frighten bears, deer and boars.

According to official data, bears killed 13 people in Japan during 2025-26, while more than 50,000 sightings were reported nationwide. The animals were spotted near homes, schools, supermarkets and hot spring resorts.

Company president Yuji Ohta said the devices are handmade and cannot currently be produced fast enough. The firm is now developing upgraded versions that can move on wheels and patrol areas automatically.

Plushies cleaner goes viral online

A Japanese laundry service is gaining viral attention for its spa-like cleaning treatment for stuffed toys, from teddy bears to Pikachu plushies.

At Cleaning Yonmarusan in Yamanashi, cleaning expert Masakazu Shimura carefully hand-washes, steams and brushes soft toys using delicate fabric-care techniques. Videos of the process have become popular on social media, attracting customers from around the world.

The company now cleans more than 10,000 plush toys each year, far more than a decade ago, as younger generations embrace plushie culture and sentimental keepsakes.

Many customers see the toys as family members and sometimes request that scratches or marks be preserved because of their emotional value.

Massive 11,000-carat ruby found in Myanmar

An 11,000-carat ruby has been discovered in Myanmar, making it one of the largest gemstones ever found in the country’s famous Mogok mining region.

The 2.2-kilogramme stone was presented to President Min Aung Hlaing and described by state media as exceptionally rare and high in quality, with a purplish-red colour and yellow undertones.

Officials said the ruby is smaller than a 21,450-carat stone discovered in Mogok in 1996, but may be more valuable because of its colour, clarity and overall quality.

The Mogok region in Myanmar’s Mandalay area is known worldwide for its prized “pigeon-blood” rubies, some of the most valuable gemstones in the world.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

Laika Studios has released the teaser for Wildwood, a stop-motion animated fantasy film based on the novel by Colin Meloy and Carson Ellis.

The story follows Prue McKeel and Curtis Mehlberg as they try to rescue Prue’s baby brother after he is kidnapped by crows and taken into a magical forest near Portland. The film features Laika’s signature handcrafted stop-motion animation, mixed with CGI for larger fantasy sequences.

Peyton Elizabeth Lee voices Prue alongside Jacob Tremblay, with a cast including Carey Mulligan, Mahershala Ali and Angela Bassett. Directed by Travis Knight, the film releases in theatres on October 23.

The Rings of Power returns with Season 3

Season 3 of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power will premiere on Prime Video on November 11.

Set several years after Season 2, the new chapter follows the War of the Elves and Sauron as Middle-earth falls deeper into conflict. The story will explore Sauron’s growing power and the battles threatening the future of the kingdoms.

According to Amazon MGM Studios, the fantasy series continues to attract millions of viewers worldwide. The first season premiered in 2022, followed by Season 2 in 2024.

The Immersive Adventure returns

Disney will launch Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean: The Immersive Adventure in 2027, bringing the world of the films to life through an interactive theatrical experience in London.

Produced by Secret Cinema and TodayTix, the attraction will recreate Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl with live performances, sword fights, music, stunts and interactive sets aboard the Black Pearl and in Tortuga.

The Pirates of the Caribbean franchise has earned more than $4.5 billion worldwide. While a sixth film remains in development, producer Jerry Bruckheimer has said the studio still hopes to bring back Johnny Depp as Jack Sparrow.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

In an era when TV screens and mobile phones dominate children’s lives, a theatre play that offers an escape into a fantasy world is seized with both hands by parents. That’s exactly what happened in Karachi, where The Treasure Hunt was staged for two weeks at the Arts Council for school-age children and enjoyed by them and their accompanying parents.

Not only did the play prove that one kid brings two parents to the cinema, but it also showed parents that a constructive outing with their kids has a better impact on them.

Produced by Arts Wave Productions, the play blends adventure, fantasy, comedy and treasure hunting into an engaging theatrical experience for young audiences. The story follows Jack and Jill as they embark on an exciting journey with a talking tree, a lazy panda, a hungry lion, a clumsy monkey, an evil witch and a good fairy, all in search of a treasure to help a friend.

Each character brought humour to the stage and made you laugh out loud, no matter how old you are. Not only did the kids laugh at the characters’ antics, but their parents did too, impressed by the narrative that reinforced themes of courage, friendship and teamwork. The play also highlighted the importance of protecting our environment, most notably by taking a stand against cutting trees.

What makes The Treasure Hunt a must-watch is that it involves kids in the auditorium as if they were part of the proceedings. Not only did the characters ask for their input at crucial points, but running into the crowd sent them into hysterics in their seats. Whether it was the hungry lion trying to find something to eat, the silly monkey asking for something in front of him, or the fairy entering the stage from above, every action drew reactions that were drowned out by surprise and laughter.

The production benefits greatly from an energetic cast that keeps the audience invested throughout the performance. Hashir Faraz and Alaiza Jawaid bring charm and enthusiasm to the central roles of Jack and Jill, while performers such as Muhammad Raza, as the Grand Talking Tree, and Fatima Adil Malik, as the Fairy, add warmth and a sense of fantasy to the stage.

However, the kids couldn’t stop hugging the two stars of the show — Suleman Roomi’s Panda and Usman Hikmat’s Lion, who provided comic relief even in serious moments. The audience took a little longer to warm up to the two antagonists, Yaseem Usman’s Witch and Muhammad Asim’s Monkey, because their ‘impact’ lingered even after the curtains closed.

Written and directed by Hassan Malik, founder and creative director of Arts Wave Productions, the play addresses every aspect of well-being, from psychological to physical. The colourful costumes, lively performances and comedic elements ensure that children remain engaged, while the overall staging reflects the creative vision of a young artist with great potential who, if he keeps up the good work as he learns the ropes, could become a star.

Co-producer Asiyah Majeed believes that plays like The Treasure Hunt are needed now because they encourage future generations to value creativity, storytelling and the performing arts. Continued support from audiences and families will help such productions thrive, and a boost from corporate partners would also steer them in the right direction, she said. According to her, such bold moves would ensure that children’s theatre remains an essential part of the cultural landscape.

As children’s entertainment increasingly moves online, supporting local theatre productions has become more important than ever. Plays such as The Treasure Hunt offer young audiences wholesome, educational and interactive experiences that screens alone cannot replicate. More importantly, they nurture Pakistan’s theatre culture in a significant way.

Don’t worry if you weren’t able to join this treasure hunt, because the play will return after Eidul Azha for a few days and will hopefully extend beyond Karachi to other parts of the country.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

It was three in the afternoon and I was alone in the school. My mum was running late to pick me up and all the children had already gone home. The last student who had been waiting with me had left too, and now I was completely alone.

All the teaching and non-teaching staff had gone, except for a guard on the ground floor and a maid cleaning upstairs. I sat in the library, trying to focus on my assignments, but the whispering pages and creaking chairs made it tough. I was already tired, and the eerie, sad atmosphere made me even more uneasy. I wanted mum to come so that I could go home and rest.

After a while, I heard a faint tapping in the quiet library. I thought it was a knock on the door. I ignored it at first, but when it came again, I felt like I had to check who it was.

I slowly stepped out into the corridor. It was silent, with only the sound of birds far away and the soft movement of air, while the shadows of the trees made odd shapes on the floor. Suddenly, my heart skipped a beat when I saw a figure — someone quickly disappearing at the end of the corridor! It wasn’t the maid, nor the guard, it was someone in a long, hooded gown.

I tried to move, but my legs felt rooted to the spot. Frozen with fear, I somehow managed to take a step forward and went towards the place where I had seen the figure, but no one was there. Scared, I looked around. From the railing of the corridor, I looked down and spotted the hooded figure again on the ground floor. I ran down the stairs, but when I reached the ground floor, I found only the guard, startled by my sudden approach.

The usually busy, bustling school was so quiet that it felt unfamiliar, almost like a haunted house. Feeling uneasy, I headed to the bathroom, but one of the doors was locked, seemingly from the inside. For a moment, I was convinced someone else was in the building. I washed my face to calm myself, but as I reached for a tissue, I sensed someone behind me. A cold shiver ran down my spine and, without turning, I screamed.

Just then, the maid entered the washroom and asked if I was okay. I couldn’t answer. She then told me to go out, saying my mum had arrived. I saw mum in the corridor, looking apologetic. I rushed to her and hugged her. Then I returned to the library to pick up my bag and headed home without much discussion.

I convince myself that it had just been my imagination. I was tired and sleepy, and the school building was completely silent with almost no one around, which had created strange illusions in my mind. I am still confused about it and don’t think I will ever forget those most terrifying minutes of my life.

Thankfully, after that day, my mum was never late, so I never had to wait there alone.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

The last night of the school summer camp always felt different.

By day, the school grounds were loud and alive — cricket matches on the field, laughter echoing through the corridors, teachers pretending to be stricter than they really were.

But that night, everything had quietened down. The classrooms were dark, the swings creaked softly in the warm breeze and the sky stretched endlessly above.

A group of friends had decided that they wouldn’t sleep.

“Tonight’s the night,” Ali whispered, sitting cross-legged on his sleeping bag. “We explore the school.”

And then, within minutes, the five of them slipped out into the hallway, their footsteps cautious, but excited. The building looked completely different at night. Shadows stretched longer, the notice boards seemed older and even the trophies in the glass cabinets looked like they were watching them.

They first made their way to the science lab.

“Imagine if something moves,” Bilal said, half-joking.

“Stop it,” Ali muttered, even though he felt the same chill creeping up his spine.

The lab door creaked open louder than it ever had before. Inside, everything was still. Beakers, a model skeleton, charts, all looked normal… until a sudden tap echoed from the back of the room.

They all froze.

“Did you guys hear that?” Sana whispered.

There was another tap.

Ali slowly raised his flashlight toward the sound. For a moment, it landed on the tall skeleton model in the corner and he swore he saw it move.

Then suddenly, like in all horror movies, a cat jumped off the windowsill, knocking something over. They all screamed.

“Ohhh… it’s just a cat!” Hamza said, clutching his chest. “I almost died for no reason!”

After that, the fear melted away, replaced by a strange courage. They wandered to the playground next and walked on the cool grass, staring at the stars.

“Why does this feel… kind of special?” Sana said softly.

No one answered immediately, but they all felt it.

Maybe it was the freedom. Maybe it was knowing this moment wouldn’t come again. Or maybe it was just being there — together, in the quiet, with nothing but the night and their thoughts.

A soft voice broke the silence. “You all think you’re very sneaky, don’t you?”

They all jumped in terror! It was their camp teacher, standing with her arms crossed — but she was smiling.

“Instead of sending you back,” she said, sitting down on the grass with them, “how about a story?”

And under that vast summer sky, they all listened. Not to ghost stories or warnings, but to stories about her own school days, her own friends and her own nights just like this one.

By the time they finally returned to their tents, the sky was beginning to lighten. Everybody knew that this was the night they’d remember long after summer ended.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

Ahmed was somewhat selfish, and could not stand someone saying no to him. He had an older brother, Asher, who was just the opposite. Asher was kind and selfless. He cared deeply for Ahmed too, so whenever Ahmed did something wrong, Asher always forgive him.

One day, they visited their grandmother’s house. She was delighted to see them. While talking to the boys and her daughter, she requested that they stay the night and help her with some chores around the house. They all agreed.

The next morning, everyone picked a room or corner and started cleaning. Ahmed chose the attic, because he thought it was smaller than the rest of the rooms and there will be less to do. While dusting and sorting through the old things, he noticed a big brown box. It was locked. He wiped the dust from its top and took it downstairs to his grandmother, asking her about it.

She looked at it longingly and said that it had belonged to her great-grandparents. It contained antique things that she had kept as memories of them. Everyone became excited to open it and look inside.

Grandma opened the box. Inside were ancient things they had never seen before. There was a compass, an old binocular, an album, a leather-covered diary, bamboo pens, some wooden relics and an antique mirror. Since grandmother was old, she told her daughter, the boys’ mother, that she could no longer take care of so many things, so it would be better if she took them home instead. Ahmed’s mother agreed.

Ahmed could not resist the mirror and insisted on taking it. Grandma allowed him to keep it. He felt delighted as he imagined hanging it on the wall of his room.

When they returned home, the first thing Ahmed did was hang the mirror on his bedroom wall. Afterwards, he lay down on the bed and turned on his tablet.

About an hour later, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Ahmed said.

Asher entered and asked softly, “Let’s play Ludo!”

“No, I don’t want to play,” Ahmed replied carelessly.

Asher left the room dejectedly. Right then, Ahmed felt a sharp pain in his eyes. He put the tablet aside and looked unintentionally towards the mirror. There was a storm-like cloud in the mirror. Soon he found himself standing beneath it and hearing the muffled voice of his brother.

This frightened him. He thought he had lost his mind, so without wasting a second, he jumped into bed and tried to fall asleep.

A few days later, Ahmed went to the seaside with his family. There, he saw a cute baby turtle and took it home with him despite his parents’ warnings.

That night, something strange woke him from his deep sleep. Suddenly, he began hearing the cries of a female turtle inside his head. He looked around, but saw nothing. Then he looked into the mirror.

The mirror had turned black and blue, and inside it he saw a huge turtle dragging a plastic bag in her mouth towards the sea. Something inside the bag was struggling desperately to get out.

When Ahmed looked closely, he was horrified — it was him trapped inside the bag!

This terrified him completely. He immediately ran to his parents’ room crying, and begged them to take him to the beach. They tried to calm him down and told him to go back to sleep, but he was too frightened to return to his room, so he slept beside them instead.

The next day, he kept pleading with his father to take him to the beach. His father grew worried by Ahmed’s unusual behaviour and repeatedly asked him the reason, but Ahmed refused to explain. Finally, his father agreed and took him there.

Ahmed ran to the shore and released the baby turtle into the water. His father saw everything and realised that Ahmed had felt guilty for taking the turtle away from its home.

Smiling gently, he said, “You did the right thing, boy.”

Throughout the journey back home, Ahmed remained silent. When they arrived back home, he did not go to his room. Instead, he sat quietly in the lounge. Everyone noticed his strange behaviour.

After a while, his father sat beside him and asked what was wrong. Ahmed could no longer keep the secret of the mirror to himself and finally told his parents everything.

The mirror cracked the moment he finished speaking, as though the secret had finally been released. Ahmed finally understood why the mirror had shown him those terrifying visions. It wanted him to stop being thoughtless and careless. It made him be more mindful of his words and actions.

That night changed him forever, and he learnt that every action has consequences and that no living being should ever be treated badly.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

DK’s Lost in the Museum is a beautifully illustrated seek-and-find book set inside The Metropolitan Museum of Art, with a charming, interwoven story. It is charming because it features a young girl who loses her mother and is alone in a crowded place, and it is interwoven because it not only chronicles Stevie’s quest but also takes you on a ride of a lifetime through a museum that covers history better than any book you may have come across.

There are multiple ways to read this visually stunning book. Inquisitive kids can simply go through the images and try to figure out what the pages tell them. Others can follow Stevie’s story, which is about finding her mother with the help of her brother’s dropped items. The third way is to do it together so that you not only help Stevie meet her family, but also discover what she discovers as she goes through the many halls.

You can not only learn about The Met’s galleries of Greek and Roman art, but also about ancient Egypt and modern and contemporary art while hanging out with Stevie. You can also discover new things as you navigate the museum’s prestigious galleries, which house Islamic Art, musical instruments and a European section.

After you are done reuniting Stevie with her family, you can read about the exciting and intriguing galleries she had been through, this time without any distraction. Trust me, the joint work of writer Will Mabbitt and illustrator Aaron Cushley is worth your time because not only is it a knowledge quest, but it also wants you to visit an actual museum with your friends, with a code for those who might get lost in the surroundings.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

Pakistan sacrifices over seven million animals every Eidul Azha. Yet food banks and NGOs working in low-income areas say that the days right after Eid are actually when they receive the least donations, because everyone assumes the sacrificial meat is already reaching people. The truth is, it often does not.

Sometimes, people keep it for a deserving person or keep it in the freezers to distribute later, where it eventually gets forgotten. So, those of you who still have undistributed meat in the freezer, it is not too late to handover to shelter homes, domestic workers, labourers working at the construction site nearby, the guards in the street, etc.

The freezer mistakes

The biggest mistake most families make after Eid is taking out a large piece of meat, using half of it and putting the rest back in the freezer. The fact nobody knows or doesn’t bother to consider is that this act spoils the quality, the texture, the colour and taste of the meat; depending on how long it was kept outside. Bacteria that were inactive while frozen get time to wake up and do their thing.

To avoid all this, just remind your mum to thaw the meat in the fridge, not on the kitchen counter. Thawing in the fridge is a slow process, but it keeps the temperature controlled the whole time.

Best practice, before anything goes into the freezer after Eid, divide it into small portions, one meal’s worth each. That way, you defrost exactly what is needed and cook all of it.

The skin has its own story

After the meat is distributed, there’s still the hide. Did you know that over 7.4 million animal skins and hides were collected across Pakistan after Eidul Azha in 2025?

That number sounds huge and hard to imagine until you realise that those hides feed Pakistan’s entire leather industry. Some of you may be wearing the shoes made from it or perhaps the new bag you are carrying, or the new belt or wallet your dad has bought, yes, a lot of that leather has Eidul Azha origins.

Hides from sacrificed animals are collected by tanners, processed into leather and sold. Charitable organisations and welfare groups often collect hides as donations and sell them to generate funds. It’s a significant revenue stream. In 2025, the estimated value of these hides collected was around Rs6.35 billion.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

Lemon loaf is one of the most refreshing flavours of cakes, both in its taste and aroma. Beautifully soft, moist and bursting with tangy citrus flavour, and topped with a sweet, shiny glaze, it is the perfect sweet treat for any occasion, be it just an evening tea or family gatherings. It looks fancy and bakery-style, but is surprisingly simple to make at home.

With a little whisking, mixing and patience while it bakes, you will have a golden loaf bursting with lemony goodness in every slice.

Ingredients

For the cake:

• 240g flour

• 35g cornstarch

• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

• 3/4 teaspoon salt

• 210g unsalted butter (softened)

• 35ml oil

• 260g sugar

• 4 eggs

• 4 tablespoons lemon juice

• 2 tablespoons lemon zest

• 100ml milk

• 1 teaspoon vanilla

For the glaze:

• 170g powdered sugar

• 2 tablespoons lemon juice

• 1 tablespoon milk

Method

Preheat the oven to 180°C. Grease a loaf tin with butter and line it with parchment paper.

In a mixing bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, cornstarch and salt. Set it aside. In a small bowl, rub the sugar and lemon zest together by hand. In a larger bowl, beat the butter until light and airy. Gradually beat in the sugar mixture.

Pour in the lemon juice, oil and vanilla, mixing until fully blended. Add the eggs, one at a time, and beat until well combined. While mixing on low speed, add the dry mixture and milk, alternating between them, until well incorporated.

Pour the batter into the pan and bake for 50-60 minutes. Remove it from the oven and let it cool.

In a medium bowl, mix the powdered sugar, lemon juice and milk until smooth. Drizzle the glaze onto the loaf and serve.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

Hassan’s bicycle

This is with reference to the story “Hassan’s bicycle” by Kazim Ali Shah (YW, April 11th). It was a simple story, but very meaningful.

Small actions can indeed lead to bigger lessons. Hassan losing his bicycle, but still getting something better in return made the ending feel heart-warming and meaningful. The story also gave the message that success feels sweeter when we are kind and care for others.

M. Rayyan Khan,
Peshawar

Easier said than done

This is regarding the story “Easier said than done” by Fatimah Khurrum (YW, April 25th).

Being confident and comfortable with yourself is not as easy as people make it sound. Social pressure, especially those received on online spaces, can make a person doubt themselves and feel less important.

In my opinion, the story sends a simple, but honest message: accepting yourself takes time and it is okay if it does not happen instantly. Even a small step towards being real matters.

Hadia Naghman,
Faisalabad

The unread letters

This is with reference to the story “The unread letters” by Eshaal Hashmi (YW, April 25th).

We often delay things, thinking there will always be time later. But sometimes, that “later” never comes. It makes you realise how important it is to value moments and people while they are still there.

Regret often comes from the things we did not do rather than the things we did.

In this age of digital addiction, we tend to ignore people in real life while constantly connecting with those who are far away, some we have not even met. The story reminded us to pay attention to what really matters before it is too late.

Mahnoor Ali,
Chaman

Wonder crafts

This is with reference to the Wonder Craft “No-mess pencil sharpener jar” by The Crafter (YW, April 11th).

It was a very simple, but very useful craft. The best thing about it was that it solved the problem of pencil shavings scattering everywhere while sharpening pencils, something every student has to face.

As soon as I read the craft, I made one and it solved the pencil shavings problems within minutes.

The craft is very practical, and I request the Crafter to share more useful ideas like this that can help with everyday school problems.

Adeel Saim, Ayesha Saim,
Karachi

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

It is the fourth day of Eid. You wake up thinking of an omelette and bread, or maybe just toast for breakfast. You ask mum, and she says, “Come sit, let me quickly fry the naan.”

And this is where reality hits you. Last night, the third day of Eid, there was a dinner party at your home, and there is still some leftover qorma, which means you’ll have qorma for breakfast. You see, mother is standing next to the qorma bowl with that specific look on her face — not angry and also not asking, there is an order, a warning. The naan is already fried. The plate is out. You look at her. She looks at you. You sit down and finish the qorma.

Then noon arrives and you think okay, lunch will be different. And it is different. There is a new dish on the table, next to it is a plate of leftover kababs from yesterday’s dinner, and everyone must take a share or face their mother’s wrath. Your mum slides them to everyone one by one and then it is your turn. “Finish this, also,” she says.

Sorry, but you cannot argue with your mum in this. It is what it is. She is handling it all, so she doesn’t want anything to go to waste. Keep your tantrums to yourself!

This is Eidul Azha. The big one. The one where, in most households, an entire animal comes to the house in the form of meat and your entire family’s mission for the next few days, sometimes weeks, is to make sure none of it goes to waste.

Eidul Azha is easily the most delicious time of the year. From meat overload to the endless cycle of relative invites, surviving the post-feast chaos takes a lot of water, a lot of patience and some cleaning up

What we actually ate this Eid!

The last few days were all about eating. Eid morning started with something sweet. It was good, light and manageable. But soon the meat marathon started. First, it is the fresh stuff, like the liver and kidneys, which are fried up almost immediately because that is the tradition, and also because some elders in the family insist that the kaleji (liver) on Eid morning is non-negotiable.

By afternoon, the meat has been divided and distributed, and a good portion of it is already cooked and dished out on the dining table. The aroma in the house is incredible, and everyone is excited.

Evening comes and someone from the extended family arrives. It suddenly things turn into a grand dinner. The night was not light. Too heavy on the stomach! Yeah.

Day two is the start of the proper lunch and dinner invites. Every household is cooking; every household is inviting. You eat at your own house, you eat at the relative’s house, you eat with your friends, although you just went there to taste one kabab, somehow you ended up with a full plate of kababs, a plate of biryani, two bottles of cold drink and burps loud enough for the whole street to hear on your way out.

Day three is when the variety peaks. Now you have namkeen gosht and paya that’s been slow cooking since yesterday, someone made nihari, the seekh kababs, and there is pulao as well. The table looks like a meat spread and you are again tempted to try everything.

By day four, your body is begging for mercy. And somehow your refrigerator is also.

Your stomach’s FIR against you and your family!

If stomachs had a say, they would have filed an FIR against you. It has been processing meat since Eid morning. No light stuff. It has had less water than usual because you were drinking soda instead to beat the heat. The tummy has been working overtime for four days straight, with no break and no notice.

Some people get the heavy, sluggish feeling where they just feel full all the time, even when they haven’t eaten in hours. Some people get the opposite problem, which we will not describe in detail, but you know what it is, because it is a secret between them and the toilet.

Red meat, such as beef and lamb, is full of protein and iron, so your body needs more fluid to break it down. So drink more water. This is the most boring advice, but it is the most beneficial one.

The freezer situation

I can say for sure that the current situation of your freezer is miserable. If anyone would do a second complaint against you, after your stomach, it would be the freezer. It has also been treated without considering its rights.

There are bags in there that have been carefully labelled by your mum; however, there are some unidentified bags as well. The freezer is overflowing so much that the freezer door barely closes. And if by chance there are ice cubes, they also smell like meat.

Outside the house — the street situation

The streets after Eidul Azha are a whole separate conversation. In some neighbourhoods, the cleanup is done right after the sacrifice, which shows that the community is taking care of the situation themselves.

But sadly, not everyone feels responsible and obliged to clean afterwards. They wait for the municipality to come and do their job, forgetting that the more time the blood, bones and other waste remain in the open, the worse the situation will be, especially in this heat.

This is not just an aesthetic problem. It is a hygiene and health issue. Pests, such as flies and various bugs, are drawn to and born in it. The municipal services do try to conduct a cleanup after Eid, but they are dealing with every corner and street in an area, so they may take time to reach your place, which means a significant part of the responsibility actually lies with us.

I am telling you this so that you behave like a responsible citizen and do what you can rather than just wait for the authorities.

Getting back to normal

Now that Eid has passed, the energy shifts. The Eid buzz is quite silenced except for occasional barbecue parties. The fridge is still full, but now you see vegetables or lentils on the dining table as well.

After the fast-paced festive Eid days, the house needs a deep clean. Not a surface wipe, an actual clean. Post-Eid houses carry the smell and the residue of the sacrificial animal, meat, heavy cooking and a lot of people coming in and out. Open the windows. Help mum wash the things that need washing.

Or at least sort the clutter from around the house. Your mum has been cooking since before Eid started. She is tired. This is the part where you show up.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 30th, 2026

On May 24, our very own blockbuster, The Legend of Maula Jatt, directed by Bilal Lashari and starring Fawad Khan, Hamza Ali Abbasi and Mahira Khan, was released in the People’s Republic of China. It is the first Pakistani film to be screened there. It’s been a long road for Jatt and Noori Nath but, for sure, this augurs well for the local film industry as it seeks takers worldwide. China has one of the largest populations in the world and, therefore, its entertainment market is huge. Doing well there will mean that Pakistan is slowly but surely getting on the global cinema map. Congrats, Team Jatt!

The Great Delete

It seems actress Hania Aamir’s love for social media has lessened. Why do we say that? Because, like the recently married Ramsha Khan, she recently deleted more than 150 images from her Instagram page. However, she decided not to erase 11 photos from her page, and they are about her trip to New York, where she’d gone with pop star Asim Azhar, who was touring for a series of concerts there. Hmmm… Has she done that of her own volition, or been asked to do it to reiterate the point that the two are an item… again?

Patani’s Portal

An upcoming film titled The Portal of Force, directed by Hollywood’s (much-maligned) star Kevin Spacey, will initiate the Statiguards (order) versus Holiguards (those who disrupt order) universe in cinema. Indian actress Disha Patani has been roped in to play the female protagonist, Jessica — the chosen one — in the movie. The cast also includes Tyrese Gibson, Dolph Lundgren, Eric Roberts and Brianna Hildebrand. Well, going by what Kevin S has been accused of over the years, we think the cast should keep a fair space(y) between themselves and the director.

Rap It Up

For all young music lovers, rap admirers and rappers, a reality show titled Rap Icon will be aired later this month to select the… You guessed it… rap icon of Pakistan. The programme will have a dozen young artists competing for the title in a total of 10 episodes. In case you’re wondering who’ll judge them, there’s no need to: the judges are Talha Anjum and Bohemia! This sounds exciting. We hope the show runs till the last episode without any hiccups, unlike Pakistan Idol. We don’t want it to be (w)rapped up earlier than expected.

Office Chemistry

A romantic comedy titled Office Romance, which will be out in June on Netflix, stars Jennifer Lopez and Brett Goldstein. During an interview, the actress/singer has been quoted to have said the following about her co-star: “We had great chemistry to begin with. It just grew as we did the film together. I expected more of a rough guy, but you get this kind, gentle, but also very smart person who is so charming. That was a surprise.” J Lo, given your track record with men, you should stop being surprised, please.

Art Meets Algorithm

In 2002, as a student at the National College of Arts in Lahore, singer Ali Zafar drew a painting (yes, he can paint) that was part of his thesis show. Cut to 24 years later, the vocalist has changed that work of art into an AI-generated image for his latest music video, Shiddat, from the album Roshni. The video is helmed by Fawaz Rehan and Ayelah Asim and, to be honest, it’s pretty good to look at. The directing duo is talented. As for the song, it’s a good composition, and nothing more can be generated, sorry said, about it.

Published in Dawn, ICON, May 24th, 2026

“Fahad Mustafa and Humayun Saeed want to stay in their comfort zones — they don’t want to challenge their craft. They prefer to live in their own Disney world. Good artists challenge themselves.”

— Shaan Shahid, actor, producer and director

I wear shorts because I don’t give a sh*t. Why is everyone objecting to my clothing choices?

— Fahad Mustafa, actor and producer

“My life is like Imtiaz Ali’s films — I have an incomplete soul. However, I feel that emptiness in life brings its own brand of joy.”

— Saba Qamar, actor

“Similar to what was shown in Kafeel, I was encouraged by my son to go ahead with my third marriage, even though my mother and daughters initially opposed it. He told me he would stand by my decision.”

— Atiqa Odho, actor

Published in Dawn, ICON, May 24th, 2026

“Television comes into your household and families watch it together. Sometimes, children have the remote control in their hands. With cinema, you buy a ticket and go to see a movie. The treatment can be grander, more glamorous and the topics being discussed can push boundaries.”

The cinematic story currently under discussion is Luv Di Saun, ARY Films’ cinematic offering for Eidul Azha this year. And based on seeing the trailer alone, one can tell that it would have been difficult to fit this story into TV’s restricted framework.

Farhan Saeed seems to be playing the quintessential son of the soil, roaming Lahore’s scenic streets, where he encounters Mamya Shajaffar, who plays a prostitute trapped in a life from which she yearns to be free. There is music and action, a sardaarji and a few jokes here and there.

I recount this assessment of the story to the two lead actors and Farhan quips to Mamya, “Bass, the interview is done!” He then adds, “But you have missed some of the twists in the story.”

The Eidul Azha release Luv Di Saun, featuring Farhan Saeed and Mamya Shajaffar, blends romance, action, an adult theme — and a social message about second chances. Whether or not its ambitious mix resonates with audiences remains to be seen

Of course, there must be more. I meet the movie’s two leads on a scorching hot Karachi afternoon, and one of the first questions I pose to them is a generic ice-breaker: why should we go see Luv Di Saun this Eidul Azha?

“Because we’re in it,” Farhan quips, and then continues, “I think it’s an entertainer that the whole family can go to the cinema to watch during the holidays and enjoy music, action, comedy and also register a heartfelt message that forms an important part of the story.”

Mamya adds, “It’s a complete package, for everyone to watch. The story is great, which is one of the reasons I signed on to this movie. I also wanted the opportunity to work opposite Farhan.”

“I think given the demands of the character, Mamya was the best fit for the female lead,” adds Farhan.

SECOND CHANCES

This leads me to ask Mamya whether she had any apprehensions about playing a prostitute? Given Pakistan’s cultural limitations, in most desi narratives, the hero saves the girl from a life in the red-light district at the nth hour. Mamya’s Billo, though, is very evidently a working girl.

“Of course, I thought about it,” she says. “But then I thought to myself, if I didn’t play this role, who would? It’s a challenging character and I wanted to see if I could pull it off.

“There is also an important message in the movie that I believe in, a message about second chances. Life sometimes puts us in situations and we have to take them with a pinch of salt, and figure out how to turn our lives around and start anew.”

The not-so-elusive message in the movie, one can figure out, is about the lives led by prostitutes and how, should they want to leave their profession, they should be given the chance to do so.

Farhan elaborates: “We are pointing out that not every girl who stands on the road is doing it by choice. Our story is about a girl who is left with no choice and, in such a case, who will give her a second chance?”

Luv Di Saun’s director and scriptwriter, Ali Malik, observes, “This movie is my heartfelt tribute to all women. It is deeply emotional and the story is meant to educate and give direction to society. Yes, it is an Eid release and an entertainer, but the message within the story is very important.”

BALANCING THE MESSAGE AND being FAMILY-FRIENDLY

Jerjees Seja, CEO at ARY Digital Network, professes his belief in the movie, saying, “It has a unique blend of romance, emotion and engaging storytelling, making it a film that is relatable and thoroughly entertaining. It is one we believe the audience will truly enjoy watching on the big screen.”

But given the subject matter, is it truly a family movie, as the producers tout?

“It was a challenge tackling a subject that could easily slide towards more adult themes,” admits producer Irfan Malik, who is also Senior Vice President at ARY Films. “The director has been very careful, avoiding certain visuals to the extent that some people may even question why the harsh realities faced by the female lead haven’t been depicted in more detail.

“Still, our purpose has been to keep the movie family-friendly, while also touching upon the subject that there is still a light at the end of the tunnel for girls who may have crossed a line and felt that there was no turning back.”

He recalls, “It took me some time to finalise the female lead because many actresses were apprehensive about playing the character. Some were worried about what their in-laws would say, and others did not want to risk the audience trolling them. Mamya may be relatively new, but when the director met her, he said to me, ‘She’s Billo, cast her’.”

THE DELAYED RELEASE

While Luv Di Saun’s shooting had started two years ago, the movie came to a halt last year when Mamya was diagnosed with the autoimmune disease lupus. A few sequences still had to be filmed but, with Mamya confined to her home, the release date — originally scheduled for 2025 — was postponed to Eidul Azha this year.

“For about eight months, I couldn’t do anything,” Mamya recalls. “I was completely immunosuppressed, I couldn’t leave the house, I was in a wheelchair for four months, and I couldn’t even look the part.

“I went through an almost chemo situation because nothing else was working but, then, by early February this year, I started feeling and looking like myself. And now I am alright and back! I even shot some sequences for the movie once I was better.”

And she and Farhan are promoting the movie full-throttle, sitting for interviews, visiting malls, even attending a live edition of ARY Digital’s game show, Jeeto Pakistan. For Mamya, this has meant eating right and resting when needed. For Farhan, this has involved yo-yoing between movie promotions and the shooting of his drama Bass Tera Saath Ho, which is currently on air.

Moreover, he tells me that he is also sporadically performing in concerts. The terrible humidity assailing Karachi around the time we meet is merely the cherry on top.

Nevertheless, the last time Farhan acted in a movie was in the 2022 release Tich Button, which he had also been producing. Is it easier to simply promote a movie as the lead actor without worrying about the production nitty-gritties?

“Of course, it’s easier,” he agrees. “I am just representing my movie as a lead actor, while our producers are running about, making sure everything happens in a timely way. They won’t be able to rest until the movie finally releases. Production is always a headache.”

He adds, “Still, I do plan to produce more movies. There are so many stories that I want to tell and I want to apply all that I have learnt while working in TV, film and the music industry. How else will I tell my stories?”

BEHIND-THE-SCENES

The conversation returns to Luv Di Saun. Aside from the much-talked-about ‘message’ in the movie, the trailer also features a few action sequences and short clips of some of the songs. Who danced better: Farhan or Mamya?

“Me,” says Mamya. “He’s a better singer and I am the better dancer.”

“She’s a great dancer,” grins Farhan. “I am just as good a dancer as a boy should be.” He goes on to talk about his action sequence with Khan Baba, termed the ‘Pakistani Hulk’: “It was very interesting because usually such sequences are with people your own size. He towered over me and I took a hit during one of the fights. It could have been worse, but I was badly hurt.”

For all its music, action and commercial gloss, Luv Di Saun appears to be aiming for more than just formulaic Eid entertainment. Beneath its crowd-pleasing exterior lies a story about redemption and second chances — themes rarely explored in mainstream Pakistani cinema.

Whether audiences will appreciate the mix of social commentary and masala remains to be seen, but the film seems to be positioning itself as one of the more ambitious local releases this Eidul Azha.

After investing so much time and effort in the shooting process, are they worried about how Luv Di Saun will fare at the fickle Pakistani box office?

Farhan muses. “Not really. You work hard and then you just hope for the best.” He pauses and then says, “Pakistan is a dream market for actors. If your film does not work, it doesn’t matter, because you are also working on TV and people are watching you there.

“We have such limited budgets in Pakistan that making a movie is always a challenge and the audience knows this. When they come to the cinema, they know that they can’t compare the movie to the big Hollywood releases.”

I interject: you didn’t mention Bollywood because you don’t want to take the discussion there?

He replies, “I think even Bollywood is struggling with only one or two of their movies and only a few of their series for OTT [streaming] platforms doing well. Yes, we also can’t stand in comparison with them because they have much bigger budgets and a massive audience watching their content. I do put forward this challenge to them: open our dramas and our movies in their country and let’s see how we fare!”

Farhan’s challenge is unlikely to be accepted at least in the current atmosphere between the two countries. For now, it remains to be seen how Luv Di Saun will fare at the local box office.

“It’s a paisa-wasool Eid film,” promises Farhan.

The writer is a fashion and entertainment journalist with over two decades of experience. She can be reached at maliharehman1@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, ICON, May 24th, 2026

Egerton plays Ben, a local who isn’t really a local, whose friendly façade is quickly overshadowed by his obvious tendency to hunt someone down and ritualistically eat them.

Theron, playing Sacha, had it coming, in my opinion. When the film opens, her adrenaline-junkie tendencies have her climbing — and camping suspended in mid-air — amongst badly CGI-ed Norwegian mountains amid a dangerous snowstorm. Her much saner beau, Tommy (Eric Bana), warns her that their luck might run out. His does.

Barely five months later, she is at it again, driving alone through Australia’s fictional Wandarra National Park. Her silent agenda (she doesn’t speak much) is to traverse the Grand Isle Narrows — a dangerous rapid leading to a secluded stretch of the stream. The park ranger warns her that many people have gone missing. Soon, a couple of hoods, and then Ben, enter the picture. Not one of them bothers hiding their malicious inclinations.

A survival thriller set in the Australian wilderness, Apex delivers one outstanding performance but struggles to rise above familiar genre conventions

However, Sacha is a survivor, and Jeremy Robbins’ screenplay (he wrote The Purge TV series) and Baltasar Kormákur’s direction (Contraband, 2 Guns) make sure you never forget it. Because you are forced to cheer for an uninteresting character, viewer interest in the film fades after it loses momentum around the mid-point.

The bland visual effects, which occur from time to time, also don’t help matters; the opening and the climax are the main culprits in pushing away any semblance of believability.

Theron, always a reliable actress, is merely okay as an unlikeable protagonist who is prone to making bad decisions, but it is Egerton who really turns this ho-hum film into a unique experience. Clearly, he was given a lot of room to play — and play he does. What range and balance!

Egerton was fine in the two Kingsman movies, which relied on James Bond-ish flair to cover their lack of originality (to be fair, Bond has that problem too, so I suppose it comes with the genre). However, his turns in Rocketman — an adaptation of a part of legendary singer Elton John’s life — and the recent Die Hard-esque airport thriller Carry-On (also a Netflix original like Apex) are enough to vouch for the great actor residing within this Royal Academy of the Dramatic Arts graduate.

Egerton could have played the character by the book; instead, he delivers a deeply layered, intricate and calculated performance that holds your attention and the film together single-handedly — even when the narrative slips.

Robbins’ screenplay was featured on The Black List — an industry-wide compilation highlighting the best unproduced scripts circulating through the offices of studio executives and producers. As we’ve seen from the neon-laden, John Wick-ish Kate, The Black List’s titles aren’t always the best representation of the industry’s “best” screenwriting. However, I’ll agree that nine out of ten ideas sound quite good in brief.

Here, the packaging is effective: Kormákur is a capable director, Theron has standing as an action heroine, and the survivalist premise is intriguing, despite being done to death. Yet, the end product hardly sustains itself, even with a brisk 95-minute runtime. It’s not bad, but neither is it good, unless — you guessed it — one factors in Egerton.

Streaming on Netflix, Apex is rated 18+ for life-threatening situations and a cannibal with sharp, jagged teeth

The writer is Icon’s primary film reviewer

Published in Dawn, ICON, May 24th, 2026

It is Bulgaria’s first-ever win and all the more poignant given this year marked the country’s return to the contest after a three-year hiatus as its public broadcaster, BNT, has grappled with financial constraints.

Hosting Eurovision in 2027, while expensive, is expected to provide a welcome tourism economic boost.

Bulgaria’s win is the first time since 2017 that the jury and public sentiments have been aligned. One tense moment during the voting saw Israel rise to first place thanks to the public vote, resulting in audible booing in the arena. However, Dara soared to the top of the board with 312 public votes to add to their 204 jury votes.

Bulgaria’s total of 516 points put it 173 points ahead of runner-up Israel, in the largest gap between first and second place in the contest’s history.

Eurovision 2026 saw a win for Bulgaria and continued controversy for broadcasters

The bookmakers’ odds tipped Finland to win with Linda Lampenius and Pete Parkonnen’s duet of vocals and live violin, ‘Liekinheitin’. The fan favourites instead landed in sixth place.

Live instruments are not usually permitted on the Eurovision stage, unless a case can be made that they are integral to the song’s artistry: it was argued successfully that the violin was Lampenius’ “voice”.

Romania’s ‘Choke Me’ by Alexandra Căpitănescu was another surprise favourite. Although she only gained 64 jury points, she came second in the popular vote (262 points) and third overall. It is the best outcome for a female-led rock act in the contest’s history.

In the lead-up to the contest, the song attracted some controversy, alleged to be “glamourising sexual strangulation.” In response, Căpitănescu stated, “The lyrics are about taking back control over anxiety and emotions that are choking you.”

Total eclipse of the heart

Australia’s entry was hyped by many as a potential winner. Even notorious Australia sceptic Graham Norton named Delta Goodrem’s ‘Eclipse’ the one to beat.

Goodrem dazzled with Australia’s most ambitious staging since Kate Miller-Heidke’s 2019 performance.

Dressed in a gown adorned with 7,000 Swarovski crystals, Australia’s golden girl was literally placed on a pedestal that ascended from a golden piano as she reached her vocal crescendo.

Australia placed second in the jury votes and ninth in the public votes to land fourth place. It is Australia’s second-best result, after Dami Im’s astounding second place in 2016.

Goodrem’s participation was partly funded by an Australian federal grant for international cultural diplomacy. Other recipients in the recent round include BlakDance Australia’s tour of the United Kingdom and Creative Australia’s support for Khaled Sabsabi’s Venice Biennale exhibit.

Goodrem’s funding underscores Eurovision’s usefulness for Australia’s cultural diplomacy and projection of “soft power.”

The inaugural edition of Eurovision Asia will be held in Thailand in November. Australia is not participating — the rules prohibit participating in both contests.

It remains to be seen whether Australia will stay in the original Eurovision or whether it will transition to Eurovision Asia in pursuit of regional diplomatic interests.

Broadcasters boycott

This year, Eurovision celebrated its 70th anniversary. But rather than uniting Europe (and Australia) through music, the absence of five regular participants indicated disunity.

Public broadcasters for Slovenia, Iceland, Ireland, Spain and the Netherlands withdrew from the competition in protest of the humanitarian situation in Gaza and the European Broadcasting Union’s failure to have an open discussion and vote on Israel’s continued participation. While the contest claims to be non-political, critics point to the exclusion of Russia in 2022 after its invasion of Ukraine as a precedent.

Their absence is a blow to the European Broadcasting Union, financially and symbolically. Spain is usually one of the so-called “Big Five” — the five largest financial contributors to Eurovision. The Netherlands is also a large financial contributor but, more importantly, has been in the contest since the beginning in 1956.

The Dutch public broadcaster stated that “participation cannot be reconciled with the public values that are fundamental to our organisation.” They cited humanity, press freedom and political interference as key reasons for their withdrawal.

Broadcasters have also expressed concerns that Israel had attempted to manipulate public voting in other countries over the past two years. Slovenia led the call for a detailed report on the 2024 and 2025 voting results, but member broadcasters received only a summary of its findings.

Eurovision’s Executive Sup­e­rvisor Martin Green stated the contest organisers were confident the 2025 contest yielded a “valid and robust result.”

Despite this claim, before the 2026 contest, broadcasters voted on a rule change seeking to mitigate third-party campaigning and interference in the voting process. As reported by The New York Times, the disparity between the statements of the executives and the resulting vote from the broadcasters raised much scepticism.

A reckoning in 2027?

Just before the 2026 grand finale, Belgium’s Flemish broadcaster VRT released a statement they would be unlikely to participate in 2027 without “a clear framework for participation, an open debate, and a direct vote among [union] members.”

The European Broadcasting Union (EBU) must take broadcasters’ concerns more seriously or risk losing more participants and reputational damage. Its members are seeing a gap between their values as public broadcasters and those expressed by the EBU through its actions and decisions.

Without change, this global phenomenon may also risk not seeing its next milestone anniversary.

The writer is Associate Professor in Humanities at the University of Southern Queensland in Australia

Republished from The Conversation

Published in Dawn, ICON, May 24th, 2026

Shaidai | Geo TV, Wed-Thurs 8.00pm

Aeliya (Nawal Saeed) is not happy. Turned down by a powerful businessman, Ali Khan (Feroze Khan), she can only think of revenge and hurting the people he loves. This might have been a chilling portrait of evil, but it falls flat because of Nawal Saeed’s obsession with glamour, fake eyelashes and a glassy stare.

This take on the Indian movie Ghajini (itself inspired by the Australian film Memento)is attracting viewers because of the lead pair’s chemistry and the popular trope of a rich guy humbling himself for love. Ali Khan has fallen for Miral (Sahar Hashmi), who might just be his long-lost cousin. What made Aamir Khan’s Ghajini so captivating was the way it used tropes and shattered them but, so far, Shaidai’s writer, Saqlain Abbas, seems to revel in them. Luckily for him, the masses love the leads and the amusing romance, no matter how unbelievable the situations get.

Sahar Hashmi is an enthusiastic performer who jumps headfirst into her roles and never feels contrived. Feroze Khan is also in his element as a tough guy playing the softie to win the girl. Credit goes to director Ali Faizan for the lighter moments, but he loses points for not drawing a better performance from Nawal Saeed.

Rahguzar | Green Entertainment, Wed-Thurs 8.00pm

Time to check in on the world of Roshni (Hira Mani), Aima (Mariam Kiani) and Waqar (Mohib Mirza) — the triangle from hell. Writer Nadia Ahmed’s heroine is intelligent enough to work in an office, yet her actions display the mental capacity of a worm. If anything terrible is about to happen, Roshni will make sure she gets the worst end of it, only because she wants to “help”.

She marries a man who despises her, supports a family that wants nothing but the worst for her, and refuses any rational action of self-preservation. The quintessential naive girl, Roshni is manipulated by everyone, especially her evil younger half-sister, Aima. Hira Mani sleepwalks her way through this role, and if there were an award for crying while looking pretty with heavy make-up, she would win!

Even the supposedly intelligent and worldly-wise brother and sister Waqar and Fehmina (Zhalay Sarhady) are blind victims of manipulation. The next tier of victims are the villains, who are also exploited by a next-level set of antagonists. The only highlight is Mariam Kiani, who shows us cold-blooded ruthlessness that is very believable.

Winter Love | Hum TV, Fri-Sat 8.00pm

Hayat (Khushhal Khan) and Mushk (Mawra Hocane) grow close to the point of commitment, but a misunderstanding tears them apart.

Their respective families had been pushing suitable candidates, such as the wealthy, controlling Fatir (Shahbaz Shigri) and Soha (Nawal Pervaiz Malik), whom Hayat has never liked. He does the right thing by telling Soha he cannot marry her upfront, but Mushk is too angry to listen to any explanations from him after seeing Hayat and Soha together. The lead couple have little to no chemistry, and Mushk’s behaviour makes her look like an irrational woman — a bad fit for the easy-going Hayat.

Writer Sarah Majeed has tried hard to introduce a lot of Urdu literature to the Gen-Z audience, but Khushhal Khan’s delivery has turned it into a damp squib. Director Danish Nawaz seems to be sleepwalking through this serial and has failed to give it the fun pace or the excitement of first love. It is still slowly building ratings, however, partly because of the humour brought in by Hayat’s parents: a poet (Asif Raza Mir) and his superstitious mother (Asma Abbas).

What To Watch Out For (Or Not)

Laaj | Green Entertainment, Coming soon

Aiza Awan and Sachal Afzal are cast as two art students in love, who are faced with a clever, manipulative villain played by Syed Jibran.

Published in Dawn, ICON, May 24th, 2026

Though Pakistan was formed as recently as 1947, the cultural tissue connecting the inhabitants of this region, like all other regions, stretches beyond its political borders and far into the past. Therefore, the history of Pakistan is inseparable from the larger cultural history of its people.

This article traces the historical development of Sikh devotional music, known as Gurbani Kirtan or Gurmat Sangeet, which emerged from the layered environment of the Subcontinent, focusing on the region of the greater Punjab.

The arrival of Islam in South Asia from the eighth century onwards introduced new aesthetic and philosophical sensibilities, without displacing existing ones. The Indus region, followed by the Gangetic plains, became zones of intense musical interaction.

From Guru Nanak and Bhai Mardana to the rababi musicians of Punjab, the story of the Sikh devotional music Kirtan reveals a deeply interwoven musical heritage shaped by devotion, language and shared cultural space

Persian and Central Asian modal systems, such as maqaam and dastgaah encountered the Indian raga-taala, a melodic framework, producing a hybridised yet coherent musical ecology. The musical heritage of this region has thus always functioned as a palimpsest, with newer layers being written over older ones.

By the time Sikhism emerged in the late 15th century, the region’s soundscape already included Sufi sama’a [musical practice] and qawwali, Nath yogi chants, Vaishnav bhajans [Hindu devotional singing], courtly dhrupad [ancient form of north Indian classical singing] performances and vernacular folk songs. Sikh Kirtan, rather than rejecting these forms, reorganised them around a magnetic spiritual centre.

Guru Nanak and the Birth of a Musical Movement

Guru Nanak (1469-1539), born in Nankana Sahib near Lahore, expressed a philosophy of Divine oneness, which he called Ik Onkar [God is One], resonant with the Islamic idea of unity (wahdat) and the Vedantic understanding of ultimate reality (brahman).

His efforts to unite the cultural streams of Sufi Islam and Vedantic Hinduism, using the vernacular dialects of the wider Punjab region, resulted in the birth of the religion we know as Sikhism.

In Guru Nanak’s time, Punjabi had not yet crystallised as a named language. Poets such as Baba Farid, whose verses Nanak revered and later incorporated into Sikh scripture, wrote in dialects that scholars retrospectively described as Multani, Lehndi or Old Punjabi. Nanak composed across multiple dialects, reflecting Punjab’s linguistic plurality. His verses were later standardised in Gurmukhi by Guru Angad Dev, the second Sikh Guru.

Nanak was not just a deeply spiritual figure but also a polyglot, poet and musician, who articulated his teachings almost entirely through sung verse (bani). Central to this practice was Bhai Mardana, a Muslim miraasi [hereditary musician] and Nanak’s lifelong companion. Mardana played the rubab, a fretless lute of Central Asian origin, and sang verses of Guru Nanak and several other poets-saints of the time, which were also later incorporated into the Guru Granth Sahib, the Sikh sacred scripture.

Their partnership in composing and singing devotional poetry became the template for Sikh musical practice, with two hymns of the Guru Granth Sahib [Sikh scripture] even being designated as Salok [couplet] Mardana, acknowledging this shared authorship.

Over two decades, Guru Nanak and Bhai Mardana travelled extensively, covering South Asia, the Middle East (including Mecca and Baghdad), Tibet and, possibly, Southeast Asia. Their extensive journeys, chronicled as udaasis, are full of accounts of how their music was instrumental in spreading their message.

At Tulamba, near Multan, Nanak’s song melted the heart of the notorious dacoit Sajjan Thug. In Benares, he debated orthodox ritualism with Pandit Chaturdas through the philosophy of sound. When confronted by the high priest Pir Dastagir’s objections to music at the outskirts of Baghdad, Nanak argued that music has both the power to degrade or elevate, depending on the intention and skill of the practitioner.

It was at Kartarpur, by the Ravi River, where Guru Nanak established a settled community, that Kirtan became institutionalised, with two daily congregational sessions — pre-dawn and evening — with sohila [Sikh hymns] continuing individually late into the night.

The hymns were usually accompanied by the rabab and pakhawaj, sung in both folk tunes and in classical ragas [traditional melodic frameworks], appreciated by villagers and by connoisseurs. Thus, Nanak deliberately bridged the elite and popular musical worlds, using music as an instrument of social integration. Communal eating [langar] further reinforced this musical egalitarianism.

The Guru Granth Sahib: A Musical Scripture

Sikhs recognise a lineage of 10 Gurus, beginning with Guru Nanak Dev and culminating in Guru Gobind Singh. The first five gurus were not just spiritual teachers but also musicians and poets, who composed their poetry within the raga framework.

In 1604, the fifth Guru, Arjan Dev, compiled their compositions, along with his own, into the Adi Granth [a holy scripture of Sikhs], marking a decisive moment in Sikh history. This was not just the establishment of a textual canon, but also a musical one: the hymns were systematically organised according to the ragas deemed most appropriate for their performance.

The 10th guru, Gobind Singh, later added the hymns of his predecessor, Guru Tegh Bahadur, to the Adi Granth and named the completed scripture as Guru Granth Sahib. Although a great poet himself, Guru Gobind Singh was too humble to add his own verses to the Adi Granth, though they are also often performed at Kirtan gatherings.

Besides the teachings of the mentioned gurus and some of their close companions (Gursikhs), the Adi Granth also contains the poetry of several saints (bhagats), including Baba Farid Ganjshakar and Bhagat Kabir, as well as hymns by several bards (bhatts) from the court of Guru Arjan.

Rababis, Raagis and Dadhis

The hereditary performers of Kirtan, traditionally associated with the rubab and called rababis, claim to be descended directly from Bhai Mardana, gaining their name from the instrument he used to perform on.

They were traditionally mostly Muslim, and many were well-versed in the dhrupad style of classical singing, with connections to the Kapurthala and Talwandi lineages of classical music. There is also an unverifiable story that Tansen’s teacher, the great dhrupad singer of the Bhakti tradition, Swami Haridas, had been a disciple of Bhai Mardana.

According to a scholar of Sikhism, Dr Gobind Singh Mansukhani, during the time of Guru Arjan, there was a disagreement between the guru and some of his rababi musicians after they demanded a large sum of money during the Baisakhi festival. This led the guru to terminate their services and encourage amateur musicians from his congregation to take up the Kirtan service, while personally training them in music himself. The descendants of these Kirtan practitioners, who did not originally belong to music lineages, came to be known as raagis.

Another class of musicians associated with the Sikh musical tradition were the dadhis [ballad singers who recount heroic history]. Their emergence is closely linked to a pivotal shift in Sikh history during the time of Guru Hargobind, the sixth Guru, who established the Sikh High Court (Sri Akaal Takht).

Following the execution of Guru Arjan by the Mughal emperor Jahangir, amid accusations of supporting the rebel prince Khusrau Mirza, the Sikh community found itself drawn into the violent currents of Mughal imperial politics. Facing persecution and insecurity, the Sikhs began to organise themselves militarily in order to defend their community and faith. Guru Hargobind, who was also a great patron of the arts, established the practice of dadhi musicians at his court, who would recount heroic deeds of Sikh warriors accompanied by the hand-held percussion instrument, the dadh.

Innovation and Devotion

Besides the collection and adaptation of many classical ragas, folk tunes and devotional poetry from the greater Punjab region, as well as the patronage of entire classes of musicians, the Sikh Kirtan tradition may also be credited with the refinement of several musical instruments.

We have already mentioned the rubab of Punjab, which later evolved into the classical sarod instrument. As early Kirtan performances drew heavily from the contemplative and austere dhrupad tradition, instruments such as the pakhawaj (later the jhori), rubab, sarinda, taus and dilruba, defined its sonic identity.

In his musical treatise Qanoon-e-Mauseeqi, written in 1874, Sadiq Ali Khan Dehlvi says that the classical form of the sarinda was invented by Guru Amar Das, the third Guru of Sikhism, which he adapted from its older folk form.

Over time, newer musical forms, such as khayal [a form of classical music that focuses on melodic improvisation], also influenced Sikh music, especially under Guru Gobind Singh. Yet the core aesthetic remained devotional rather than performative, as music was meant to tame the mind, rather than excite the ego. Therefore, dance, when arising spontaneously from ecstasy, was permitted, but theatrical display was frowned upon.

The gurus also described the experience of amrit rasa through Kirtan music — a divine sweetness distinct from the classical nine rasas [Divine spiritual bliss], or emotional flavours, of Indian aesthetic theory. Evoked through remembrance of the Divine, this rasa, Nanak said, renders all other pleasures tasteless.

Confluence and Rupture

From its inception, Sikh devotional life articulated an ethic of interfaith openness, expressed as much through music as through architecture.

When I visited the Golden Temple in Amritsar in 2005, our guide told me that the foundation stone of the temple, originally called Harimandir Sahib, was laid in 1588 by the Lahore-based Sufi saint Hazrat Mian Mir, at the invitation of Guru Arjan Dev.

This interfaith synthesis found its most stable institutional expression in the early 19th century when, after the disintegration of the Mughal Empire, many stalwarts of music migrated from Delhi to the Punjab region. Under Maharajah Ranjit Singh, Gurbani Kirtan received unprecedented patr­onage: musicians, particularly rababis, were granted generous stipends and status, and raga-based performances were rigorously promoted at the Harimandir Sahib and major gurdwaras across Punjab.

This period marked the consolidation of Kirtan as a disciplined, interfaith and central practice of Sikh religious life, a legacy that would begin to erode only after the collapse of Sikh sovereignty following the Anglo-Sikh wars.

This shared sacred world was violently ruptured in the cataclysm of Partition in 1947. As British colonial rule drew to a close, the hurried and poorly managed division of Punjab transformed long-interwoven religious communities into antagonistic political blocs. Centuries of coexistence collapsed under the weight of fear and the vacuum of authority left by the withdrawing colonial state.

Communal identities that had long remained porous were suddenly hardened and mobilised, as violence spiralled across both sides of the new border. The resulting massacres and mass displacements engulfed Muslims, Sikhs and Hindus alike, tearing apart families, musical lineages and devotional ecologies that had once flourished together.

Post-Partition Rababi Lineages in Pakistan

In the aftermath of the 1947 Partition and the collapse of Sikh political and institutional patronage, the centuries-old tradition of Muslim rababis in what became Pakistan suffered a profound rupture.

For generations, these hereditary musicians had been central custodians of Gurbani Kirtan, performing in major Sikh shrines across undivided Punjab. Partition dismantled this shared devotional ecology almost overnight: Sikh congregations migrated eastward, gurdwaras were abandoned or repurposed, and rababis were left without the institutions that had sustained their art. While some converted to Sikhism to preserve their livelihoods, others remained in Pakistan, carrying the tradition forward as a family inheritance and a source of memory and pride.

Among the most important post-Partition figures was Bhai Ghulam Muhammad Chand (1927-2015), born near Amritsar into a distinguished rababi lineage tracing back to musicians active in the time of Guru Tegh Bahadur and Guru Gobind Singh. His father, Bhai Chand (Sundar Giani), was among the last rababis to perform regularly at the Golden Temple and had established a Kirtan academy in Lahore in the 1920s.

After migrating to Lahore in 1947, the family lost both patronage and visibility. Bhai Chand sustained himself through qawwali, naat [devotional poetry in praise of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)] recitation and Punjabi Sufi music, while quietly continuing to teach and perform Kirtan.

In later interviews, he recalled a time when rababis were valued for lineage and devotion rather than formal religious identity, lamenting the later insistence of allowing only baptised Sikhs to sing Gurbani, which he saw as a narrowing of an originally inclusive tradition. His emotionally charged performances in India and abroad late in life revealed the enduring resonance of this marginalised history.

Alongside Bhai Chand, Bhai Lal Mohammad (d 1962) and Bhai Taaba Ji (Taabay Hussain, c 1885–1963) represent parallel strands of rababi continuity. Bhai Lal Mohammad, trained in the Gwalior and Kapurthala gharanas [hereditary schools of music] and honoured with the title Sangeet Sagar [Ocean of Music] in 1927, migrated to Lahore after Independence and later served as music supervisor at Radio Pakistan, passing on his legacy through his son, the great classical maestro Ustad Ghulam Hussan Shaggan.

Bhai Taaba Ji, one of the most celebrated rababis of the Golden Temple before Partition, settled in Lahore’s Chuna Mandi and later made influential visits to India in the 1950s, where his compositions were documented and preserved by Bhai Gian Singh Abbottabadi in Gurbani Sangeet.

Sikh influence is also audible beyond the rababi community, for instance in the enduring circulation of Guru Gobind Singh’s ‘Mitar Pyare Nu’ [‘To My Beloved Friend’], sung by artists as diverse as Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Tufail Niazi, testifying to a shared Punjabi spiritual aesthetic that continues to traverse the porous boundary between Sikh and Sufi repertoires, despite political separation.

The story of Gurbani Kirtan in Pakistan is not simply one of loss, but of layered memory, where older inscriptions on the musical palimpsest, though partially effaced, continue to shape the region’s sonic aesthetic. The lingering permeability between Sikh and Sufi repertoires points to a deeper civilisational continuity that outlives political rupture.

By owning this heritage, Pakistan not only reaffirms its plural foundations but also draws nourishment from its rich cultural roots.

This essay is the second in a series on religious music in Pakistan, originally commissioned by the Centre for Social Justice. The first, Sounds of the Sacred, was published in Icon on December 7, 2025

The writer is an author and musician. He can be reached at ariebazhar@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, ICON, May 24th, 2026

In this age of creeping fascism through the rise of right-wing populism and personality cults across the globe, a growing intolerance for any difference — intellectual or physical — and dehumanisation of the ‘other’ through systematic lies and shameless deception leading to violence, it is good to have a few friends who can look beyond all that is happening around us and who remain calm and composed.

It’s even better if some of them suffer from an incorrigible bibliophilia, keep introducing you to old and new books and then quietly convince you to seek knowledge from both the present and the times gone by in order to keep the hope alive in these testing times. I am really happy to have some friends like that around me but the five, all younger than me, who have introduced me to amazing books over the years should be acknowledged. They include Irfan Ahmad Khan, Jim Roth, Divya Singh Kohli, Faisal Buzdar and Mehmood-ul-Hasan.

A few days ago, Hasan brought me another book I was trying to find for some time. It is a translation of the Bhagavad Gita by Dr Khalifah Abdul Hakim, done decades ago. As many of us know, the Bhagavad Gita is considered a divine text in the Hindu faith and a highly regarded religious classic across diverse cultures in the world. It is said to have been written 2,000 years ago.

In the form of a versified dialogue on a battlefield, it deals with the dilemmas of existence, if and when a war can be justified, what is the higher spiritual understanding of human beings negotiating an insurmountable world and the grey areas between what is right and what is wrong. The dialogue takes place between the dejected and conflicted warrior Arjun and his charioteer, the Lord Krishn. Krishn reveals the truths of how the universe is run and how people should make their choices.

Hakim blends the Sanskrit names, the Persian terms and the Hindustani idiom in such a way that the translation reads like a poem written originally in Urdu, accessible to a common reader.

Along with other essential texts such as the Vedas, the Upanishads, the Puranas, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata (of which the Gita forms a part), the Bhagavad Gita has been translated into major world languages. Since most of us here in Pakistan access these texts through English or Urdu, there are quite a few translations available to us as well. It is also interesting to note that, besides being translated with the Mahabharata, the Bhagavad Gita has not only been translated into Urdu once but scores of times.

However, Hakim’s translation, titled Shrimad Bhagwat Gita, is not only a translation in verse that somehow captures the depth of the narrative, but it also ensures the seamless continuity of thought and expression. Hakim blends the Sanskrit names, the Persian terms and the Hindustani idiom in such a way that the translation reads like a poem written originally in Urdu, accessible to a common reader. The copy of the 2008 edition I have was published by Sang-e-Meel Publications, Lahore. I am not sure if they still have some copies left or if they plan to bring out a new imprint.

The idea is to share the joy of reading a good translation of a classic Sanskrit text, but by no means can justice be done to either the text or the translation in a few lines of appraisal. I would just like to give one example from the fifth chapter of the poem:

“Ta’alluq ke lazzaat faani hain sab
Tamannaein yaan aani jani hain sab
Har ek lutf se aakhirash dil hai sard
Ke dunya mein paida hai lazzat se dard
Woh lazzat hai bunyad jis ki saqeem
Nahin uss mein phansta hai mard-i-hakeem.”

The closest English translation of this thought I once read was done by Barbara Stoler Miller many years ago: “Delights from external objects/ Are wombs of suffering;/ In their beginning is their end,/ And no wise man delights in them.”

Dr Khalifah Abdul Hakim was a leading academic, thinker, scholar and author of the last century. Of Kashmiri origin, he was born in 1893 in Lahore. After initial education in his birthplace, he moved to Aligarh for two years and then proceeded to St Stephens College in Delhi, from where he topped in both his bachelor’s and master’s examinations. He also did a law degree from Lahore and earned a doctorate from the University of Heidelberg, Germany. As an academic in philosophy, culture and arts, Hakim served across South Asia, from Srinagar to Hyderabad Deccan.

In 1949, he finally returned to Lahore and established the Idara-i-Saqafat-i-Islamia [Institute of Islamic Culture] the following year. He championed progressive thought in Islam and some of his major books on Islam and communism including one on the teachings of the Prophet of Islam (peace be upon him) are considered seminal in nature. His literary works include books on Maulana Rumi, Mirza Ghalib and Allama Iqbal. Hakim passed away in 1959.

Hakim’s translation of the Bhagavad Gita with such integrity and passion confirms that true scholars can be steeped in one culture or sub-culture while being fully appreciative of other traditions of knowledge and wisdom in the world. They can be concerned about the well-being of their own community without being communal or prejudiced.

This also reminds me of Syed Zaheer Abbas, considered a deeply religious man, who offered a superb versified translation in Urdu of the hundred odd poems in Rabindranath Tagore’s Geetanjali. Abbas first published in India in the 1960s and the translation was published much later in Pakistan, about 15 years ago.

The writer is a poet and essayist. His latest collections of verse are Hairaa’n Sar-i-Bazaar and No Fortunes to Tell

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, May 24th, 2026

Mere Zamanay Ki Karachi
By Iqbal A. Rehman Mandvia
Fazlee
ISBN: 978-9694413549
351pp.

Do you fear asking an uncle about a particular place in Karachi because he might drag you back to pre-Partition days, wrapped in glorified memories that sound too good to be true? Or are you tired of scouring articles for authentic information, only to find fragments and contradictions?

Iqbal A. Rehman Mandvia’s Mere Zamanay Ki Karachi [The Karachi Of My Times] offers the perfect alternative. It spares you the long-winded monologue and endless searching, delivering instead something far richer, with carefully arranged chapters steeped in nostalgia, memory and quiet heartbreak.

This is not a conventional history of Karachi. It is a deeply relatable book, with memories tucked into every page, nostalgia woven into every line and a subtle sorrow that lingers long after the last chapter — reminding the reader of a Karachi that once lived not just on maps, but in hearts.

Mandvia, who authored Iss Dasht Mein Ek Shehr Tha [There Was A City In This Wilderness] a few years ago, returns with another work, now enriched with immense knowledge of neighbourhoods previously missing. He does not merely describe streets, markets or residential areas; he mourns them.

An Urdu book about Karachi contains a treasure of historical facts about the metropolis and has nostalgia woven into every line

Each chapter feels like a pause in time, allowing the city to stand still long enough for the reader to absorb what once was — and what has quietly slipped away. The Karachi of this book breathes through trams, evening walks, cinema queues and the unspoken trust between neighbours who shared little more than walls and goodwill.

The prose is unpretentious yet deeply affecting. Mandvia’s strength lies in restraint. He does not dramatise deliberately; the drama emerges naturally, carried by memory. There is warmth in his recollections, but also an unmistakable ache. Readers sense that this Karachi — orderly, courteous, culturally alive — exists now only in fragments, surviving in stories told with a sigh rather than certainty.

Filled with answers and fresh insights, this book offers new knowledge at every turn. Unlike Mandvia’s earlier 936-page work, this 351-page volume carries a quiet magic — concise yet rich, restrained yet deeply evocative — making every page feel purposeful and alive. Mere Zamanay Ki Karachi captures the Karachi of the good times, the way the city was planned to be the federal capital. The journey begins in Bahadurabad and concludes at Karachi University, like driving through familiar streets with an old friend by your side. The memory of the now defunct Drive-In Cinema — later acquired by Shan-i-Mughlia Restaurant — marks only the beginning of this nostalgic voyage.

There is no Karachiite who can honestly claim to have known everything contained in these pages. Just for a check, do you know why a locality is called Hussain D’Silva Town — a name that draws from two different faiths? Which stalwarts lie buried in the Sakhi Hasan graveyard, or how iconic shops, renowned hospitals, and residential colonies first came into being?

Hussain and D’Silva were, in fact, construction partners — Ashfaq R. Hussain and Jerome D’Silva — active in the 1940s. The graveyard of Sakhi Hasan holds the final resting places of poet Raees Amrohvi, playwright Khwaja Moinuddin, lyricist Fayyaz Hashmi, singers Mujeeb Alam and Ahmed Rushdi and the legendary painter Sadequain.

From iconic schools and their pupils to the origins of place names like Golimaar, Eesa Nagri, and Kati Pahaarri, the book offers a richly layered exploration of Karachi’s social, cultural and historical landscape — unearthing forgotten stories, tracing neighbourhood evolutions, and bringing the city’s past vividly to life through people, places and memories.

Who were the original inhabitants of Dhoraji Colony, Qasba Colony and Bandhani Colony? Why was a particular house known as ‘Cheel Wali Kothi’? Who were Dalmiya, Abbasi Shaheed and Haider Mehdi Hussaini, and who planned Gulshan-i-Iqbal? By the time one finishes the opening 48 pages, a vast and intricate portion of Karachi has quietly been added to the reader’s mental map.

Even if you know why Lalukhet was renamed Liaquatabad, the second chapter is indispensable. It reveals histories far beyond the limits of any single neighbourhood. What does “Hutti” in Teen Hutti mean? What distinguished a dada [gangster] from Lyari from a badmaash [scoundrel] in Lalukhet? Why was Lalukhet notoriously tough for law enforcement? And which events led to the razing of the Liaquatabad Meat Market?

If Numaish gave birth to the kebab paratha, then BBQ emerged from Liaquatabad. What began as a dhaba [roadside restaurant] became an icon of Karachi’s food culture. Similarly, traversing Shahrah-i-Pakistan, from Masjid-i-Shuhada to the Super Highway, becomes a journey through layers of the city previously unknown. The way Nazimabad and North Nazimabad are revisited takes you on a journey you’ll never want to end.

The writer’s connection of Humayun Road with Sharae Faisal through the famed Battle of Chausa is highly commendable. It is also intriguing to note that, while our roads are named after nearly all Mughal rulers, Babar is conspicuously absent — a point that invites reflection.

Mandvia’s account of the transformation of “chori dakaiti” [theft and burgling] into kidnappings for ransom and violent crimes reflects the profound shifts in Karachi’s demographics. The contrast between then and now is left to speak for itself, with silences as powerful as the words.

For someone like me, who has written articles and made documentaries exploring Nazimabad, Lyari, Bunder Road and Gulshan-i-Iqbal, I feel this book should have arrived years ago. It brings with it insights, anecdotes and perspectives that would have enriched my own journey through the city.

The book captures the city’s cinema culture beautifully as well, tracing its decline from bustling theatres to streets lined with ghostly, abandoned buildings. The onslaught of VCRs delivered the final blow to an industry already gasping for life. Prices of yesteryear — a 75 paisa cold drink or a 20 paisa roti [flat bread] — now feel surreal, echoes from a bygone era that almost seem like a joke.

From the hum of roadside stalls to the grandeur of iconic buildings, from open grounds to the winding lanes a result of ‘China-cutting’, and from the hidden stories behind every residential colony, the book offers far more than reference or history — it is a companion. It turns the places we have seen into places we truly know, breathing life into their streets, shops and corners through memory and imagination. For foodies, it is a feast; for history seekers, a trusted guide. The only thing missing in it are iconic photographs, which would have allowed readers to connect with the text even more instantly.

What makes Mere Zamanay Ki Karachi particularly moving is its portrayal of social harmony. Linguistic, ethnic and cultural differences appear not as fault lines, but as threads in a shared urban fabric. Reading these passages evokes quiet envy for a city that once seemed kinder to its inhabitants and more forgiving of human flaws.

The book is best read slowly, preferably when one is prepared to feel both comforted and unsettled. It will resonate deeply with those who remember the old city and haunt those who never knew it. In preserving Karachi’s past with such tenderness, Mandvia reminds us that cities, like people, can be wounded — and that remembering them is sometimes the only way to grieve.

The reviewer writes on old films and music and
loves reading books. X: @suhaybalavi

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, May 24th, 2026

Dark Tales of Wonder
By Maliha Rao
Liberty Publishing
ISBN: 978-627-7626-62-4
177pp.

The thought of reading Dark Tales of Wonder did not entice me.

It purported to be “Rooted in Pakistani myths and folklore”, which immediately made me think of the stories old servants used to tell in my childhood. In those days, they held my attention but, looking back, they just seemed to be bundles of nonsense. Now to have to read a whole book of similar stories was not going to be easy. As it turned out, I was wrong.

Maliha Rao, the author of Dark Tales of Wonder, is based in Karachi. She is a digital communications expert with two decades of experience in copywriting and brand storytelling. Some of her stories have been published in other anthologies. She has made horror her genre of choice and is a member of a thriving community of fantasy, horror and science fiction writers. Dark Tales of Wonder is made up of eight stories. The tales are short, concise and full of suspense. Almost from the first sentence, the reader knows something unacceptable and unexplainable is about to happen.

Interestingly, when supernatural activity is suspected, Rao’s characters turn towards Allah, but in oblique ways. The help of maulvis [clergymen] is sought, Zamzam holy water is sprinkled, tasbeehs [rosary beads] are rotated and the recitation of the Quran is listened to on phones. Rao states: “The world is full of impossible things.” This seems to be the common denominator of all the stories she writes. But even sceptical readers are hooked by the themes she explores and want to find out what transpires next.

A debut collection blends Pakistani folklore, supernatural beings and psychological dread into engrossing and suspenseful horror stories

In most cases, the demon, jinn or the otherworldly creature that is invading the mind and life of its prey is either huge in size or very small, like a dwarf. But all are frighteningly ugly and sometimes even emit a foul smell. The endings of the tales are also consistently the same. If it were not so, much greater tension could have been generated.

The first story, ‘The Rice Paddy’, features a man who has a genuine gift of engaging with the supernatural but, every time he exorcises an evil spirit, he feels depleted. His life is lonely and itinerant but he finally finds fulfilment when he helps a supernatural being wreak revenge.

In ‘Crumbs and Creatures’ we meet both a huge monster and a child-sized one, who both love eating biscuits. Before much harm is done, they are appeased and it is impressed upon the reader that every preternatural being is not malevolent. ‘The Wrath of the Boyo’ has only short-statured demons but they also love sugary stuff. When two preteen boys get into trouble with the boyo, it is a good spirit who saves them from harm and leaves her mark on one of them.

Small monsters who are lovers of sweets also make an appearance in ‘The Haunting of Taj.’ Here, the protagonist just wants to make sure that the hotel he has inherited remains financially viable. He neglects all warnings of supernatural presence in his single-minded endeavour to make the hotel regain its past glory. Only when he actually sees his daughter threatened by runty, dessert-gobbling demons does he become a believer. Again, in this story, it is two good spirits who help to save the young human girl.

Family dynamics come into play in the stories ‘It Lingers’ and ‘Unholy Ties.’ In the former, a family moves into a house with a dubious past and is confronted with strange happenings. Things disappear, lights dim of their own accord, and residents are attacked during sleep. Finally, a seer is brought into the picture to deal with the miasma invading their home. ‘Unholy Ties’ spins a really good yarn about a family which has gone through familial trauma and public censure. The daughter becomes possessed by an evil spirit that is egged on by a resentful relative. The final scene is satisfyingly gory.

These initial stories have minor errors in the syntax and in the narratives. Yet, the stories themselves are gripping and their plots are well-constructed.

The last two stories of the collection are written with a sure hand and flow smoothly from the author’s pen.

The first of the two, ‘Fear and Loathing in Karachi’, is centred round a young woman, Rania, who has been crippled psychologically because of a frightening experience in her adolescence. Ten years later she is still in treatment. Her two best friends manage to coax her to face her own demons and also the gigantic monster who threatens to annihilate all that she loves. Rao develops the character of Rania expertly and with a great deal of insight. The ending is ambiguous. Did Rania really kill the monster or did she slay the demons in her own mind and so find herself again?

The last story of the anthology is perhaps the best. It is beautifully conceptualised and executed. The plot is eminently believable and the characters are delineated unerringly. The hero, Aazer, could be someone we have known or, at least, met. His aspirations and his weaknesses are familiar to the reader and understandable, given the circumstances.

When he inadvertently becomes a victim of a female spirit, his family rallies round to assist him. The personage of the pir [holy man] whose help is sought to rid Aazer of the spirit is quite unique. Rao dispenses with the stock type of exorcist and introduces instead a character at once distinctive and interesting. The whiff of romance that begins to perfume the air at the end of the story just adds to the mastery of the writing.

Even unbelievers of the supernatural can enjoy this anthology. Every anecdote features the paranormal, but Rao makes sure to infuse each one with the right ingredients for a satisfying read. It is clear that she has taken pains over writing them and that the genre is close to her heart.

The author is to be congratulated for producing such an engrossing debut collection of stories.

The reviewer is a freelance writer, author of the novel The Tea Trolley and the translator of Toofan Se Pehlay: Safar-i-Europe Ki Diary

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, May 24th, 2026

Alphabet Book 
By Ali Kazim and Hammad Nasar
Ochre Books
ISBN: 978-1-0682265-0-2
144pp.

Most alphabet books, in any language, are quiet, humble objects — functional by design, forgettable by nature, and discarded once their lesson is learned, or not.

The struggle with the Urdu script is familiar to parents everywhere, whether in the diaspora or not. Even in Pakistan itself, English-medium schooling has quietly estranged children from their own script. It is the kind of loss captured in a recent anecdote — of students asked to write an exam essay on an Ajaaib Ghar [Museum], and what became of it. Most, not familiar with the term, submitted essays on haunted houses.

The Urdu qaidas [foundational books] art curator Hammad Nasar brought home from Pakistan for his sons studying in England were dutifully purchased and quietly shelved — the script unable to hold the attention of children for whom it had already felt foreign. It was Zarina Hashmi’s 101 Urdu Proverbs that offered a different possibility: her woodcuts animated the language, and his sons responded.

That encounter planted a conviction in Nasar — that if the images are sufficiently alive, the language will follow. From that seed grew Urdu Qaida/Alphabet Book, his collaboration with artist Ali Kazim — a significant artist’s publication that refuses the forgettable modesty of the genre it inhabits.

An extraordinary collaboration between an art curator and an artist transforms the humble Urdu qaida into a work of art — one that invites curiosity, wonder and pride

Ali Kazim’s work has entered the permanent collections of the V&A, Tate, the British Museum, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the Ashmolean — a trajectory his peers have watched unfold with quiet admiration, from its most unlikely origins: a young man dispensing medicines at Gulab Devi Hospital in Lahore.

Born in Pattoki and trained at the National College of Arts and later at the Slade School of Fine Art in London, Kazim practises miniature painting techniques at scale — the forensic attention to individual hairs, the layered watercolour wash, the quiet gravity of his figures, all immediately recognisable on every spread of this book.

The text, written by Nasar and translated into Urdu by Sumair Mustansar Tarar, tells the story behind this book and Kazim’s arresting visual practice. A Roman Urdu rooted in the true and consistent sounds of the script — meticulously considered and codified — might become a standard.

Behind this book’s form and vision, the curatorial decisions tell their own story — and leave a distinct impression. The visual range throughout the book is startling in the best sense, beginning with the cover, where a Rückenfigur from Kazim’s Man of Faith series is split in half, using a creative dual-aspect cover composition to accommodate both English and Urdu titles.

Similarly, the inside-gatefold covers present Conference of the Birds as a single image divided by the spine — one half opening on to the Urdu preface, the other on to the English. Both the figure seen from behind and the flock appear as forever mid-course between two languages, identities, countries, continents, cultures and more.

Once a reader enters the book, an image quietly draws attention, in which the body is absent and the cloud is present: an artist’s self-portrait rendered in the language of translunary disappearance; one can relate this to Urdu from its origin.

The lesson opens with ‘Alif’ for ‘Imaan’ and Kazim’s Faith series, affirming that Pakistan’s faiths are many and that inclusivity matters. Aankh Macholi [Hide & Seek] is a traditional street game that children have played long before screens took over. For ‘Bey Se Baal’ [Bey For Hair], the Qaida presents a work by Ali Kazim — constructed from real human hair bound with hairspray — its dense, tangled forms filling two pages with a hypnotic intensity closer to the subconscious than to anything representational.

Chaand [Moon] presents lunar phases in grids against black — a devotional atlas of the night sky. Parindey [Birds] and Hudhud [Hoopoe] reveal his command of natural form, winged creatures rendered in watercolour with breathtaking delicacy. Tufaan [Storm] fills its spread with tempestuous cloud formations.

The chosen words themselves are an argument. Alongside the everyday — ‘Pajama’ [pyjama], ‘Darakht’ [tree], ’Chai’ [tea], ‘Nashpaati’ [pear] — the ‘Loot’ spread is striking. Urdu gave English the word ‘loot’ [rob, plunder or steal] — a colonial inheritance hiding in plain sight — and the depiction in the book gathers Tipu’s Tiger, the Koh-i-Noor diamond rendered in precise, technical yet painterly detail, an ornate Mughal throne, and other historical pottery and ceramic ornaments: a very few of the items taken away with the colonial exit.

Theekriaan [potsherds] connects the reader to the Indus Valley civilisations millennia before Urdu existed. Fauj [army] gives us Mara’s Army — Kazim’s most philosophical image, in which the enemy and the self are the same person, and the only weapons are bodies, with tusked teeth and wooden lathis [sticks] serving as negative space.

One can also enjoy it as war distilled to its pre-imperial state, or as the essence of Lashkari Zubaan [military language]. Kazim’s figures — against jewel-coloured fields of orange, yellow, teal, deep rose and cobalt blue — are painted with an intimacy that refuses exoticism. They are people: specific, unhurried, present. The rest of the exploration is for the readers.

Readers in Pakistan may find one aspect particularly fascinating. The large Urdu lettering anchoring every spread — feeling both ancient and contemporary — is the work of Birmingham-based designer Abeera Kamran, who is pursuing a PhD in Urdu typography at the University of Reading. For this project, Kamran developed a new typeface, inspired by the Muraqqa-i-Zareen, a codified manual of the Lahori Nastaliq script by Ustad Tajuddin Zareen Raqam (1906–1955). The result carries genuine historical depth while sitting with complete confidence on the modern page.

The design collaboration is remarkable — London-based studio LG-HM (Luke Gould and Hannah Montague), neither of whom reads Urdu, produced spreads of such clarity and confidence that the book feels entirely of one mind, despite its complexity. Printed on uncoated paper, it feels considered and intimate.

Ultimately, Urdu Qaida/Alphabet Book delivers on Nasar’s ambition: a book that any reader enters at the level of feeling, before language arrives. Child, grandparent or stranger to South Asia — all find something here that needs no translation. Under the editorial eye of Anita Dawood at Ochre Books and the contributors, it insists that the Urdu-speaking world deserves to be shown in all its richness, to the children it is losing and to everyone else.

The reviewer is an art critic, curator and educator who spends his time between Birmingham and Lahore.
He can be reached at aarish.sardar@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, May 24th, 2026

With the onset of summer vacations, most parents come up with do-it-yourself gardening activities for their children. Many want their children to be engaged in gardening for at least a few hours daily during vacations. Some parents even expect the plants to fruit, flower or do both before the vacations end.

But not all parents are that demanding, particularly those who are already engaged in gardening. They understand that gardening requires immense patience and consistent dedication — whether nurturing a plant to fruition or developing gardening as a long-term hobby.

The resource requirement to take up gardening, on the other hand, is quite limited: nursery soil, a small bag of compost, a variety of herbs and flower seeds, and some basic gardening tools. Kitchen gardening also requires a dedicated daily time slot so that the gardener can witness the various stages of a plant’s life cycle.

Basic gardening tools include good quality gloves, small plastic pots of at least four inches, plant hangers, seedling trays or paper cups, clay pots or grow bags, a watering can with a capacity of three to five litres and a kit of kitchen-gardening tools.

Kitchen gardening requires surprisingly few resources — just a little space, daily care and the right set of beginner-friendly tools

A variety of gardening tools are available at different nurseries, seed stores and online. It is better to personally visit the seller to check the gardening gear firsthand, especially the comfort of the grip and quality of the gear — which is not possible when the purchase is made online.

For women, elderly people and young gardeners, it is important that the gardening gear is lightweight and easy to grip. For children, gardening tools with plastic handles are preferable as they are colourful and easy to clean. Tools with a metal handle can rust, while those with a wooden grip may chip or swell in damp conditions, causing unwanted hand injuries.

The price of any gardening toolkit can vary due to the number of tools, their quality and any additional accompaniments; a small-sized gardening toolkit for bonsai or kitchen gardening may range from a few hundred rupees to several thousand rupees in Pakistan.

New kitchen gardeners are better off starting with handy, small-sized equipment, such as small packs of one, two or three tools. Such packs usually include a spade or shovel, a raking tool and sometimes even secateurs or pruning shears.

A multi-purpose toolkit contains gear that helps perform a multitude of gardening functions. For instance, in the toolkit pictured with this piece, the right-hand side has gardening gloves and pruning shears. The green plant markers are for labelling and are inserted into the soil surface with the name of seeds sown below. The kit includes towels to clean tools, and a coil of gardening twine used for marking plants and supporting vines. In the centre of the kit are two leaf cutters, which are also useful in root trimming.

A pair of scissors are to the left of the leaf cutters, with one being a long-handle scissor and the other a bonsai scissor. Apart from bonsai, these scissors are also useful for cutting leaves, smaller plants and stems. The tweezers help remove tiny yellow and brown leaves from the bonsai pot.

Finally, the most common gardening tools to be used include the small shovel and the mini harrow. Both help in tilling, digging and mixing of the soil and also play a role in specialised functions such as transplantation of seedlings and small plants.

Farmers and commercial growers opt for gardening-related machineries and full-length gardening tools as they try to grow on vast land areas. Heavier, stronger tools and strenuous workloads ensure a better livelihood for them.

Unlike them, kitchen gardeners have the luxury of adopting gardening as a hobby or to fulfil their need for organic food. Finally, toddlers and younger children can also be provided with the widely available gardening tools toy-sets and plastic pots to encourage an interest in gardening from an early age.

Please send your queries and emails to doctree101@hotmail.com. The writer is a physician and a host for the YouTube channel ‘DocTree Gardening’ promoting organic kitchen gardening

Published in Dawn, EOS, May 24th, 2026