Two years ago it was Zeb and Haniya; then came Misha Shafi and Sanam Marvi, who, along with well known and seasoned singers, made waves on TV. And this time round it is more from Sanam Marvi, besides Komal Rizvi and now the qawal brothers Freed Ayaz and Abu Mohamed so far who have rocked the airwaves. Kudos to Coke Studio for making such good music; if it weren’t for these guys you’d think suicide bombers and bombs were all that now carried the tag ‘Made in Pakistan’.

Just think about it, unlike some other bands in recent months, Rohail Hyatt and his talented House Band don’t need to compose patriotic songs that for a longtime now have rung hollow; they, instead, are doing us proud by concentrating on what they’re good at: making music. They don’t have to come up with soppy, watan-loving numbers or statements like ‘This is not who we are’; statements that have ceased to work now because they mean little else besides flagging one’s own patriotism, of mostly naïve, even if not dubious, variety that really needs to be flagged in a vulgar way to be noticed.

Here’s a nation with hurt pride, a nation whose vast majority is under the age of 25, having good reasons to feel dejected. They don’t even have memories of good old days when there was hope and things weren’t half as bad. That’s why perhaps they look up to leaders like Imran Khan who says ‘stop the drone attacks’ to heal their hurt pride; forget about bread and butter and gainful employment or fixing the dysfunctional energy sector and the economy.  The people do not need political balderdashes any more than they do pseudo-intellectual sellouts masquerading as art like Khuda ke Liye or Bol; or indeed hear badly composed and sung, faux milli naghmas, to ‘unite the nation’ and lift their spirits up. Unite against whom? Someone pray tell.

Unity is one big hoax when it is imposed from the top down. It is needed most by those who stand to benefit from it at the very top. Unity takes shape from within to bring people together when they relate to a cause of their own free will without being cajoled. This was seen in the Pakistan Movement, in the overthrowing of dictators like Ayub Khan and lately of Pervez Musharraf; in the win of the PPP as the wronged party after the Ziaul Haq plane crash; in the lawyers’ movement of late; and at times of national disaster. At such times, unity springs up of its own accord, without reference to religion, nationalism or ethnicity. It does not need a manufactured ideology or even a national language to unite behind a cause as long as there is a true cause to pursue.

Music and good art work likewise. They need no laborious explanations or canvassing for their validity. That’s why Rohail Hyatt offers no speeches; there’s no commentary in the programme to convince us of the high purpose it serves; the team doesn’t hanker after publicity in the media. Its work says and does it all. The songs Coke Studio has put to innovative fusion beats reflect the multiplicity, the pluralism and diversity that exists in Pakistan, and which is very dear to our people. They sing in Hindvi, Brij, Sindhi, Seraiki, Pashto, Punjabi, even Farsi, and carry the people with them. There are no labels, such as Sufi, folk music or even fusion, attached to the numbers. They allow the ethnically and linguistically very diverse people in their audience to give these numbers their own labels, according to their own liking and affiliations. There’s no tyranny in this music. It is for all, from all over the world to enjoy.       

Let the odd one-and-a-half experienced filmmakers we have in this country take a cue from the Coke Studio guys. There is no dubious cause here that is being served overtly or covertly by them; they just make good music, a cause itself that brings people together. Despite their hypocritical facades, our people still have the ear and the eye for what is good entertainment. If you could entertain in good taste the young and the angry, it would be damn hard for anyone to convince them into donning suicide jackets to blow up themselves and others around them.

The people need more affordable entertainment, less ideology and bad politics to know that the world they live in is not such a dismal, colourless, corrupt, hopeless and hateful place after all; and that they are surrounded by enemies of Islam and Pakistan. They need to see and know that where there are bad things happening to them and around them, there are also good people doing good, cheerful things which they too can be part of without necessarily having to spend money. And that’s where the role of the media comes in.    

If our TV channels could come up with similarly entertaining programming, showcasing sheer good talent, then our youth would not be tortured and angered by what they see on their TV screens every evening: dirty (even interactive) sling matches between politicians and mullahs that fill up our primetime slots, egged on by self-righteous anchors to do more of the same day after day. Are we really that bankrupt in the creative department that this is largely what we’re subjected to, and that arguably adds to our gloom, perpetuating the state of being miserable? If our TV and, overall, media do not showcase the many talented people we have and their skills then who else would do it?

Great artists because of their communion with the unknown can be prophetic even in their slurs. When Barre Ghulam Ali Khan left Pakistan back for India in the 1950s after having migrated here, he had said: ‘This is a country for qawwals, not classical singers’.

Little did he know that qawwals like Nurat Fateh Ali Khan, the Sabri Brothers, and now Rahat Fateh Ali, would spring from here and know their ragas as well as the classical masters. Coke Studio’s latest find in the bothers Ayaz and Mohamed, and others is a continuation of Pakistan’s unique talent pool.

Murtaza Razvi is the Editor, Magazines, at Dawn.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.