تازہ ترین

Tabish Hashmi has built his public profile on warmth, humour and a reputation for speaking his mind. His show Hasna Mana Hai made him a household name, and his film debut in Aag Lagay Basti Mein widened that profile further. But a sequence of events over the past few days has placed him at the centre of a controversy that cuts deeper than most he has faced, because it touches on something Pakistani audiences take very seriously: the sincerity of public voices when they speak on Kashmir. The sequence began when Hashmi posted on his Instagram announcing that Hasna Mana Hai had come to an end. The announcement landed at a moment of heightened public emotion, coinciding directly with his video in support of Kashmiri protesters who were demonstrating against what they described as unrest and violence in the region. The timing created an obvious and powerful impression in the minds of many followers: that his show had been shut down as a consequence of his stand on Kashmir. The response was immediate. Hashmi received an outpouring of solidarity and support from social media, with many people praising him for paying a professional price for speaking up. Then came the reveal. It turned out that Hasna Mana Hai had not been cancelled at all. The show’s set was simply being redesigned and renovated. The announcement of the show’s end was a marketing exercise to generate excitement around the new set reveal, and the Kashmir video had been used in proximity to that announcement in a way that allowed the association to form organically in the public mind without being explicitly stated. Content creator and commentator Ali Arif was among the most visible voices to call out what had happened. In a video addressing the controversy, he went through the sequence of events and pointed out precisely what Hashmi had done: posted a video about Kashmir, allowed the public to connect it to his show’s apparent end, absorbed the sympathy and support that followed, and then revealed the whole thing was a set change. He criticised Hashmi specifically for not clarifying the situation while the solidarity was pouring in, arguing that the failure to correct the impression was itself the problem. The public reaction was sharp and widely shared. “This is what is wrong with this nation. Using a tragedy for your gain,” wrote one person. Another said simply, “Such a sad state of affairs.” A third was even more pointed: “He made a mockery of taking a stand.” The controversy has prompted a genuine conversation about the ethics of celebrity activism in Pakistan, particularly when serious political or humanitarian situations are in the vicinity of promotional content. Whether the proximity of the Kashmir video and the show announcement was deliberate or poor timing, the result has been a significant erosion of goodwill from an audience that had, until this week, been squarely in Hashmi’s corner.

Rakhi Sawant has always been one of Indian entertainment’s most unfiltered personalities, and a recent interview with BBC Hindi has given her fans on both sides of the border a moment to genuinely pause and reflect. In the interview, the actress and digital influencer spoke with visible emotion about her Pakistani fans, delivering a remarkably candid account of a connection that has quietly shaped her personal life in ways she had perhaps not expected. Sawant, who now follows Islam and has spoken openly about her affection for Muslims, did not approach the subject diplomatically or with the kind of measured language public figures typically deploy when navigating Indo-Pakistani sentiment. She spoke from personal experience, and the honesty of what she said has resonated widely. “They love me a lot,” she said, speaking of her Pakistani fans. “We Pakistanis and Hindus share a love-and-hate relationship, but whenever something happens to me, Pakistanis reach out first. Sometimes I have a fever, and no one from India shows up, but they come and take me to the hospital.” The admission was striking in its specificity. She was not speaking in generalities about cultural warmth or neighbourly affection. She was describing concrete acts of care at moments of genuine vulnerability, people showing up when she was unwell, accompanying her to hospital, filling a gap that others had left empty. She continued with equal candour, acknowledging the political narrative that frames the two countries as adversaries while making clear that her personal experience simply did not match that framing. “I know they are our enemy, our country’s enemy, but what’s true is true,” she said. “They love me a lot. I am just a neighbour residing in this building, and as neighbours, they are always there for me.” The online reaction to the interview has been overwhelmingly warm and has prompted a broader conversation that goes well beyond Sawant herself. Both Pakistani and Indian viewers flooded the comments to express agreement with the sentiment she was articulating. The most consistent thread running through the responses was the distinction between the political relationship that governments maintain and the human relationships that ordinary people choose to build across that same divide. Commenters from both countries wrote that neither people were each other’s real enemies, and that it was politicians who constructed and maintained the hostility that defined the official relationship between India and Pakistan. People on the ground, many argued, wanted something different entirely. Rakhi Sawant’s emotional honesty in this interview did not resolve any political realities. But it gave voice to something that is rarely said plainly enough in either country: that the warmth that exists between people when it is allowed to breathe is real, and sometimes shows up most clearly when someone needs to be taken to hospital and someone else simply decides to come.

The murder of 25-year-old Karachi entrepreneur Mir Raza has sent shockwaves through the city, and actor Shuja Asad is among those who have chosen not to stay silent about it. Mir Raza was a young Karachi-based entrepreneur who had built a dessert brand called Wafflix from the ground up. At just 25, he was carving out a name for himself in the business world, the kind of story that Pakistan needs more of. Then, in a devastating and senseless turn, he was abducted in his hometown. His body was later found in Gulistan-e-Johar, another young life violently cut short in a city that has seen too many. Shuja Asad, who has been building a strong reputation through back-to-back hit drama projects, stepped away from his professional commitments and joined a protest at Bahadurabad demanding justice for Mir Raza. YouTuber Azlan Shah joined him at the demonstration, and both added their voices to a growing chorus of citizens asking how a young man building something legitimate could simply be taken and killed without accountability following. What made Asad’s presence and his remarks particularly pointed was the comparison he drew, one that landed hard with those who heard it. He noted that law enforcement agencies had been visibly active in responding to Wasim Akram’s missing dog, a situation that had generated its own wave of public attention, while a young man had been abducted and murdered without the same urgency or visible response. The contrast was stark and his willingness to name it publicly was widely appreciated. He also called directly on Karachiites to join the protest and demand that Mir Raza’s case be taken seriously. His message was clear: this was not someone else’s tragedy to grieve from a distance. This was a Karachi story, and the people of Karachi had a responsibility to show up. The response from the public was immediate and warm. “He is right. Young men of Karachi deserve better,” wrote one person. “Great brother Shuja,” said another. A third commenter offered direct appreciation: “You took a great stance.” The reactions reflected a genuine sense of gratitude that a public figure with reach had chosen to use that reach for something that mattered. For many ordinary Karachiites who have felt the helplessness of watching violence go unaddressed, seeing Shuja Asad standing at a protest rather than simply posting a condolence message from behind a screen carried real meaning. Mir Raza’s case is still being investigated. For his family and for everyone who knew him, the demand is simple and urgent. Justice for a 25-year-old who was working hard, building something, and deserved to live.

A reel that actress and writer Mehar Bano posted while on a trip to northern Pakistan has gone viral for all the wrong reasons, with many viewers finding the premise of the video deeply unfunny and some expressing genuine alarm before realising it was staged. Mehar Bano, known for her bold screen presence and her work across Pakistani dramas and films, was on vacation with a group of friends when they decided to create a prank reel built around the concept of her fake death. The video was filmed in the style of a breaking Pakistani news report, with Mehar lying motionless on a rock while her friends played the roles of reporters and devastated family members lamenting that their holiday had been ruined by her sudden passing. The production was deliberately styled after the kind of dramatic live television reporting that Pakistani news channels are known for, clearly intended as satire. The internet, however, was not amused. The backlash was immediate and pointed. Comments flooded in from viewers who found the death prank concept distasteful rather than clever. “I actually thought she died,” wrote one person, capturing the alarm that the video initially triggered before its prank nature became clear. Another was far blunter in their assessment, writing simply, “What a third class act.” A third commenter expressed their reaction without ambiguity: “I did not find this funny.” The response reflects a broader sensitivity in Pakistani digital culture around death-related humour, particularly when it is framed as breaking news. For a country where audiences have frequently received genuinely distressing news about public figures through social media and news channels, a video that mimics that format as a prank occupies uncomfortable territory. What the creators of the reel may have seen as a piece of satirical comedy landed for many viewers as something that was using a format associated with real loss and real grief for the sake of social media engagement. The criticism also reflects something about the evolving relationship between Pakistani celebrities and their online audiences. There is a growing expectation that public figures, particularly those who occupy cultural space as artists and writers, should bring a certain level of thoughtfulness to the content they share publicly. For those who follow Mehar Bano and appreciate her work, the reel felt like a misalignment between the intelligence they associate with her and the specific choice she made here. Mehar Bano has not publicly responded to the backlash or addressed the criticism of the reel at the time of writing. The video remains shared on her Instagram account, where the comment section continues to reflect the divided reaction it has generated.