Kabulis send their Saalam for Tulsiji, Mihirji

 

KABUL: Every afternoon across offices in Kabul, a familiar tune rings out and work grinds to a halt as the staff congregates for a community ritual.  Not prayer, but close. Its time for Zamane Khushu Hum Arush Bood , the Dari version of ‘Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi’. Beamed across Afghanistan’s terrestrial network seven days a week, three times a day, Balaji’s signature show has got the nation eating out of Tulsi’s hands.  

 

While Bollywood has always exercised a powerful hold over Afghanistan’s popular culture, the increasingly iconic status of television shows is a recent phenomenon.

 

Posters of Tulsi and Parvati adorn the backs of buses and shop fronts, spaces previously reserved for Madhuri and Preity. Residents have even taken on Kabul’s notorious power cuts to avoid missing their daily fix.

 

“Many people I know have bought generators or enlarged the capacity of their batteries so that they can watch their particular shows in the evenings,” says Siddiq Barmak, renowned Afghan filmmaker. The less fortunate visit their neighbours and friends to catch it on their televisions. “We even heard of a Maulvi who changed the time of the evening prayer on the request of his congregation so it wouldn’t clash with the time of Kyunki, “ says Abdulhai Abir, who produces the dubbed series for Tolo TV.

 

Cashing in on the trend, other private channels are also broadcasting Hindi soaps, like ‘Koh-i-Noor’ on Afghan TV and old episodes of ‘Kahani Ghar Ghar Ki’ on Ariana, though these are in the original Hindustani. 

 

Many Kabulis have subscribed to cable TV so they can stay updated on the latest tribulations befalling their favourite family. 

 

“We have several private channels now, but we are still quite weak in producing programmes. Plus there are no shows that deal with everyday family affairs, so a demand existed on that front which we are trying to fill” says Abir. An ex-narrator of Hindi films for the national channel, he would watch the Kyunki series while living in exile in Pakistan during the Taliban years. “ I admired the character of Mihir a lot, but I never imagined I would play him someday,” he smiles. On his return, Abir put together the team of 12 young men and women who have dubbed 80 episodes over the past three months.

 

“It was an experiment because we had never dubbed on this scale before, with artists who had no previous experience having to play more than one character,” he recalls. The experiment worked, making the Afghan team stars in their own right. 

 

Horiya Arzoo, who plays Tulsi, is swamped with requests to act out her role on the radio show she also hosts. “My younger sister is told by her classmates, ‘Please get your sister to school, we also want to meet Tulsi’”, she laughs.  However, the downside of being a woman working in the media in Afghanistan is never far. “Things can get out of hand, people raise all kinds of objections,” says Horiya.  Farida Timuri, who plays Daksha, comes to work in a burqa to avoid being identified. The girls also had trouble dealing with the “bold sequences” in their dialogue. “For example” blushes Horiya, “having to say things like “Main maa banne wali hoon” to my boss.” 

 

These snags notwithstanding, there is no denying the mass appeal of the series. “My mother watches the latest Tulsi (episodes), even though she doesn’t understand the language,” says Lailama, a radio producer. “Her constant worry is, how much more will poor Tulsi have to take?”  The ‘Indian’ virtues of long suffering patience in the face of family plots have struck a chord across age groups and gender, with middle-aged men being amongst the shows most avid audience.

 

“The respect and love Tulsi gives to her elders is really inspiring. She is meherbaan to everyone, and a very good example to our society,” says Sardar, cook and father of six. “Culturally it is very close to what we face in Afghanistan, yahan bhi saas hai, bahu hai, unke masle hain” smiles Abir. “Men also have to bear the impact of these situations, and these serials help them find solutions to their household problems.”  

 

For the large Indian community in Kabul, the rising popularity of these television shows is yet another reason to be feted by the Afghans. Most admit to knowing far less about the plot and characters than their Afghan colleagues. Occasionally, this can create unusual problems.  “One of my clients is such a big fan of Kyunki he insists I get him a DVD set of the entire series, says Neel Pandit of IO Global. “I’ve had to stop calling him because it’s the first thing he asks about.”

 

To maximise the connection with Tulsi, Tolo TV shot spots with Smriti Irani and other key characters addressing viewers in Dari. A huge hit with the audience, these features left the dubbing team feeling disappointed. “They left for Bombay to shoot without telling us, we wanted to send some messages with them,” says Horiya. Adds Farida, “Please mention this in your article. Tell Tulsi ji, Mihir ji and everyone else in the Virani family that we in Afghanistan send them our saalam.”