Beyond Tanhaiyaan: Asif Raza Mir’s refusal to live in the past is the secret to his success
For many, Asif Raza Mir will always be Zain.
The rom-com dream called Tanhaiyaan, spun by Haseena Moin back in the ‘80s, is so colossally popular that even now, many decades later, people remember the characters, the jokes, the love story. And they certainly remember Zain, the light-eyed hero who swept the nation away with his wisecracks and subtle romance. Steadfast, loyal, and upright; Asif Raza Mir’s Zain was the poster boy for all romantic heroes to follow later in the desi drama-scape.
Even for me — who has seen him in so many more dramas since then, playing the sleazeball villain, the doting father, the man burdened with the crimes of his past — he is still Zain. The older, present-day me is excited to be sitting with him today — he is a veteran actor with immense experience and knowledge, and he rarely agrees to interviews — without any caveats. Somewhere, back in time, I imagine a much younger version of myself to be staring out at the future, starry-eyed at the notion that I would one day meet this much-loved hero.
I tell him this. He nods, with a knowing smile — he’s heard this before.
“I think that for many, I will always be Zain. I still get called by that name sometimes,” he says. “Tanhaiyaan became so famous that, around that time, many people named their children Zain and Zara. Interestingly, a whole generation saw the drama and then, when they had children, they made them see the drama too. I often encounter even younger people who have seen Tanhaiyaan.”
Memory lane
But Zain represents merely an iota of his illustrious career. “Of course, I like it when people remember a character that I played so long ago, but I have always been very focused on what I am doing today,” says Asif. “I have come across many people who live in the past and complain about the present. I don’t ever want to be like that. If you keep thinking about the past, the present won’t bear with you, and you won’t have any future. When I talk to people, I want to talk about the present, rather than what I did in the past.”
He makes these observations with the wisdom of a stalwart who has seen the ebb and flow of Pakistani entertainment, who debuted at the age of 17 and, since then, has seen Titans rise to stardom and fade into oblivion.
He was a bona fide superstar long before Twitter trends existed, dabbled with drama production when private channels were still in their fledgling years, innovated in the advertising field and went on to become a major linchpin for three seasons of a popular international series. He was once a national heartthrob and, today, he is a senior actor associated with roles that are always impactful.
A conversation with him is like taking a walk down memory lane, hearing the anecdotes, learning from the experiences, with the path eventually leading to the present. He reflects on his journey: “I debuted at the age of 17 in a movie called Playboy, even though I wasn’t the playboy in it.”
This waylays my focus a bit: were you ever a playboy? I interject.
“Always,” he grins, “but there was no social media at that time, thank God!”
We return to the topic at hand: “When you start working from such a young age, you see a lot. I saw technology changing, the film industry and PTV’s downfall, the emergence of private channels and, then, their growth. I saw directors and producers from the PTV days, making tall claims and, eventually, fading away from memory. When changes take place, a lot of people get frantic about what will happen next, but I have always simply moved with the time, evolving accordingly. It is important to always stay relevant.”
And yet, at one point, back when he was still playing male lead characters, he had opted to move away to Canada, making his return to the screen only after 10 years. Did he not fear that he would become irrelevant in the Pakistani entertainment industry during this long break? He shrugs.
“At that time, I had seen a lot of success. The sort of success where roads would be empty when Tanhaiyaan would air and no weddings would be scheduled for that day. I didn’t feel this pressure to keep doing more work, no matter what.”
Did the success ever go to his head? He smiles. “That was never an option in my home. My father [film director Raza Mir] was a much bigger name than I was at that time. He always stuck to his principles and refused to make copies of other hit movies, which is why, at times, he suffered losses. However, he was immensely respected and lived under his roof. It never occurred to me that success could go to my head. Once something did well, my focus would always be on what I would do next.”
Does this hold true for his sons, too — Ahad, as one of Pakistan’s most-loved leading men, and Adnan, with his career in its initial phases right now? “Absolutely.”
It was while he was still an ‘it’ hero that he diversified towards advertising, becoming the co-owner (with actress Uzma Gilani) of advertising and production company, Blazon. “We innovated a lot,” he says. “We were one of the very first companies to computerise our art department. We worked on a number of projects, including the show Gold Leaf Rhythm Whythm, where some of Pakistan’s very first music videos were aired. Back then, Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan was still alive and we created videos for him. Then, after about 10 years, the company wrapped up, and I left for Canada.”
He continues: “About two years after returning to Pakistan, I launched a production company called A&B Entertainment with a gentleman by the name of Babar Javed.” I nod in recognition — though no longer functional, A&B had helmed a range of hit dramas during its run. “We were giving a new direction to the business of drama-making, creating content for different channels, launching new actors and working with diverse content. I feel proud of all that we achieved back then.”
About five years later, A&B called it a day and Asif left Pakistan to shoot for Sky Atlantic’s Gangs of London. “I was abroad for three years and we filmed three seasons,” he says. “Since then, I have been in Pakistan, choosing roles that excite me and allow me to break away from characters that I have played earlier.”
Meem Se Mohabbat
We come back to the present and his most recent acting role: playing father to Ahad’s character in the hit drama Meem Se Mohabbat (MSM). What attracted him to the role?
“I found it interesting, although, if you consider the script, my character didn’t have a lot to say,” he says. “That’s actually what drew me towards playing it. Usually, in dramas, there is a lot of dialogue but, in Meem Se Mohabbat, I didn’t have to do or say much. That was the challenge. My character was very true to real life. When your children grow up, sometimes you have to let them learn from their own mistakes even when you know that they are doing something wrong. That’s what my character did, he waited for his son to realise his mistakes.
“Also, of course, the drama gave me the opportunity for Ahad and me to work together for the first time.”
Did Ahad’s way of working remind him of how he once used to be? “No, I think that he and I both have our different styles,” says Asif. “I was not a trained actor and learnt the ropes over some time. Ahad always wanted to act and he has studied acting. Also, the demands of a role are very different, now and then.”
He continues, “I appreciate Ahad’s performances and I think so does everybody else. He works very hard and is extremely passionate about acting.”
Does he watch both his sons’ work? “In bits and pieces,” he says. “Their mother is the real critic in our house. She scrutinises their work — and mine, too — gives us feedback and can be quite brutal.”
She’s also your perpetual cheerleader, I comment, having observed Samra Asif Mir’s very active Instagram account celebrating her family’s various projects. “Yes, she’s our most honest critic,” he smiles.
I commented that Ahad had once told me that he would like to play Zain should Tanhaiyaan ever get remade. “Yes, that could be a good idea,” he says. “But so many other characters will also have to be cast. The drama had an entire ensemble of characters who became memorable.”
The international landscape
One similarity in both Asif and Ahad’s career trajectories is that both actors have spread their wings internationally. He observes, “Yes, and this is a message that I would like to give to all actors in Pakistan, young and old: go abroad, find an agent and try to do work there. There are so many stories that are now being told, intrinsic to particular regions and there is a demand for good, authentic actors. It doesn’t matter if it is a small role. You don’t need to be very fluent in English or speak with an accent. All that’s needed is a sincere performance.”
He adds, “It’s not easy at all. There may also be some prejudices, although people are generally welcoming. It’s worth a try. You learn so much and gain so many experiences. It humbles you. You take a lot for granted when you are on home ground, and abroad you have to make a lot of effort because you are part of something that the whole world will see. You jump into this ocean and realise that all that you have been doing so far has been very limited.”
Gangs of London came to him quite late in his career. Did he still learn a lot while working in the series? Asif nods.
“Certainly. The West’s way of working is very different from how we function in Pakistan. Our expressions are generally loud. We laugh loudly, cry loudly. They require more low-key, subtle performances. It takes some time to understand this.”
He continues: “Their way of working is also very different. Everyone is extremely focused and is solely there to work. It would be considered criminal if an actor picked up his or her cell phone and started filming an Insta Story video on set. Permission is required from the production to do this.
“Also, everyone is on time. The car is waiting to pick you up and you reach the set according to your call time, get into costume and the camera rolls. It’s all extremely organised.”
There’s more: “No actor is going to halt the production by announcing that he or she has signed on to an ad and won’t be available for the next two days,” he says. “That isn’t possible. Once you have committed your dates, you have to be there.”
As opposed to here, where actors take unannounced breaks because a lucrative commercial has come up and no one reaches the set at the pre-decided call time? He shrugs. “I am not criticising because it isn’t my job to do so. I will be there on set, at the time and date given to me. If others don’t arrive on time, I don’t consider that I am waiting — I am just doing my job and I am being paid to do it. If they want to utilise me while I am on set, that’s great. If not, that’s even better.”
He adds, “There are times when the production tells me to stay at home and that they will tell me to come once they are ready to roll.”
That’s good, right?
“Well, not from the production point-of-view,” he points out. “As someone who has also been a producer, I feel bad for them when a shoot which was supposed to conclude in 10 days, takes up 28 days instead.”
Main Manto Nahin Hoon
He will next be seen in Six Sigma Entertainment’s much-awaited drama Main Manto Nahin Hoon, directed by Nadeem Baig and written by Khalil-ur-Rehman Qamar, with Humayun Saeed and Sajal Aly in lead roles.
“It’s a very interesting story and it was a pleasure working with Nadeem Baig,” he says. “The story is set in androon [inner city]Lahore and the writer has created an entire world of his own. It’s interesting and I am curious to see how the audience will respond to it. There will be a lot of material to enjoy in the drama other than the script.”
This statement makes me curious — perhaps we’ll know what is so particularly enjoyable once the drama airs. We turn our attention to one particular aspect of the drama which is bound to be discussed at length: he plays the on-screen father-in-law to his ex-daughter-in-law Sajal Aly. Did he have any apprehensions about this?
“No,” he says. “I was asked about this when the casting was getting finalised and I felt that it didn’t matter. There is no animosity between us and we are both working as actors. Perhaps it required some courage on her part as well as mine but, ultimately, life goes on and we are mature people capable of working together if required.”
He pauses. “I think people need to understand this too. We are all human and, sometimes, human relationships don’t last. Life goes on and people don’t need to keep pining over the past.”
Does the media scrutiny over his family perturb him particularly when it comes to this aspect? “It is inevitable. I would have been surprised if people had not been so curious [about Sajal and Ahad’s relationship]. My family and I don’t pay much attention to the social media gossip and the reels on Instagram that still keep coming. It’s very immature.”
We move to a less personal topic: aside from acting, he also owns a company that ‘doctors’ scripts. Is the concept of finalising a drama script before a shoot starts off, becoming popular in Pakistan? “We are trying,” he smiles. “We are, at this point, working on scripts written by Pakistani writers for projects being shot in different parts of the world. Our work involves editing the script and proposing changes that we feel will update it according to the tastes of today’s audience.”
Pakistani TV drama scripts, I have often heard, are replete with loopholes that often the director and actors try to correct during shooting. He nods. “Yes, and that’s what we want to avoid. Work should be done on the script beforehand, tailoring it to the audience’s taste rather than the writer’s or the actors’ ego. It’s something that I observed while working abroad — the script would always be complete, ready to be filmed.”
Even after having wandered through far more efficient and lucrative foreign pastures, he continues to work in Pakistan. Is it always essential to stay connected with the home ground, even though the international landscape may have its attractions?
“Absolutely,” he says. “I have never had any doubts about this: I am who I am today because of my country. I may seek work abroad but I will always also want to continue working in Pakistan. What makes me particularly proud is that, even though my sons grew up abroad, they have also chosen to return to Pakistan to work. They realised that they needed to be close to their roots.”
On that patriotic note, we wrap up. “I am glad you got to meet someone you once knew as Zain,” he makes a passing remark, his eyes twinkling, intelligently, perceptively, the way they did all those many years ago in Tanhaiyaan.
Oh, but there is so much more to Asif Raza Mir than merely Zain.
Originally published in Dawn ICON on May 18.
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