“Mein toh akeli theen ki barabar hoon”
Imagine being incredibly doughty whilst caught in life’s most cataclysmic crossfire and plowing through to victory. Imagine not giving two f**** (pardon my language) about anything, and being so in control with your life and your decisions – now that’s something I think we can all aspire to be half like.
‘Dil Lagi’ is undoubtedly my favorite Pakistani drama
There’s something so delicious about the entire story, it almost seems beguiling. Director Nadeem Baig has crafted something so arresting, it’s hard to pick a singular thing to incessantly admire. You find your heart frolicking around the tiny moments of subtle continuity in scenes, the striking chemistry between the two protagonists, the prolonged gazes and the acute female empowerment from start to end.
Anmol, played by Mehwish Hayat drove me mad, and by mad I mean the good kind of mad
She settled for nothing that was remotely mediocre and grappled each day with the liberating ‘carpe diem’ slogan soaring above her. I’m watching Anmol kick ass and all I can see is her face in Eugene Delacroix’s ‘Liberty Leading the People.’
Her introduction has her chasing down a thief who steals her handbag. A few verbal waves of abuse scattered on the thief’s face, a few beatings smack in the center of a crowd (including a besotted Mohid), and you’re already trying to emulate her in every form. Mohid is the mafia ringleader with a heart, who fixes the mistakes he’s made with Anmol’s family because, well he’s in love with her now. He’ll do anything to have her because he quickly understands that Anmol isn’t your average gal – she’s the face of dominance.
Anmol is the ‘man of the household’ essentially, and when a few questionable men from Karachi’s underworld threaten her family, she becomes beautifully demonic and vengeful, especially in what’s probably one of the most misogynistic and ‘liberally-conflicted’ society in the Eastern hemisphere.
Anmol’s greatest sacrifice comes when she decides to marry Mohid, to rid her mother and sister of harm. It’s incredible – she dictates her terms of the nikkah and Mohid gladly abides – he’s so enamored by her, it’s like he’s in a trance. This entire scene was fantastic, (don’t forget Delacroix’s gem) and Anmol reaches Mohid’s house unabashed.
“Apne beta ko bulayen, uski baraat le ke aayi hoon mein”
Anmol is always head-butting with her mother, who is a far cry from the valiance Anmol holds; she wants her daughter how most mothers want their daughters really – physically and mentally veiled, but it might feel more like being keeled across an empty stage with their puppet strings frayed. At least that’s how Anmol felt.
Anmol falls in love with Mohid’s goodness eventually, and although it was very predictable, I realized just how intelligently whipped up ‘Dil Lagi’ was. It’s showing us that even the strongest of characters love, and want to be loved in return. Someone like Anmol, who seemed like someone lacking pretty much a soul (joking), was in love.
And that’s what I love about her. She’s the same person as she was before – just hopelessly in love. She’s smiling more, she’s letting her guard down and just enough to not make her entirely vulnerable. Yes, she fell for Mohid, but she never allowed her core to be remolded because of it. She showed me you can love a thousand years, and not lose yourself.
