After two semi-finals and a grand finale, Pakistan’s Got Talent brought its first season to an emotional close.
What happens when a reality show tries to convince you that everyone who steps onto its stage is already a winner? It does so by showcasing how every contestant has a story to tell and a talent to share. By the time Pakistan’s Got Talent reached its final two episodes, that mix of talent, ambition and emotion had become almost as interesting as the competition itself.
The two semi-finals and the grand finale gave us exactly what the Got Talent franchise promises: mentalism, beatboxing, rap, magic, comedy, high-stakes drama and enough dramatic camera pans to make viewers dizzy.
The show did make one thing clear: talent in Pakistan is raw and doesn’t fit neatly into a box and more importantly, it doesn’t need to. Anyone can try their luck in a format like this as the franchise finds its footing.
Pakistan’s Got Talent finds its first winner (and a whole lot of feelings)
The first semi-final started with Yasir’s mentalism act, which ended with a twist when superstar Humayun Saeed made a surprise appearance. The rest of the lineup brought variety: Hammad brought technical skill with his beatboxing and rap, Shoaib Armaan brought illusions, Fawad Alam delivered music, Fiction came through with rap and 360 Degree brought pure rock energy.
The most refreshing moments, though, weren’t the loudest ones, but the rare instances of judges actually disagreeing. Take Ali Zafar’s critique of Hammad. Instead of generic praise, Zafar admitted he’d preferred Hammad’s first audition because it had more heart, even though this performance was technically superior.
Shoaib’s illusion act produced a similar spark, with Tabish Hashmi crowning him the best illusionist on the show, while Zafar bluntly said he was “honestly not impressed.”
Moments like these reminded everyone that judges are supposed to judge and that disagreement tells the audience more about their standards than consensus ever could.
By the second semi-final, the show leaned even further into spectacle. Faraz and Mintu kicked things
off with comedy, followed by the young singer-tabla duo Shaheer and Furqan. Then came Munawwar’s world-record-attempting magic, John’s dramatic group performance, Athar Magic’s prediction act and the gen-uinely terrifying physical feats of the Mastan Group.
Faraz and Mintu carried their segment purely on vibes and comic chemistry. Shaheer and Furqan worked better because their act had real substance. Shaheer’s emotional shout-out to his late father, combined with his teacher joining him on stage, gave the moment weight and the judges rightly noted how effortlessly the duo handled a genuinely difficult song.
Munawwar’s act pushed the show’s sense of scale into overdrive. The standing world record was 25 tricks in three minutes, so he prepped 50 to guarantee he’d smash it. The result was a bit of a blur. Some tricks landed, others fizzled and by the end nobody was quite sure if the record had actually been broken. While you have to respect the ambition, throwing that many tricks at the audience made the act harder to follow, while the judges largely focused on its scale.
Athar Magic’s prediction act, by contrast, was one of the more neatly sequenced moments of the night, smoothly guiding a randomly selected card through several stages of prediction. And when the Mastan Group closed with a dangerous stunt involving ice and bricks, Mehwish Hayat delivered one of the more useful critiques, openly admitting the act felt “a little weak” compared to what she knew they were capable of. That kind of specific, honest feedback, though, was less common than the more enthusiastic encouragement that defined much of the season. More often, the season’s real refrain was contestants being told that “Pakistan will vote for you,” and “you’re going straight to the top.”
The finale opened with judge Ali Zafar performing ‘Jane Na Koi’, while the rest of the judging panel clapped and cheered him on. Then it moved into the competitive performances, with 360 Degree opening with an-other high-energy set, revealing they already had five original tracks ready to go, trophy or no trophy.
Fawad Alam became the emotional centre of the finale, but his appeal went beyond the story surrounding him. His vocal control and ability to carry a song gave the competition one of its clearest musical highlights. His performance wasn’t treated as a technical vocal exam but as a raw expression of who he is and his growth over the course of the season had made a strong case for his place at the centre of the finale. Fawad’s mother, who was in the audience, spoke about how he had never let his disability (blindness) hold him back.
The rest of the finalists brought their own strengths. Shaheer and Furqan combined musicality with emotion, Faraz and Mintu relied on comic chemistry, Arman Shoaib delivered clean magic and Munawwar went all-in on spectacle. Instead of one specific style taking over, the show’s willingness to embrace all kinds of performers became its biggest strength. Munawwar Hussain, in particular, checked the ultimate grand-finale box with a water-torture escape involving chains, handcuffs, keys, a massive tank and a ticking clock. When he burst out after holding his breath for 2 minutes and 34 seconds, the applause felt deserved.
Then came the nerve-racking voting breakdown. The finalists were slowly whittled down until it was just Fawad Alam (the singer) and Faraz (the ventriloquist) left standing. With 337,000 votes, Fawad Alam was crowned the first-ever winner of Pakistan’s Got Talent and the joy in the room felt right.
The post-win moments were sweet, his mother celebrating alongside the judges, Ali Zafar promising him an electric guitar and the sponsor presen-ting him with a new car.
Was it sentimental? Yes, at times almost too much so. But it was sincere and that sincerity is what kept the finale from feeling like a rehearsed loop of applause and dramatic background score.
The debut season had its share of rough edges, with repetitive judging and frequent voting reminders chief among them, but it still delivered what a Got Talent finale is supposed to: a deserving winner, a real platform for its finalists and a promising, if imperfect, first step for the franchise. There was also something encouraging in watching the show find its rhythm while giving its performers room to make the stage their own. It may not have gotten everything right, but it made a case for what this format can offer when the focus stays on the contestants behind the performances.
“The finalists were slowly whittled down until it was just Fawad Alam
(the singer) and Faraz (the ventriloquist) left standing. With 337,000 votes, Fawad Alam was crowned the first-ever winner of Pakistan’s Got Talent and the joy in the room felt right. The post-win moments were sweet, his mother celebrating alongside the judges, Ali Zafar promising him an electric guitar and the sponsor presenting him with a new car. Was it sentimental? Yes, at times almost too much so. But it was sincere and that sincerity is what kept the finale from feeling like a rehearsed loop of applause and dramatic background score. The debut season had its share of rough edges, but it still delivered what a Got Talent finale is
supposed to: a deserving winner, a real platform for its finalists and a promising, if imperfect, first step for the franchise.”