rust Saba Qamar to choose a script that transcends the typical drama-industry formula. Muamma, directed by Shaqielle Khan under the banner of Momina Duraid Productions, is masterfully penned by Imran Nazir. Any preconceived notions one brings while tuning into a Pakistani drama are dismantled, scene by scene. There is no villainous mother-in-law versus daughter-in-law trope; no overt tragedy; no explicit trauma; and no reliance on exaggerated expression or heightened emotions. If that is what a viewer is seeking, it may be best to switch to a different show.

Muamma, literally a riddle or puzzle, is an apt title. However, the play is not your conventional psychological thriller either. The viewing demands patience; it asks viewers to sit with the discomfort of uncertainty and refrain from premature conjecture. It refuses to follow a familiar formula. Without relying on abrupt plot twists, the narrative unfolds quietly, yet manages to keep the audience on edge. In both writing and direction, it feels like a master-class.

The show follows the story of Jehanara, a landlady portrayed by Saba Qamar and the lives of her tenants. In the first five episodes, the tenant couple, Zeeshan and Zara, played by Nabeel Zuberi and Mahnoor Malik, move out. They are replaced by, Junaid and Maira, portrayed by Ali Ansari and Anoushay Abbasi. The cast also includes Usman Mukhtar and Syed Jibran but the viewers are yet to see a substantial scene involving the two.

Jehanara keeps a watchful eye on everyone around her - her house help and her tenants, current as well as previous ones. To that end, she has set up a concealed room fitted with cameras, allowing her to observe every movement and interaction. She lives by herself, unaccompanied by a close family member, a fact she uses to her advantage. She is rumored to rent out portions of her house to newly married couples, only for those marriages to inexplicably culminate in divorce.

Any preconceived notions one brings to a Pakistani drama are… dismantled, scene by scene.

Saba Qamar delivers a flawless performance. She inhabits the character mind, body and soul, emerging as an embodiment of restrained femininity. Her on-screen presence is not dependent on dialogue. Instead, it is revealed in the silences, where the audience are held captive to her expressions, particularly her eyes. One scene stands out: as she walks out of a hospital room and comes face to face with her parents. Not a single word is exchanged, yet the subtle shift in Qamar’s expression is remarkable.

The supporting cast also performs exceptionally well. Nimra Shahid deserves special mention. She is blessed with expressive eyes and uses them to powerful effect. She plays Jehanara’s house help - fiercely loyal, until a fleeting moment of weakness leads her to succumb to curiosity and enter Jehanara’s secret room.

The story steps away from familiar domestic conflicts. As a long-time viewer of Pakistani dramas knows, many shows begin with immense promise only to falter in the second half. With Muamma, one hopes for a different fate. Given the industry’s track record, the drama could still land on either side of the spectrum; it may follow the familiar downward spiral, or, by remaining experimental, continue to hold the audience’s attention through sheer intrigue. Conversely, there is also the risk of it being stretched unnecessarily and slipping into incoherence as it approaches its latter half.

The first ten episodes have kept viewers guessing and on edge. Jehanara is an undeniably intriguing character, but can suspense alone sustain interest? With nearly a quarter of the series gone, viewers are still unaware of what drives the protagonist’s behaviour. Perhaps it is time for the narrative to lean more heavily on flashbacks and reveal her backstory.

The play deviates from conventional domestic and societal narratives, adding welcome variety to the audience’s viewing palette. Given Saba Qamar’s body of work, there may be a lot more beneath the surface. We are seated!

The writer is based in Karachi. She can be reached at [email protected]