Despite weak storylines, Mira Sethi’s short fiction offers an engaging glimpse of urban Pakistan

Mira Sethi became a household name during Ramzan in 2021 after playing an important character in the hit serial Chupke Chupke, which trended all month long on Youtube and social media channels. The serial garnered praise not just from Pakistan but from all over the subcontinent. Sethi, though, is a woman who wears many hats. Not just a popular actor, she used to be Books Editor at The Wall Street Journal and has also contributed to The Daily Beast and The New York Times.

Her debut literary work, Are You Enjoying? is billed as a short story collection, but reads more like a series of loosely connected vignettes. In that vein, it reminded me Of Necessity and Wanting by Sascha Akhtar, another recent debut by a Pakistani writer. Both collections feature standalone short stories set in contemporary urban Pakistan, where the lives of the characters from different stories intersect and, at times, serve as narrative props for the storylines.

The personal...

In “Mini Apple”, Javed, a prolific celebrity and TV host has a dalliance with an American bureaucrat who lives in the same neighbourhood, informally referred to as the Diplomatic Enclave. Javed is “reassured by an American presence across the road” which is a mocking commentary on the discrepancy between the level of security provided to a mere local and an American in Pakistan.

He ruminates about the future of their improbable relationship, speculating that if he were killed by terrorists, Marianne would most likely start a fund in his name, propelled as she would be by “a very American guilt.” While the imperious Javed, who is freshly divorced, is intent on turning a new page with Marianne, she on the other hand enjoys her peripatetic lifestyle and is reluctant to be tied down. The story ends on an open-ended, albeit tepid note, which neither gives the readers closure nor leaves them on tenterhooks.

Unfortunately, the eponymous short story seems to be the weakest of the lot which is, again, about an unfortunate dalliance between an almost-rich heiress and a married former squash superstar, which lacks any sort of narrative hook.

“Breezy Blessings” is the most entertaining and authentic story from the lot, quite possibly because the writer herself is familiar with the going-ons in showbiz and is able to give us rare behind the scenes glimpses. It revolves around Mehak, a naive, wide-eyed aspiring actress who gets a rude awakening on the sets of her first big role after catching the fancy of her overbearing, ill-intentioned director who could very well jeopardise her budding career if he is given the brush-off.

This story vividly depicts a vapid, image-conscious entertainment industry which places too heavy an emphasis on appearances, both on screen and on social media. The latter fact comes in handy for Mehak at the climax where she is advised to go for an Instagram live with her tear-streaked face to cash in on her (very real) misery.

Mehak inadvertently catches a crew member red-handed in a compromising situation, and this person proves to be her sole ally in a toxic workplace. Sethi comically etches out the airs of senior artists who convey their displeasure or approval to the crew merely with a “hmmm”. She writes drolly about a character who wonders if she will be lucky enough to get a scene where her character is slapped hard, for it is common knowledge that slaps equal ratings.

... And the political

“A Life of Its Own” is about a newly wedded couple, Farah and Kashif, who are compelled to stall theire plans of advancing their careers after settling in the US. They have to stay in Pakistan since Kashif, as the only son, has to stay with his ageing parents. For inexplicable reasons, this story is divided into two parts that impede its momentum, which is a real shame since the premise was truly unique.

ZB, entrusted to further her husband’s political legacy by facilitating his election campaign is brought to the realisation by her son and daughter in law that this could be an opportunity for her to embark on a promising political career of her own. This story is partially set in rural Pakistan and highlights day-to-day injustices like unequal division of labour between genders, lack of basic health facilities, and a gaping class divide. In many ways it is the best etched out story of this collection. It features slyly comical elements like attempts by ZB to pander to foreigners by mentioning “many fond memories of the Raj”, much to their perplexity.

Familiar perspectives are regurgitated in “A Man For His Time” which is about a young man who is a victim of his circumstances and is being radicalised, but the process is too trite to be entirely plausible and seems to borrow heavily from Moth Smoke, The Runaways, and other novels by subcontinental writers who have written on the subject. Sethi brings no new insight to this time-worn theme which seems to be a clear favourite for desi writers.

The saving grace of this story is the complex relationship dynamic Hafeez shares with his father, whose epilepsy has rendered him useless. With great nuance, Sethi brings to life Hafeez’s conflicting emotions about his father. Hafeez harbours considerable pent-up angst against a father who is now helpless about his own condition but was always a burden on the household. When Hafeez was only 15, his father was laid off from his job and has since then refused to seek work. “How could Hafeez have mercy in his heart for a man who’d transferred, overnight, every burden to his wife?”

In “Tomboy”, the protagonists Aasha and Zarrar are childhood friends who remain closeted from their families and eventually marry each other. The shackles of marriage become a sanctuary for both of them as their marriage of convenience lets them be themselves, whatever that might be, in a traditional society.

The irony here is of course how conforming to the norms set them free from the endless inquisitiveness of society. This story shrewdly underscores the inherited burden of being a daughter in a subcontinental household. Asha’s mother would refer to her three daughters as “ I have not one, not two, but three of you”, as if they were “benign tumours that had to be removed in order for her to be at peace.”

Sethi is at her strongest with mordant social commentary on the pill-popping, insipid lives of the rich and the famous, tearing down their glamorous facades. An overarching theme of the book seems to be individuals rebelling against the societal status quo in their own small ways. The book treads familiar ground but is spiked with a brand of trenchant humor. Laced with biting wit and quotidian details, this collection does end up drawing attention to social ills like discrimination based on class, religion and gender.

Are You Enjoying?, Mira Sethi, Bloomsbury.