Fifteen episodes into the drama, Sanam has strayed far, far beyond the story of a bi-polar patient (as we were initially led to believe) and has simmered down to the usual story of one man, three women and the frustrations of a love quadrangle. Throw in the usual sob stories, intrigues and weepy characters and you have a play that is a fine example of how ridiculous the play really is.
Very briefly then…
 Ayla and Sara key maa baap kahan hain?
The writers of Sanam appear to have reacted to Mann Mayal and the constant references to Jeena’s ‘maa baap’ because in Sanam, we have two equally obsessive women, Ayla and Sara, who appear to have no maa baap or relatives whatsoever. These two ladies have been living alone, creepily stalking their prey (the gutless Harib; we’ll come back to him) and though we did see Ayla’s parents make a brief appearance in earlier episodes, they have been missing in action for several weeks. They obviously don’t give a crap about their emotionally unstable daughter who’s living alone with her ex-husband’s best friend. Okay then.
How did Aan, Harib, Ayla and Sara all manage to get houses right next to each other?
 The logistics of this one are mind-boggling. I mean, okay, so Harib and Aan were initially neighbours. What were the odds of his old flame moving not only in the neighborhood but right next door? And then Ayla finds a place also, next door. They can all look over the little bench in the park where Aan and Harib often exchange obsolete dialogues. That too in the evening, when the dengue risk is at its peak. Okay, so maybe this posh neighborhood is well fumigated.
What era are these guys living in?
How difficult is it for two single and educated and evidently compatible people to acknowledge their interest in each other? It’s tough to imagine what the problem is; it isn’t as if Harib or Aan are married. And considering that Harib is so close to Aan and her mother, why on earth isn’t he disclosing Faran’s dirty little secret to them? The whole heart attack sequence is very eighties and now the director has thrown in a car accident as well. Oh, and remember the doctored picture that got Aan fired and humiliated at work? Everyone seems to have conveniently forgotten about that. Heroine ki izzat gayi and everyone moved on. That’s three run-down formulas in the How to Write a Pakistani Drama for Dummies manual.
