At a time when everyone is crying Indian invasion and condemning video as a cultural anathema, Omar Sharif has become Pakistan’s first video-friendly star-his video plays giving even the latest Amitabh Bachchan starrer a run for its money, not only in Pakistan but on the entire worldwide Indo-Pak video circuit.

And now just as everyone seemed to be predicting final doom for the Pakistan film industry, Omar Sharif has made cinema-going less of a social taboo for family audiences with his two phenomenal hits, ‘Mr.420’ and ‘Mr.Charlie.’As ferociously outspoken and passionate as a crusader out to reform the world, Omar Sharif takes out precious time from his dozens of film shootings, stage performances, and international tours to speak his heart and mind to the ‘Herald’. An interview with a serious message from Omar Sharif…

Is Omar Sharif your real name?
My parents gave me the name Mohammad Omar at birth. Then in 1972, when I first joined the theatre world at the age of 14, I changed my name to Omar Zarif, after my favourite artiste Munawwar Zarif. This is something I’ve never told anyone in an interview before. When Munawwar Zarif’s brother passed away and Munawwar Zarif himself died in 1976, I became superstitious about keeping on the Zarif family name.

So I decided to take the name Omar Sharif, since in those days, Omar Sharif, the Hollywood star, was at the height of his popularity. Sometimes names prove to be really lucky and, in my case, this name suited me very well.I strongly believe in the stars and am quite adept myself in the science of astrology, numerology, palmistry, handwriting analysis and so forth. I know much-that my name represents the number nine, and nine is a very strong and unbreakable number.

You added Sharif to your name, but as a comedian isn’t it more important to be ‘sharir’ that ‘sharif’?
(Laughs) I didn’t add Sharif to my name so people would trust me more and say Omar is a ‘sharif’ man. There are many famous people in our country who are Sharif and aren’t all that sharif! A comedian by his very nature is sharer, but is forced to become sharif. I, by the grace of God, have both these qualities in my nature.

What were you like as a kid? Were you the naughtiest boy in you class or mohalla?
Well this incident should tell you everything about my youth. We used to live in an odd Hindu-period building on Nishtar Road, and it was believed that this building was haunted. Our neighbours had about 11 or 12 kids, and knowing everyone was scared of ghosts. I used to love dressing up as say a witch or ‘jin’. Often, I’d wrap myself black clothes at night and scare the living daylights out of my mohalla-wallas.

One night I went into our neighbour’s house, dressed as a ‘jin’, and crept up behind one of the girls who had her younger sisters in her lap. She screamed when she saw me, jumped up and dropped her younger sister in the process. The little girl hurt her head and fainted. She was taken immediately to Anklesaria hospital where they declared that if she didn’t regain conciousness within 24 hours, she’d go mad!. Her father had an FIR registered in the thana.

There was a huge uproar in the mohalla. The situation developed into a bizarre drama and I ran away to my sister’s house in Liaquatabad. Anyway, the girl regained conscious after a couple of hours but she insisted she had seen a jin.

Now, this girl studied at Fatima Jinnah Girls School and her teachers came to visit her, when they found out what had happened. They were planning their annual school function, and needed someone to play the part of a ‘jin’ for a ‘pariyon ka drama’.

They were so fascinated by my having convinced this girl that I was real jin that they offered me the role in the play. And so that was my how I made an entry into the world of theatre. I guess this tells you how shaitaan I was! I had such sharp tongue that even the ‘hijras’ would be terrified of me. They’d go to the extent of checking to see whether in or not before daring to enter our building.

Even now I’m remembered in the area and treated with great fondness by everyone whenever I go there.
I tell you it’s always the naughtiest children who grow up to be the most successful and confident people.

Kids who grow up completely ‘sharif’, going to the mosque regularly, always wearing a crisp, clean pajama kurta, not talking to anyone in the neighbourhood, are the ones who turn out all wrong. And I’ve seen this in my own personal experience.There was a kid in our neighbourhood from a ‘lakhpati’ family. He had a beautiful face and all he did was go to school, come back from school, go to the mosque and then straight to his house.

Twenty years later, I saw this boy in the thana booked for a dacoity case. Just imagine! Street-wise, naughty kids learn to look after themselves at an early age, and then by the time they grow up, they take it upon themselves to prove to the world that they aren’t complete failures.
Unofficially, you made your debut as a jin, terrifying everyone in the building.

What was your first real theatre experience?
Well, I officially entered the world of theatre by writing my own play back in 1972.It was a Toli drama, performed at Adamjee Hall. Between then and now, I’ve written around 50 stage plays, of which some are available on video and have been released around the world. And they’ve all been hits!

You didn’t have any formal training in this field…?
Let me tell you, this work I’m doing, you can’t learn it from anyone. It’s all personal creativity. Stand up comedy has no teachers or institution. My own childhood experiences were the most important for this field particularly my sense of observation.

When I started writing plays, I knew exactly what mohalla life was all about, what high society was, how middle class people lived, what a badmaash was, who was sharif. Observation is vital, and only a sharp witted and intelligent person has this capability. One’s memory has to be like a computer. It’s a God-given gift.

When was your first real taste of success?
As a writer, my first real success was a play called ‘Bionic Servant’ which I wrote in 1979. As an actor I clicked with ‘Behroopia Moeen Akhtar’ which I wrote in1980.Though the title role belonged to Moeen Akhtar, my character was a huge success with the commercial theatre audience.

Why didn’t you ever lend your talents to television?
Television is one medium that has suffered from a class problem right from the beginning. It is crawling with opportunists. And above these opportunities are the bureaucrats. Now, all my life I have been at the odds with these two groups. I don’t think very highly of opportunities or bureaucrats. I believe that people should be judged solely on merit. These people give more importance to personal relationships and alliances. Secondly, in our country grouping exists at every level. The same is true for television.

I just didn’t have a group who’d support me in television. So I never got a proper response from TV, which upset me a lot. As a result of this, in 1985, I released my first drama on video so that I could reach a wider audience.

The play was “Yes Sir Eid, No Sir Eid”. It was moderately successful. Then came “Baqra Qiston Pe”. Now this was the turning point of my life. The play was a smashing success all over the world, wherever Indian and Pakistani communities exist. It was also the first play in the history of Indo-Pak theatre to become a stage series. Baqra Qiston Pe was followed by parts2 and 3 and part4, which is awaiting release. Alongside the stage plays, I released 25 volumes of the “Omar Sharif Show” on audio cassette.

I think I’m the first performer in Pakistan to have had such a wide impact without using television or any official media. And that time the very concept of reaching out to a national audience without the help of television was laughable.In those years, the VCR craze was just beginning, and I realised that this is one medium which could easily be tapped, without any red tape or hassle. Once established myself through video, I decided to tour the entire world with my plays.

I even went to India, and much to my surprise, discovered that even Amitabh Bachchan and Dilip Kumar weren’t as popular in Pakistan as my plays were in India. I signed about ten movies in Bombay, but then this Bal Thackeray-Shiv Sena controversy erupted and put a stop to everything.

What do you think is in your plays, your brand of comedy or your persona, that makes them ‘dewana’ of you?
The public wants entertainment. People want to laugh. There’s so much frustration in Pakistan and in India too. My plan succeeded because they offer clean, family entertainment.

They have amusing one-liners, dialogues, and situations. Families can sit together and watch these plays, whether on video or in the theatre. Now, it is these very same families who are watching my films on the large screen. So in a way, I’ve brought families and ladies back to the movie theatres. What I think appeals most to people in my stage plays is that I speak current language.

I say that which is topical and of current interest. The content of my comedies is derived from newspapers. I have a great passion for reading newspapers. Believe it or not, when I sleep at night I am excited in anticipation of reading a newspaper the next morning. I derive great pleasure from the thought that, in the morning with my mug of tea or coffee I will lap up every news item in the paper. Wherever I go, I always carry three or four newspapers with me.

For my personal compulsion as well as my field of work, I feel it is vital to know what’s going on in the world, what people are saying. I write satire, and you’ll see that my plays heavily satirise our official institutions,

the problems acing our youth, trends and fashions, women’s roles, issues of national unity, violence, ’dakoos’. Satire is my subject, so I have to study everything around me.Your own personality and boyish charm also have a lot to do with your appeal, because without them you wouldn’t be getting away with half the stuff that you say and do…

That’s probably true. You see, I don’t act. Talat Hussain acts. Firdaus Jamal acts. They’re actors. I’ve acted in films, but n stage, it’s like I’m directly addressing a live audience, as if I’m saying something to them. I want to let the public know that I’m one of them, and they’re face to face with someone who’s like them.

There’s a certain segment out there that dismisses your brand of theatre as being vulgar and responsibility for distorting the public taste, inhibiting the progress of “serious” theatre. What do you have to say about this?
I’ve been hearing all these things for years. My only answer to this is that if you don’t like it, don’t come to see it. Those who watch serious theatre shouldn’t come to our plays. And those who don’t want to see serious theatre should go to see it.

Performing on stage is like setting up a shop. Our organisers don’t bring in the public at gunpoint. They come of their own will because we offer something of interest for them. And our audience is intelligent. They’re business people, they have families. ‘Koi kaan se roti nahin khata, sare ke sare munh se hi roti khate hein. Now if something is rotten and bad, why

would you spend 200 rupees on it?
It is pure idiocy to say that we have spoilt theatre or ruined public tastes. Where are those who put up so-called good theatre? Why aren’t they performing? The point is that we have not inherited any kind of theatre or theatre audience.

That which exists today is the one we have created ourselves. I’m not seducing my audience by offering them drugs or alcohol to put them in my spell.
Talat Hussain, Rahat Kazmi, Mehmood Ali, Qazi Wajid, Subhani Ba Younus, these are the people who did theatre before.

Why don’t they do theatre anymore? Look at it this way, earlier people used to travel to China on camels to study. Now they go by air. If you tell people that they should go by camel, because otherwise they’ll be breaking with tradition, it would be completely idiotic.We have to move with technology, with the times. Today, sitting in our homes we can see programmes from 50 countries via satellite dish. Now in this day and age, if I say I want to do a ‘naik Perveen’ dram, then this is not possible.

I have to modernize the ‘naik Perveen’ theme.
Whether its that or a drama on Mirza Ghalib or a tableau on something by Iqbal, I have to modernize it-sets, lighting performance, everything. That’s the only way one can present to a modern audience. It’s not just competition within Pakistan one has to consider any longer. One has to lure an audience that has access to programmes from all over the world.

Suppose tomorrow the Ajoka group or Talat Hussain approach you to do a play. Would you agree to do a project with them?
Why not? Talat Hussain doesn’t breathe fire or explode bombs or anything. He’s a fine actor, that’s all. There’s a big difference between all of them and me. I’m a writer, a poet, a film director, a composer, a live comedian, an actor.

I’m simultaneously working in five, six different media.My view is that every one of them should do theatre. Why aren’t they facing the public? Why don’t they say to each other in the lawns of their bunglows? You don’t have theatre in a drawing room or a lawn, you have conspiracies.Theatre is live, performed in front of people who are alive. Dirty politicians, bureaucrats, opportunities all enjoy conspiracies. I don’t partake in conspiracies, just drama. Ours is modern theatre in the true sense of the world.

What do you have to say about the general state of theatres themselves in Karachi? Rio has just been demolished. For a city like Karachi, isn’t there a ridiculous shortage of auditoriums, cinemas, venues of entertainment?
The public loves theatre, but there is absolutely no response at the government level. It refuses to recognize this phenomenon. Even getting permission for a play is a major achievement. As for private parties and builders, it would take a very little effort to build an auditorium in these huge plazas that are coming up all over the place.

Everyone benefits from Karachi, but nobody is giving anything in return. Karachi is like flour cannister. Everyone is taking out the flour. But what happens to the cannister? Whether it rusts away or gathers mould or loses its lid, nobody is bothered. People just want to take and consume. That’s become the dominant mode of thinking. And when people start thinking like that, you can’t buiid a city.

For some time now, you’ve shifted to Lahore and have been regularly performing there. Theatre-wise, why are things so different in Lahore?
The government there is much more interested. Take General Gilani, the former Governor of Punjab, who laid the foundation of Al-Hamra. That venue houses three theatres.

Then the Cultural Complex at Gaddafi has a seating capacity of three thousand. It also has a smaller three-hundred seat hall, provided with government security.There’s the open air theatre on Simla Hill and the Wapda Auditorium. Then finally, Afzal Ahmed has constructed a magnificent theatre, the ‘Tamaseel’. And they’re all playing dramas every night.

In Karachi, the Taj Mahal hall has been broken down, Rio reduced to debris. All buildings in Karachi have become marriage halls! The artists just don’t have the unity to get together and build a hall. The government will have to take these steps.

There’s a certain impression in Karachi that Urdu-speaking artists will not be given a fair deal and kept at a distance in Lahore because of a because of a language barrier. Did you encounter any such prejudice?
This is the propaganda of certain lobbies with vested interests. The love and response I’ve received in the Punjab has been sensational. Only the luckiest people get this much love.

I still basically speak Urdu in my plays, even if everyone else on stage is speaking Punjabi, but now as my Punjabi is improving, I’m slowly doing a few Punjabi plays as well. The Punjab audience is very receptive and has very good sense of humour. In fact, they can take jokes at their expense very well.

Considering you were comfortably doing stage work and earning plenty from it, what let you suddenly write, direct and star in “Mr 420” at a time when making any film, let alone one in Urdu is considered a sure way to commit a financial suicide?
I had worked in a couple of films earlier, notably, “Hasaab” and “Dushmanon Ke Dushman” for Javed Fazil, but had failed to get the right break. On the other hand, people had been watching my video dramas for nearly ten years.

So I had great confidence that if I made own film in my own style, my audience would leave their VCRs at least once and visit the cinema to see what it was that Omar Sharif had come up with.Also, I’d been interested in film making since childhood, and in view of the rapid decline of films, I felt that someone should have the courage to make a solid, entertaining Urdu film.

I took a huge gamble and it paid off.“Mr. 420”, as we know, not only turned out to be a tremendous hit all over Pakistan, but also single-handedly changed the trend of Pakistani film making. All of a sudden, social comedies were back in vogue, and Urdu films which had become almost a dozen Urdu films under production due to the success of Mr 420.

As the smart new kid on the block with a mind very much his own, how did the Lahore film industry initially take you and your film make ideas?
This much I’ll say: a newcomer in the industry has to face immense problems. It’s like trying to spread a new religion. You have to perform a miracle before you’re accepted. But then Mr 420 happened, and everything’s been put behind me.

You’ve gone against the tide and made both your films in Urdu. Has this been done deliberately to promote the Urdu language?
Promoting Urdu was not really the issue. Sure, it was important because Urdu is after all our national language and at the time, barely a single Urdu was being made. But the real fact of the matter is that I could make a film only in Urdu, since that is the language I was comfortable with. Now I’ve become more fluent in Punjabi and plan to make a Punjabi film.

You see, it’s not a matter of promoting one language over the other. What I’m opposed to is double version film. Both Urdu and Punjabi films have their specific contexts and styles. And the audience for each has a different set of expectations.What is happening as a result of double version films is that Pakistani cinema is totally losing out on its Urdu-speaking audience. These double version films are conceived in Punjabi and then dubbed in Urdu.

In the Punjab it works because the films are released in Punjabi, but the Urdu-speaking audience knows that they’re being taken for a ride. And it’s not that Urdu-speaking people will not see a Punjabi film or Punjabis will not watch an Urdu film. Look at the business Punjabi films like “Anwara” and “Maan Putter” did in Karachi all those years ago when there were far fewer Punjabis in the city. People will see a good film, regardless of the language.

But after “Mr. 420” you’ve signed several double version films in Lahore…”
Unfortunately, I was misled into believing that these were being made only in Urdu. It was only later, during dubbing, that I realized they were double version films. Anyhow, now I’ve made a conscious decision not to do any more such films. The film will be either be in Punjabi or Urdu, because in trying to cover both languages at the same time, you just can’t do justice to the role; it kills your expression.

‘Mr. 420’, ‘Mr Charlie’ and "Chand Babu" have some very original and innovative touches in terms of treatment. They’re also very neat productions in areas such as shot framing, editing and music. How do you rate your own direction as against some of the other, more established, directors you’re working with?
I think everyone is doing what they’re capable of doing. Most of our directors are very adept at making formula films. But they are unable to bring any new touches or new concepts to their films.

I’m lucky because I’m not dependant on any writer. I’ve already got the shot and scenario in mind. And while acting in films for others, I improvise a lot and speak extempore where the writer has failed to provide me with adequate material. Both Munawwar Zarif and Lehri did this a lot.

Women seem to relate very well to you, and your films and stage plays have a large female following. In both you films as well, the females have very strong roles. They know how to defend themselves and ask for their rights. What do you think a woman’s role should be in society?
Pakistani women are very talented, but it’s been in the minds our men that women should stay at home, be pampered and remain hidden from the world. I think women should take up jobs, because they have a lot of free time at home.A woman can play a very positive role in society because she has excellent powers of persuasion. If we have an attractive facet to be proud of, it is the women.

Thirty five to 40 per cent of a women’s success is based on the content of what she’s saying or trying to convey, but 60 per cent depends on her own attraction. It’s her power to attract that is the real convincing factor. A woman is like a secret weapon that can be deployed in a very effective manner.

Considering that you’ve been hailed as a trendsetter in Pakistani cinema, what are your views on the prime minister’s sudden orders to ban the use of the Kalashnikov in the films?
Let us make one thing clear. This is not a sudden decision on the part of the government. The industry has been receiving warnings from the government to keep violence in check for some time now. This is a good decision on the part of the prime minister. And I think he is doing a lot of good for the country. This announcement will lead to a positive change in films.

The only problem is that this policy has been implemented very abruptly. Films which have been completed and are awaiting the censor’s verdicts have been badly hit because producers will have to spend extra money on re-shoot the offending sequences. A little grace time should be given, a sort of final warning.The basic idea behind this decision is that films should condemn ‘ghundai bazi’ and not promote it. There is a lobby that is upset about this, and this is the same group of people who have been producing films which carry titles with the names of badmaashes. Films with these kind of titles drive families away from the cinema.

Yes, but these films are also successful. After all, year’s biggest box office hit, ‘Majhoo’. As you said in defence of your own brand of theatre, if someone doesn’t like these films, they should simply stay away.Yes, but Ghunda Gardi isn’t something we should be promoting. The prime minister’s announcement is only affecting those who want to establish this element, not those who want to establish film.

In the past, you’ve openly associated yourself with the MQM, speaking on its behalf and performing for APMSO functions. In your opinion, should an artist remain apolitical or associate him or herself with a particular ideology or movement?
I don’t have an ideology as such. I’m not a political worker. Any Pakistani, regardless of what language he speaks, has my support when he speaks his legitimate rights as a human being, as a Pakistani.

I don’t belong to any specific party or group. Baloch, Sindhi, Pathan, Punjabi, Mohajir if any of these people need me or feel that my support will help them, then as a writer or as an actor if I can play a part to help them, I will. I am there for the suffering masses of Pakistan. I am also a simple Pakistani citizen and I love my country.

Considering your outstanding communication skills and ability to entertain people for hours at a stretch, have you ever considered going into politics yourself?
Could be! There is a possibility. It is in my stars. I am an Aries after all. And Aries have it in them to become leaders, writers, creators. I’m soon planning to publish my own paper called “Stage”. It’ll cover events from all over the world, because every activity and institution has a stage of its own. The paper will be based on the philosophy that, ‘duniya eik stage hai, aur aadmi is ka eik kirdar hai’. I’ll write a regular column for it, giving my views, observations and impressions. It’ll have a message.

What message do you have for those people who have no sense of humour about themselves?
Such people are simply stupid. They will never go far in life. A person who can’t take criticism or laugh on himself knows his shortcomings only too well, but doesn’t want to confront them and better his lot.

What about your own family?
I have two children, a boy and a girl, but only one wife! So according to the family planning programme, I’m doing okay. Unlike politician, I actually practice what I preach.