There are television characters who become popular, and then there are those who become a part of people’s lives. Zaryab, played by Dur-e-Fishan Saleem in Dar e Nijaat, belongs to the latter category.
Television has witnessed such phenomena before. Marina Khan became a household name after Tanhaiyaan, while Mahira Khan achieved a similar place in popular imagination with Humsafar. But Zaryab is different. Unlike the conventional female leads audiences have traditionally embraced, she is flawed, confused and emotionally vulnerable. She struggles with love, faith, self worth and the consequences of a relationship that left her questioning herself.
Consider a recent scene in which Zaryab picks up Abu Bakr’s phone while he is offering prayers. The expression on her face says more than words ever could, revealing a deep-seated fear of being abandoned again. Her previous relationship had left her questioning herself, believing she was too modern, that she had led her former partner towards sin and that she did not belong in his religious worldview. Now, even when happiness seems within reach, she struggles to trust it.
For the first time, Dur-e-Fishan opens up about playing Zaryab, a character who has sparked conversations about love, faith and self-worth. In an exclusive interview with Khaleej Times, the actress reflects on the complexities of her character, the criticism surrounding her choices and what the role has taught her about relationships and healing.
On what women want from love
Success has not made her cynical about romance. It has made her clear. “When a woman is independent and has built a life for herself, she isn’t necessarily looking for someone to complete her. She’s looking for someone with whom she can share the life she’s already built.”
What is hardest to ask for, she says, is softness. “Perhaps the hardest thing to ask for is the freedom to be vulnerable. When you’re perceived as strong, successful or capable, people sometimes forget that you, too, need reassurance, tenderness and a safe space to fall apart.” Her ideal is simple: “The most beautiful kind of love is one where you don’t have to earn gentleness by being strong all the time.”
On the price of being loved
Zaryab’s central tragedy is what she is willing to shrink to keep someone. Dur-e-Fishan sees compromise as unavoidable, but says motive is everything. “The question is whether that compromise comes from a place of understanding or from a fear of losing someone.”
She draws a firm line. “There’s a difference between adjusting your expectations and abandoning your values.” And she names the warning signs: “When you repeatedly silence yourself or question your worth or become someone you don’t recognise just to keep a relationship alive, I think it’s worth asking what you’re really holding on to.” Her own standard is a mirror test. “Love should allow you to evolve, not require you to disappear. You should be able to look at yourself in the mirror and still recognise the person looking back.”
On why the nation is watching
Watch parties in India, debates over Zaryab and Abu Bakr in Middle East offices during working hours: the show has become a conversation, not just a drama. Dur-e-Fishan believes that is the point. “People aren’t just watching Zaryab and Abu Bakr; they’re negotiating their own beliefs about love, pain, healing and what people deserve from one another.”
As for Abu Bakr, often dismissed as too good to be true, she defends the idea of him. “He represents a kind of gentleness that audiences don’t always get to see. People may find him too good to be true, but I don’t think kindness, patience and emotional maturity should be considered unrealistic.”
On moving on
Playing Zaryab has changed how she thinks about the phrase itself. “We use the phrase moving on as though healing means reaching a point where someone no longer matters to us. I’m not sure that’s always true. Sometimes a person changes you and that experience becomes part of your story, even when the person is no longer part of your life.”
Her definition of letting go is gentler than forgetting. “Letting go is less about forgetting someone and more about no longer allowing the experience to define you.” Then comes the line that could sit over the whole drama: “Perhaps healing is learning to look back without wanting to return.”
On Lux, longevity and the industry
She is also the new Lux girl, a title that usually signals a career peak. She refuses to treat it as one. “As much as I am aware of the weight of becoming Lux girl, I have never felt it like a milestone. I think it’s important not to become so consumed by a defining moment that you stop looking forward to what comes next.”
Her plan is restraint. “Success should create possibilities, not pressure. I want to keep challenging myself as an actor, explore characters that make me uncomfortable in the best possible way, and hopefully venture into cinema and other formats when the right opportunities come along.” And then: “I want longevity more than I want to constantly chase the next big moment.”
She is candid about the limits of the system around her. “Television in Pakistan has given us an incredible reach and a very loyal audience, but the opportunities to experiment with different genres, complex characters and alternative storytelling formats are still developing.” Her frustration is specific: “Channels own everything, and the death of independent producers and the dictation by channels is frustrating as an actor for me.” Even so, her ambition is not about format. “It’s not simply to work in cinema or OTT for the sake of it. It’s to find stories that demand something new from me.”
On critics and Zaryab’s choices
Episode by episode reviews have made Zaryab a subject of fierce debate, with some calling her regressive. Dur-e-Fishan welcomes the scrutiny but resists the verdict. In fact, she made it very clear through a long post on her Instagram as well. She explains, “Where it becomes interesting is when one interpretation starts being treated as the only possible interpretation.”
She will not defend Zaryab as flawless, only as human, arguing that the point of a story is often to explore why a person makes the choices she does, even ones some find morally wrong.
What drew her to the role was the aftermath of heartbreak. “With Zaryab, I was interested in the very human reality of what happens when a woman is shattered by someone she loves. She may begin to blame herself, lose sight of her own worth or struggle to recognise the person she has become. That doesn’t mean the story is endorsing her suffering; it may simply be trying to understand it.”
Her closing view on the actor’s job is also the best summary of her performance. “I don’t think an actor’s job is to tell the audience what to think. It’s to bring a character to life honestly enough that people feel compelled to think about her for themselves.”
That is exactly what Zaryab has done, and why Dur-e-Fishan will outlast the moment.
Sadiq Saleem is a UAE based writer & can be contacted on his Instagram handle @sadiqidas.
Source: Khaleej Times