Written by: Ayesha Amir
Posted on: September 06, 2023 | | 中文
May I Have This Seat is a short film written and directed by Tabish Habib, a talented filmmaker hailing from Lahore, Pakistan. One may know him from the crew of Pakistan’s highly celebrated film, Joyland, where he was one of the Associate Producers and the Script Supervisor.
Habib’s road to filmmaking success begins from a short film he made for his graduate thesis, May I Have This Seat, starring Rasti Farooq as Sonia and Aqeel Nasir Khan as Masood. This short film was acclaimed in various prestigious film festivals, such as the Vancouver International South Asian Film Festival, Chicago South Asian Film Festival, Aesthetica Short Film Festival, Chicago South Asian Film Festival and many more.
Despite being 10-minutes long, the narrative of this short film is laced with enough symbolism to leave the audience with numerous interpretations. It is colour graded to look as if smog haunts not only Lahore, but the characters and the story as well, for it serves as a somber backdrop to a similarly sad story.
The film opens to show a young pregnant woman eyeing the road for potential commute. A rikshaw stops for her, but the driver’s depraved gaze causes Sonia to ignore him, after which, she boards a Speed-O bus, and the story begins. As is the dilemma of women in public spaces, Sonia too is not saved from the scrutiny of prying male eyes as she struggles to stand shoulder to shoulder with people in the bus. The camera deliberately shows all men inside the bus, standing or sitting, looking at Sonia with curious expressions and cheeky intentions. As Sonia’s attention lands on a man sitting with a young boy, she seizes on the opportunity to ask to be seated next to that child, saving her the embarrassment of having to stand uncomfortably with men.
Sonia walks up to Masood, where her simple question, “kya mai ye seat le sakti hun?” (may I have this seat?), triggers a series of heated exchanges in the film. This is because the man refuses his seat, and a momentary turbulence of the bus causes Sonia to tumble on to Masood, who instinctively “saves” her. Sonia lashes out against Masood and accuses him of groping her. While everyone else in the bus finds the exchange entertaining and proceed to record the commotion, Sonia too pulls out her phone to shame Masood for his alleged groping, implying the power of social media in this scene.
A shift in the tone of the story occurs when Sonia is suddenly escorted by her college acquaintance Ameera to the ladies’ section, and is momentarily saved. A significant point to note here is why Ameera is referred to as an acquaintance and not a friend, because her quips and remarks to Sonia make the audience aware that Ameera regards Sonia as “bold” and “attention-seeking”.
Habib’s choice to set the film in a bus can be deemed as a clever one, because it encapsulates in its tiny space the milieu of Pakistan’s general societal norms. The predicament of women travelling alone, the perverse male gazes, or the supposed modesty claims of “sharif” men not wanting to do anything with “troublesome” women like Sonia, the obsession of youth to record everything on their phones, as well as people’s perception of gender and sexuality.
The latter part is most visible when Ameera asks where Sonia’s husband is. Upon finding out that she doesn’t have one, Ameera’s apparent discomfort further shows her hidden dislike for Sonia. In addition to that, one could simply not ignore the fact that Ameera finds it better that Sonia was having a baby boy, a long running conundrum in our society of preferring boys are girls. The news of a baby boy is one for rejoicing while the birth of a baby girl remains a sore point in families.
Habib’s subtle insinuation at having made his female lead a single unmarried mother was a brave move, but an important one to show how such women are perceived in our society. He further uses the phone and social media as a backdrop of the narrative, a source of conflict and resolution, both at the same time. This is shown when Masood decides to politely ask Sonia to delete his video, but does not apologize, furthering the tensions between the two characters.
At many instances in the film, the hostile exchange between Sonia and Masood becomes a debating point for the audience, leaving them to ask: which of the two protagonists is in the wrong, Sonia or Masood? The nuanced portrayal of the two leads makes the film realistic. Both the characters seem to realize this about each other at many instances too, for when Masood fights off the men who keep recording Sonia, we see Sonia calm down somewhat. The best part of the story, however, remains when Sonia’s water breaks and Masood, terrified and shocked, moves to cover Sonia’s view of the people with a green cloth.
Habib’s storytelling skills are most visible in this powerful scene, where it goes into slow motion. We only realize that something has gone wrong through Masood’s lens. The sad reality of all the men in the bus jumping to record Sonia in her vulnerable state, the women scurrying to help her, are a bittersweet reminder of what it is like being a woman in a public place in Pakistan. May I Have This Seat is an outstanding short film that delivers a strong message in just ten minutes!
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