If you were to be informed that 9 crore, i.e. 90 million Indians have watched a particular Pakistani Urdu serial this year and more than half the number includes Indian non-muslims, then I'm sure it will become a STORY from the media point of view. That is exactly why Paul decided to cowrite this with his dear little Ayesha, so that you get to see this from different vantage points. The twain being nearly 21 years and a generation apart. He, born in the 20th century, in the year of the Bhopal Gas tragedy and Indira Gandhi assassination, and she, in the year of the Tsunami. He, having been schooled in a premier Jesuit institution of the city for 15 years and now a public servant in the state secretariat; she, having been in a modest HS school for LIG families, being the youngest of 6 siblings in a so-called "conventional" poor Muslim family. But ever since, "Paul sir" came into her eldest sister Zeba's life as a teacher. Things were never the same. 

This was the first time she was interacting with a non-Muslim adult male on familiar terms and that is exactly what, "familiar" – his parents and siblings – he had become like family with all of them. Was he Hindu? A qafir? Oh, rubbish, on this occasion, it hardly mattered! For a long time, it was hard to imagine AS Paul would be Anindya Sundar Paul ( too hard for Ayesha to pronounce!); Ayesha was expecting something like Abdus Salam Paul, given that his Urdu vocabulary and pronunciation was even more consistent than his eldest sisters and his use of makhraj in Arabic would have made Raja RamMohan Roy proud. She introduced him to her favourite Pakistani serials while he gave her a glimpse of Pakistani pop from times before she was born. He told him how they had brought Pakistani band Strings for Xavotsav the year she was born. Their bond was cemented when Tere Bin the serial started streaming on YouTube. Barring Coke Studio Pakistan nothing shown on Pakistani television had ever been so popular across the border. Ayesha would update Paul sir on the episodes he'd miss due to work while they would exchange notes on Yumna Zaidi and Wahaj Ali's performances. Ayesha had a weakness for Meertasim (Ali's character). He became the ultimate man for this starstruck 18-year-old. Meertasim's sense of honour, responsibility and values made him a moral favourite. The image of the stereotypical 'pardanasheen loving wife' was shattered by the powerful female portrayals in the serial with Yumna returning to her legal practice at the end after her reconciliation with her husband and in-laws. 

The Urdu serial-love affair continues as a new serial now dominates the Paul sir-Ayesha conversations – May Ri – which deals with underage marriage and has compelled Paul sir to think that "our" serials here have progressively deteriorated from the age of HumLog, Rajani and Buniyad to the Saas-Bahu-Kundali era or from Sonex/Jochhan Dastidar to the present Jalsha/Zee Bangla era. But Urdu serials from across the border have been quite refreshing, even with all the limitations and studio stereotypes. 

One caveat from Paul sir for Ayesha to conclude the identity and perception debate with an open ending – East Pakistan had 55% of the total Pakistan population at the time of partition. So, had Bangla been chosen over Urdu as the state language of Pakistan, there wouldn't be a Bhasha Andolan or a subsequent MuktiJuddho and instead of Urdu being looked upon as a "Muslim" language or a language of the neighbouring enemy, perhaps it would have been Bangla and Bengalis who would have suffered the backlash and maybe Rabindranath would have suffered the same fate as Iqbal! Even the roles of Saare jahaan se Achha and Jana gana mana would have reversed! And it would have been Paul sir instead of Ayesha Salahuddin, who would have felt marginalized! Think about it! 

But for now, it's happy streaming and happy viewing.