A woman of importance
By Bahzad Alam Khan

You forfeit your identity when your personality is eclipsed by that of your star husband. All your life you play second fiddle, stepping aside so that newsmen may zoom in on him. Samina Ahmed's achievement lies in the fact that she has successfully flung away an otherwise inevitable tag: Salman's wife. Describing the address to her home, she said, "You can't miss it, it has a nameplate alongside the gate that reads, 'Dr Samina Ahmed.'"

Clad in a black flattering skirt, she told me, "I regularly do some exercises to keep in shape. I keep myself busy because we should live this life to the full." Samina's remarkable quality is that she is effortlessly elegant, and dignity and style come naturally to her. Fair and Lovely - My Choice was a programme that brought her zest for life into play. Apart from the success of the programme, it underlined what our women conveniently forget: you don't have to stop taking care of yourself if you are a dedicated mother or a doting wife. In short, you don't have to be frumpish no matter what you are.

The programme My Choice was modelled on the BBC's Blind Date. Needless to say, it had to be modified a lot. The entire perspective and flavour had to be changed. As a consequence, we find a mother-in-law discussing her ideal daughter-in-law, or a student discussing his ideal teacher.

On the face of it, many Ms govern Samina's eventful life: medicine, media, management and maternal responsibilities. She loves to walk a tightrope, though. "I am essentially very vibrant. You see, life's clock is always ticking. You must grab every moment and make the most of it."

A happy childhood brought on confidence and independence in later life, with a resolve to be a career woman. She went to a medical college to study medicine. She was engaged to Salman who also studied in a medical college for six long years. "It was after I had finished my housejob that we decided to tie the knot. Ours was a very long engagement that successfully stood the test of time."

Salman at that time may have been her knight in shining armour, but he needed her moral support as he had just parted company with the Vital Signs, and was desperately trying to find a niche for himself in the wild world of music. "I helped Junoon organize their first gig in 1989. At that time a concert was a novelty for the Karachiites. They were pitiably entertainment-starved and would gatecrash if they couldn't get tickets. Several times, I played a bouncer woman, sorting out petty scuffles and getting people to behave themselves. Oddly enough, they always obliged."It is highly ironical that when Samina was single-mindedly engrossed in taking care of Junoon's management, she felt no affinity for their music. "Initially I couldn't identify with Junoon's music. It was too rockish for my taste. Later on, their music endeared itself to me as they turned to the rich sufi tradition."

Though she was greatly involved with Junoon, she was reluctant to give up her identity. She knew she had potential, and she was determined to tap it. She kept working as a paediatrician at the National Institute of Child Health. "We then decided to have kids. I have three sons, but I always tell people that I have four babies. You cannot forget Salman who is also a spoilt brat." Three kids frolicking around, made it abundantly clear that they keep their mama on her toes. They just refused to stay put. "You must see me with my kids; you can't get the picture of my life without them," she had told me over the phone. She was right.

Through with her evenly spaced-out pregnancies (her sons, in descending order, are eight, six and four years old), she again courted the limelight. "I did Potluck for two years - over a hundred episodes. It was the first cooking show in Pakistan." And only God knows when we'll have the last one. She continued, "I was again very involved with my work, I did a lot of scriptwriting for the programme. Things became very interesting at the NICH where people sought not only medical advice but quick-fix recipes as well. People became afraid of inviting me to dinners. They saw me as a gourmet person and thought I would sit in judgment of their food."

Singing invariably eluded Samina. "I had learnt singing as a child, but I was really in a fix when Salman asked me to sing a promo for the movie Jinnah alongside Ali Azmat. To tell you the truth, I was mortified. Salman had given me only one week to practice. And practice I did. In the end, I did a reasonable job, I guess. But that prompted me to take up my singing classes from where I had left off."

I knew that she must have been asked this question umpteenth times, but I couldn't help myself, so how did she react to female fans of Salman's? Shrugging her shoulders, she smiled knowingly and said: "Well, I don't compete with them, for they are his fans and I am his wife. It's just as simple as that."