Let us begin with an uncomfortable truth. By now, many men have heard a woman say, “Abu Bakar wouldn’t do that”, and have been quietly processing the comparison ever since.
Whether it comes from a sister, wife or someone online, competing with a fictional man is no easy task. After all, he has a scriptwriter, a background score and perfect lighting. You have bills, bad moods and at least seven ways of saying “okay”.
So, how did we get here?
Pakistani television serial Dar-e-Nijaat premiered on 1 August 2026 on ARY Digital. Written by Umera Ahmed and directed by Saqib Khan, the family drama follows Abu Bakar, Zaryab and Zamil as love, betrayal, faith and difficult personal choices reshape their relationships.
Sheheryar Munawar plays Abu Bakar, Dur-e-Fishan Saleem portrays Zaryab, while Nameer Khan takes on the role of Zamil. The ensemble also features Sania Saeed, Saba Hameed, Nadia Afgan, Faran Tahir, Romaisa Khan and others.
Zaryab hopes to marry her longtime friend Zamil, only to see her expectations shattered by his choices. Her life eventually intersects with Abu Bakar’s, whose patience, kindness and understanding contrast sharply with Zamil’s behaviour.
Within weeks, Bangladesh had embraced the serial like a long-lost cousin. Clips, fan edits, romantic reels, sad-violin edits, “red flag or green flag?” polls and screenshots captioned “Take notes” began circulating across social media.
Soon, Friday and Saturday were no longer just the weekend. For enthusiastic viewers, they became Dar-e-Nijaat days. Some local venues have started arranging big-screen screenings, turning weekly episodes into group-viewing events. A recent watch party at The Coffee House in Manikganj, for instance, advertised episodes 26 and 27 on consecutive nights.
But the biggest attraction is the contrast between the two men. Abu Bakar has become marriage material, with female viewers openly admiring his character and sharing edits of his tender moments with Zaryab. Some men, meanwhile, appear to be watching with curiosity and envy. Zamil has become the internet’s favourite punching bag, attracting criticism and memes for his treatment of Zaryab.
The actors have noticed the frenzy too. Sheheryar has shared fan-made edits and joined the meme culture, even joking that Abu Bakar should receive a talent fee from brands capitalising on the drama’s popularity. He has also teased viewers about waiting for Friday’s episodes.
Nameer has taken a more direct approach to Zamil’s growing unpopularity. He has called out his character’s behaviour, urging men to be respectful, honest and accountable in relationships. He even joked about Zamil through Hania Aamir’s song Pablo, while Durefishan reacted to her character’s predicament with a pointed “Zaryab, wake up”.
But there is no need for real-life men to panic. Panic, after all, is a rather Zamil-like response. Here is a 30-day routine to become a little more like Abu Bakar, or at least stop embarrassing yourself.
First, stop interrupting. Yes, even when discussing cricket. Nobody is necessarily waiting for your analysis of why the batting order is a disaster. Practise with your family. You might discover your mother has been making interesting points since 2009.
Remember Zamil’s irritation when Abu Bakar gets involved in resolving Faryal and Shuja’s dispute? Instead of appreciating the effort, he sees it as a threat. A little less insecurity and more listening might have helped.
Next, learn to say “okay” without turning it into a weapon. No sarcastic “okay”, no “okay, but” and certainly no bringing the matter up again at a wedding three years later.
Think of Zamil’s conversations with Zaryab about his sudden interest in religious practices. Instead of explaining himself, he turns the discussion into a judgement of her lifestyle and spiritual worth. That is not a conversation. It is a lecture nobody requested.
Abu Bakar, meanwhile, does not need to establish his superiority in every discussion. Sometimes, saying less is the smarter move.
Also, stop making your bad mood everyone else’s problem. Being upset is normal. Slamming doors and maintaining three hours of silence while turning up the television are not communication strategies. Zamil’s insecurity over Abu Bakar’s place in Zaryab’s life repeatedly spills into his treatment of her. Abu Bakar offers a different example: he supports people without using their vulnerability to control them.
Put your phone down, too. Your reel can wait. When Zaryab is emotionally distressed, Abu Bakar offers support rather than dismissing her feelings or making the moment about himself. Sometimes, being present matters more than having the perfect response.
Finally, learn to hold back an opinion. Not every thought needs an audience. Zamil could certainly benefit. His conversations with Zaryab repeatedly become judgements about her choices, particularly when he invokes religion. Not every disagreement requires a sermon.
Now comes the difficult part: apologising without delivering a speech. A sincere “I was wrong” beats 10 minutes of explaining why you were technically right.
Zamil struggles to take responsibility for the hurt he causes, particularly when he uses Zaryab’s past against her. Abu Bakar’s quieter reassurance offers a better example.
No sequel, no “but you also…”. Critics might call it bad pacing, but it works.
Next, stop gossiping. Many men insist they never gossip while maintaining detailed files on every cousin’s salary, marriage and mysterious weight loss. Abu Bakar focuses on ideas rather than people. Zamil, meanwhile, becomes so preoccupied with Abu Bakar’s involvement in Zaryab’s life that he loses sight of his own behaviour.
Then, control your temper in traffic. If you cannot remain calm at a Dhaka intersection, perfection might be out of reach. Breathe. Abu Bakar has never been seen leaning on a car horn. Then again, he has never been seen in Dhaka traffic either. Perhaps that is the secret.
Learn to respect a “no”. Boundaries are not insults, and “but I made it with love” is not a legal argument.
Zamil’s attempts to judge Zaryab’s lifestyle do not become acceptable simply because he presents them as religious convictions. When he sends Abu Bakar intimate photographs in an attempt to shame her, Abu Bakar refuses to use her past against her. Instead, he challenges Zamil’s hypocrisy. That is what respecting a woman’s dignity looks like.
Avoid Zamil’s shortcuts, too. When life disappoints you, disappearing into something that numbs the pain is not the answer. Talk to someone and seek proper help when things become difficult. The bar might be on the floor, but it is still a good place to start.
Zamil’s unresolved emotions, insecurity and pride hurt those around him. His desire to change does not automatically make him a better person. There is a difference between claiming to change and actually changing.
Which brings us to the next lesson: examine your intentions. If your improvement only appears when someone is watching, that is not personal growth. That is theatre. Zamil’s growing interest in religious practices means little if he continues to judge and hurt Zaryab. Abu Bakar’s goodness, by contrast, shows in his everyday behaviour. He does not need to keep announcing that he is a good man.
And finally, remember that you are not Abu Bakar. Nobody is, because he does not exist. You are simply a slightly better, slightly calmer version of yourself. Even Abu Bakar would probably tell you to go easy on yourself, after a very long pause.
The joke is that none of these steps requires extraordinary effort. Listening, apologising, controlling your temper and respecting boundaries are not superpowers. Yet the fact that they can sound like a heroic transformation says something uncomfortable about the standards many people have come to expect.
There is also a quieter lesson for men who recognise a little of themselves in Zamil. We might cringe at his silence, pride and reluctance to admit he is struggling, only to realise that some of those habits exist in our own lives.
The story gives us a good man and a broken man. Most of us fall somewhere between the two, trying to figure out which direction to take.
So, take 30 days, or take three. Change gradually. Be decent without needing a fan edit, and be kind without a soundtrack. If someone still compares you to Abu Bakar, smile and say, “Okay”.
That may already be more than Zamil would have managed.
