Main Manto Nahi Hoon Controversy: Educational Institutions in Lahore Impose Filming Restrictions
Main Manto Nahi Hoon Controversy has escalated dramatically, with veteran actress Atiqa Odho revealing that several universities in Lahore have prohibited television drama productions from utilizing their campuses for shoots. This decision stems directly from the intense public backlash against the ARY Digital series for its portrayal of a student-teacher romantic dynamic, which many have labeled as morally questionable and damaging to institutional reputations. The prime-time drama, which airs every Friday and Saturday at 8:00 p.m., has emerged as one of Pakistan’s most-watched serials since its July 2025 premiere, captivating audiences with its blend of social commentary and interpersonal drama. Penned by the provocative writer Khalil-ur-Rehman Qamar and helmed by director Nadeem Baig, the project stars Humayun Saeed and Sajal Aly in the central roles, alongside a strong ensemble including Sanam Saeed, Azaan Sami Khan, and Asif Raza Mir.
Odho, speaking during a recent event in Lahore, highlighted how the fictional depiction in the series triggered real-world repercussions for the educational facility portrayed on screen. “I had been to Lahore where I got to know that the schools have decided not to give their campuses for drama shoots because the institution in Manto has faced backlash after the airing of the drama series because it showed disgraceful content,” she stated. She advocated for stricter oversight, suggesting that academic bodies should insist on reviewing full scripts in advance to safeguard their premises from narratives that could tarnish their image or promote inappropriate themes.
Backlash Against the Student-Teacher Dynamic
The core of the Main Manto Nahi Hoon Controversy revolves around the evolving relationship between protagonist Mehmal (Sajal Aly), a determined young scholar escaping a restrictive family environment, and her reserved economics professor Manto (Humayun Saeed), whose name nods to the iconic writer Saadat Hasan Manto. Recent episodes have amplified hints of mutual affection, including scenes where students rally for the pair’s union and Mehmal’s aunt subtly encourages the bond, prompting widespread condemnation for seemingly endorsing an unethical power imbalance. Critics, including Odho, Nadia Khan, and Shamoon Abbasi, have voiced dismay over the script’s direction, with Odho earlier describing early episodes as promising but later installments as “foolish” for fixating on faculty obsessions with a student. Social commentators argue that in Pakistani culture, where educators are revered as ethical guides akin to “spiritual parents,” such storylines erode respect and risk normalizing exploitative scenarios.
The controversy has also drawn ire toward the cast and crew, with some questioning why seasoned performers like Saeed and Aly opted for a project that amplifies age-gap tensions and boundary-crossing tropes. Humayun Saeed, who also serves as a producer, has defended the narrative as a reflection of societal realities, though this stance has only heightened divisions within the industry.
University Bans as a Protective Measure
In response to the uproar, Lahore’s academic institutions have adopted a proactive policy shift, barring all future filming to prevent similar reputational harm. Officials from the affected universities cited the series’ content as a catalyst, fearing it could invite scrutiny or protests on their grounds. This move aligns with growing calls for accountability in media productions, where educational settings are frequently used as backdrops but rarely vetted for narrative alignment with institutional values. Odho emphasized the need for transparency, noting that without script previews, schools lack mechanisms to influence how their spaces are depicted, potentially leading to unintended endorsements of controversial elements.
This development echoes prior instances where fictional works have influenced real policies, underscoring the potent sway of television in shaping public discourse on ethics and education in Pakistan.
Social Media Echoes: Praise for Boundaries, Calls for Realism
Online platforms have erupted with varied sentiments on the Main Manto Nahi Hoon Controversy, predominantly favoring the universities’ firm stance as a safeguard for academic integrity. Many users hailed the bans as a “dignified step” to preserve campuses as havens of learning rather than stages for sensational plots. One commenter remarked, “Schools are for education, not for dramas or movie shootings,” capturing the widespread approval for prioritizing moral standards. Another added, “This is a principled stand—campuses should remain centers of learning, not controversy.”
However, a minority defended the storyline by drawing from personal observations, asserting that student-teacher attractions occur in real life and warrant exploration in art. “Is it forbidden for a student and teacher to have feelings for each other? Pakistani liberals are hilariously conservative,” one user quipped, challenging the outrage as overly prudish. Others lamented the restrictions, with posts like, “We are forced to see the student-teacher love story,” reflecting frustration over the trope’s persistence despite backlash. Defenders of the show praised its production values and acting, suggesting the narrative critiques rather than glorifies such dynamics, though this view remains overshadowed by dominant criticism.
Broader Ramifications for Pakistani Television
The Main Manto Nahi Hoon Controversy transcends mere plot disputes, igniting conversations on the responsibilities of creators in a conservative society. While the series boasts high ratings and lavish production by Six Sigma Plus and Next Level Entertainment, its bold choices—hallmarks of Qamar’s style—have alienated segments of the audience, prompting reflections on whether dramas should mirror uncomfortable truths or uphold aspirational ideals. Industry veterans like Odho urge a balanced approach, where artistic freedom coexists with sensitivity to cultural norms.
As the series progresses, the bans may compel producers to rethink location scouting, favoring controlled sets over authentic venues. For viewers, it serves as a reminder of television’s dual role: entertaining while subtly influencing societal values. Whether this leads to self-censorship or bolder storytelling remains to be seen, but the discourse has undoubtedly elevated scrutiny on ethical portrayals in Pakistani media.











