For those who grew up watching Pakistani TV dramas and films, especially over the last 15 years, the name Ainy Jaffri needs no introduction. The green-eyed actress appeared in a few notable TV dramas and a couple of films during her short career, proving her mettle as one of the young actresses to watch.
Who can forget the cute little Maya who made the audience fall in love with her character in Aag TV’s teen drama Dreamers, or Mahira from Aseerzadi, where she delivered a power-packed performance in front of veterans Farooq Zameer, Salman Shahid, Sania Saeed, and Sakina Samo. She was also part of the Burka Avenger animated series as a voice-over artist and played the love interest of the main lead in Main Hoon Shahid Afridi, the film credited with reviving Pakistani cinema alongside Waar in 2013.
Although her second feature film, Balu Mahi, couldn’t do well at the box office, she stole the show since the story revolved around her character. Her other notable dramas included Meri Behan Maya, Sila, and Tajdeed e Wafa, in which she played lead roles and stood her ground against veteran actors.
Her career was going well before she moved abroad and went on a hiatus. Her talented younger sister, Mehr Jaffri, appeared as Hania Aamir’s elder sister in Meri Zindagi Hai Tu, which made a few people wonder where Ainy Jaffri was, and now they will get their answer with her return.
The talented expat actress has finally decided to return to acting after an eight-year hiatus from theatre, a platform she hasn’t been part of since the early 2000s. The theatre play she has chosen for her comeback, Rukhsati, is likely to resonate with many Pakistanis, in general, and South Asians in particular, living abroad.
Why did she choose Rukhsati for her comeback instead of a TV drama that would have ensured she got more offers? Why did she choose theatre for her return, and especially the Tara Theatre in London? Her comeback is not merely a shift in medium, but a deeply personal and artistic choice—one rooted in vulnerability, challenge, and the urge to tell stories that resonate strongly with the South Asian diaspora.
Written and directed by Saqib Deshmukh and featuring Ainy Jaffri and Hassan Khan as the main leads, Rukhsati explores love, identity, migration, and memory, capturing the quiet complexities of lives lived between cultures.
Describing the play as “a really special story about relationships, history, and everything we don’t say out loud,” Ainy invites audiences—especially expats—to see their own experiences reflected on stage. In the following conversation, she opens up about the play, her return to theatre, and why this story feels especially relevant today.
What made you choose this script for a comeback to the theatre?
The writing is fearless. It’s sharp, genuinely funny, and explores territory we don’t often see—especially when it comes to British Pakistani women.
We rarely tell stories about past love, about the “what ifs,” or about relationships that didn’t fully resolve. There’s a silence around that. Reading this felt slightly rebellious—almost like, are we allowed to say this out loud?—which made it even more exciting.
My character, Nighat, is layered and contradictory. She’s carrying so much beneath the surface. That kind of writing is rare, and as an actor, it’s exactly the kind of role you want to sink your teeth into.
Theatre also felt like the right space for this story. It’s intimate, sometimes uncomfortable, and there’s nowhere to hide—for the characters or for you as an actor.
After years away from the stage, I wanted to be pushed again. I hadn’t done theatre in decades, so it was important to return with something that truly challenged me—and this did.
Tell us briefly about the play and the message it offers in a world divided by racism and war
At its heart, Rukhsati is about two people reconnecting after years. But what unfolds is much bigger than a love story.
Through their conversation, the play touches on identity, surveillance, Islamophobia, gender roles, and the emotional cost of migration and assimilation. There’s a moment where Tariq talks about being detained under anti-terror suspicion, and you realize how quickly ordinary lives can be pulled into global politics.
What I love is that the play doesn’t lecture. It shows how these heavy themes exist within everyday people—in their relationships, fears, and even humor.
If there’s a message, it’s that division isn’t just something happening “out there” between countries. It seeps into our homes, our communities, and even our most intimate relationships. And yet, despite all that, there’s still tenderness, memory, and a desire to connect. That’s what keeps it human.
Why do you think expats and immigrants from South Asia will relate to this play?
Because it’s incredibly specific—and that’s exactly why it feels universal for that audience.
If you’ve grown up in a diaspora community, especially in cities like London, you’ll recognize everything: the shifts in language, the mix of humor and trauma, and how culture and religion are negotiated in real life.
There’s also the tension between who you were growing up and who you’ve become—or had to become—in a Western context. Nighat and Tariq are constantly navigating that. Even something as simple as a wedding becomes layered with memory, expectation, and identity.
Then there are very real pressures—marriage, children, izzat, and community judgment. Nighat’s line about how everything a woman does carries consequences is something many South Asian women will instantly understand.
The play feels like it’s holding up a mirror—not in a heavy-handed way, but in an intimate and recognizable one. While it’s rooted in a specific community, the emotions are universal.
You’ve been part of major films and dramas in Pakistan—how does that experience help in Rukhsati?
Screen work teaches you a lot about internal life—what’s happening beneath the dialogue. That’s crucial for this play because so much of what Nighat feels isn’t explicitly said.
But theatre demands something different. You can’t rely on a close-up. You have to build the emotional journey physically and vocally, moment by moment, in front of a live audience.
My previous work has given me emotional discipline—understanding rhythm, how to sit in a scene, how to listen. But with Rukhsati, I’ve had to expand that and be more exposed, more immediate.
Also, having worked in Pakistani film and television, I’m very aware of how South Asian women are often written. So when you get a role like Nighat—who is flawed, intelligent, angry, and funny—you don’t take that lightly. You bring everything you’ve learned to do justice to her.
With Rukhsati, Ainy Jaffri is not just returning to theatre—she is reconnecting with a global audience that shares her lived realities. For expats especially, this is more than a performance; it is a reflection of identity, memory, and belonging, told with honesty and emotional depth.
