What's in a name..?

Hamfasar has played various roles; as a television-reviving drama, screening the upper and lower middle class under strictly defined binaries, embedding the dialogues and visuals with a definite sense of religion and modernity, while also having names identify character in a significant manner.
Ashar meaning lively (intelligent from other sources) has a modern tone attached to its phonetics which compliments perfectly the ‘farmabardar(obedient) beta’ who is also a Yale graduate. It also has the combination of a traditional and yet contemporary (I only knew of the crappy singer Usher prior to this drama) son, produce of a hardworking father who elevates himself and his family from a humble background and a deceiving mother who keeps harping about how much effort she has invested in bringing up and training her son. The interplay of an ethnic and advanced traits also echoes in his choice and preference in terms of the girl he picks; Khirad over Sara.        
Khirad again is a loaded name that communicates several ideas and personas about itself. If going by the meaning which is intelligent, it bears the idea that this character cannot be a flat one, but is rounded. There are nuances and dichotomies to it, and she will surprise you. Now while she is being portrayed as the ‘saada, shareef, gharailo larki’ who is exceedingly ‘sharmeeli’ one cannot possibly ignore the naughtiness that begins to charm the house from the fifth episode (once Ashar overhears Khirad talking to Baseerat about how she has been imposed in Ashar’s life). The male gaze begins to then strolls on our protagonists body, does some soul-searching in her eyes, passes questionable smiles, and makes the oddest most perverted inquires like ‘magazine parh liya tou light band kar doun?’. We see our lovely Khirad come in form with fire lighting in her genius spirit that knows more than solving a 2.5 * 90,000 sum (episode 7) and she plays those eye to eye tricks with Ashar too, starting with helping Ashar him in the chess game against his father. Not quite sharmeeli, but more patakha like. Then this ‘khudaar’ girl literally makes Ashar her ‘majazi khuda’ by being reduced to tears (nearly) when Ashar expresses his delight on knowing that she is a graduate (NOW she can deserve the Yale stud). This apparently towering figure who doesn’t otherwise approve of her mother calling Baseerat too often or eats haleem without a proper invitation lets Sara feed her brain with propositions of not only herself but also about Ashar’s desires. She never also protests at Sara’s blatant insult on her birthday but she has all the audacity to walk up to Baseerat and lecture him on his awful marriage decisions. There are hence layers to her characters, which we see as she has been projected, need to be unveiled with subtle care. Her name goes perfectly with the persona.
Next, Sara is short and simple. She is what she is; a hysterical obsessive girl. Nothing more, nothing less. This is why perhaps even her first suicide attempt followed by the death does not prove to be a life changing event in either Khirad or Ashar’s life. Names have always carried massive importance especially in western literature and with this drama we see the idea penetrating into Pakistani art form too.