Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Don't give up your dreams.
Education liberates a woman.
Music is a universal language.
I believe in telling the truth.
It takes one second to ruin a woman's life.
An Academy Award nomination is stuff dreams are made of.
I don't think I'll be making documentaries my whole life.
My family restores my sense of ease and keeps me balanced.
I hope I can make Pakistan proud by bringing home an Oscar.
When you play music, you don't need a language. Music is a language.
The Pakistani government and its allies must overhaul their policies in Pakistan.
Pakistan destroyed its own reputation. If anything, I have improved Pakistan's image.
All the women in Pakistan working for change, don't give up on your dreams, this is for you.
I'm generally quite an angry person, and I like to channel my anger toward something creative.
When I'm not working on the ground, spending time with my husband and daughter puts me at ease.
What good is my parents' wealth and education and upbringing if I'm not contributing to the world?
It doesn't matter who you are or where you come from - if you put quality work out there, it will be appreciated.
Working in any country where you want to talk about the kind of issues that other people don't want to talk about is difficult.
My topics are timely. When an event is happening is when I want to be there... I think it is our duty to challenge the status quo.
My films are motivated by a keen interest in highlighting issues that affect marginalized populations who are caught in difficult circumstances.
In terms of Saving Face, I was inspired by the stories of survivors who didn’t let their attacks stop them from pursuing justice and seeking treatment.
In terms of 'Saving Face,' I was inspired by the stories of survivors who didn't let their attacks stop them from pursuing justice and seeking treatment.
I became a documentary filmmaker because I wanted to make socially conscious films. I never studied filmmaking - everything I have learned has been on the field.
As filmmakers, you're not working on just one project, you're producing something, directing something, shooting something, and so it becomes hard to do it by yourself.
By bringing the voices of the ordinary people faced with extraordinary challenges to television screens around the world, I hope to affect change in one community at a time.
By giving our audience intimate access to the lives of musicians, we hope to raise awareness of the region's beautiful cultural heritage and present a more nuanced portrait of its people.
I'd like to do a film in Canada, but it's too difficult. National Film Board funding takes too long, and there's too much paperwork; by the time the film is approved the topic is dead and gone.
The day I won an Emmy was also the day my father passed away. I received a call from my sister on the way to the ceremony and had to turn my car around and catch the first flight back to Karachi.
But the biggest challenge overall was narrowing down the complex narrative elements into a clean and straightforward story while maintaining a sense of the cultural context that makes the film special.
I have very strong Canadian connections. My daughter was born there a year and half ago. But because of the nature of my job, I need to be in countries where I can get the stories that I am looking at.
In December 2011, I will be opening up my production house, Sharmeen Obaid Films, and aspire to change the way Pakistanis approach nonfiction storytelling. There are thousands of stories to be found here.
Fighting the Taliban and the various radical organizations on the front lines is like adding a Band-Aid to a cut, it may stop the bleeding but unless you clean it with antiseptic, the germs stay and multiply.
Despite their rising international acclaim, Sachal Studios remains virtually unknown in Pakistan. The ensemble is faced with a daunting task: to reclaim and reinvigorate an art that has lost its space in Pakistan's narrowing cultural sphere.
There are a number of parallels between the slums of Brazil and those found in my hometown, Karachi. The dichotomy that exists in Brazil is uncannily similar to that found in Pakistan, and I hope to one day make a film that follows similar themes.
It's often said that I choose subjects that are sensational! I choose to film subjects that spark difficult conversations and make people uncomfortable. Change only comes about when people are forced to discuss an issue, and that's what I hope my films do.
I think perhaps Pakistan can take the lead. Perhaps Turkey can as well, being part of Europe. But someone has to start talking about why the Muslim world has become a boiling pot and look beyond these cartoons to what the ideological reasons are for this divide.
The news that comes out of Pakistan is always geared toward terrorism and fundamentalism. But when you give people freedom of expression and the freedom to go out and be social and to express themselves, you will see a change. I see that coming about in my country.
Thousands of civilians have lost their lives to terrorist attacks inside Pakistan, and thousands more will - because, unlike the Pakistani government, which has no coherent policy to deal with the radicals, the Taliban have one to deal with Pakistan and its citizens.
I feel that for the first time in a long time, educated Pakistanis are returning to their country to start up educational projects, to start up businesses, so instead of the brain-drain that happened in the 1950s and 1960s, the country is growing and improving economically.
There were a lot of unique challenges in producing the film, such as the logistical issues inherent in producing a long-term verite film in Pakistan, dealing with Urdu and Punjabi dialogue with an English-speaking editor and all the difficulties in recording, editing and clearing so many music tracks.
When the film and music industries declined in the wake of increasingly conservative Muslim laws and social customs in Pakistan, many of these musicians found themselves out of work. They were brought together at Sachal Studios by Izzat Majeed, who built the studio in order to preserve these musical traditions.
The young boys I speak with say to me: Why would I want to live in this world - where they rely on charity, dry pieces of bread and water, where they are subjected to harsh treatment, when they can be free and be the envy of their colleagues in the afterlife. They are only too eager to sign on the dotted line and join the ranks of the Taliban.
My advice to other female directors would be to pay no heed to naysayers. Women can be united in the fact that there has always been someone in our lives who has told us "it can't be done" or "there is only so much you can do." We are constantly encouraged to think that being born a woman means we were born with limited choices and compromised dreams.
Where I grew up in Pakistan, it's really the luck of the draw. My mother got married when she was 17. She never went to college but she wanted each and every one of us to go to college and then work. She was relentless about it. And i think that part of who i am is shaped by her strength. If [girls] families support them, they can achieve their dreams
I grew up listening to my grandfather's stories of our musical past. He would often talk about the orchestras that played at concerts and the musicians who played on Sunday evenings on street corners. By the time I grew up in the '80s, all of this was a thing of the past. I lived vicariously through his stories and often wondered what it would have felt like to have been part of his generation.
I want people to leave the theater with a greater understanding of the rich cultural heritage of Pakistan. "Song of Lahore" moves beyond headlines and stereotypes and shows that a vast majority of Pakistanis are not perpetrators of religious violence - they are victims of it. The beautiful cultural heritage of the region belies its image in the West as monolithically religious, intolerant, and violent.