Usama Abid

Jathara is one of those films that barges into your head and just squats there, rent-free. Usama Abid, who’s been floating around the indie circuit for a while, really makes his mark here. The story’s set in the dust and noise of a city that feels weirdly familiar—like you’ve walked those streets at 2am, dodging stray dogs and half-awake chai-walas. The plot? Well, it’s messy, tangled, and honestly, kind of addictive. You’re following this guy, who’s not exactly a hero but definitely not a villain either, just someone who keeps screwing up but refuses to quit. He’s dealing with family drama, money troubles, and oh, there’s this whole thing with an old friend that just keeps spiraling out of control. What’s wild is how the movie doesn’t spoon-feed you anything. Subtle glances, half-finished sentences, the way a character lights a cigarette—it all means something if you’re paying attention. There’s a rawness to the whole thing, like the director just said, “Okay, life’s messy, let’s show it.” The soundtrack’s a mix of local beats and moody instrumentals, setting the vibe without ever getting in your face. By the time the credits roll, you’re left kinda dazed, maybe questioning your own choices. It’s not a feel-good flick, but it’s got guts. And honestly, that’s rare.