“In Lahore we don’t have air to breathe but I’ve found a reason to breathe,” says Sannan Saleh, Instagram-famous for his narrative-driven comedic reels.

In a world that is increasingly leaning on social media for its entertainment fix, it’s intriguing to explore what drives a ‘content-creator.’

With more than 85,000 followers, Sannan is a prominent figure within the growing content-creation scene. Although technically a part of this segment to Millennials and Gen Z demographics, he’s already seen as an established creator.

Lines are blurry in the online world when it comes to categorisations. Many struggle to differentiate between a content creator and an influencer. A content creator is primarily driven by the desire to create content and entertain—often endorsing brands, products, and services—whereas an influencer might create content, although their main motivation is to promote brands, products, and services. Sannan does promote brands and products in his content, the subtlety of the execution points to the fact that he thinks of himself as the former of the two. While talking to him, I found Sannan to be grounded, refreshing and deeply connected to Pakistan.

He shared that after attending a private school in Lahore, he went to Duke University in the United States and later worked at Paramount. However, all this did not make him feel fulfilled, so he took a leap of faith and decided to come back to the city that produced Ali Azmat, Arooj Aftab and relentless smog.

What distinguishes Sannan’s reels is their resemblance to short films. If, like me, you’ve been following his work for some time, it’s clear that this is intentional. Sannan sees himself as a filmmaker but primarily as a writer. As the internet increasingly becomes the preferred mode of transmission for mainstream media, Sannan’s approach is a fascinating display of using short-form reels as tightly constructed films. To explore more about his approach, drive and philosophy, I sat down with him for a conversation.

Instep: What has been the most surprising thing that has happened through this journey of gaining a mass audience?

Sannan Saleh (SS): I think my sense of humour and writing has been very Western, but it has elements of Pakistani culture. I remember the first reel that blew up was about car defoggers, which then escalates into a very crazy Star-Trek type arc. All the dialogue was in English, and I was saying it in my accent. We thought nobody would get it. Still, my friends and I decided to go ahead with it because I thought it was fun to make, and apparently, a lot of people felt that way too when it came out. It wasn’t just private school-going kids of a certain class; it was so many more people who now have access to social media and see these trends. Another recent thing that has happened was that one of my friends who acts in the reels was at a tandoor getting roti. The tandoor vaala recognised him from a time-travel reel and started talking about how the reels were going viral. Now, that reel was primarily targeting kids, but the man made references and jokes about it. Maybe he got it fully, maybe he got some of it, but the point is, he was entertained.

So, this loop that Pakistanis don’t deserve good content because Pakistanis don’t appreciate good content, so Pakistanis don’t make good content, does not need to exist. It’s just a misconception based on us undervaluing ourselves.

Instep: Would you consider reels to be cinema?

SS: I would, absolutely! I think that we have this idea that art is supposed to be purchased for millions and then only certain people can watch it and understand it. There are rickshaw drivers on Tiktok whose whole content is just them walking with wild visual effects. To them, what they’ve made is a ‘banger’. They’ve learned how to film it, use the effects, and put passion into it. That is what I try to do as well.

Instep: What does the term ‘mainstream’ mean to you, considering that even local television content is now watched on YouTube, and even mainstream stars rely on social media to stay relevant?

SS: For me, it’s always been obvious that the mainstream is the internet. Every brand needs to have an Instagram presence because everyone’s attention is there. I think what we mean by ‘mainstream’ is ‘big-money studios.’ Now they don’t control exclusive access to distribution; people can get notifications on their phones for videos I put out. At the end of the day, it’s about the audience and where you can reach them.

“I think that we have this idea that art is supposed to be purchased for millions and then only certain people can watch it and understand it. There are rickshaw drivers on Tiktok whose whole content is just them walking with wild visual effects. To them, what they’ve made is a ‘banger’. They’ve learned how to film it, use the effects, and put passion into it. That is what I try to do as well.” – Sannan Saleh

Instep: Can you talk about brands that sponsor your content. The way your reels incorporate them is very subtle and very unusual compared to the ‘in-your face’ approach others use.

SS: I think it goes back to the false belief about Pakistanis being a dumb audience. The best branding is subtle. Brands understand they’re getting visibility, and the economics of it is very simple; it’s all about engagement. I’m lucky in that the brands I’ve worked with have had a hands-off approach and trust me with the creative process. For me, the highlight of my work is writing, scripting, and the actual story. I think you can spend no money or a million dollars, but the script is what makes a difference. This is why someone who enjoys a Tarantino movie can also enjoy a well-made reel. People often share a reel they loved with a friend just as they would a movie scene. Because I am a writing-driven content creator, brands trust me with the scripting and don’t want to interfere. I am also very interested in ads, so it’s exciting for me to consider product placement when I’m writing. Brands appreciate the value of that because they see it in the engagement numbers. I think they see that subtlety works well with our audience.

Instep: What do you think is the value of your content in the context of the current political and social climate in Pakistan?

SS: We live in a place where many things can’t be said openly, and people are very reactive. People don’t want to hear something that challenge their beliefs. My approach is that the worst thing to do is to say something that provokes them further because that’s combative and it polarises people, even if it might get more views. The thing about comedy is that it disarms people. Those in power are often afraid of this because they know that ideas can’t be destroyed. In my comedy, I try to address things that have been on my mind. Sometimes it’s the hypocrisies of our culture, and I think that makes the content more relatable. Pakistanis love to preach but don’t like being preached to. So, when you’re entertaining people, there’s ample opportunity to address important topics, and, just like product placement, it can be done subtly.

Instep: What are things that you want to correct in our society?

SS: I don’t think I would necessarily take up that onus because a lot of people already do (laughs). For me, the guiding force is that ‘I don’t know.’ I don’t know the ‘correct’ answer, but I think the right approach is to create dialogue until we can find out, at least, what’s not working.

Instep: How do you feel about the increasing restrictions on freedom of speech in Pakistan?

SS: There aren’t any effective ways to silence people. That’s a problem every regime, school, authoritarian parent, and even we ourselves face. It’s not even about freedom of speech—it’s a colonial concept that Pakistan operates on, where we’re told to be disciplined, refined, and then eventually, we might be whole. I found that very toxic in our schools, and in Pakistan in general. This mentality limits self-expression, not just on political topics, but even social issues like class. For example, we have this notion that the tandoor vaala can’t make art because he is a tandoor vaala, and that is not his place. I think that is a big problem. But banning platforms doesn’t achieve anything. At the end of the day, those people still exist, and you’re only ruling the land, not them. Silencing strategies don’t truly silence people; they just change how people express themselves.

Instep: What do you think we can do to bridge the class divide?

SS: I have a core belief that most people don’t want anything bad to happen to someone else; they just want to protect themselves, which leads to misguided actions out of survival instinct. Also, I feel like I have no control over who I am, and nobody else does either. This perspective helps me empathize with other people, seeing them as products of their circumstances. Bad people and good people are just children who grew up. This helps me avoid judging anyone. We’re all just one interactive thing flowing together.

Instep: What has contributed to your success as a content creator?

SS: Consistency. For four years, I wasn’t consistent because I couldn’t silence my internal critic—the colonial voice that tells us we’re not good enough. When I stopped listening to that, I became more consistent and could focus on improving my work. In Pakistan, we’re told to do well, go abroad, and someday live our lives, but that day never comes. Mindfulness taught me we can live our lives now.

Instep: What is your reason to breathe in Lahore?

SS: Being present and engaged in everything that happens in my life, good or bad. Making crazy content and spending more time with family are all reasons. We’re on our little raft heading toward the rapids, but at least we’re laughing and making jokes about it, whereas the U.S. felt like a cruise ship where everyone is happy but nobody is present.

– Uneeb Nasir writes about culture, art and identity. More of his work can be found on medium.com/@uneebnasir.