Film Anarkali And Its Three Lyricists!

Film Anarkali And Its Three Lyricists!

By Zulqarnain Shahid                                                                                                                                                

Anwar Kamal Pasha’s film, Anarkali was released on 6th June, 1958. Five lyricists wrote songs for this film, while two greatest of tunesmiths composed 8 songs for it. The composers were Rasheed Attre and Master Inayat Hussain, probably two of the most versatile men in the local industry. The 5 lyricists of the film were Tufail Hoshiyarpuri, Qateel Shifai, Tanvir Naqvi, Saifuddin Saif and Hakim Ahmed Shuja, the father of Anwar Kamal Pasha.

Although all 8 songs of the film were hits, three numbers stand out for their merging brilliance of the lyrics and the compositions. They are:

  1. Kahan tak sunoge kahan tak sunaoon
  2. Jalte hain arman mera dil rota hai
  3. Sada hoon apne pyar kee

Saifuddin Saif’s Jalte hain arman mera dil rota hai is composed by Master Saheb, and he begins with a poetic couplet rendered tantalizingly slowly and dramatically by Noor Jahan. Taken to a crescendo, where the actual song begins to unfold, the couplet sets the mood:

Kat-tee naheen hai gham kee raat, aa ke theher gaee hai kya

Neend to khair so gaee, maut bhee mar gaee hai kya

This couplet has a double symbol, revealing not only the heart-rending frustration of a woman in the Mughal era of Kings and slaves, but the depression and emotion of a whole nation at the way the darkness seems to be eternally present all around it. After this couplet, the song begins with a pre-knowledge of difficult circumstances.

Next, you come to Tanvir Naqvi’s Kahan tak sunoge, composed by Master Inayat. The song not only has the lyrical symbolism, but also compositional symbolism. As in Jalte hain arman, there are pre-asthai lines. Here, the situation of the song is this that Anarkali (Noor Jahan) is writing poetry in her letter to Prince Saleem (Sudhir), who later became Shahenshah Jahangir. Anarkali’s friend, Dilaram (Shamim Ara) offers to deliver the letter to Prince Saleem personally. As she approaches the Mughal Prince, and asks him if she should reveal the contents of the letter, the camera leaves the scene, and moves to the ghulam gardish (Hall of the Slaves), where Noor Jahan has already begun to croon the song on cue, which, apparently, the Prince is unable to listen to.

Senior writer and showbiz journalist, Ali Sufyan Afaqi writes in his column, Hazaar Dastan that Tanvir Naqvi was in the habit of writing his lyrics in his own bedroom, and he used to invite the music directors to the room, and would listen to their music, and meanwhile, he would come up with his songs. In the evening, he would wash and dress in pristine white kurta pyjama, put on a good scent, put oil in his hair, and sit against a gao-takya, starting to write the moment the mood hit him, as the music director starts to play his composition on the harmonium or baja, in the film parlance. Then, he would pen some of his best songs. Aside from Khwaja Khurshid Anwar, all other musicians would visit his house for matching compositions with Tanvir Naqvi’s lyrics. Khwaja Sahab preferred the studios.

Master Inayat had been asked to create music for Anarkali, but later, Attre Saheb was also roped in. Master Inayat used to do his work in a relaxed way, while Anwar Kamal Pasha wanted the full score in a limited time. Master Sahab always used to listen to the lyrics first, and then used to create music for it. He never used to make the music first. He said, “This is not the work of some carpenter that you just fix the limbs of the chair and it is ready. Music is not thoka thaki! It is creative work, and needs inspiration to work. Therefore, master Sahab told Pasha that if he wants quick work, then he’d better ask somebody else to make his music. When Rasheed Attre was approached, he was reluctant to replace Master Sahab. But, Master Sahab told him to go ahead, because he had turned down the job himself. That’s when Rasheed Attre agreed to do the film.

As regards, Kahan tak sunoge, when Master Saheb went to Naqvi’s house, and they worked it all out. It is Master Inayat’s voice you listen to during the song, when Sudhir replies to Dilaram, “Zubani sunao!” Master Inayat talked to Tanvir Naqvi about the song, and pointed out that when a kaneez talks to the Mughal Prince, the song should portray the immense distance of social station between them. She cannot just come up to him and ask him to listen to her poetic renderings. So, Tanvir Naqvi wrote those pre-asthai lines:

Mohabbat ka naghma hai, main naghma gar hoon

Yeh nama kisi ka hai, main nama bar hoon

Parhoon khat ke mazmoon zubani sunaoon

Then, the Prince replies: Zubani sunao!

After this, Noor Jahan starts the song from some other place in the palace:

Kahan tak sunoge, kahan tak sunaoon

Hazaron hee shikwe hain, kya kya bataoon!

When Master Sahab looked at Tanvir Naqvi’s lyrics, he was truly infatuated by the poetry, and said, “Wah, Tanvir Sahab, Kamaal kar diya! Humility, courtesy, grievance, the warmth of love, the liberty that she can take with the Prince, and at the same time, the respect of royalty, are all there in these lyrics.”

Now, I must tell you that this song was first written by Tanvir Naqvi for K. Asif’s famous period vehicle, MughaleAzam. But, since it wasn’t included in the film eventually, the lyricist offered it for Anarkali. Only its pre-asthai lines were added in this song. Right from the beginning, the song tells you that very courteously, Anarkali makes it apparent to the future king that he just couldn’t begin to understand the problems she is facing while falling in love with him. He could only carry on this love affair at his own convenience, without realizing how precarious it is for her to go through all this, hiding this fact from a palace full of spies, since socially it is just not the done thing. This asthai tells the listener that there are thousands of issues that she faces, not one. For instance, just picking one at random:

Huzoor aap par ik jahan kee nazar hai,

Nigah-e-karam seke mujhko yeh dar hai,

Jahan kee nazar mein kaheen aa na jaoon!

This Anarkali in Tanvir Naqvi’s lyrics is an intellectual person, not just any common court detail, as is the case with Qateel Shifai’s lyrics. She reminds the Prince that he is an international figure, whose every gesture is noted by all. So, being linked with him, she is also elevated to a place, where she might be in the glare of the world. That factor, in her insight, is liable to put her life on a continuous risk of persecution at every step. Now, most other slave girls would give their right eye to be in this envious position to be in the loving embrace of the Mughal Prince, and thus noted at every step. Not Anarkali. She notes that she had a quiet and private life up until she was romantically introduced to the Prince. So, what she is saying is that his nigah-e-karam is not actually the warm embrace that most others would want. Commonly, this would be considered a pessimistic or cynical viewpoint, but actually it’s closer to the mystical angle, which Tanvir Naqvi pinned to her personality. For a lowly kaneez, this is a world view, which increases her IQ level to that of a princess.

Again, in the second stanza, Anarkali notes:

Zamana hua hai mujhe muskuraey,

Mohabbat mein kya kya na sadme uthaey,

Kisey yaad rakkhoon kisey bhool jaoon!

So, she is more concerned with the changes that are coming in her personality. She feels that she has become glum and grave, while she used to smile and sing in the past. Those changes make her think as to what she may become if this continues, since there is no chance of ever getting betrothed to the Prince. She feels these negative traits would change her into a frustrated and devious woman. Considering the fact that she was thought to have had been put behind a cemented wall, where she died, this point of view was perfectly relevant. Indian film, Mughal-e-Azam shows that Akbar-e-Azam didn’t act as ruthlessly as was first thought, and he let Anarkali escape through a tunnel, which was later cemented and closed, creating the legend that Anarkali was cemented into a wall. But, in Tanvir Naqvi’s lyrics, Anarkali seems to be closer to mysticism than being just a worldly woman.

The only song in the film that has precedence over Tanvir’s Kahan tak sunoge, is Qateel Shifai’s Sada hoon apne pyar kee. Once again, symbolism is at the heart of this number. Qateel Shifai may not be considered amongst the top ten Pakistani poets as an intellectual and international personality, he, nonetheless, was a very different man in the film industry. When analyzed as a film lyricist, the amount of classical lyricism and symbolism that Qateel put into his poetry is no less than any of the best in the game. He may not have written such bold lyrics as Sahir Ludhianvi or perhaps Habib Jalib, but his symbolism is amongst the best that could be imagined. You cannot disregard the brilliance of that symbolism in films like Naela (Door veeraney mein ik shama hai roshan kab se etc). That progressive class is evident in his film songs. In Anarkali, Noor Jahan is dressed in pristine white for this number, and swings to the melody in the wind. Composed on visionary notes by Rasheed Attre, this song goes like this:

Sada hoon apne pyar kee,

Jahan se be-niaz hoon,                                                                                    

Kisee pe jo na khul sakey,

Woh zindagi ka raaz hoon!

In progressive poetry, this is called the personification of the poetry. Where the person singing the song, turns into the song, the symbol, the meaning. Thus, this woman, in herself, is a secret, which isn’t revealed till the end. This is exactly the case, when you consider her legend, that she isn’t revealed till the end. What she says is that she is a voice of her love, and doesn’t care for the world. She has turned into an eternal song. Other lines of the song:

Sunein agar meri sada,

To chalte karwan rukein,

Bhula ke apni gardishein,

Mein husn ka ghuroor hoon

Mein dilbari ka raaz hoon!

These lines show you that Qateel turns this woman, this character of the Mughal Darbar into a universal symbol. Symbols have a way of reaching you from across the universe. It is the call of the times. Here, it’s really beautifully done. Here, you can see how different in tone are these three songs from the other five numbers. They have a symbolic entity, which others are missing.

 

Lollywood 1951

Lollywood 1951

By Zulqarnain Shahid

Walking through the dark streets of the tinsel town, Lahore, with a lit cigarette between lips, at 10 in the night, you could listen to the tantalizing echo of the lilting songs being played in the cinema halls. Gleaming light would make its way out of the slightly ajar doors of the halls, when a ticket-checker or some other staff member would come out to wander into the dark alleyways of the cinema. Occasional cars rushed by and left a trail of tail lights in the night. You could see a few pan shops open in the wee hours, with two to three smokers around them, who would light a cigarette, or asked for a meetha pan.

In such a dark, and quite night, only two types of men would come out so late: a common cinema-goer or a poet! Of course, the criminal would also appreciate this dark night. But, for the moment, let’s not go into this.

Yes, a common film enthusiast, who would want to enjoy the dialogues of Alauddin or Santosh Kumar, or a sweet song of Munawwar Sultana, picturised on Sabiha or Sauran Lata, sauntered off to the Ratan Cinema or Qaiser Cinema. He would have something to relate to his friends up at one of those second floor offices, where he was a sales clerk. As for the poet, well, he would loiter around in the dead of the night, have a cup or two of the Kashmiri tea at the Laxmi Chowk, and would pour over his new poem that his inspiration has given him to scribble on the back of a literary magazine. Yes, he could, if he really yearned for, mount the steps of a cinema, and watch a film. But, mostly, the poet walked slowly and casually on the lonely roads of Lahore in the night to be alone to think alone about issues, and as the wind touched their faces, to light a cigarette, and keep on walking around, till it’s time to return. Poets like Nasir Kazmi and Qateel Shifai would measure the Lahore roads every night. The best poems and ghazals of many major poets of the early Fifties were fashioned this way, on the roads!

This was the intellectual lifestyle of those days. And nobody else cared a hoot about it! Only the intellectuals saw the world in its true dark hues in the nights of Lahore, which were well lit up in the film studios and restaurants, but had no lamps on the outside, where life was really situated. Those poets peered deep and hard at the actual theatres of life. And wrote about it in their eternal poems. Majaaz, Nasir, Jalib, Tanvir, Qateel.

Nasir Kazmi described this life of a nocturnal vagabond in one of his creation:

Main hoon, raat ka aik baja hai

 Khali rasta bol raha hai!

On the same route, in the dead of the night, Majaaz wrote that brilliant and revolutionary poem:

Ae gham-e-dil kya karoon,

Ae wehshat-e-dil kya karoon!

That was their own lifestyle. Every night, they went out to be alone on a deserted road.  And nobody else cared about it. This intellectual lifestyle, I mean!

This was 1951. The fourth year after Partition. The beginning of the Fifties. The decade of revolutionary work in literature and art, in the subcontinent. Edhi Foundation began working this year. Karachi University was founded this year. General Ayub Khan became the first non-British Chief of Army Staff. The Rawalpindi Conspiracy Case came to fore this year, where people like Faiz Ahmed Faiz and Sajjad Zaheer were sent behind bars after they reportedly plotted a coup.

Yes, 1951. The year that we lost the first prime minister of Pakistan.

Of course, we are talking about culture, not politics (as if politics could be kept away from any aspect of life). I would like to indulge in the happenings of the earliest period of Lollywood, and what transpired in the newly renovated film studios of the country.

July-December 1950

On the evening of 17th December, 1950, film journalists and cinema-related people were called to the City Film Studio for the inauguration of the first Film Artistes Association of Pakistan (FAAP). When the invitees reached the venue of the function, what they saw made them smile, and get excited.

The function was being presided by the famous Indian and Pakistani comedian, Noor Mohammad Charlie!

On the right hand of Charlie sat a character actor, Ajmal, who used to do mostly funny roles at that juncture. Later, Ajmal became a very versatile artiste, and his younger brother, Akmal became one of the most successful Punjabi film lead. But, in 1950, Ajmal used to do comic roles in films. On the left hand side of Charlie sat another chap with light-hearted roles in films, named Abu Shah. You must have seen Abu Shah in the 1980s in Ashfaq Ahmed’s single plays and other serials, with a long white beard. He mostly played serious character roles in those dramas. But, in those early days of the Fifties, Abu Shah played small, funny characters, which were basically filler roles.

Seeing these three men together, presiding over such an important inauguration of a film artiste association, made the invitees smirk no end. What were they up to?

Fortunately, it soon became apparent that these funny men of the screen were dead serious about forming this association. Adding his presence to the whole scene was a pakka surkha, Zaheer Kashmiri, who was always on the forefront of the Progressive Poets, whenever they met to make important decision in the country. He remained one of the important members of the group, sitting side-by-side with Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi, Khwaja Khurshid Anwar, Tanvir Naqvi, and others.

Zaheer Kashmiri and other local poets like Munshi Hashr Lakhnavi, were brought in to fill the void that was created due to the absence of the senior artistes of the films. But, when it was announced that the FAAP would be strictly restrict itself to the film people, Zaheer Kashmiri stood up, and spoke on the issue of the united stand of the cultural front, which should include the film and theatre artistes, as well as the progressive poets and writers, and journalists. He sympathized with the film artistes, and said that the progressive literary figures are on the same page with them, and would stand shoulder to shoulder with them. He emphasized that they are like brothers, and their exploitation by the film-makers were the same as the capitalists exploit the masses. Therefore, he said, they should stand together.

Of course, some of the conservative batches of journalists felt this was like colouring the strictly film function in political hues. But, today, we can see that that wasn’t at all the case, and if the film and literary communities had joined hands at that early junctures, our film industry would be a very progressive and creative entity today. We have a prominent example of that united front in India, where many progressive and creative films were made with the coming together of the progressive literary figures like Khwaja Ahmed Abbas, Majrooh Sultanpuri, and Sahir Ludhianvi, who helped Raj Kapoor and Guru Dutt, as well as famous Socialist actors like David and Balraj Sahini.

Sadly, there was no initiation of a united front on that day. No doubt, the film artistes did co-operate during the Fifties and Sixties, regarding creation of progressive scripts and films, but that did not become a discipline of the industry through a united association, and only continued on person-to-person basis, and this occasional co-operation finally broke down in the Seventies.

By the way, Zaheer Kashmiri wrote many songs for Indian and Pakistani films during the Forties and Fifties. So, he was definitely a man from the film industry. Then, why turn him down!

In mid-1950, while Anwar Kamal Pasha was shooting a final spell of his Punjabi film, Gabhroo, he was getting irritated due to too many takes by the famous character actor, Ajmal. Finally, after the umpteenth time, he called out to Ajmal from his high point on the floor that he wasn’t doing the effort to look the part. Actually, Ajmal was doing a scene, where he had to meet a cruel death. But, Anwar Kamal wasn’t convinced by his expressions. He told Ajmal that instead of looking like a man in extreme pain, the camera sees him as a man clowning around. “Your facial contortions make you look like you are trying to be funny, not dying in agony!” he called out. Ajmal looked at him helplessly, and walked up to him, saying to him, “Pasha Sahab, the amount of money you are paying to me for this film makes me contort my face helplessly, which seems to you as if I am being funny!” Unit hands told some sleuths of the press that Pasha increased Ajmal’s pay packet handsomely, and soon the scene was successfully canned. By the way, Pasha’s Gabhroo was released on 21st December, 1950, and was a reasonably successful one.

While Shaukat Hussain Rizvi and Noor Jahan were busy making their famous debut venture in Pakistan, titled Chan Ve, a hot scandal sprung up in the local press. This scandal came to light during the making of this film, when Pakistan’s well-known young first-class cricketer in 1951, Nazar Mohammad, started to visit the sets of the film regularly. Nazar, later, during the 1952 Test cricket series with India, played five matches for Pakistan, and carried the bat as the opener for his fine 124 not out, in the Second Test versus India, in October, 1952, still a Test record for Pakistan. During his visits to the sets of the film, he was introduced to Noor Jahan, and according to Shaukat Hussain Rizvi, in his famous book, ‘Noor Jahan Aur Mein’, she also egged him on. The local press wasn’t privy to this clandestine affair uptil then, but some of the sleuths observed that something was fishy, though they did not openly wrote so. Shaukat Saheb was watching the whole episode, first hand, and became enraged at this ‘love game’ being played under his very nose. He writes in his book that Noor Jahan would make various excuses to go out to meet with Nazar, and be with him. This scandal went out of hand, when in 1953, it had its climax, as Shaukat Saheb suddenly stormed into a house near Islamia Park, where they used to meet secretly. When Test cricketer, Nazar Mohammad saw him climbing the stairs to the room, he panicked and jumped from the upper floor, some 25 ft down, and broke his arm. This scandal, though being partly reported by some pressmen, now came into the open, and was reported by all the film press. Of course, Nazar had, by then ended his cricket career. His son, Mudassar Nazar played quite a few tests for the country.

January-February 1951

Famous Indian and Pakistani actor, Himalyawala (real name Mohammad Afzaal), who later played Shahenshah Akbar in film, Anarkali in the 1958 film, started his own production, which probably never got completed. Famous drama and short-story writer, and film-maker, Syed Imtiaz Ali Taj was contracted as the writer and director of Himalyawala’s film, titled Tara. Well, Taj had come down after writing the screenplay and dialogues of the famous K. Asif’s all-time great Indian classic, Mughal-e-Azam. He, later, contributed some good scripts to the Pakistan film industry, though he did not make cinema his permanent occupation. Sibtain Fazli’s Dupatta was to be one of his early scripts, released in 1952, which was a very famous hit. Aside from this detail about Tara, Himalyawala contracted the famous British cinematographer, John Dean, while the dances were choreographed by Rafiq Anwar. The film was to star Noor Jahan, Himalyawala, Charlie, Masood, Sabiha etc.

An Indian film, titled Lahore was brought into Pakistan to be released in March. The film was based on the Partition riots in Lahore, where Hindu, Muslim and Sikh people were shown to be committing massacres of each other. These scenes were not only bloody, they were full of bad language. On top of this, the exhibitors planned elaborate arrangements to screen the film for the journalists and VIPs first, before their public screening. Though the exhibitors claimed that all the controversial scenes had been cut from the film, whoever saw the film felt there was no need to show such a bloody film just a few years after the Partition, when people on both sides are still full of sorrow and hatred. Finally, the film was banned by the government.

It’s interesting to note that the film periodicals of early Fifties on both sides of the border, were full of rumours and news about the journalists falling for the film heroines. Amongst the Indian journalists, Babu Rao Patel, who was also involved in film-making, was seen frequenting Madhubala’s shootings, and wrote effusive praise and description of her beauty in his articles in 1951. He used to fill his own monthly magazine with colour pictures of Madhubala. But, the readers also noted that he also tried to put degrading punchlines for other actresses in the industry. In what readers felt was his xenophobic asides, he wrote that Suraiyya had a great sympathy for Pakistani film-makers, and asked her to leave the Indian film industry. In Pakistan, the editor of a monthly film magazine, titled Qindeel, Mr Zahoorul Hasan Dar waxed eloquent in the praise of the classic features of the earthy beauty, Shammi, who later married Sudhir. The editor of monthly Adeeb, Aziz Nizami used to write high-flown Urdu poetry for Sabiha. Similarly, another film journalist, Zaheer Ahmed Naqsh had a special loving eye for the new girl in tinsel town, named Zarina Reshman, who we now know as Yasmeen, who was, later, the second wife of Shaukat Hussain Rizvi. So, you could say that journalists have always been romantics.

Agha Saleem Raza (no, not the playback singer), who used to be a famous character actor of the Fifties, and who is known for his feudal status (zamindar), is known for wearing odd combinations on the sets. For instance, he would come to the studio in a blue shirt, blue tie and a blue suit, to which the directors would take exception, and eventually he had to change the suit. Unlike Aslam Parvez (who made his debut sometime later), who was known as the “Prince” for his good taste in dressing, and his beautiful wardrobe, Agha Saleem Raza was only a fop!

In the early days of the film-making in Pakistan, there weren’t enough films being made to make a career for most of the producers and directors. Under those circumstances, many people invested into other businesses. The owner of the Evernew Pictures, Agha G. A. Gul invested in the race course, and started to buy and sell race horses. This business was, perhaps, kept for some time, before the Pakistan film industry started to produce almost a hundred movies per year in the Sixties. Other small distributors were trying to look for shops to buy near the Bhaati Gate and Mochi Gate.

Across the border, while the rumours of a torrid love affair of Dev Anand and Suraiyya died down in the late Forties, a new rumour began to take shape in the year 1950. This time, the Indian periodicals and newspapers suggested that Dilip Kumar and Suraiyya are taking interest in each other. Was this a reaction to the Muslim-Hindu love affair of Dev and Suraiyya? Some conservative periodicals felt that way, since Dilip had just fallen out of love with Kamini Kaushal. Watching this whole episode, which artistes of Pakistan were getting fidgety to try out that ploy in the local propaganda industry? May be, later!

Ragni was again in Bombay (Mumbai)! After migrating to Pakistan, and working in a few hit films in Pakistan, the actress with magical eyes had gone to Bombay on the invitation of producer, Seth Dilsukh Pancholi, who was making film, Nagina. As soon as Ragni arrived in Bombay, she was bombarded with new offers from the producers and directors. A film-maker concern, Social Theatres, which was making Insan, immediately called her to commit to their film. Similarly, she was contacted for another film, Chamki, where she was now playing the lead. Since then, she signed five new films in India. Most Pakistani periodicals wrote that Ragni may regain her popularity in the Indian industry, and refuse to come back to Pakistan. But, it was an undeniable fact that beautiful Ragni had acted in a few hits in Pakistan too. Her debut in Pakistan was in Agha G. A. Gul’s Punjabi hit, Mundri, in 1949. Later, in 1950, she was blessed with a big hit from Nazeer Ajmeri, titled Beqarar, which crossed a silver jubilee, and its songs are all-time hits in Pakistan. Kundan (1950), and Akeli (1951) were some of the films in the Fifties for her.

On 23rd February, 1951, a bomb of news-reporting exploded on the eyes and ears of the Pakistani public that some army officers and their intellectual friends have been arrested for plotting a coup against the elected government. This was called the Rawalpindi Conspiracy Case. The head of this coup was reported to be Major General Akbar Khan, with other leftwing army officers and intellectuals like Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Sajjad Zaheer, Major Ishaq Mohammad, and Captain Zafrullah Poshni. At this juncture, Liaquat Ali Khan was the first prime minister of Pakistan. Of course, the men involved were jailed after the trial, but it was the great poet Faiz who came out of this trial with new vigour and brilliant poetry. Faiz not only wrote poetry that became the lifeblood of all the revolutionary and left-wing movements in the country, but it also reached the common man, like Jalib’s poetry later. After coming out of the jail, Faiz contributed to films, not only stories and lyrics, but also by involving himself in the making of the cinema. Though he did not write for films as frequently as some of the other progressive poets like Qateel Shifai, Tanveer Naqvi, Saifuddin Saif, and Habib Jalib, he was definitely a key person, who encouraged the local cinema to work for progressive goals.

Farida Khanum, known as film star Neeli in the Fifties, was hospitalized for some small ailment, which made headlines in the film-crazy periodicals of the time. Not only a famous ghazal singer of Pakistan, Farida Khanum is a most beautiful woman, who was offered films left, right and centre, though she only worked in one film as an actress, titled Sailaab (1953). Remember, she is the younger sister of Mukhtar Begum, the wife of famous theatre-doer of the sub-continent, Agha Hashr Kashmiri. It’s reported that the famous character-actor of India, Yaqoob had asked Farida Khanum to come down to Bombay, where she would be starring in three new films. Thank God, Farida kept her love for music her priority, or we would have lost a most brilliant singer of Pakistan.

Azad, whose first film in Pakistan was Nazir’s Sachchai, in 1949, was now settled in Lahore, after a sojourn to Karachi for some time. Azad (real name Mohammad Haneef), a brilliant character-actor of Pakistan in the early days, was the personal chauffeur of Quaid-e-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah, about whom Manto also wrote a special feature. Azad, later, became an established artiste in the industry, whose roles in the Sixties were noticed by all and sundry. He was a versatile artiste, whose dialogue delivery was specially brilliant. It was Azad, who encouraged Mohammad Ali and Zeba to get married at his bungalow during the making of the film, Tum Milay Pyar Mila. It was such a secretive affair that even the film scouts and the film press could not get any inkling of it, before the two stars informed the press early the next morning.

Noor Jahan was to be the first ever Pakistani female director after she helmed the making of her new Punjabi film, Chan Ve, which was released on 24th March, 1951. In fact, this would be Noor Jahan’s first film made in Pakistan, since she migrated to this country. People in those days, in 1951, were talking about this film as a surefire failure. They felt that if Shaukat Hussain Rizvi wanted to make a caliber film, he would direct it himself; why would he ask Noor Jahan to helm it, thereby creating doubt for its success. Other factors of a possible failure being counted by the enthusiasts of films were the introduction of new, young hero in the film, known as Ajay Kumar (real name Amanullah), as well as introducing another chap named Jahangir Khan, who is a bureaucrat. But, some of the film press commented that the inclusion of Noor Jahan as its heroine and singer was its guarantee for success, because Noor Jahan was known as a super star in India, who hardly ever gave a flop. In fact, whoever starred alongside her also became a star. In addition, Firoze Nizami was picked for the music-maker in Chan Ve, who is a big name in the industry. So, all sorts of comments were being made in different circles about the film.

March-April 1951

At the opening of the new film, Aaghosh, which would be released in 1953, a good deal of expensive arrangements were made. This balmy March evening was filled with colourful items on the menu. In those days, big financiers and producers were hard to come by, so the press got inquisitive. But, the function was hit by mismanagement because the press was made to wait for two hours before any activity could be seen. In the meantime, the press was entertained by the arrival of the Pakistani film actresses, which made the cameras click incessantly. Amongst the actresses that honoured the opening function with their presence were Sho’la, Sabiha, Zarina Reshman (Yasmeen), and Maya Devi.

Maya Devi, who was a brand new star of 1951, and made her presence felt in Farrukh Bukhari’s Hamwatan that year, was packaged decently in a golden sari. Sho’la, the star, who worked in the very first film Pakistan put up for screening, titled Teri Yaad, was wearing glamorous clothes, too. When pretty Sabiha entered the fray, she looked like she would divert all eyes towards herself in a pristine white sari. She was received at the function by a person, whose pointy moustache clocked 8.15. He instructed her about certain things, and then Sabiha walked off in a casual manner. The press came to know that this gentleman was Sabiha’s father, called Mohammad Ali Mahiya. Sabiha’s mother was a famous Indian actress, Billo, who worked in quite a few films across the border. After Sabiha, the woman, who sauntered in was Bibbo, the famous Indian artiste, who had now migrated to Pakistan. By this time, Bibbo was in her fifties, though she had worked as a heroine in India. With a lot of rouge, she looked pretty pent up, and seemed ruffled. About an hour after her arrival, Madam Noor Jahan came in, with (a pressman notes) her fake eyebrows. Maya Devi went all the way to receive her and whisper sweet little things in her ears. Noor Jahan looked a beauty in her sky blue sari. To those she noted in the crowd, she smiled provocatively. Her husband, and famous director, Shaukat Hussain Rizvi brought up the rear. The director of Aaghosh, Murtaza Jillani came to assist him to a seat. Several female stars, who were trying to make their mark in the films, flitted around Rizvi Sahab for attention.

Meanwhile, music director of the film, Master Inayat Hussain was busy marshalling his forces, and the moment he gave the signal that he was ready to present the song for the inauguration ceremony, the people sat down quietly. But, before that the people had to wait patiently as apparently everything wasn’t ready. In the meantime, the press was concentrating on the presence of handsome hero, Santosh Kumar, famous character actor, Shanawaz, and another well-known character artiste from India, Ghulam Mohammad. Santosh looked a killer in his two-day-old shave, and Shahnawaz’s toothy smile was focused by the clickers, as well as the coloured specs of Ghulam Mohammad. At last, by 5.30, the song was presented, and this ‘take’ meant the opening of the tea stall.

For those, who thought the tickets were being blacked during the Sixties, and later too, when the local film industry was in its heyday, might want to know that the ‘ticket black’ was the problem in the year 1951, too. When a member in the parliament asked a question about this issue, the Minister of Interior, Khwaja Shahabuddin answered that the Government was well aware of the problem, and is trying to stop the black marketing of the tickets, as the investigation about this is going on. The fact is that the Black Marketing Act had already been approved by the Parliament, before this, but these acts are always for the Houses, not cinema houses! The situation was such that the day Noor Jahan’s much-awaited Chan Ve opened, in the last week of March, its tickets for the lower classes were being sold for Rs 7 per seat, although it was valued at Rs one and 6 annas! Similarly, the ticket of the popular 1949 Biblical tale, Cecil B. DeMille’s Samson and Delilah (with Victor Mature & Heddy Lamar) was being sold at Rs 3 in the lower classes.

India’s famous handsome hero, Najmul Hasan left India at his prime, and came down to Lahore in 1950. The hero, who eloped with the ‘First Lady of Indian Cinema’, Devika Rani, during the filming of Achoot Kanniya, about which Sa’adat Hasan Manto wrote that he had pulled Devika Rani from the make-believe world to the real world, did not sit idly for too many days after arriving in Lahore. Immediately, he established his film-making company, named Najmistan, and started making a film with new stars opposite himself. In the following year, Najmul Hasan released his first Pakistani film, Eid, early in March, 1951. The film didn’t do well, and the handsome hero was depressed. But, the local film industry wasn’t ready to ignore this personable and powerful actor. In the later years of the industry, Najmul Hasan became a well-known character actor of Lollywood, who worked till 1980. In India, his films include Nartaki, Daasi, Jawani kee Hawa, Anath Aashram, Kupal Kundla, Ragni etc. In Pakistan, he worked in 31 films, including Heer Ranjha, Mirza Jutt, Ashyana, Nikke Hundeyan da Pyar etc.

Talking of the release of Chan Ve, on 24th March, the film was doing famously at the cinemas. Despite its rather unimpressive hero, Jahangir Khan, the new release was a successful one, due mainly to the brilliant music of the film. Noor Jahan sang some lovely hits for the film, under the directions of the famous music-maker of India, and now Pakistan, Ghulam Haider. A criticism on this film was that the handsome Santosh Kumar was sidelined in his role of a silent lover of Noor Jahan. As regards the fact that Shaukat Sahab had given the direction of the film to Noor Jahan, the people in the know say that actually Shaukat Sahab had first wielded the megaphone, but since he could not speak nor understand Punjabi, he let Noor Jahan deal with all the stuff. The fact is that Noor Jahan herself was pretty senior in films, and knew the ins and outs of the film-making, so it’s no big deal that she couldn’t have done some of the jobs in the making. Also the fact that the film released on the Regent Cinema, Lahore was 18 thousand feet in length, but within a few days, it was cut down almost 3000 feet is enough testimony that Shaukat Sahab was not fully involved. He had made enough films to know what should be the actual length of the released film. The film was about a story of a village Moranwalli, where Noor Jahan lives. Santosh and Jahangir complete the triangle. F. D. Sharaf wrote its story, while camerawork was by Jafar Shah Bukhari, who later became a famous director during the Sixties. Music, as I wrote earlier, was by Feroze Nizami, who gave lilting score. Amongst its superhit numbers are included (i) Jadoo koi pa gaya, (ii) Chan diya totiya, (iii) Tere mukhre da kala kala til ve, and (iv) Changa banaya ae sanoo khadona.

The press is buzzing with the arguments that some film producer had opened a vivacious dance item at a studio with the recitation of the Qur’an. The conservative section of the press is writing scathing comments on this issue, while the liberal English film magazines are taking it in their stride. Meanwhile, a question was posed in the Parliament about the presentation of vulgar and provocative dances and bathing scenes in the Indian film, Sangraam. Certain circles want it banned, but the erstwhile Interior Minister, Shahabuddin replied that the issue of “Fahashi” is a matter for individual opinion. So, no need to ban a film just on this angling! Do you see how things have remained the same in our society?

The first film released in 1951 was Ataullah Shah Hashmi’s Akeli. The cast included stars like Nena, Ragni, Santosh, Charlie, Nazar and others. Nena, of course, as lovers of old Indian films would know, was dubbed Pur-israr (mysterious!)Nena, who migrated to Karachi after marrying the stalwart in Indian, W. Z. Ahmed, who later made films Roohi and Wa’dah, both beautiful films. Ragni is the woman with the magical eyes. This was the first time Ragni was paired with elegant Santosh Kumar. Also, this was the first film, where two top comedians of the time, Nazar and Charlie were cast together. Nazar was the first comedian of Pakistani films, as he had starred in the first local film, Teri Yaad, in 1948. The film didn’t make any headway in the affairs of our industry, but some of its songs were hits. The music was given by Ghulam Haider. These songs were sung by the brilliant playback, Munawwar Sultana, the lady, who sang in the very first film, too. Amongst them, there is Aaey khushi ke zamaney, and Mohabbat mein na aesa, which were lapped up by the public. Earlier, she had a great geetmala in the most popular film, in 1950, titled Beqarar, where she sang duets too, with a fine singer with a sonorous voice, Ali Bakhsh Zahoor. It was the hottest hit music amongst the earliest films, and its records sold like hot cakes. The numbers that can be recalled readily from that film, include O pardesia bhool na jana, Dil ko laga ke kaheen thokar na khana, Le ke pyar ka payaam etc.  

The debonair Jahangir Khan, who played the young, new hero opposite the experienced superstar of India and now Pakistan, Noor Jahan, was yet to prove his mettle in films. Critics gave him few marks for his, generally, expressionless acting in the big hit of 1951, titled Chan Ve. The man, though well-dressed, and with aristocratic grace, doesn’t seem to emote well. In fact, he was given more time than Santosh Kumar in the film, but impressed lesser people than expected. It’s said that Shaukat Hussain Rizvi, himself selected him for the lead role (did he want Santosh out of his wife’s hair!), and fortunately for him, he did not rue his decision, because the film did famously, despite Jahangir’s mediocre performance. Jahangir, who later became an established bureaucrat, was, at that juncture, working as a journalist in the Pakistan Times. He worked in other films too, after this, but failed to make a career out of films.

Across the border, films constructed on European literature were making hay. In 1951, producer and director, S. S. Wassan presented his flick, Nishan, which did pretty well in Pakistan too. This film was based on Alexander Dumas’ famous novel, Corsican Brothers. Sadly, the film doesn’t declare this fact in its credit, and so, it becomes a copy of the English film. Wassan is the man, who made the well-received movie, Chandarlekha before this. That film earned Rs 2 crores in those days, which tells you how big Bollywood earned even in the Forties. Well-meaning advisers and critics of the Pakistan industry were suggesting to the local producers and directors to follow in the footsteps of the Indian makers, and translate European novels, to base their films on international literature. But, this trend wasn’t popular in Lahore, although at that time, there were such educated and cultured people in the industry as W. Z. Ahmed, Khwaja Khurshid Anwar (who came later to Pakistan), Shaukat Hussain Rizvi, Anwar Kamal Pasha, Masood Parvez and others. This trend became popular in the late Fifties and early Sixties, when films like Qatil, Neend, Farishta, Street 77, Diwana, Habu, Zinda Laash, and Hamraz were made.

Farida Khanum (Neeli) bought a new Chevrolet, in April, 1951, and drove around Lahore in it. She loved to come to the studios in this beautiful car of hers. But, she was not the first film actress to buy a car. In fact, she had just joined the car club of the film heroines. Amongst its members are lovely Sabiha, hazel-eyed Shahina, earthy Zarina Reshma (Yasmeen), senior lead, Najma, and the first-film heroine, Asha Posley. It was producer, Tasadduq Riaz, who had to bow to Sabiha’s wish to be seen in a car, as other heroines were already parking their vehicles inside the studios. So, he bought her a car. After all, he had to get the best out of her for his film. And that would make him richer, as the percentage of hit films was increasing by the passage of time. Shahina was unhappy not to be the owner of a car, even after the success of Masood Parvez’s Beli, which was based on Manto’s short story. So, she took some advance from the producers and got herself a car. As for Zarina Reshman, she also got a car from the producer, Jafar Shah Bukhari. Senior most heroine, Asha Posley, who died in penury, had a torrid affair with Diwan Sardari Lal, the maker of our first film, Teri Yaad, and got a car in return.

With the inauguration of Neend by a government official, in April, 1951, the local industry gained a young and energetic director, Hasan Tariq. Considering the fact that Neend was finally released in 1959, the film took almost eight years in the making. This shows the dedication and hard work of Hasan Tariq on this debut flick. The dialogues of this film were written by Riaz Shahid, the scribe, who was to become the pride of Pakistan film industry during the following years. Nobody knew him then. A pakka Lahorite, and an avid progressive and socialist, Riaz Shahid never looked back after Neend. Those who have seen Neend will remember its brilliant dialogues, specially those delivered by Alauddin in the climax. Another person to make his mark first up was Aslam Parvez, the remarkable character actor, who played both hero and villain in his time. It’s interesting to note that Aslam Parvez’s debut film is known to be Anwar Kamal’s Qatil, with Musarrat Nazir, in 1955. But, Aslam had already given his audition for Neend in the early 1950s. So, you can see how many promising young men and women were joining the industry during the Fifties.

May-June 1951

A scintillating rumour was doing the rounds in the tinsel town Lahore, in June 1951 that the most popular, young actress of Pakistan, Sabiha had decided to leave a newly inaugurated film, Barkha. And the reason for that is a young, handsome hero, Ishrat! The film was being made by Shaheen Pictures, and its director was a famous name, Sheikh Hasan. It was eventually released in 1953. But, the rumour took Lollywood 1951 like wild fire. It was a small industry at that time, and not many news made people really sit up. The fact was that Sabiha had signed Barkha before Ishrat was roped in. As the film got started in January, 1951, the makers thought that due to the winters, it would be a nice idea to catch some snow-peaked mountains for the screen. So, they took the unit to Azad Kashmir and Marri for the initial shootings. According to the insiders, once the group had got into the thick of some meaty scenes, it was noticed that Sabiha and Ishrat were warming up to each other. Very soon, the two were seen to be whispering sweet little things to each other. As the film unit felt them getting close, the news filtered into the tinsel town, and the press got hold of it. But, much before that, the man called Mohammad Ali Mahiya, Sabiha’s papa was getting very uneasy with the whole episode, as he had gone with the unit to the shooting, and he didn’t want her dapper daughter to develop any love interests just at the prime of her film career. As things got a bit torrid, Mr Professional Papa got uptight, and asked his girl to leave the film. According to the buzzing flies in unit, this love affair was getting a bit too close for comfort!

But, by the way, just who was this young and handsome film star, Ishrat, who we hear so much about, in this rumour of 1951!

Well, to put your inquiries to rest, this Ishrat was our delightful, and debonair Darpan! Yes, the younger brother of Santosh Kumar! He had initially entered the fray with his real name, Ishrat. So, when things got a little hot, the father of the leading lady asked her to quit the scene. And she did!

Oh well, these things happen. But, the question is: Was this whole affair a publicity stunt. I mean, at that time, Sabiha had already had a big hit with Santosh in Anwar Kamal Pasha’s classic tale, Do Aansoo, in 1950. But, she was not anywhere near getting into a love affair with Santosh. So, this fling with Darpan could have been the real thing. Unfortunately, the father just didn’t deal with it good-humouredly, and asked Sabiha to leave the film, since he didn’t want her to fall in love yet! Darpan also felt jaded, as the producer was not happy with the thing. The rumour added a few more lines that Mahiya got Sabiha married quickly, so that no more trouble could infest her career. That, of course, isn’t really proved, but it was written by the press then that her husband was the nephew of father Mahiya, who was studying in a college those days. Nice way to avert the glances from the popular heroine. The producer, doing the civil thing, asked the Pop if he could change the lead, and take some other guy in place of Ishrat. At first, the father said even then she won’t work, but later, they patched up, and the new hero signed for the film was Masood, the slightly portly chap, who had just come down from Bombay. Now, Sabiha was working whole-heartedly in Barkha.

Finally, when some pressman approached the elder brother, Santosh Kumar, the handsome actor took it in his stride. Although the film scribes wrote that Ishrat (Darpan) looked haggard, and depressed, with shave of many days, and his eyes looked like he hadn’t slept for days, Darpan owned up to his love affair, and said that Sabiha’s father doesn’t agree to their marriage. When Santosh was asked about this, he said very matter-of-factly that Sabiha had written three love letters to Darpan, and gave them to Santosh on the set of film, Aaghosh, to deliver them to Darpan. Santosh confided in the press, and gave these letters for printing. Why would Santosh do this, unless he was privy to this whole plan? This proves my point that it was all a publicity stunt, and later, some film sleuths suggested it in their columns that Ishrat (Darpan) and Sabiha had planned it this way, so that their careers could take off. Probably, Darpan needed it more than Sabiha, as he had been to Bombay, and had to return to Lahore after some controversies earlier. It was written that they had been inspired in this stunt by Dilip-Madhubala love affair in India, which was the talk of the town in those days!

By the way, it could have been the mutual plan of some pressmen and the stars. You can’t just rule out this third option, can you? After all, whatever happens in the Indian film industry does get copied in Lollywood, all the time!

Of course, later, Sabiha got attached to Santosh, and they became a superhit pair on the screen, and then got married, to be crowned the most sought after married pair in the industry.

Another leading lady of Lollywood, who was in the thick of it, in 1951, was the gori gori heroine, Shammi. This beautiful Amazonian Punjabi girl was being showered with films in that year. In June 1951, Shammi signed four films. Amongst them, the first film was Harjai, which was being produced by two very cultured and educated people, Syed Akbar Ali Shah, and Syed Abbas Ali Shah. It was being directed by Shafqat Shah, whose earlier film, titled Director, was released in May, 1951. The famous sitar-player, Fateh Ali Khan was composing music for Harjai. This film was released in 1952. The second film being made with Shammi in the lead was Katari, with Ajmal, Sheikh Iqbal, Zeenat and others in it. This film was probably left incomplete, and was never released. The third film being made is the controversial Barkha, which was being helmed by Sheikh Hasan, and its music was in the able hands of Tufail Farooqui, whose career proved to be generally limited to the Punjabi films, although he was a very experienced and talented musician. As for the fourth movie with Shammi in the lead, its name is Ajnabi. Written by the able right-hand fingers of Anwar Batalwi, a known short-story writer with quite a bit of flair, the film promised good things. Munir Jillani and Fareed Qadri wrote its songs, and music was provided by the dynamic duo of Asghar Ali-Mohammad Hussain. Aslam Irani, later to be a most established director, took on the responsibility of the megaphone. Humble and graceful Vijay Kumar, the man in the lead opposite Noor Jahan in Dupatta, played the hero of this film. By the way, Ajnabi got much delayed, being released eventually in 1962, and its director was changed, and finally Ashfaq Malik directed it, while its cast was totally revamped, and Shammi was replaced by Bahar, and Ejaz became its male lead, with Diljeet Mirza, Asad Bukhari and others filled the other slots. So, out of these four signings, Shammi only appeared in two films in the end. Such are the unpredictable goings-on of the film world! During this period, Shammi became one of the ebullient sex symbols of the Punjabi films, and did lesser Urdu movies in the Sixties. Later, Sudhir married her, and she left the industry.

Literary giants seemed to have come together for Tasadduq Hussain Riaz’s much talked about movie, Aaghosh. Tanvir Naqvi, Saifuddin Saif, and Qateel Shifai were writing lyrics for the film, the story is by Manto, while the dialogues have been written by both, Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi, and Sa’adat Hasan Manto! Can you imagine such a congregation of intellectuals for any Pakistani film today? Murtaza Jillani was its director, and its music was done by Asghar Ali-Mohammad Hussain. Aaghosh was almost complete by May, 1951, but got late by a year, and was released in December, 1953. It featured Sabiha, Santosh, Gulshan Ara, M. Ismail et al.

Debutant actress, Hafeez Jahan was one odd fish. But, it wasn’t her fault that she got incensed and gave a piece of her mind to the director, Shafi Ejaz. Shafi was doing the best he could for his Punjabi flick, Nath, but his problem was that he had a complex that made him susceptible to angry repartee by the female lead. The moment the effervescent, young Hafeez Jahan used to enter the floor, Mr Director started to speak in English. His high-flown lingo probably irritated the girl, may be because she wasn’t that educated to get the hang of it, or she did not understand what he was yapping about. So, she was at a loss how to follow his instructions. But, she was definitely intelligent enough to understand when Shafi Ejaz was getting too fresh with her! That’s when the floor echoed with a terse ‘shut up!’

Noor Jahan’s debut direction, Chan Ve was going great guns in June, 1951. It was in its 12th week, and continuously taking rush in the evening shows. All those, who had clicked their tongues, suggesting the film would bomb at the box office, were dumb-founded by the grand success of this Punjabi venture. In fact, Chan Ve proved to be a great encouragement for the future Pakistani cinema. In those days, a film used to score only at one cinema, and Chan Ve was surely going for big weeks by all accounts (it completed 18 weeks eventually) at the Regent Cinema of Lahore.

July-August 1951

The famous character actor of India, and now Pakistan, M. Ismael decided to produce and direct a film on the ancient history of Egypt. It was inaugurated in July, 1951. Its story was about the Pharaoh of Egypt, and his queen. One doesn’t know which episode of history was he thinking of presenting on the screen, and which pharaoh of which period was he trying to bring to the celluloid, but the fact was that he called the film, Mehbooba-e-Fir’aun.  Now, of course, it was a pretty expensive project, and M. Ismael, one thought, would play the Egyptian pharaoh himself. But, the senior actor denied that notion, and told the press that he was going to play a very different role in the film. Uptil that time, Pakistan had not produced any historical film, except to a certain degree, Anwar Kamal Pasha’s Do Aansoo, which was about a Nawab family of India, which was a generalized form of history. S. M. Dar’s Dulla Bhatti, Luqman’s Ayaz, and Anwar Kamal’s Sarfarosh etc were all far in the future. The only films anywhere near history were the ones based on folklore and mythology, like Sassi, Sohni, Laila Majnoon, Umar Marvi etc, which were made during the Fifties. So, M. Ismael was actually taking up an uphill task. The stars cast in the film included Sadiq Ali (Prince of Minerva) from India, Zareef, Alauddin and some others, aside from the erstwhile director himself. Music-maker, Nazeer Jaffri was contracted to given music for the film, which was publicized for tunes that would be based on Egyptian music. Since, we now know that no such film was ever presented on the local screens, the project must have had been dumped due to taking up too much too soon. The Pakistani cinema, up to that juncture, wasn’t able to return the investment of the film-maker from its limited circuit. Later, we can say that Anwar Kamal Pasha, Luqman, Zahoor Raja, Munshi Dil, Khalil Qaiser, Riaz Shahid and some others made quite a few historical and costume movies in the Sixties. But, nobody dared to touch the ancient history of Egypt or Persia, or Iran, though they did make films based on Greece and Rome, in a commercial way, like Noor-e-Islam, Baghawat, Saltanat, Azra, Baghi Sardar, Hukumat, Aadil, Ghaddar etc, also during the Sixties. Only Khalil Qaiser and Riaz Shahid were able to construct some historical movies of caliber later.

Usually, heroines of the films were late on most shootings, even in those early days of 1951. So, when the showbiz reporters reached the floor of the shooting of the director, N. E. Akhter’s film, Sailaab, the shot was getting late due to the absence of the leading lady. And who was the leading lady of the film. Well, actually, Sabiha was the leading lady, but the director’s wife was in the second lead, and it was she, who had kept everybody waiting for the opening shot. The director looked very agitated himself, and he seemed to detest the large crowd on the occasion. Finally, the heroine arrived on the scene, but she also seemed to be in utter distress. Her face was distorted, and her facial creases were knotted all over. At first, the onlookers thought that the actress had to enact a tragic scene, but when the opening shot was taken, it turned out to be a romantic one. The trouble now was that the heroine could hardly emote romantically. One gentleman in the press section whispered to his colleague that the heroine has recently become pregnant, and needed rest! Instead, she was playing the second heroine, and feeling none too comfortable for it. She was named Begum Parveen.

Director Amin Malik was a very popular and prolific chap in the early days of the Pakistan film industry. During most of the year 1951, he was busy shooting parts of his new films. In the early period of his career, Amin Malik used to make propaganda films, which were mostly screened as ‘side reels’ on the big screen before the feature films started in the cinema. After this phase, Amin ventured to make his own feature films. His first such film was Judai, which was released in 1950, and starred the hazel-eyed siren, Shahina, with Sadiq Ali, the Prince of Minerva, along with Nazar and Zeenat Begum. Although his film did not hit the box office with a bang, he continued with his plans for more films. His next flick was Ghairat, which illuminated the big screen in August. The cast was Sabiha, Masood, Alauddin, Ghulam Mohammad and others. But, Ghairat, too, could not make a mark. Mind you, both films had good subjects, and were well-constructed, as most critics noted, the industry wasn’t so well-established to attract the audiences for artistic subjects.  Despite these failures, Amin Malik marshalled his wits and resources, once again, and picked up another good subject for filming, this time allying himself with the Noor Mehel Pictures, and producing and directing the venturing himself. The title of his new film was Pinjra (The Cage). Nazir Ajmeri wrote its story and dialogues, its songs were penned by Tanvir Naqvi and Muzaffar Taer, while its music was by the talented Hasan Latif, the man who was with Amin in Judai. The cast of this artistic tasveer included Masood, Sabiha, Ghulam Mohammad, Azad, Ilyas Kashmiri and others. This film was released in September, 1951. Amin Malik’s later movies during the Fifties were Deewar, Peengan, Palkaan, Kachchiyan Kaliyan, Nai Larki, Himmat etc.

Rumour had it in August 1951 that the famous film maker, Sibtain Fazli had announced his new film, and he was introducing a nubile young heroine, screen-named Fauzia. This young girl was to take dance lessons from none other than the brilliant mistress of dance, Madam Azouri, who had come down to Pakistan recently. It is also rumoured that when Himalyawala saw this Fauzia during one shooting, he came up to Sibtain Fazli, and said to him that she was such a beauty, and she had such soft and artistic hands that he wishes he could make her statue.  But, was this rumour baseless. Because no such new actress was put on the screen by Sibtain Fazli in his first venture, Dupatta, which was released on 3rd March, 1952. Dupatta was a great success, but the ladies in the film were Noor Jahan and Zarina Reshman (Yasmeen). No nubile young thing was introduced in it. Probably, the girl did not measure up to the silver screen! Or maybe, her screen name was changed to some other. There was, incidentally another girl called Fauzia, who was launched by the actor-director, Najmul Hasan in his film, Eid, which was released on 3rd March, 1951!

The first-ever scandal of Pakistan film industry was the one that was reported between Diwan Sardari Lal, the maker of Lollywood’s first film, Teri Yaad, and the heroine of that very first movie, Asha Posley. Diwan Saheb, the first owner of Pancholi Studios, was a very rich man at the time of Partition. But, as times changed, the man lost money and friends within two to three years. He got into troubled times, and many film people used to tell the stories of Diwan Saheb, who used to roam around on the MacLeod Road like a vagabond. Even his favourite, Asha Posley wasn’t by his side in those days. Some industry insiders claim that Diwan Saheb was going to her house regularly, but his clandestine ways kept him out of the media eye. They insisted that Diwan Saheb and Asha Posley had the same infatuation for each other even now, despite the fact that Diwan Saheb had fallen on bad times! Well, now, they claimed in July, 1951, the erstwhile Diwan had come out of those accursed bad times, and he was frequenting the house of Asha once again. The insiders said that this was evident since a dilapidated and dust-laden car that used to be forever parked at Diwan Sardari Lal’s office at the Art Pictures, was now regularly being seen at the gate of Asha’s house!

September-October 1951

Glamorous and sexy film actress, Shammi had been dubbed the ‘Rita Hayworth’ of Pakistan film industry. Film press and critics praised Shammi’s performances in films during the whole of the Fifties, and quite a few wrote about her beauty and grace on the silver screen. In her coming film, Barkha, for instance, the buzz was that Shammi had outperformed even Sabiha in the film. Of course, the film was in the making then, and it was finally released in 1953. The film did not fascinate the audiences, and flopped. But, it was said in the film press that both actresses, Sabiha and Shammi played their roles to perfection. The blame for bad acting and bad vibes was borne by the hero of the film, Masood, who had come down to Lahore from Bombay, and he left a lot to be desired as the portly hero in Barkha.

Throughout September, 1951, the film press was echoing with the making of Shah Pictures’ new film, Harjai. The main item of interest, this time, was not the hero or the heroine of the film. The film was being applauded by the press for the stunning dialogues of the film, which were written by a chap called Abbas Ahmed Abbasi, who was an established short story-writer of the time in the industry. His dialogues were quoted by the film people and the film press. Remember, this was the time of the dominance of men like Hakeem Ahmed Shuja, Imtiaz Ali Taj, and Anwar Kamal Pasha, who had introduced the loud and hard-hitting dialogues in the historic films, in the grand tradition of the Indian theatre of Agha Hashr Kashmiri. Harjai was released in 1952, but failed to take off, which might have had been because of cinematic faults, not flawed story or dialogues.

The film press was, these days, full of the news of the controversial matters between famous Producer and director, Shaukat Hussain Rizvi and well-known actor, Himalyawala. The two men had been at each other’s throats on the matter of film-making. This scandal was enough to tarnish the image of the nascent industry of Pakistan, and the press was reporting the infamous episode regularly. Fortunately for the local film, the trouble was sorted out in September, 1951, and Agha G. A. Gul brought the two parties together, and caused other important men of the industry to talk to the aggrieved men, and made them shake hands and bury the hatchet. Both, Shaukat Saheb, and Himalyawala were proud men, who happily came together. But, later in the decade, Shaukat Saheb was regularly reported for his free-for-all collisions with his star wife, Noor Jahan, on one pretext or the other, while Himalyawala also waded deep into a most long-drawn-out court case against the noble W. Z. Ahmed, during the making of the progressive movie, Roohi, which was released in 1954, and was the first film to be censored in Pakistan.

In 1951, it was too early to forgive and forget about the bitter harvest of the Partition. All its killings and injustices rankled in the brain. So, the film people also kept on harping on the issue. On top of it, violent subjects and films like ‘Lahore’, which was banned in Pakistan, were making some local film-makers see red. Therefore, in 1951, quite a few producers started films on subjects that either belonged to issues regarding the Partition, or the Muslim past history. Amongst them, Sheikh Khadim Hussain began making his new venture, Josh-e-Jihad, and sped through its making, so that it was almost complete in September, 1951. Khadim Hussain was the same producer, who later made Barkha. Considering the fact that the concerned maker wasn’t heard of throughout the Fifties, after his film Barkha had flopped, and his Josh-e-Jihad was never released, he probably lost heart. But, in 1960, he came back, with a new film, Khyber Mail, with Neelo and Aslam Parvez in the lead, which had moderate success. This film was also based on Muslim independence against the British Raj. Another such effort, on Islamic history, was from the Mohammad Haziq, and Inam Durrani for their film concern, Movie Pictures, who had already created a film about to be screened, named Hamara Nishan. They announced two new films simultaneously, titled Woh Chaley Ghazi, and Kashmir. None of these three films were ever heard of, and there is no mention of any entries by the name of Movie Pictures either.

In September, 1951, Amin Malik’s film, Ghairat got a good opening in Lahore. It earned well at the box-office. The film was based on the different fortunes of two brothers, one of whom had grown to be a street stalker and hooligan of the first order, while the other had no money and property, but based his life on the principles of keeping his merit and getting higher education. The stars included Sabiha, Masood, Sadiq Ali, Ajmal, Azad and others. Its music by Talib Jaffri was also appreciated. Amin Malik’s other picture to get praise was Pinjra, which was also based on a good script. It was released after the success of Ghairat, the same year.

Talking of Masood, the slightly portly hero of the 1951 films, Ghairat and Pinjra, he failed to get the same welcome in Pakistan, as some of the other heroes, who had come down to Lahore after Partition. Though he worked in other films too, like Sho’la, Harjai, Sailaab, Barkha etc, he never got as popular and likeable as the new Pakistani film stars like Habib, Ejaz and Kamal. It must be remembered that Santosh and Sudhir had also come down from Bombay, and they made a name for themselves very soon. In fact, Sudhir’s first film in Pakistan was released after Masood had made his local debut in Pakistan. Sudhir’s first film in Pakistan was Dupatta, which came in 1952, where he was the second hero. Yet, Sudhir picked up very quickly. Masood, on the other hand, didn’t appeal to audiences in Pakistan. As Ali Sufyan Afaqi  wrote in one of his columns, when he met Masood in a bus, during his early days here, Masood felt hurt that he did not recognize him. His Indian films had not been screened in Pakistan, nor got successful. Later, in his career, he got incensed once again, when the brash young local hero, Syed Kamal told him brusquely that he hasn’t heard of him. Masood’s career in India wasn’t that successful either, although he worked in quite a few films, and even worked opposite Noor Jahan in Nadan. His other films in India include Bahu Rani, Aabroo, Ishara, Devar, Nek Parveen, Pujari, Bhanwar etc. After Partition, Masood’s 3 movies were screened in 1949, titled Aaiyye, Balam and Dil kee Basti. But, after that, he sat it out for a full year with no work. That prompted him to come to Lahore in search of work.

Anwar Kamal Pasha, who acted as the hero opposite his actress wife, Shamim, in his latest film, Dilbar, got depressed after its failure. Those, who saw the film remarked that not only was Pasha unimpressive as the lead in the film, his wife appeared too fat for a leading heroine. In the presence of nubile, pretty faces in 1951, Shamim couldn’t get any attention from the audiences. Shamim, who was a popular heroine in India, was unable to do much in Dilbar. Being the son of a famous poet and writer for theatre and film, Hakim Ahmed Shuja, Anwar Kamal should have had the understanding not to venture into acting department without any experience in this field. Unfortunately, he had to learn it the hard way!

Rumours were rife that as soon as young, slim and handsome cameraman, and director, Syed Jaffar Shah Bukhari started to focus his attention on a young and ebullient heroine, Irshad, his regular sweetheart, Zarina Reshma left him cold. Zarina, as I noted earlier, was one of Pakistan’s top heroines of the Fifties, Yasmeen, who made a name for herself. With Zarina getting close to the Indian press, Mr Bukhari felt jilted, and thought that she was going for Indian films. Therefore, he cut a tragic picture for quite some time after that!

A feudal landlord in his own right, character actor, Agha Saleem Raza was one of the senior-most actor to come to Lahore immediately after the Partition. Known for dressing up dandy, even if suited him sometime or not, Aghajee had a soft spot for the girls of the industry. But, being no Najmul Hasan in this field, he did not get that much attention from the female crowd of the tinsel town. Seeing this, Aghajee turned his attention to the politics, and started listening to the political speeches of the top politicians of the country. Insiders said that he was jilted by Farida Khanum (Neeli), and the glamorous Shammi, which made swear off women of the industry. It was reported that Aghajee, being the true feudal that he was, and interested in hunting, opened a film artiste rifle club in Lahore. Funny that even this rifle club enlisted some of young film girls before the male crowd pop in!

Oh yes, some news from across the border! This happened in September, 1951. As first Nargis, and then, Suraiyya declared they would not work with Dilip Kumar anymore, and Kamini Kaushal almost left the industry in Dilip’s ishq, things did take a queer turn in Pakistan film industry, too. Santosh Kumar and his family decided to boycott the young and likeable heroine, Sabiha, after that episode in film, Barkha. It seemed that gulf will never be bridged. Surprise! Later, Santosh not only made amends, he married Sabiha, and they made the greatest film pair on and off the screen!

A true surprise was Amin Malik’s 8th September release, Pinjra. The press and the film critics praised the film, despite the comparative lack of character-building in the story. The film is based on a sadist, Vanshi (Amin Malik), who loves to imprison and control a good-hearted club dancer, Sunita (Sabiha). Though the sadist shows and says he is in love with the club dancer, he is actually obsessed with exercising full control on her. He wants to manipulate her, and wants to see her as a mannequin to his orders and directions. Both, Amin Malik, and Sabiha worked brilliantly in the film, a rosy future was predicted for both of them. Amin Malik successfully played a double role of the sadist villain and a comic in this film, which shows he is no mean actor. Masood was praised, but advised to slim down if he wants to have a good career in the local industry. Ghulam Mohammad was, of course, a famous character-actor of India and Pakistan, and he was always superb in his own style of acting. Amin Malik directed the psychological thriller brilliantly, and most of the local press compared Pinjra with the best pictures of India screened during the year 1951. It was considered the best film of 1951, plot-wise and direction-wise, despite the fact that it did not earn as much as Chan Ve.

November-December 1951

Come to think of it, after the unmitigated success of the beautiful numbers of Chan Ve, sung sweetly by Noor Jahan, the records of her coming film, Dupatta, flooded the market, and were lapped up like hot cakes! Unlike the rural feel of the numbers in Chan Ve, the songs of Dupatta had the suburban touch, and they appealed to the connoisseurs of music. These super hit songs include Baat hee baat mein jee chandni  raat mein, Main ban patang urr jaoon, Tum zindagi ko gham ka fasana bana gaey, Jigar kee aag se iss dil ko jalta dekhte jao, Sanwarya tohey koee pukarey, Sab jag soey hum jagein chandni raatein etc. Sibtain Fazli’s hit film of 1952 had brilliant music from Firoze Nizami. This album really launched Noor Jahan’s singing career in Pakistan, and showed her caliber and versatility to the listeners.

The last film released in 1951 was a Punjabi one, titled Billo, which senior heroine, Najma and Ishrat Abbas (aka Darpan). This film fell into trouble in initial stages, when its title was Meerasi. The first major protest against a local film was witnessed during its publicity, as the workers connected with the film industry showed anger regarding its title. So, the title had to be changed. Blue-eyed Ishrat, the younger brother of Santosh Kumar, made his debut in Pakistan in a 1950 movie titled Amanat. The debonair hero was paired with one of the heroines of the time, Gulshan Ara, but the film did not fare well. When Amanat flopped, Ishrat felt dejected, and believing that he would do much better in Bombay, crossed the border. In Bombay, he met G.P. Sippy, the director of Indian super movie, Sholay, who was making a historic film, AdleJahangir at that time. Pardeep Kumar was doing the lead role with Meena Kumari in this film. Ishrat was cast as a prince in this film, and appeared so handsome that people applauded him more than Pardeep Kumar. After that, Ishrat got another film, Heer, and met a very popular heroine of the times, Nigar Sultana, who fell in love with him. They soon got married, and Ishrat was cast in Mehboob’s Mother India. But, Santosh did not approve of Darpan’s scandals, and asked him to return to Lahore. But, Ishrat’s second local film Billo also flopped. He virtually disappeared from the screen for the rest of the Fifties. But, when he returned to the celluloid as Darpan, opposite Musarrat Nazir, in Anwar Kamal Pasha’s Baap ka Gunah, in 1957, he was liked. Yet, his first film to make good progress was NooreIslam, where he partnered Sauran Lata.  It was in the Sixties, in films like Gulfam, Naela, Aanchal, Qaidi etc that Darpan finally found his destiny.

Film artistes from Bombay were continuing to come to Lahore to work in the local cinema. According to senior film journalist, Iqbal Rahi, after Najmul Hasan, and Masood, the others to arrive were Sadiq Ali, the so-called Prince of Minerva, Nusrat Kardar, Suresh, Akhtari and Kalawati. Prince of Minerva, Sadiq Ali had worked in the famous Indian historic film, Pukar, but when he arrived in Pakistan, he was given small and unimportant roles. After some time, he lived in abject poverty, and he had a small pan shop in front of Karachi’s Capitol Cinema, and he died an epileptic and broken man. Nusrat Kardar, who acted opposite Suraiyya in Dard, also came to Pakistan, but he was dealt out misery, as he acted out a small-time villain in a few films, and finally, he also died a sad and poor man, who used to sit for long hours at the Data Darbar. Suresh arrived in Pakistan, and worked in Aashiq Bhatti’s film, Do Kinarey, in 1950, but his career also did not come to fruition. Akhtari and Kalawati also worked opposite Suresh in the above-mentioned film. Kalawati had worked with Najmul Hasan in film Dasi, during the Forties. In Pakistan, she worked in a handful of films, namely Tawheed, Yeh Jahanwaley, Woh Kaun Thee, Suraiyya etc.

Slim and handsome Sudhir had already worked in an Indian film, Farz in India, before he came to Pakistan, and worked in films. He made his debut in Hichkolay, a film directed by the famous Daud Chand, opposite Najma. Later, he worked opposite Noor Jahan in Sibtain Fazli’s Dupatta. Actually, Sudhir’s maternal uncle, Aslam Lodhi was one of the financier of the film. Later, he helped Sudhir with finances in his other productions too. This hit film was released in 1952, but its shootings started during 1951. Sudhir worked in many films in his career, till the Eighties. His famous films of the Fifties include Toofan, Gumnam, Sassi, Sohni, Dulla Bhatti, Mahi Munda, Chhoti Begum, Mirza Sahiban, Baghi etc. He was a regular feature opposite Sabiha at that time, though later Santosh became her top hero in film and life. Sudhir also had hit films opposite Musarrat Nazir during the Fifties. Sudhir used to play the romantic hero till Ashfaq Malik cast him as the volatile action hero in Baghi, which was released in 1956, where Musarrat was his heroine.

Some of the Pakistan film encyclopedias include two films, namely Director, and But Tarash in the film releases of 1951. Both films were produced in Lahore before 14th August, 1947, but they were claimed to have been released in 1951. As regards the film titled Director, it is included in most of the lists of 1951 films. It was produced and released under the banner of Shah Pictures, which was owned by the director of the film, Shafqat Shah. The music director of the film was somebody by the name of Amarnath (probably not Nath, who was the music director of our first film, Teri Yaad). The cast included a chap called Zeb Qureishi, while S. Gul, the wadera of Sindh, who had ventured into films in order to be close to Ragni, was also playing an important role. Other names included Rakhshi, who was perhaps the first popular dancer of western dances in our films (Azuri did not work in too many films), though later, Amy Minwala left her in her wake. But, there is no detail about the other film, But Tarash, as regards its release date. It was never released in Pakistan, but there is a film in India, by this name, which was released in 1947. Its music director is listed as Ghulam Haider, and famous Indian playback, Hamida Bano has sung some of its songs. The male singer is the popular G. M. Durrani, whose song, Ab kaun hai iss tootey huey dil ka sahara was quite famous. Mukesh also sang for it, and his song is titled Door kaheen iss jag se. Shamshad Begum’s Ae falak yoon hee satata jaey is also named. Some chap, Afzal Jahangir directed it. The cast was Pran, Manorma, Suresh, and Irshad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lollywood 1951 (Shorter Version)

Early Corruption in Pakistan Film Industry

(Shorter Version)

By Zulqarnain Shahid

In the Late Forties, when the Pakistani cinema took root, the old Lahore studios still smelled of the fire and blood of the Partition riots. When the seniors of the Indian film industry settled into the charred structure of what was then the leftover of the Lahore industry, they had to, first, equip it sufficiently to make it work.

A famous name, Daud Chand was the director of Teri Yaad, the very first local film. Qateel Shifai made his debut as a lyricist, while Asha Posley’s father, Nath was the music director. Unfortunately, none of this celebrity roll call could save the film from bombing at the box office. It was released on the Eid Day, 7th August, 1948, and was given thumbs down by the public after its first show. Diwan Sardari Lal was having a torrid affair with Asha Posley, as Mushtaq Gazdar tells us, and he recommended her for the heroine, but she was unable to exude any star stuff.

When Teri Yaad premiered at a B-grade cinema hall, Parbhat (now Sanobar Cinema), a sort of depression hung over the country due to Quaid-e-Azam’s health problems. A week after the film’s release, Mohammad Ali Jinnah died on 11th September. This tragedy, coupled with bad picture and sound quality, made the debut of Pakistani cinema the worst possible opening for the country. In those days, a new Indian film used to cost the distributors Rs 20, 000 to 40, 000, which used to run in both circuits. Teri Yaad was made in Rs 60, 000, which was bad business for the film industry.

In October, 1947, famous Indian film-maker, Mehboob Khan visited Lahore, and met Kardar. Mehboob had come to Lahore to release one of his films, Eilaan. The print of this film could not reach the India Film Bureau offices in time due to violent riots. The print was lying on the railway station, when Chaudhary Eid Mohammad, a local film-maker and distributor, used his connections to get the print of Eilaan from the authorities and announced its release on Ratan Cinema. Eid Mohammad said that since Partition has divided India into two different countries, the rights of the days of United India do not hold water. Mehboob Khan, along with Kardar, put this matter in front of the senior men of the Pakistan film industry. Eid Mohammad agreed on only one condition: he would stay the release of Eilaan on Ratan Cinema, if Agha Gul gave him the famous Indian film, Jugnu, to be put on the same cinema. Agha Gul agreed. Jugnu was a bumper hit on its release, while Eilaan, which was put on Ratan after Jugnu, failed.

The agents of the Indian film industry were indulging in foul play. India used to earn huge profits from the Sindh and Punjab circuits, and was afraid to lose this profit. Therefore, the agents of Indian cinema used to hoot the Pakistani scenes and songs to create a bad effect for the local cinema. In the very second Pakistani film released in 1949, titled Hichkolay, the planted men of the Indian film lobby went to work. Sudhir played the lead in Hichkolay, which was based on the story of Emily Bronte’s 1847 novel, Wuthering Heights. The hooting grew to such extent that the producer of the film and his friends left the cinema in a huff, as did some other people with their families. Similarly, Nazir’s Sachchai, which had a good cast and credit, also flopped.

In 1949, Nazir’s Punjabi film, Pheray was put on the screen. This proved to be the first silver jubilee of the nascent state.   Nazir and Sauran Lata were the lead pair in real life as well as the film, which was based on the 1945 big-grosser Bollywood film, Gaon kee Gori, starring Nazir and Noor Jahan. Its brilliant music was provided by none other than the great Baba Chishti. When prodded to copy from India, he never used to decline the producers.

Pakistan and India used to exchange films also in a sort of illegal way. The agents would bring in an Indian film master print, and make eight separate prints from that print for Lahore, Karachi, Faisalabad, Multan, Rawalpindi etc. Actually, all prints should come from the country whose film is being screened. Making prints in the other country is illegal. In India, the government had not allowed another print made of the Pakistani film. But, they were indulging in another kind of illegal act, and that was that the Indian distributors would bring in the Pakistani film, but would not release it, and would put most of them in cans, so that the competition was killed!

In Khan Essa Ghaznavi’s monthly Urdu magazine, Film Light, in its January, 1949 issue, a famous journalist and columnist of the era, known as Shibli B.Com, writes in his inimitable style:

“…. , in the field of film-making, Muslim investors have not come forward with complete readiness. The result of this indecision is this that very few films have been completed in the last 16 months, and not one film of any caliber has come forth. One had thought that after Pakistan came into being, men like Munawwar H. Qasim, Sibtain Fazli, W. Z. Ahmed… et al, who are intelligent and intellectual talents will show their true genius. But, sadly, those sitting on the throne of film-making were either once painters in Delhi, or were small-time publicity board-makers. What can you expect from them?”

In 1950, a film called Beli, which was based on Manto’s story, and its cast and credit was good, also flopped due to the propaganda of the Indian agents, who used to cry, “Dabba, dabba (flop, flop)!” in the aisles after the very first show. The message would reach throughout the city by word of mouth.

In 1950, Do Aansoo scored a silver jubilee, which proved to the producers that a good, original script could do well in Lahore. The reason for this success was attributed to a gentleman called Anwar Kamal Pasha, who used to be an apprentice with Luqman, and had assisted him in Shahida. Anwar was the son of Hakeem Ahmed Shuja, an intellectual, and Secretary in Punjab Assembly. He had also written the dialogues for Shahida. The story of Do Aansoo was adapted from Shuja’s theatre drama, Baap ka Gunah. Santosh and Sabiha were paired in this, their first Urdu film. Nazir Ajmeri, who had arrived from India,  presented a good enough flick, Beqarar in 1950. This film was based on Co-operative Farming, which was a very novel idea in those days, and probably, much later, India made a film on this subject, titled Naya Daur.

Some scribes pointed out that before Partition, the Bombay cinema was getting its 25 per cent profit from what was later called West Pakistan. After Partition, the Indian films continued to dominate Pakistani cinemas, and till the 1950s, 78% of the films screened in Pakistan were being made in the Indian studios, while 85% of Indian film business was being provided by the West Pakistan. Under such conditions, some pressmen wrote that the Govt of Pakistan should nationalize local cinema.

Local films continued to disappoint. This bad success percentage was the reason that in 1951, only 9 films could be made, and only Shaukat Hussain Rizvi’s Punjabi film, Chan Ve was a super hit, with Noor Jahan as the first female film director in it. Things were even worse in 1952, when only six films could be put on the screen, and five of them flopped. Only Sibtain Fazli’s Noor Jahan-starrer, Dupatta was a hit.

A senior film journalist, Safdar Barlas wrote in one of his columns:

“They were bad days. Finance was shy. There were no established producers. Distributors were buying Indian films because there was free import from India. Distributors were not interested in buying the Pakistani films, what to talk of financing them….. There was great tension between India and Pakistan at that time and it was not uncommon to hear about an Indian attack, or a financial collapse of Pakistan any day.”

In 1952, amongst the six local films released, was a film called Nath (Nose Ring). This film, along with a 1953 movie, Aaghosh made headlines regarding bank fraud. This fraud was labeled as a Royal Park fraud, as Mr Goreja writes in his book, Laxami Chowk. According to him, a person called Shafi Ejaz came to Lahore from Bombay, where he used to be connected to the Indian film industry. Due to his approaches in the bureaucracy, he got hold of the Leela Mandir Studio on Ferozepur Road, and then contacted a man called Tasadduq Hussain Riaz, for finance, to establish the Screen-&-Sound Studio. They had acquired the finance from the Punjab Provincial Co-operative Bank, as the bank inspectors were in cahoots with the film-making company. So, the studio acquired Rs 9 lakh, which was a sizeable amount in the Fiftees. The studio immediately cast three new girls and gifted them each a black car. Now, three units were given three films to manage. One, for film Nath was headed by Shafi Ejaz, the second, for Aaghosh was led by director, Murtaza Jillani, while the third was managed by Tasadduq Riaz.

When Nath was released in 1952, at the Qaiser Cinema, the whole Lahore press was invited to the first show. The film badly foundered, and this was the first shock for the Screen & Sound Studio. But, the blundering and spending went on. On 25th December, 1953, Aaghosh was screened, and again hit the pits. This made the director, Murtaza Jillani leave the industry forever. All these flops doubled the pressure on the film-makers, who used to rent the sound trucks from Shaukat Hussain Rizvi’s studio. That rent went up to a bill of Rs 50, 000. Daily salaries and spending went into a huge bill too. Now, the bank officials got worried and a court case was made against the company. All the equipment was impounded and even the jewellery worn by the heroines in the films were taken from them.

Despite all such issues, the cinema industry started to pick up by the time 1955 arrived, with the success of films like Chan Ve (1951), Dupatta (1952), Ghulam (1953), and Shehri Babu (1953). In 1953, only ten films were screened, but the success percentage improved. W. Z. Ahmed’s Roohi was the most prominent film. During the making of the film, W. Z. Ahmed the proprietor of the Co-operative Ltd, fell into a court case with one of its actors, Himalyawallah. He went to court regarding the finance of the film. Himalyawallah did not complete his scenes. On top of this, when the film was released, it was censored. As the Co-operative Bank saw no way of getting back its money from the producers, it took the film into custody.

In 1954, another controversy that raised its head was the Jaal Agitation. Jaal was an Indian film, which was brought into Pakistan through the back door by the famous producer, Bari Malik. By this time, as Mushtaq Gazdar wrote, “the consistent endeavour on the part of a certain group to restrict the import of Indian films bore fruit when in Lahore, a large number of Press and film people were mobilized to stop the release of the Bombay film, Jaal. It was illegally imported through the quota of the then East Pakistan, and brought to West Pakistan by Bari Malik. Bari belonged to a group of distributors who were the main beneficiaries of Indian imports.”

So, after this agitation by the press and film people, fresh Indian film imports were stopped by the Pakistan Government. But, the old Indian films could be screened, and continued to be screened till the 1965 War with India.

Yet, those with the quick commercial gain in their minds were not ready to work progressively. Amongst them, the first man to be named is Ataullah Shah Hashmi. Himself a journalist and well-read man, the producer resorted to a blatant copy of an Indian film, Aulad, and putting up his film, Naukar for screening in 1955. Hashmi used to publish a film periodical, Adakar, from Bombay and Lahore, simultaneously, in 1938. He produced a couple of films in the Forties, namely, Bhai and Kaneez. Still, he insisted on plagiarisation. Nonetheless, the film earned massively, and scored a golden jubilee.

Hameeda was another such film, which was a scene-to-scene copy of an Indian film, Vachan, although a well-known directed, Munshi Dil gave his name on the direction, story and dialogues. Hameeda was produced by Qazi Abid, a landlord-cum-politician, and also a newspaperman. But, this detail is half the truth. It seems Agha G. A. Gul, the famous producer, was busy stealing from the same source, Vachan, and making his own version, titled Lakht-e-Jigar. Hameeda was released first, on 10th February, 1956, and made hay, while Lakht-e-Jigar was screened next week, on 17th February, and failed miserably. The public, not knowing the facts, labeled Lakht-e-Jigar as the copy of Hameeda. Sadly, both films had Santosh Kumar as the hero, and yet, he hardly raised a whimper. Youngsters like Ejaz and Habib could not take that stand, as they still had to make their careers.

On 10th May, 1956, another cyclostyled film, Chhoti Begum was released, with Sabiha and Sudhir working as the lead. It was a copy of India’s Bairaj Bahu. It was the production of the same Ataullah Shah Hashmi. The music director of Chhoti Begum was Tasadduq, who copied some of the songs from the Indian film, and was soon known for copying hits from India.

When corruption was in full swing in the early days of our cinema, upright men like Khwaja Khurshid Anwar, Masood Pervaiz, Luqman, Anwar Kamal Paha and others were vowing to uphold their tradition of developing the nascent industry on principles of original cinema. Khwaja Sahab’s Intezaar did great business in 1956, and its melodies even gave the Indian film industry a great competition. But, in 1957, another cut-throat race was engineered by the producers through the making of Ishq-e-Laila and Laila Majnoon. Folklores being the rage those days, J. C. Anand launched his Ishq-e-Laila, with Munshi Dil at the helm, while Anwar Kamal Pasha had already decided to make a film on Laila Majnun. If any one of them had backed down, one of them might not have lost in this mad race. The Shami Pictures also began their own film, tantalizingly titled Laila Majnun urf (alias) Ishq-e-Laila, and casting comedian Zareef as the lead. Fortunately, sane heads prevailed, and the Shami Pictures backed out from it in time.

These are the early events that set the tone for the coming years, where the good, the bad and the ugly continued to co-exist in the Pakistan film industry for the next fifty years before the film industry finally paid the price for altogether doing away with the genuine cinema!