Photography: Fayyaz Ahmed | Coordination: Madeeha Syed
Haroon Shahid is on the verge of super stardom. At least that’s what it seems. I meet him at the hotel he’s staying at during the pre-release promotions of his film Verna. After doing back-to-back marathon interviews with several journalists and bloggers throughout the day with his co-star Mahira Khan, he is ready to unwind. He hasn’t changed much in the past 10 years or so since I first saw him as a new underground musician hanging out at Mekaal Hasan’s studio in Lahore, but much has changed around him. Before we even begin, he’s making phone calls to arrange a gaming console, for an intense match with his cousin who is to arrive soon.
Watching Haroon Shahid in the trailer of Verna took me back nine years ago when he was in Karachi for Pakistan Sangeet Icon (PSI), a music competition/reality show on MTV in 2008. “I was literally that kid from a small city that goes to the big city because he wants to become a star,” says Haroon. “It was culture shock. I’d moved into a house with 12 other singers, all from different backgrounds and each with their own story. You realise how different you are from all of them, and that everyone shares the same dream, but not everyone gets it.” I ask if he thought he was going to get it. “Har kisi ko mukammal jahan nahin milta [no one gets everything],” he responds, quoting a line from his song Koi Labda. “I got the idea then that everybody is striving for something but kuch na kuch hamesha reh jata hai [something or the other remains unfulfilled]. And you’re always looking for that.” Haroon wrote most of his first album while holed up in that house in Karachi, including putting the final touches on his cover of the Naseebo Lal number, Pyaar Di Ganderi. At PSI, he would go on to shock the judges by his performance of the racy Noori song Kutte Te Tho Uttay. Haroon did not win, but he did get noticed.
“For me, it was life-changing,” he narrates. “This was a big city. I had left my studies to do this. I thought it was an okay show and nobody would really give a [bleep] about it. But people did — Dr Rafat Siddiqi [From Lips 360] invested in my music, gave me an album deal and produced my music videos.”
Haroon Shahid talks to Icon about his transition from being a musician to working as an actor in one of the most eagerly awaited films of the year, Verna
MUSIC FLASHBACK
Haroon had just made his mark in the Lahore underground music scene with his band Symt and had earned the nickname Haroon5 courtesy the ‘Mahraj’ — Mekaal Hasan — owing to his covers of Maroon5 and the uncanny similarity his vocal tone had to the band’s lead singer, Adam Levine. But it’s been a decade since then. Does anyone call him Haroon5 anymore? “Mahira just did the other day,” he laughs. “She met Ali Azmat who told her.”
We’ve all grown up since then. Long-time friend, RJ and actor Ali Safina, who hosted PSI, has settled down with model and actor Hira Tareen, Waqar ‘Wacky’ Khan (drummer from Entity Paradigm) who often played with Symt got married and moved to the United States only to return recently for the re-reunion of EP, Mekaal Hasan settled down with model and actor Rubya Chaudhry.
And, as seems to be the trend among our leading men in film, Haroon married his college sweetheart Palwashey Arbab. They now have an adorable son, Musa. I’m told fatherhood was something he couldn’t wait for. “I found the most wonderful girl,” he says, “She’s been through everything with me. When I was offered this film [Verna] I was worried I’d have to take four months off work. If I do that, how are we going to pay our bills? My wife slipped her bank card into my wallet and told me, ‘If you need any money, it’s here. I’ll take care of everything. This is your dream. Pursue it. And nail it.’”
“I’m lucky,” he adds. “We’re [Ali Zafar, Fawad Khan etc] all lucky. Our partners have helped us become who we are today.”
Haroon had just made his mark in the Lahore underground music scene with his band Symt and had earned the nickname Haroon5 courtesy the ‘Mahraj’ — Mekaal Hasan — owing to his covers of Maroon5 and the uncanny similarity his vocal tone had to the band’s lead singer, Adam Levine. But it’s been a decade since then. Does anyone call him Haroon5 anymore? “Mahira just did the other day,” he laughs. “She met Ali Azmat who told her.”
DAYS OF DHARNAS
A memory of Haroon that stands out is of sitting across from him in a café in Islamabad in 2014. This was around the time Imran Khan was holding his dharnas [sit-ins] in the capital. From the rooftop of my guest house, several blocks away from the dharna site, we could see the lights and hear the songs and speeches that were being performed and delivered all night. Even from a distance one could hear the screams of the protestors on the night the authorities used tear gas against them. The lights went out and military helicopters were flying overhead. It was surreal, like a scene out of a movie. Within a few minutes I felt my eyes burn and throat close up — tear gas had spread several blocks out and reached us. We ran inside but it felt awful. If it was this bad for us, how was it for the protestors? My concern shifted to the one person I knew would be there: Haroon Shahid.
Sitting across from me at the café, Haroon’s eyes were red and he could barely speak. He looked tired and shell-shocked. The events of the night before were overwhelming — tear gas, confusion, helping friends and trying to find a way out. The one thing he kept saying was, “You don’t know what we’re trying to do here.”
How does he feel now? “That was life-changing,” he says. Would he do it again? “Yes,” comes the immediate response. Celebrities generally prefer to remain apolitical. Is he concerned that his political leanings will alienate his fan base or affect his career? “Why should it?” he responds defensively. “Jang hi meri yahi hai [that’s what I’m fighting for]. I’m not going to give up on what I believe is good for my people and country. I just have an opinion. I’m not going out with a gun and putting it to your head, beating you up or forcing you to follow me.
“The difference between me and Hamza [Ali Abbasi] is that I prefer to stand in the crowd. I would get calls to perform but I don’t want to be on the stage. I want to be on the ground. I want to be with the people, standing where everybody else is standing.”
SHOAIB MANSOOR & SIGNS
What is it like working with Shoaib Mansoor? Haroon’s eyes light up. “It’s a dream come true,” he says. To emphasise its significance, he relates how he was eight years old when he attended his first Vital Signs concert in Karachi with his mum. “The whole band was wearing black,” he says. “I remember seeing Aamir Zaki play the guitar, holding it behind his head, and thought ‘Wow. I want to be a rock star!’ The core Vital Signs — Shahi [Shahzad Hasan], Junaid [Jamshed], Rohail [Hyatt] and Shoaib Mansoor — never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d work with any of them.”
Haroon was featured on the fifth and ninth season of Coke Studio. “When you are used to coming on CS during Rohail’s time … Season Nine ki woh feeling hi nahin thee [Season Nine didn’t have that feeling],” he says. Rohail Hyatt stopped producing CS after its sixth season.