SOCIETY: FADE TO BLACK
On the edge of Shershah, surrounded by auto parts’ shops and Al-Mujahideen posters is an unassuming establishment that locals frequent on Friday afternoons. Regulars at Delite Cinema can be seen lurking around its ticket office as early as noon to ensure they get good centre-row seats, close to a pedestal fan or one whirring overhead to keep them cool.
But the cinema’s manager Sher Afzal is despondent about his business living up to its name.
“There’s nothing delightful going on here,” he recalls. “There was a time the entire neighbourhood would line up outside the cinema in the evening. You could see the line all the way down to Shaheen Hotel.”
The single-screen cinema was set up in the 1970s and exclusively shows old Punjabi movies — a real hit with the local Pakhtun audiences.
“We didn’t have a roof then, just got it two years ago and it was a big mistake,” says Afzal. “People would try to get a sneak peak from [their homes, looking through] their windows. You could see women and children hanging out of their balconies trying to get a glimpse of Saima dancing around Shaan as he stood under a tree or fought several men at the same time.”
Despite the low turnout, he claims they keep the cinema running to help old employees. Ticket prices range from 60 rupees to 70 rupees, depending on the day and show, and all employees get a percentage of the ticket sales.
Once thriving spaces for escapism, Karachi’s single-screen cinemas are a dying breed
As he sits in the lobby collecting ticket stubs, Afzal talks about the popular shows: “Syed Noor’s 1998 film Choorrian is a real crowd-pleaser here and we still play it every other week. Most of the films we show were made and released before 2010.”
“Times have changed,” says the projectionist, Ali, as he prepares for the 3pm show.
“People prefer to sit at home and watch movies ... what they can’t watch on TV, they watch on their mobile phones.”
Afzal describes Delite Cinema’s heyday saying, “Fights would break out over tickets on Eid and 14th August. It was glorious. Now we’re lucky if more than 10 people show up for the matinee to fill up our 600-plus hall. It’s a cinema for poor people,” he adds.
A regular customer says that sometimes he just comes to the cinema out of habit. “You know, when you just need to relax and don’t want to stay at home. This has become my refuge,” he says.
The situation isn’t much different less than six kilometres away at Reno Cinema.
It is difficult to spot the cinema located near Anklesaria Hospital in the busy Saddar area — the one-way traffic and roadblocks make it even harder to access. However, a small poster for the film currently being screened gives away its location.