Inside one of the small decrepit rooms lining the corridor at the rear end of once-vibrant Bari Studio, posters of yesteryear actors and several wigs adorn the walls, perfumes and assorted beauty products are neatly placed on a creaking wooden dressing table in front of a mirror and some old film reels are stacked in a shelf. This is, or was, the makeup studio of Saleem Chaudhry.

Though having begun at the older and neighbouring Evernew Studio, Chaudhry, 77, has been associated with Bari Studio since 1963-64 when he came here to watch the Hindi film, Halaku, and never looked back. His almost six-decade career got him close to all the leading film stars right till the 2000s, and he has vivid memories with them.

“I was a mechanic at a motorcycle company and didn’t know a thing about makeup. After I watched Halaku, I wanted to learn how the torture scenes between Pran and Meena Kumari were filmed. I knew a few people here, one of whom introduced me to makeup artist, Mian Nazir Bombaywala from India, who asked me what I wanted to learn. I said whatever lets me stay close to the stars, and he took me in as an assistant,” the septuagenarian tells Dawn at his ‘studio’.

The veteran boasts of working with the biggest names during the film industry’s heyday. “I couldn’t work with legends like Musarrat Nazir, Sabiha Khanum, Santosh, Nayyar Sultana, Darpan because the women had already got married and I was just an assistant.”

The first film Chaudhry worked on after becoming a full-time makeup artist in 1967 was a Pashto film, Musa Khan Gul Makai, which was released in 1971, earning him Rs2,500. Though he’s dolled up stars in Urdu and Punjabi films also, Pashto productions make up the larger part of his portfolio with around 30-35 films for “being cheap and easy to produce in large numbers”.

“I have worked with almost all the actors right from their debut onwards, including Anjuman, Shaan and Reema. Nadira, Saima, Rozina, Afshan Qureshi, you name it and I’ve worked with them. We used to remain on set with the stars and they’d call us when needed. I have even worked on 10 films a day. The makeup done in salons today is what we did back then during the black-and-white era 45 years ago,” he remarks.

Chaudhry may have worked with the biggest of film stars, but the most memorable and loved for him is the legendary Sultan Rahi for his generosity and kindness. “Agha Jee

would always help the technicians without being asked much. Adeebsahibwas also a nice man. Habibsahibwas a little miser, but a great human being. All the heroines were also really good, like Nadira and Zamurad were very caring towards the poor, Babra Sharif still is.”

He couldn’t stop exalting the stars of the golden era for their compassion, especially towards the technical team. “All the stars were really nice and loving. When actresses came for a shoot they’d ask everyone for tea or if we were alright. I had the best time with Sultan Rahi, Mazhar Khan, Akmal Khan. These stars were so giving that if they found out anyone’s daughter was getting married they’d help the person without anyone else knowing; actor Iqbal Hassan helped with a lot of weddings,” he reminisces.

He also shares an anecdote from the shoot of the iconicHeer Ranjha. “Ijaz Durrani took a lot of care of his technicians. He’d feed us mangoes and milk and accordedus the same protocol as anyone in the team, whether it was the star, makeup artist or an extra.”

But, he’s dejected at the attitude of the so-called stars of today, who, he feels, don’t respect the technicians. “Since the early 2000s, actors don’t think anything of technicians, they don’t talk to or greet us or have manners to talk, they treat us like their slaves. It’s all ‘show’ business now devoid of any quality. There won’t be bigger actors than Shahid and Waheed Murad in all of Asia; these were actors, while now we have showpieces.”

After producers abandoned studios, the overall number of films declined, production patterns and culture changed and, most importantly, a paralysis attack he suffered over a decade ago, Chaudhry discontinued makeup and has been making ends meet by selling wigs and moustaches he made. “Independent filmmakers, Youtubers, TikTokers buy these wigs and moustaches. Earlier, I made Rs5,000 to Rs8,000 a day from makeup, but now I’m just surviving each day; God knows where the money comes from,” he bemoans.

Films were being produced even during the Gen Zia era, he remembers, but now studios are mostly deserted barring a handful of TV commercials and photoshoots shot there, and the veteran attributes this to a lack of investment and the Imran Khan government because of whom there’s a lot of inquiry about the money. “This is the worst era for the film industry,” he laments.

Published in Dawn, February 20th, 2022