They gave us the best years of their lives but in their time of need of need, they were abandoned on the scrap heap of indifference and apathy. Intelligent, perceptive, sensitive and high strung, their names form part of a virtual roster of brilliance and depth in the performing arts. Lehri, Mehdi Hasan, Khalida Riyasat and now Roohi Bano.    

Lehri, whose real name was Safeerullah Siddiqui, worked in over 200 films in 38 years. The comedy king’s very presence was enough to make movie goers roll in their seats; he was known to deliver razor sharp witty dialogues with a deadpan expression. Undoubtedly Lehri’s forte was the quip. He was known to write his own dialogues and improvise on the spot which kept his costars on their toes.

Despite being a superstar, Lehri fell on hard times after he left films. During her first tenure as prime minister, Benazir Bhutto was said to have provided him with a monthly stipend of Rs 2,500. There were continuous reports of his declining health and when Lehri did appear in the public eye, he was a far cry from the debonair comedian of yesteryears; now there was bitterness in his speech and in his gaze as he sat, hunched  and emaciated.

The only time he displayed any emotion was when Moin Akhtar passed away suddenly. At the funeral, Lehri’s face crumpled as he sobbed: “Meray ghar ka kharcha Moeen Akhtar daitay thay.” (My household expenses were taken care of by Moin Akhtar). Where were all his admirers and lovers of the arts as bereft of words, he cried like a baby in front of the eager cameras hovering in front of the maestro Moeen Akhtar’s house?

Lehri’s former co star Shabnam and her husband Robin Ghosh from Bangladesh to visit Pakistan and made time to visit the abandoned Lehri in hospital, holding hands and bringing a rare smile to the stricken actor’s face. Later, a grim faced Shabnam could not hide her anguish at the state she found Lehri in. When the news came that Lehri had died, the accolades started.

Ghazal king Mehdi Hasan ruled Pakistani music for decades with his dulcet voice andLata Mangeshkar was reported to have exclaimed; “Aisa lagta hai ke unke gale mein bhagwan bolte hain,” (It seems as if God sings through his voice). Mehdi Hasan brought name and fame to Pakistan but when his health started declining, it was his near and dear ones who exploited him by wheeling him out for hours on television shows and pocketing the money. The man with the golden voice sat alone, unable to speak, lines of fatigue on his face, surrounded by chattering mediocrities. He passed away after suffering for years and it was at the very end that the Sindh government stepped in to pay his medical bills. Where were his legions of fans who worshipped the man?

The unforgettable nonconformist Khalida Riyasat of the beautiful face and brilliant mind. Spunky, thoughtful and endearing, she held her own against established actors. During her occasional talk show appearances, she spoke her mind, revealing a quirky wit and penchant for sarcasm. The only mistake she made was getting involved with a married politician from the Punjab. Predictably enough, the man abandoned her after their relationship had run its course. She never recovered from the blow, retreating from the public eye, apart from a few television appearances.

After falling ill, Khalida spent the last few years of her life in a secluded corner of a hospital; she died at the age of 43. Why were her fans not at her bedside as she slipped the mortal coil? They certainly wasted no time in eulogizing her after her premature death.     

And now it’s Roohi Bano’s turn. A Pride of Performance awardee, Roohi’s eyes spoke volumes as she lit up the small screen right from the early days of PTV. Her mesmerizing voice and superb acting was enough reason to watch her plays as she handled every role with consummate ease.

Roohi Bano’s only son Ali was murdered a few years back in Lahore and she now lives alone in Lahore surrounded by his memories. In a recent interview  as she sobbed about her child and lack of finances, some people went to the length of questioning why she was wearing blue nail polish if she was so traumatized or hard up; undoubtedly they will be the same ones posthumously praising her acting skills.

On morning TV shows, the desolate Roohi is paraded like a puppet in front of faux tragic female anchors whose sympathy does not extend to actually paying her. People raise funds in her name and she does not get to see a penny. Her property may be sticking in the craw of some of her well wishers which may be why they are trying to appropriate it for themselves.  

In a recent interview, Roohi Bano said: “When you live among insensitive beasts and vultures who feed and feast on you but who can’t notice your pain, then sometimes you have to use special means to make the pain visible, you see. Whether, it’s leaping out of a window or crying.”

Today Roohi lives in a big house which is coming apart at the seams. Filthy, broken down, smelly  with broken furniture littered everywhere, the house looks like it is haunted much like it’s silent owner who sits in a corner, watching the only thing alive in a dead house, the television, the source of her fame and pathos.