Hasnat Ahmed
(2006)

A Sad Exit              

I have never counted myself amongst Hasnat Ahmed’s close friends, but when he died suddenly a few weeks ago at the relatively young age of 54, I was sure that someone from amongst many people he had worked with and who knew him, would write a few words about him. But Pakistan never ceases to surprise you. I thought Bobby Riaz would write an obituary piece – the last time I saw a play was with both of them in it. I thought Shoaib Hashmi who writes about everything under the sun including such illuminating subjects as ‘gulli danda’ would devote a week’s Taal Motal to Hasnat’s memory. I thought maybe Salima Hashmi might write a few lines, since Hasnat was part of that hilarious team that did Such Gup, but no, there was nothing. Neither did Samina Ahmed have to say anything or Navid Shahzad. My friend and Hasnat’s tight buddy, Mohsin Pirzada who has the gift of the gab and a happy command of the language, chose to grieve in silence. Abbas Shafi, long regarded as a close friend of Hasnat also chose to remain silent. Maybe he can’t write. And this week, Shah Sharabeel expressed complete ignorance when told that Hasnat was gone. He was ‘away’ to Islamabad for the past two and a half months and didn’t know a thing. Strange things happen in this land. As for Sarwat Ali who is the quintessential drama critic, there was deafening silence. There was no get together for Hasnat. The doyens of the art scene at the Alhamra were unable or unwilling to invite a few people for a memorial meeting. Hasnat had spent many years on the Lahore stage but when the time came, the stage was empty. Nobody was able to spare ten minutes in a land where time hangs heavy on most people, most days. No, no one thought it fit to put down a few lines for a departed colleague. Instead it has fallen on me, entirely self-imposed I might add, to do so and I am hardly the right person for this, knowing Hasnat fitfully and occasionally over the years. Salman Shahid, whom I chided for this breach of actor-trust, was kind enough to jot down a few notes.

Salman tells me that the love of acting was always in Hasnat and recalls that he was an actor while at college. Disabled by an attack of polio at the age of ten that impaired his arm, he carried that arm at a jaunty angle and used it quite effectively in the many roles he performed on stage and TV. With his clipped accent and a voice surprisingly heavy and mature for one so slight of build, he was perfectly capable of the dramatic entry and carrying off a scene. Brother to Shamim Hilaly – I hope I have the spelling right, herself an actress, Hasnat, while still at college, won the Best Actor award in the Najmuddin Festival somewhere in the seventies. The Clifford Oddest play, ‘Waiting for Lefty,’ was the one where Hasnat excelled, but many will recall him in the company of Abbas Shafi and the delectable (and heartthrob of many of us) Mariam Hassan in the Gentleman Lady skit from Such Gup. It was of course Mariam who would be addressed as Gentleman Lady much to the delight of TV audiences who lapped up the social satire aimed at the emerging new but largely tasteless society that now of course occupies center stage in Pakistan. Hasnat was in brilliant company but his sense of timing helped him pull of what were on the spot, lightly created quips and broadsides.

Hasnat did various stints – what he would call jobs, but his heart and soul were wedded to the business of acting and it was this love that continued to enthrall him. He was adept at English comedies and his clipped accent was a familiar and endearing part of his personality. In Karachi he teamed up with Mahmood Masood and later, with Salman Shahid and Bobby Riaz in Lahore. He had also dabbled in the art of being a producer for television and had directed plays as well. Working with Indus TV, he was busy doing a programme of interviews called Profiles and was in Karachi where a serious asthmatic attack left him drained and weary. Rather than quickly consult a proper doctor or seek help, he rode through the scare and flew back to Lahore where his conditioned worsened and he was unable to survive the severe attack and resultant complications. Just as quietly as he died, he was just as quietly buried with a handful of people at the funeral, leaving two young children barely into college yet and his wife, Sabiha to mourn his passing.

Performing artists have a tough existence in Pakistan almost always tottering on the edge. Some make it through, some even make a great deal of money but by and large, it is a mug’s game in a society where anything of value is valueless. Actors scrape a living together, catch whatever comes their way. When some robbers demanded money from Salman Shahid a few years back, Salman was astonished and told his disbelieving audience that being a mere actor, he was probably poorer than them. He was robbed again last month, which just shows you that no one takes actors seriously. But Hasnat was earnest about his passion and happiest when he was in some theatrical crisis or in the midst of a problematic production. He had come to see me a few months back regarding a harebrained scheme about making money at the Lahore Race Club by getting sponsors to invest in entertainment at the venue. We shot a few ideas back and forth and that was that. He had earlier sailed into my office and in his most stage-like manner, thundered the opening salvo, which went like, “I want your complete and utter attention for the next half an hour.” When I told him that this was not possible, he said, “In that case I’ll settle for a coffee.” Always the actor!