The fate of countless junior artists in the world’s largest entertainment industry hangs in balance due to the pandemic
Kunal Guha (MUMBAI MIRROR; July 19, 2020)

Of all the communities felled by Coronavirus – migrants, farmers, the urban poor – there is one that we know the least about. Ever since the shooting of films and TV serials has stopped, junior artists, who usually get paid by the day, have been in deep distress. With no work for the last four months, and struggling to feed their families, many of them have been living on dole and ration packets. Some of them have been forced to find alternative employment as delivery boys, security guards or even vegetable vendors to stay afloat.

Veteran junior artist Shahjahan Shaikh is in dire straits. After three decades in the entertainment business, and with a filmography that runs into over a hundred films and TV shows, the 57-year-old is today working as a guard in Powai. Not a security guard, but someone who has to keep an eye on the rickshaws parked in a stand for the night. Watching him share a packet of biscuits with three strays who keep him company through the night, it’s difficult to imagine Shaikh has played a bodyguard, a policeman, a gangster and even a godman in films. “When I was a junior artist, I’d get paid Rs 1,000 daily. But now, I’m struggling to even cobble together Rs 200 every night and I am under severe debt,” says Shaikh, who has been featured in films like Plan, Company and Haseena Parkar, and TV shows like Kumkum and Chandrakanta.

Shaikh’s bank balance was precarious even before the pandemic. In September, his 31-year-old son was killed in a road accident in Chennai, and Shaikh had to borrow money from friends to cover the hospital bills and, later, the final rites. “It’s been 10 months since my son’s death, and those who had helped me out, are now asking me to pay them back,” he says. “We’re in such a desperate state that my wife’s sugar levels have spiked because of the tension.”

The state government’s stringent protocol in these Covid times, mandates that film and TV crews — if they want to resume shooting — must strip down to only 30 per cent of their overall headcount. This doesn’t bode well for junior artists who are often only utilised as fillers in a crowd scene or as a backdrop to the action. While crucial in regular circumstances, they are becoming rapidly redundant in this pandemic. “People don’t even gather in real life so how can we imagine crowd scenes in films and TV?” asks Pappu Lekhraj, the city’s biggest junior artist supplier for films, TV and web series.

According to him, more than 1,500 junior artists used to shoot every day. But with a handful of productions on the floors right now, less than one per cent have any sort of work. “One of our artists got a job as a security guard, with a monthly salary of Rs 10,000. But after working for a bit, he contracted Covid and has blown up his savings on his treatment,” says Lekhraj.

Mukesh Ahuja, who has featured as an extra in over 100 TV shows and films, first tried his hand at selling vegetables in Borivali East. Following several run-ins with BMC officials, who would routinely haul his cart away, Ahuja doesn’t know what to do next. “My bike and mobile are on loan and I haven’t been able to pay the EMI in months,” he says. He had even considered joining a delivery service, but opted out on learning that he would be paid only after 45 days of completing 12-hour shifts. “In my childhood, I used to make a living by selling kites on the street. But now, things are really tight and I don’t know what to do,” says the 42-year-old who last shot for the TV show Nazar, some months ago.

Selling onions and potatoes outside his society didn’t work out for junior artist Sarfaraz Khan either. “[Actor] Manoj Kumar sir would say that if heroes and heroines are the flowers, junior artists make up the rest of the bouquet,” says the 60-year-old wistfully. “We are professionals too. But without work, how are we to feed out families?” Khan has two sons who live with him in Andheri’s Seven Bungalows area. “My brother got me a room but I don’t have money to pay the rent. Sometimes, when our children are sleeping, I feel like consuming poison and ending my life,” says the veteran artist who has worked in Shah Rukh Khan’s My Name is Khan.

For older artists like 59-year-old Mohd Bashir, who goes by the nickname of Vicky, the fear of contracting the infection is limiting their employment options. “I was being considered to be a watchman at Arogya Nidhi Hospital, which is behind Amitabh Bachchan’s house in Juhu. But given my age, I don’t feel confident about working in a hospital flooded with patients,” says Bashir, who lives alone in Vile Parle’s Nehru Nagar chawl ever since his wife’s death. A month into the lockdown, Bashir took up the job of a security guard at a defunct five star hotel in Juhu, but was let go within 25 days when someone was hired for less. “I was promised Rs 12,000 as salary, but the new contractor found someone who was willing to work for Rs 8,000, so they let me go,” says the artist who has featured in over 450 movies, and has shared the screen with Ajay Devgn (Pyaar To Hona Hi Tha), Salman Khan (Pyaar Kiya Toh Darna Kya) and three generations of Deols: Dharmendra, Sunny and his son, Karan.

In the absence of shoots, many are trying their hand at entrepreneurship. Farooq Jani Badshah Khan, a junior artist for 26 years, who lives in Bandra’s Behrampada area, took advantage of the month of Ramzan to sell fruits for iftar. “During Ramzan, everything sells, so I made some money selling chikoos and mangoes,” he says. “But now, the situation is such that I may be reduced to sweeping the road to make a living. I’m prepared to even do that,” says Khan.

He has been in films and shows such as Agneepath, Company, Balika Vadhu and Mere Angne Mein. “During shooting, I would get Rs 900 per day,” he says, and then rattles off the going ‘rates’. “If I had a line of dialogue, it was another Rs 300. If I got some paint on my body (like ‘blood’, for a shootout scene), that was another Rs 300. So on any given day, I would make somewhere between Rs 1,200 to Rs 2,000,” says the 40-year-old, who’s the sole earning member in his family of six.

Ayub Khan, 52, who took to selling vegetables, blames his losses on the fact that his neighbourhood has thinned out. “Most residents in our area were migrants who have left for their villages,” he says. “Those who stayed back have either run up huge debts, or have some other problem. How can they afford vegetables?” he asks. Still, Khan pushes his cart, with potatoes, onions and spinach, around the locality every day in the hope of making a few rupees to feed his family of five children, his wife and elderly mother.

Driven to desperation, some artists are falling prey to scams as well. Ahmed Shakil Khan, who last shot for the Sanjay Dutt and Ranbir Kapoor starrer Shamshera at Kamalistan Studios, says he was approached by an agent for the job of a security guard at a tony club in Khar. The agent promised him a monthly salary of Rs 18,000, but asked him to first pay Rs 800 for the uniform that he would need to wear on the job. Luckily for him, Khan’s sixth sense kicked in and he refused the offer. “I joined a food delivery service instead, but even after slogging for 10 hours, I barely make Rs 400 because very few people are ordering in now,” says the 34-year-old who has acted in Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi.

Some junior artists are even working two jobs just to meet their household expenses. Nadim Nasir Shaikh, who has been in the entertainment profession for 22 years, and will be seen in Salman Khan’s Radhe, has been pulling 12-hour night shifts as a security guard in Goregaon. “I am looking for some work during the day as well, otherwise my family won’t be able to survive,” says the 41-year-old. He hasn’t been able to pay his rent for the last five months and has run up a debt of Rs 50,000 which he’s not sure if he can pay back. For those who already have financial liabilities, the pandemic has pushed them to the brink.

Nikki Rajvir Dulgach, 50, who has been an extra for 15 years, has had to borrow money from friends and local moneylenders to pay off her home loan. “I could pay my EMIs on time when I had work. But now our bank balance is almost zero and the bills have been piling up,” says the Mira Road resident whose husband, Rajbir Dulgach, is also a junior artist. “At this rate, we will have to sell the house, since we barely have enough to buy food.”

In troubled times, one hopes to lean on family. But for Dhanalaxmi Kapadia, there is no such relief. The 64-year-old junior artist’s older son, who is a dancer, had a heart attack two years ago that put him out of commission. Her younger son, who is a driver, is currently out of a job too. “The bank doesn’t extend loans to us and the shops don’t give us ration on credit since we are daily wagers,” says Kapadia, who began her career with Raj Kapoor’s Bobby and has since worked in films like Refugee, Phata Poster Nikla Hero and Angrezi Medium.

But not everyone is living hand-tomouth. Some artists are dipping into their reserves and working towards building alternative careers. Nishith Bhatia, who played gangster Dawood Ibrahim in Shootout At Lokhandwala, has been a junior artist for 20 years. He says that he had tried his hand at civil and development jobs as a side hustle before the lockdown. “I had decided to pick a second line of work in case films don’t work out. You must have a backup plan so that you don’t starve,” says the 49-year-old, who has been in Khakee, Babul, Bbuddah Hoga Terra Baap and Bluffmaster. He says he’s okay without work for now, but perhaps not for long.

With the number of Covid-19 cases on the rise across the country, there’s no clarity on when shoots will resume in full strength. Or whether — even when they do — junior artists will be called upon in their usual strength.

Filmmaker Hansal Mehta, who shot with over 1,000 extras for his forthcoming series on stockbroker Harshad Mehta earlier this year, feels that their contribution to a project cannot be discounted. “The industry treats them like cattle. We have failed to treat our entire workforce with respect and dignity,” says Mehta. “When I shot Simran in the USA, I saw how respectfully the background actors are treated.” Mehta feels that while VFX may be able to recreate crowd scenes, “it would be an expensive option, if not a creative compromise”. “Even then, it would only work for dummy parts. After all, human beings are human beings, and they’re irreplaceable.”

After actor referred to the late Kader Khan as ‘father figure’, son Sarfaraz accuses him —among other industry folk —of indifference
MID-DAY (January 4, 2019)

He expresses no overt resentment, but the late writer-actor Kader Khan’s son Sarfaraz’s bitterness spills through when he talks of the way his illustrious father was neglected by the film industry after he migrated to Canada to live with his three sons.

Sarfaraz said, “It is the way the Indian film industry has become now. There are too many fragmented camps and loyalties. The out-of-sight-out-of-mind mentality can’t be helped. My father always told us, not to expect anything from anybody, and we grew up with the belief that one must do what is required in life and expect nothing in return.”

However, the hurt is palpable, specially since not too many from the film industry have bothered to call his sons in Canada even after Khan’s death. “There are so many people in the film industry whom my father was close to. But the one person that he loved the most was Bachchan saab [Amitabh Bachchan]. I’d ask my father whom he missed the most from the film industry and the answer promptly would be Bachchan saab. And I know the love was mutual. I want Bachchan saab to know that my father spoke about him till the end,” said the doting son emotionally.

Shakti Kapoor, David Dhawan and Govinda were others who worked very closely with Khan during the ’ 80s and ’ 90s. Govinda has gone on record to say Khan was like a ‘father figure’ to him. Sarfaraz laughed mirthlessly, and said, “Please ask Govinda how many times he inquired about his father figure’s health. Has he bothered to call us even once after my father’s passing away? This is the way our film industry has become. There are no real feelings for those, who have contributed to Indian cinema when they’re no longer active. The top guns may be seen getting clicked with these retired veterans. But the affection goes only as far as photographs. No more. Look at the condition in which Lalita Pawar ji and Mohan Choti ji died. Luckily, my father had three sons to look after him. What about those who die with no financial and emotional support?”

Khan’s fans would be happy to know that he passed away surrounded by those he loved the most. “There was a smile on my father’s face when he passed away. I cherish that smile more than anything else in the world. My father’s final years were very painful for him. He suffered from a degenerative disease that left him completely without the will to do anything. He got the best possible medical care here in Toronto.”

Khan’s three sons live close to one another in Toronto. Sarfaraz says the family intends to carry his legacy forward. “My father has contributed so much to Hindi cinema. We intend to honour his memory in a substantial and relevant way. At the moment we’re all mourning his going. But I can assure his fans all over the world that we won’t let the film industry forget him.”

DNA (January 1, 2019)

Hours before 2018 ended, Bollywood lost another powerhouse of talent. Veteran actor-writer Kader Khan passed away in Canada on Monday (December 31) at 6 pm (Canada time) after a prolonged illness. The 81-year-old Khan was hospitalised on Friday (December 28) after he complained of breathlessness.

Earlier on Monday afternoon, Khan slipped into a coma. His son Sarfraz has been quoted as saying, “He was in the hospital for 16-17 weeks. The last rites will be performed here in Canada only. We have our entire family here and we live here, so we are doing it here.”

When he was hospitalised on Friday for breathlessness, Khan was put on a BiPAP ventilator. He was apparently unable to talk and showed signs of pneumonia. He suffered from progressive supra-nuclear palsy (PSP), an uncommon brain disorder that causes serious problems with walking, balance and eye movements. In 2017, he had also undergone surgeries for his knees.

Born in Kabul (Afghanistan) on October 22, 1937, Khan moved with his family to Mumbai where he enrolled in a municipal school and later went to Ismail Yusuf College, after which he obtained a Master’s Diploma in Engineering from the Institute of Engineers (India), with a specialisation in Civil Engineering. He taught Engineering at MH Saboo Siddik College from 1970 to 1975. And it was while performing in an annual day play that he was noticed by Bollywood thespian Dilip Kumar, who signed him for his next film.

Khan, who also used to write plays for theatre, was offered to script Ramesh Behl’s Jawani Diwani (1972), starring Randhir Kapoor and Jaya Bhaduri (now Bachchan). He began his acting career playing a prosecution lawyer in Yash Chopra’s Daag (1973) starring Rajesh Khanna, Sharmila Tagore and Rakhee and followed it up with Sagina (1974), starring Dilip Kumar and Saira Banu. There was no looking back, as he went on to act in over 300 films and write dialogues for over 250 titles. Essaying a wide variety of roles, he acted with almost all actors, from Amitabh Bachchan, Jeetendra to Anil Kapoor, Jackie Shroff, Sanjay Dutt, Govinda, Salman Khan, Akshay Kumar and Emraan Hashmi. Actors, directors and technicians, whether he worked with them or not, mourned his loss on social media.