
Another film, Aakhri Station had Shabnam playing a mentally challenged woman to perfection. As a Bengali, she was determined to shut up her detractors. Her comment cemented Jharna’s resolve to be successful. One among them had even passed a snide remark saying such a “thin actress” had no future there. Not every heroine was happy with her Lollywood entry. Initially, she had to face stiff resistance from her colleagues in Pakistan. Backed by fine music by Robin, it was among the only three Pakistani films that stayed in the theatres even after old Indian movies were allowed back into cinemas. Her next film, Talaash again with Rahman, did very well at the box-office. Viewers loved the aesthetically pleasing film with realistic acting, picturesque background and great music. The film, Chanda, with Raman, went on to celebrate a silver jubilee. For her Lollywood debut, she was asked to use Shabnam as her name.
#BANGLA OLD MOVIE CHANDA MOVIE#
Basak had changed her screen name to Shabnam, which unbeknownst to them, marked the beginning of a new era in the history of popular culture.Īlso read : Robin Ghosh: Musician who gave the biggest hits in Pakistani movie industry On December 24, 1964, Jharna Basak and Robin Ghosh tied the knot. Romance bloomed between the two young aspiring artists.

Towards the fag end of the 1950s, Jharna Basak met Robin Ghosh, her brother’s friend, who was then working at Radio Pakistan in Dhaka and trying to find a foothold in the film industry as a music director. The film went on to become a super-hit and a star was born. That set the ball rolling and the next offer – “Harano Din” – saw her playing the lead. When the film released, people suddenly noticed young Jharna as the budding heroine. This time her father was a little apprehensive but the director was persistent and she did what the dance director asked her to do. The role was more ambitious for “Rajdhanir Buke” – the second offer. When Jharna was around 14 or 15 years of age, her father’s friend spotted her and offered to cast her for a song sequence in a film called ‘Edesh Tomar Amar’. She continued her studies at the local Bangla Bazar School. Her father observed her knack for dancing and got her admitted to Bulbul Lalitkala Academy. She practiced dancing on her own for hours at a stretch. Viewers loved the aesthetically pleasing film with realistic acting, picturesque background and great music.Īlthough a tomboy, Jharna had a sense of rhythm from an early age and she loved dancing.

Jharna, on the other hand, was the mischievous prankster and her mother often mourned that her tomboy girl had no future. Jharna’s elder sister had a mellifluous voice and she was taught by renowned musicians of the time. He was fond of music and encouraged his daughters to take music lessons.

Her father, Nanu Basak, was a keen sportsperson and a much sought-after football referee. There wasn’t anyone even among her distant relatives who were into movies. No Partition or boundaries marked by barbed wires could stall her flight to fame.īasak was born on August 17, 1942, in former East Pakistan. There, she took up the Muslim name of Shabnam and eventually went on to rule the Pakistan film industry for 31 years! We in India never tire of bragging about our reigning divas of Tollywood and Bollywood film industry during the golden years of Indian cinema including superstars like Devika Rani, Kanan Devi, Padma Devi, Suchitra Sen, Supriya Chowdhury and many others but most of us are ignorant about the first Bengali superstar of the continent who ruled both the Pakistan as well as Bangladeshi film industry.

A Bangladeshi Hindu by birth, Jharna Basak had migrated to Pakistan in 1968. Yes, she was the first superstar of the subcontinent with 180 Urdu and Bengali films in her kitty. He recognized her immediately and his bright, smiling eyes said the rest. Hassan looked at her and there was a sudden change in his expression. She entered the cabin and stood before the singer with the haunting baritone. Her gait and poise made heads turn and there was an aura that surrounded her cool, confident movement. A tall, stunning lady walked in regally towards the cabin. The dull monotony of the silent hospital corridor was suddenly disrupted following a commotion outside the cabin. A major cerebral stroke had left the great maestro paralyzed. His dulcet voice had betrayed him as had his body. The ‘Shahenshah-e-Ghazal’ (Emperor of Ghazal), Mehdi Hassan Khan breathed heavily as he lay motionless on his hospital bed and the moments ticked away.
