First would come the nautch girls, the tawaifs, the girls who spent the previous evening preening into the mirror before trying to reproduce the magic of Meena Kumari in front of paid customers with “Aaj hum apni duaon ka asar dekhenge….” At that time they were the entertainers, at New Amar the roles would be reversed with these women out to be entertained. Of course, some of them would learn from this entertainment too, picking up nuances from the big screen dancing girls. Who could hold a better class in seduction than Madhubala? Who could better Meena Kumari in the gentle art of wooing with melancholy? Often though such lessons would be deemed avoidable luxury by these courtesans. They would rather watch a woman-centric flick, a film with a strong female character where the protagonist would fight social wrongs. Surprised? Not quite. The film with a strong role for heroine would be a nice escapist fare for the girls often suffering at the hands of pimps, ‘madams' and the rest in real life.
The girls would come in plain clothes for the noon and matinee shows, bringing up a decent footfall at New Amar cinema. It was only occasionally that they ventured as far as Jagat cinema near Jama Masjid to have their fill of Hindi cinema. Usually, New Amar satiated their appetite with films like Badal , Mother India and Mere Mehboob , etc. Incidentally, the cinema itself was strategically located. Just a few brisk steps from the famous red light area of G.B. Road, New Amar was at a little less than a stone's throw from the age-old Mubarak Begum Masjid near Hauz Qazi. Ironically, the mosque itself was constructed by a mistress! With hardware sellers, paper kings and brassware merchants for immediate company, New Amar at one time presented a very impressive façade. Its intricate jaali work, deep set niches and jharokhas took you back to the times when nawabs reigned, dancing girls ruled!
Stained glasses and chandeliers told you there was an aesthete behind the hall that came up in the pre-Independence era.
The cinema came to enjoy a reputation for playing ‘serious' films as opposed to masala films which usually enjoyed a good run at the neighbouring Excelsior cinema.
Strange isn't it that the presence of the so-called women of the street ensured serious films at New Amar, and their absence resulted in distilled male fantasies at Excelsior!
Delhi Metro
While the latter still continues to attract a good footfall with its retro movies, New Amar fell a victim to Delhi's march on the path of development. In came Delhi Metro at Chawri Bazaar, out went New Amar. As Metro station came up the cinema was demolished — just like Vivek in Patel Nagar — leaving behind a trail of memories. The most vivid of them being of one of Badal , a 1951 classic of Madhubala. Amiya Chakrabarty's film co-starring Prem Nath and Purnima, was a splendid collage of Madhubala's beauty, Shanker-Jaikishen's music and Lata Mangeshkar-Mukesh's singing skills. Yet when its local distributor Ranjit Singh Seble suggested the film to Sushil Kumar, the proprietor of New Amar, he turned it down as the film was in black and white, and he wasn't sure how his audience would respond. However, Ranjit Singh had his way and the film was shown at New Amar. It was no low-key opening though. The film's arrival was preceded by a sustained publicity blitz. Local rickshaw-pullers were hired. Film's posters were put on both sides of the vehicle. In the centre sat a man with a loudspeaker announcing to all that Badal is gracing New Amar soon! That a joker hopped and skipped in front of the rickshaw as it snaked through the lanes of old Delhi ensured people would sit up and take notice!
Also, the film's pamphlets were distributed all the way to G.B. Road and Bazar Sitaram! Then there were settings of the film on cinema's front for which special cut-outs of Prem Nath and Madhubala astride a horse were erected. Incidentally, the shot was from the song “Main Rahi Bhatakne Wala Hoon”, sung soulfully by Mukesh. The effort was worth it as the film ran to 28 houseful shows at the hall! Only limited period booking forced the hall to show another film next week.
Similar attention to detail was exhibited at the time of the screening of Mother India , though the film came to New Amar a good six months after it had been released at Moti cinema in Chandni Chowk. It was not an isolated instance of a film arriving here after a good run elsewhere. In fact, by the late 1960s and early 1970s — which is when it played Pakeezah — New Amar had come to be regarded as the preferred theatre for repeat run movies. Distributors made good profit, the cine-goers got to see good films on a well maintained screen at reasonable rates. Everybody went back home happy. Then came the Metro. And New Amar quietly prepared to embrace the day when death will die too. The show is well and truly over. And New Amar reduced to not much more than a footnote of Delhi's cinematic history.
