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PESHAWAR, Jul 08 (APP):Once celebrated for his soulful Pashto melodies and mastery of traditional instruments like the Rabab and Tabla, Shahzab Khan now navigates the bustling streets of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa in a motorized rickshaw, which is a stark contrast to the music stages he once graced.
A native of thesil Pabbi Nowshera, Shahzab rose to regional fame through his passionate performances and deep-rooted command of Pashto folk traditional instruments of Rabab and Tabla impressed many.
But as live music programs dwindled across the province, particularly after security concerns and shifting cultural dynamics disrupted public gatherings, the singer found himself struggling to sustain his art.
“I never imagined I would leave the music stage,” Shahzab reiterated “But with few events, no sponsorship, and rising expenses of house, I had to make a choice — and I chose my family’s survival.”
Like many folk artists in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Shahzab faced the double burden of cultural marginalization and economic hardship. With concerts cancelled, music shows infrequent, and traditional arts receiving little institutional support, his once-thriving music career faded into uncertainty.
In a bid to earn a livelihood, Shahzab invested in a rickshaw, ferrying passengers around Nowshera and nearby towns — a humble job that now sustains his household. Despite the change, he hasn’t abandoned his musical roots entirely.
“I still play the Rabab in the evenings, for myself and sometimes for close friends,” he says with a wistful smile. “Music is in my blood — it can’t be taken away, even if the stage is gone.”
The rich cultural heritage of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP), especially in its historic capital Peshawar, is facing a growing existential threat due to various factors causing intolerance in society.
These factors include commercialization, poverty, terrorism, and the overpowering influence of social media that pushed traditional entertainment and cultural expressions to the brink of extinction.
Once a vibrant hub for music, theater, and cinema, Peshawar has witnessed the systematic erosion of its cultural spaces.
The closure of decades-old cinemas, hujra live music and entertainment venues has left a vacuum in the public sphere, contributing to rising social intolerance and negative behavioral shifts.
Despite producing legendary film and television stars such as Yousaf Khan (Dilip Kumar), Raj Kapoor, Qavi Khan, Ismail Shahid, Najeebullah Anjum, and Firdous Jamal, the city today bears little resemblance to the cultural beacon it once was.
Out of 15 once-thriving cinemas, seven cinemas including Shabistan, Palwasha, Capital, Falak Sair, Novelty, Metro, Sabrina, and Ihsrat have been demolished and replaced by commercial plazas and hotels, depriving thousands fans of entertainment.
The surviving theaters, such as Arshad, Aaeena, Naz, and Shama, now suffer from low attendance due to poor infrastructure, lack of new film releases, and KP government indifference to the entertainment industry.
“I was heartbroken to see the Capital Cinema where I watched countless Pashto films turned into a shopping plaza,” said Mushtaq Khan, a Peshawar native working as a taxi driver in Riyadh told APP.
He accused KP Govt for its lackluster approach towards films industry especially dying cinemas in Peshawar and stressed for its immediate reconstruction.
Similarly, Muhammad Farooq, a film enthusiast from Katlang, Mardan, reminisced about his student days watching English and Pashto films in Peshawar’s once-packed cinema halls of Capital Cinema.
“Now, I have to travel to Rawalpindi or Lahore once a month with friends just to enjoy a decent new movie experience after bulldozing of his favorite Capital cinema on Arbab Road Peshawar ” he lamented.
Even the few active cinemas in Peshawar struggle to stay afloat before commercialization. Gohar Yousafzai, manager of Sabrina Cinema, revealed that recent Eid screenings drew only a handful of viewers, despite affordable ticket prices. “It’s becoming impossible to run a cinema. Rising utility bills, staff wages, and property taxes are making it unsustainable,” he said.
Veteran Pashto film directors Shahid Khan and Jahangir Khan pointed to poor storytelling, outdated cinematography, and the misrepresentation of Pashtun culture as reasons behind the declining interest in local films.
“Quality films require a minimum investment of Rs 10 million, but producers are being pushed to work with just Rs 2 million,” they explained.
Despite these setbacks, Khans believed Pashto films still hold high commercial potential, with strong followings in KP, Karachi, and Afghanistan. He recalled how, not long ago, the release of a new film would see fans dancing and chanting outside cinemas on beatsdrums— a scene now absent in Peshawar.
“Low wages and social discouragement are keeping young talent away from the industry,” they said, urging the government to support filmmakers by removing excessive taxes and offering financial incentives.
Experts linked the erosion of cultural heritage with broader societal issues. Dr. Khalid Mufti, former principal of Khyber Medical College and eminent psychiatrist, argued that the decline in live entertainment and the shrinking of community spaces like hujras have fueled social alienation and intolerance besides negative tendencies in society.
“Our heritage from music, theater and drama to historical gardens like Shalimar and Wazir Bagh is under threat, not just by neglect but by the unfiltered content dominating social media,” Dr. Mufti said.
Renowned Pashto singer Khayal Muhammad and Bakhtair Khattak stressed the need to revive regional music, theater, and drama to engage youth and protect them from negative influences.
He called for the construction of new cinemas, tax exemptions for film equipment, and job security for artists.
Despite the challenges, efforts are underway to protect KP’s tangible and intangible cultural heritage.
Dr. Abdul Samad Khan, Director of Archaeology and Museums KP, highlighted the province’s deep historical roots from Gandhara and Indo-Greek civilizations to the Mughals and British Raj.
Sites like the 2,000-year-old Takht-i-Bahi monastery and the ruins of Pushkalavati in Charsadda stand as living testaments to this heritage.
Under the KP Antiquities Act, he said several endangered sites have been protected, digitized, and even 3D-mapped for conservation and virtual access.
Community-led initiatives in districts like Dir and Buner are training locals as heritage custodians, blending traditional knowledge with modern conservation methods.
Efforts to introduce cultural education in school curriculums and organize youth-led heritage walks are beginning to take root.
“What we are losing is not just brick and rabab but memory, identity, and wisdom,” said Dr. Samad, adding“Protecting heritage isn’t a government job alone; it’s every citizen’s responsibility.”
As KP stands at the crossroads of modernity and tradition, the preservation of its cultural heritage must be prioritized not only to revive the performing art and archology but to foster a more tolerant and peaceful society.
Shahzab’s story highlights a growing crisis for cultural practitioners in the region, raising urgent questions about the preservation of indigenous art forms and the support structures needed to sustain them.
As he weaves through the noisy streets, the echo of his Rabab may be silent — but for those who remember his voice, Shahzab Khan’s melodious voice remains in their hearts.