In the fiercely competitive world of Mumbai cinema, Emraan Hashmi has way to go. Called the “serial-kisser,” a reference to his liplock string in Murder, Hashmi can also flaunt his antecedents: he is director Mahesh Bhatt’s nephew, alumni of a reputed Parsi school. But he can’t get the house he wants to live in.

“I felt I had access and a certain degree of insulation because of my class but my agents were clearly told that I would not be welcome to buy a home in Malabar Hill which I wanted, as I was Muslim,” he says, pointing to Dilip Kumar’s bungalow right across in plush Pali Hill where he lives now. “Muslim stars did get the houses they wanted in the past, maybe new builders with new values in the new areas don’t share the old values of the city,” he says.

It had never been easy to break the shackles even in old-time Mumbai. Name changes were seen to be necessary by even top stars like Dilip Kumar and Madhubala. Ironically, though, while the near-negligible representation of Muslims today in the top bureaucracy or security establishment are well-known, what is less recognized is that in cinema and in private enterprise, Muslims have faced lesser resistance.

“In fields where there is no or little regulation, like cinema and sports,” says social activist Teesta Setalvad, “Muslims make it in much larger proportions. Prejudice has less chance when the market dictates and popularity matters. Look at the Khan monopoly in cinema, Irfan Pathan, Mohammed Kaif in cricket, and now even Farah Khan is away in New York choreographing Shakira.”

... contd.