The Cursed Side of Lollywood: Mental Health, Isolation and the Grim Reality

By now, you’ve probably heard the shocking news of Pakistani actress Humaira Asghar being found dead in her Karachi apartment, and her body is months old (estimated 6 to 8 months).

The actress passed away so many days ago that now her body is beyond recognition, her autopsy can’t seem to reveal her cause of death, and her skull and the back of her kneecaps (the parts that rot last) were starting to decompose. Yes, that is how long the actress’s dead body was neglected, and no one batted an eye.

No, this isn’t a fictional thriller but a real-life incident. A real rot that begs us to reconsider how hyper-individualistic and isolated we as a society have become?

How did we get so self-centred that no one in the industry noticed that an actress has disappeared for more than 6 months? Or did nobody care?

This is what Lollywood does to its own.

The Reality of Lollywood

Let me make one thing very clear: Humaira was not a struggling extra; she was not a local civilian. In fact, she was a National College of Arts graduate and a respected model and actress. She even starred in dramas and the reality show Tamasha Ghar that gave her a half-million-plus Instagram following.

Yet despite her recognition, she died alone, and her body was left undiscovered like stale food, along with discarded phone SIMs and months of unpaid rent. No friends came knocking, and no family checked in (they still don’t bother). She vanished, and it affected no one.

She was only discovered when someone cared about their rent payment and bill dues and knocked on her door.

To many, this horrific reality holds a mirror to our industry’s failure. We idolise celebrities, celebrate their glamour, yet remain silent on their plight.

Fame at the Cost Of Human Connection 

People think showbiz is glamorous, it’s just red carpets and fans. But it’s often an isolating, soul-sucking machine that chews up the vulnerable and spits them out when they’re no longer trending.

Humaira’s death should be the final straw, but deep down, we know it won’t be. The industry will post tributes, hashtags will trend for a day, and everyone will move on.

Where were these people when she was alive? Nowhere.

Even in death, Humaira was denied dignity. Her body remained unclaimed by her family. It was strangers who arranged her funeral as if she were a forgotten burden instead of a fellow human being.

And the entertainment industry has the audacity to call themselves a “fraternity?”

The Silent Pandemic No One Talks About: Mental Health in Media

The truth is, mental health in the entertainment industry is taboo. There’s no safety net, no support system, and no one dares speak about depression or loneliness because vulnerability is seen as weakness. And weakness is bad for PR.

There are no unions that check on actors after their prime. No helplines. Production houses provide no counselling sessions. Once you stop being relevant, you stop existing.

We celebrate stars, but the moment the spotlight dims, so does our empathy.

People in showbiz are expected to “keep it together”; look good, sound smart, stay positive. But behind the scenes, many are battling crippling anxiety, unstable income, online harassment, toxic work environments, and a deep sense of isolation.

When all of it finally breaks them, we act shocked.

So let’s stop pretending this is a one-off case. Humaira may have died alone, but she’s not the only one dying slowly in silence.