On a recently held dazzling awards night at the Marriott Hotel in Lahore, actress Hira Mani lit up the occasion in front of a packed room. She appeared to smile and take the bouquet in stride, while gracefully taking in the applause. Cameras clicked away, fans cheered around the globe, and headlines from the media hailed her as one the most celebrated stars of the evening.
But standing just a step away—quiet, smiling faintly, and largely unnoticed—was her husband, Mani.
Salman Saqib Sheikh, known to most as Mani, wasn’t just attending as a plus-one. He was also an invited guest, someone who helped lay the groundwork for urban humor and reality television in Pakistan long before social media took over. Yet somehow, during this event meant to honor contributions to the entertainment industry, his presence barely registered. Not a mention. Not a nod. Just silence.
That’s what sparked a quiet storm on social media the next day. A clip made the rounds on TikTok and Instagram: Hira receiving the honor, Mani standing beside her, and not a single word of appreciation for his decades-long career. The comments poured in. “Mani is a legend. He introduced satire to TV when nobody else was doing it,” wrote one fan. Another said, “Without Mani, Hira might never have had this platform. Why pretend he wasn’t even there?”
To be fair, Hira has worked hard for her place in the industry. From her roles in hit serials to her quirky, unfiltered personality on talk shows, she’s earned her fame. But it’s impossible to ignore that Mani was once the face of a whole generation’s TV experience. His shows were bold, funny, and ahead of their time. It wasn’t just entertainment—it was cultural commentary wrapped in comedy.
And maybe that’s what makes this moment sting for many fans. Recognition in the entertainment world is fickle. You can be the architect of a movement and still be forgotten when the lights turn to someone else. Some would argue that Mani’s role is now supportive, that he’s passed the baton. But others feel there’s room for appreciation without comparison. After all, why does one have to overshadow the other?
There hasn’t been any public reaction from Mani himself—and knowing his humility, there probably won’t be. Hira too has stayed quiet, perhaps out of grace or discomfort. But the incident raises questions not just about this couple, but about how we celebrate fame in general. Are we too quick to forget the people who built the stage?
For now, Hira continues to shine, and Mani continues to stand beside her—proud, respectful, and silent. But for those who watched him light up screens for years, that silence speaks volumes
