Missing: Have you seen any posters lately?

Back in the day, if you entered New Market through the 'No. 1' gate, head straight inside, just to the left of the inner circle, you would find the most renowned posters and postcard shops in the city.

During the late 80s and 90s, posters sold at Tk25 per piece were considered expensive decoration pieces for the ones who could afford them. 

Bangladeshis, newly embracing Hollywood and Bollywood pop culture fandom, had an intense fascination with a select few posters, which were some of the highest displayed and sold posters in New Market.

The most revered ones were the classics— Sylvester Stallone's 'Rambo', Tom Cruise's 1986 blockbuster 'Top Gun' and Arnold Schwarzenegger's 'Commando'. 

The fandom of these Hollywood 'Alpha Males' was competitively shared by two specific divas— Brook Shields owing to her famous role in the 1980 film 'Blue Lagoon' and Phoebe Cates for 1983's 'Private School.' Thanks to her role in 'Commando', Alyssa Milano got into the mix as well.

I visited New Market earlier in October to see if any of the old poster shops were still around. Unfortunately, my discoveries were disappointing. 

After an over two-hour search in New Market, the only poster shop I could find had been closed for the past two months.

Tracking down the shopkeeper's son who runs a kitchenware shop, he confirmed that his father's was the only active poster shop in the entire market.

"My father started the shop around 2000 and now it's as good as gone. I don't remember the last time we had more than two customers in a week," said Omar Faruq Shakib.

Shakib added that his father sources the posters from the Chowk Bazaar area, with shipments arriving only about once a month. The best-sold items are baby posters, often purchased by hair salons or expectant families for baby showers. The posters are priced at either Tk50 or Tk100, depending on their size.

"There will always be fandoms and fresh pop culture references. One 'Fast and Furious' movie will follow another. The demand for posters isn't going away."

Saomun Zaman, Founder of Artwar

In the nineties, besides New Market, another popular spot for posters was the Baitul Mukarram area in Paltan. Azad Products, now widely recognised for crafting wedding invitation cards, was once the country's largest poster seller. During the peak of the poster fandom, they struggled to keep up with demand.

"People would line up from nine in the morning until five in the evening just to buy posters. Being sold at around Tk25–30, the most popular size was 10 by 36 inches, and view cards—compact photo cards in 3R size—were a huge hit," shared Zahir Ahmed, Assistant General Manager at Azad Products. 

"We sourced these high-quality posters from Thailand. Around the turn of the millennium, people were obsessed with the idea of 'Armageddon', and we capitalised on that. It wasn't until 2010 that posters started drifting away," he added.

Before the boom, the poster business operated on very modest means. How these humble beginnings evolved is a story worth telling. 

To understand how it all started, I spoke with Md Abul Kalam Azad, the founder of Azad Products—the man who, in many ways, revolutionised the poster culture in Bangladesh.

Printing local fandom

"I don't think a conversation about the current state of the poster business will be encouraging at all for your readers. It's on the verge of extinction," said a disgruntled Azad, pointing out that even his company's oldest showrooms have been shut down in the past four to five years owing to lack of business.  

In the mid-eighties, Azad was a law student with a keen business sense, eager to make it big in Dhaka, though he was short on ideas. He wasn't one to settle for a low-paying job. 

During a visit to Baitul Mukarram, he noticed a non-Bengali vendor, speaking a mix of Urdu and Bangla, selling posters on the street. Among the posters, Azad spotted one of Zico, the Brazilian football star, along with posters from the 1982 World Cup in Spain, as well as ABBA and Boney M posters.

Little did he know, just as  Brazil's Zico was making the vendor money, Bangladesh's Kazi Salahuddin would do the same for Azad.

Then, a passerby made a joke about the seller making a good profit. This conversation sparked Azad's interest. He discovered that the seller was buying posters for Tk10 and selling them for Tk25.

When Azad asked the vendor about his business and where he could find posters, he did not get any answers and was instead told to get lost. Left with no other choice, Azad followed the vendor from a distance, almost like a detective. 

He watched as the vendor made his way to Victoria Park near the Judge Court and stopped at a store called 'Jahangir Glass House,' where he purchased his stock of posters.

The very next day, armed with a capital of Tk5,000, Azad went back to Jahangir Glass House. After a quick chat with the owner, he bought his first stock of around 400 posters, paying Tk11 for the thinner ones and Tk11.50 for the thicker ones.

He set up a makeshift stall near the North entrance gate of the Mohammedan Club and sold three posters on his first day at Tk40 each, also offering a deal of two for Tk25.

Due to territorial disputes with competitors and pressure from law enforcement, Azad had to relocate frequently. He walked throughout Dhaka, selling posters on foot at busy spots like Kamalapur Station and near the Parliament area. 

Eventually, Azad secured a somewhat permanent setup—a makeshift spot beside a jewellery shop at Baitul Mukarram. It was through this stall that a poster culture gradually started to take root in the city. At times, Azad even advertised in newspapers.

Azad credits the success of 'Azad Posterhouse' to two main factors: his posters' quality and the relatability of the posters. He was already gaining traction by selling posters of popular American TV shows and characters.

"If shows like MacGyver, Bionic Woman, and The Six Million Dollar Man were popular, I figured that posters of our local TV stars would interest people", said Azad. "

He continues, "There's no reason why actors like Afzal, Suborna Mostafa, Bipasha Hayat, and Afroza Banu from 'Shokal Shondha' wouldn't appeal to people. I knew that Bollywood stars like Amitabh Bachchan, Sridevi, Aamir, and Salman Khan would also be popular." 

To procure the photos of local stars, Azad reached out to magazines, specifically a weekly magazine called 'Bichitra', and after seeking the photographers' permission to use their photos, Azad became one of the first to create posters and view cards of local stars.

The appeal of these posters is also tied to the buyers' mindset and socio-economic background. For many, owning a poster of Salman Shah or Shomi Kaiser felt like owning a poster of Salman Khan or Juhi Chawla, as the local stars' fame was considered on par with their foreign counterparts.

In pursuit of the finest images for his posters, he even travelled to Thailand to scan high-quality photos.

Poster out, merch in

The question remains—why did the trend of collecting, buying, and hanging posters fade away? This is puzzling, considering that Bangladesh's fandom culture is arguably stronger than ever.

Shops like KNOCK, which sells pop culture merchandise, and cosplay events are popular among Dhaka's youth. While technology has clearly made fan content more accessible, other factors have also played a role.

Firstly, the intense idolisation of celebrities seen in the eighties and nineties has faded, not only in Bangladesh but globally. With social media, fans feel more connected to celebrities, making them seem less awe-inspiring. 

Secondly, many Muslim households avoid hanging images of people or objects on walls altogether. Such decor is considered by many to not entirely align with Islamic principles.

Lastly, pop culture merchandise has grown exponentially across the country. While posters were once the primary way to own fan memorabilia, today's fans have a variety of options.

Instead of posters, 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S' themed mugs or miniature models of Walter White's RV are available. These alternatives appeal just as much to fans.

Writing on the wall

As mentioned, physical poster sales began declining after 2010. Apart from the usual hotspots, a few shops in IDB Bhaban continued selling posters, mostly gaming posters, on a small scale. 

With the rise of technology that allows instant access to images of any star, the demand for physical poster stores and the business itself dwindled. 

Today, technology and a few online stores have taken over as the primary sources for poster buying, sustaining whatever poster collecting culture remains in the city.

Over the past decade, a handful of online/digital stores opened up, with 'Artwar' being the biggest player in the game with a few hundred thousand followers across social media.

Speaking to Saomun Zaman, the founder of Artwar, he believes the olden poster culture has now mostly evolved into customisable posters. 

"Back in the day there wasn't much variety. Whatever the stores printed, whether you liked it or not, that's all you had. Now, anyone can send us a picture and we can make a poster out of it," said Zaman.

Artwar, founded in 2014, also sold high-quality posters. Zaman said physical posters during the mid 2010s were thin and not durable at all. 

"We used to laminate the poster and they were sticker-like rather than a picture printed on paper. We used industry grade inkjet printers for the posters. It was waterproof and non-tearable and hence, long lasting," said Zaman.

Zaman attributes part of his business success to the convenience of his store. They rarely ran out of stock, and for many customers, commuting was a challenge—something online ordering solved.

Over the years, Artwar has seen a strong demand for superhero posters. While Zaman's business was largely centred on 'Batman,' it also thrived by offering timely, relatable posters beyond fictional characters.

He would take custom orders for athletes whenever World Cup season arrived. This adaptability led him to believe that the poster culture will not fade away entirely.

"There will always be fandoms and fresh pop culture references. One 'Fast and Furious' movie will follow another. With customisation options, the possibilities are endless," said Zaman.

He continues, "Restaurants, cafes, and content creators constantly look for decorative posters, and that demand isn't going away." 

I guess that settles it. Stars may flicker and fade, but the characters? They stay. By the late 2000s, no one had Michael Keaton on their walls anymore; Christian Bale had taken his place, only to be replaced himself. Yet Batman remained. And posters, too, will linger on.