Hindi
Pyramid Saimira smells foul play in Sebi letter
MUMBAI
Alleging that a letter issued about its open offer by market regulator Sebi (Securities
“Sebi confirmed to the company that they have not issued any such letter,” PSTL said in a statement.
PSTL said in a statement issued to press that the competitors and big business interests are behind the constant hammering of its share price, thus creating panic among its investors.
“We have asked Sebi, BSE, NSE and police to trace the whereabouts of the letter. The CBI will also be included since there is evidence that a government‘s letter head has been forged by concerned parties,” said PSTL.
In the last few days, the company‘s scrip was active, on news of Sebi asking the company to go for an open offer, which the company denied on Monday. Early Tuesday morning, PSTL promoter, chairman and MD PS Saminathan said the company had received a letter from Sebi, asking to make an open offer to buy 20 per cent in the company at Rs 250 per share within 14 days.
Later in the day, the company said the open offer letter was forged and that Sebi confirmed the same to them.
In October, Saminathan bought a 25 per cent stake in the company from two promoters – NC Ravichandran and Nirmal Kotecha – for about Rs 1.4 billion at Rs 200 per share. As a result, Saminathan‘s personal holding in PSTL reached up to 46.8 per cent or 13,258,575 shares of the total paid up capital. The market price of PSTL was Rs 60 per share at that time.
Saminathan called for an investigation, saying the company‘s price counter since June 2008 did not reflect its fundamentals.
Hindi
Remembering Gyan Sahay, the lens behind film, television and advertising
From a puppet rabbit selling poppadums to Hindi cinema, he framed it all.
MUMBAI: There are careers, and then there are canvases. Gyan Sahay, the veteran cinematographer, director, and producer who passed away on 10 March 2026 in Mumbai, had one of the latter. Over several decades in the Indian film and television industry, he turned lenses, lights, and the occasional puppet rabbit into something approaching art.
A graduate of the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII) in Pune, Sahay built his reputation as a director of photography across a career that stretched from the early 1970s all the way to the digital age. He was the kind of craftsman who understood that a well-composed shot is not merely a technical achievement but a quiet act of storytelling.
For most Indians of a certain age, however, Sahay will forever be the man behind the rabbit. His direction of the iconic long-running television commercial for Lijjat Papad, featuring its now-legendary puppet bunny, gave the country one of its most cheerfully persistent advertising images. It was the sort of work that sneaks into the national subconscious and takes up permanent residence.
His big-screen credits as cinematographer include Anokhi Pehchan (1972), Pagli (1974), Pas de Deux (1981), and Hum Farishte Nahin (1988). In 1999, he stepped behind a different kind of camera altogether, making his directorial debut with Sar Ankhon Par, a drama that featured Vikas Bhalla and Shruti Ulfat, with a cameo by Shah Rukh Khan for good measure.
On television, Sahay was particularly prized for his command of multi-camera production setups, a skill that made him a go-to technician for large-scale shows and reality programmes. In an industry that has never been especially patient with complexity, he was the calm hand on the rig.
In later life, Sahay turned teacher. He participated regularly in masterclasses and Digi-Talks, often hosted by organisations such as Bharatiya Chitra Sadhna, sharing hard-won wisdom on cinematography, the comedy of timing in a shot, and the sweeping changes brought by the shift from celluloid to digital. He was also said to have been involved in a project concerning a biographical film on Infosys co-founder N.R. Narayana Murthy.
Tributes from the film industry poured in following the news of his passing, with colleagues remembering him as a senior cameraman who served as a rare bridge between two entirely different eras of Indian cinema. That is, perhaps, the finest thing one can say of any craftsman: he kept up, and he brought others along with him.
