Hindi
‘A Flying Jatt’ flies average; ‘Rustom’ touches Rs 115 cr
MUMBAI: A Flying Jatt a film with Tiger Shroff playing a superhero, aimed at children, gets an average opening response and meets with mixed reactions. Besides trying to imitate Hollywood superhero films, the casting of the gigantic foreign actor, Nathan Jones, as villain also makes the film’s superhero, Tiger look puny in front of him.
The film, released on Thursday to reap the benefit of Gokulashtami holiday in parts of the country, collects a not so impressive Rs. 6.8 crore on day one. The film drops on Friday, even as the Saturday figures remain almost similar to the opening day while on Sunday, the film does a little better to end its opening weekend with Rs 27.85 crore. The film will find it tough to sustain in remaining four days of the week.
Happy Bhag Jayegi, after a reasonable opening weekend, sustains well through the week in the absence of a major opposition as well as its simplistic and light comedy theme. The film collects 16.9 crore for its first week.
Rustom continues a healthy trend in its second week. The film, having added to the popularity of Akshay Kumar following a lineup of his purposeful films in recent times, adds Rs. 24.75 in its second week to take its two week total to Rs. 114.8 crore.
Mohenjo Daro proves to be a box office disaster meeting with a total rejection all over. A poorly conceived and executed film, its second week figures fall to less than 10 per cent of its first week. The film collects a measly Rs. 4.6 crore in its second week taking its two week total to Rs. 53.8 crore.
*Budhia Singh- Born To Run adds Rs 1 lakh in its third week to take its three week total to Rs 2.16 crore.
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.
