Hindi
Box Office: Shorgul poor collection
MUMBAI: Shorgul, a film based on contemporary politics in the state of UP, is not the kind of subject that would interest or provide entertainment in any form. The film is a waste of some talented actors as well as the money and efforts.
In this case, it is not surprising that there were hardly any takers for the film and, in the era of crores, the film managed a poor opening on day one in the range of Rs30- 40 lakh. The film collected a meagreRs1.3 crore for its opening weekend. The film was not released in some centres of UP fearing protests, not that the film would have done much better otherwise.
The other release of the week, Kerry OnKutton, as expected, spelled disaster.
Raman Raghav 2.0, a purposeless film depicting gore and mindless violence, gets its undue publicity thanks to the makers’ tendency to generate it, in this case because of Censor cuts. Only, in this case the controversy generated publicity backfires. After an opening weekend of Rs 3.6 crore, the film added less thanRs two crore in the remaining four days of the week to show just Rs5.5 crore for its first week.
Junooniyat, a grossly underpublicized film, released unceremoniously, still managed an opening week of Rs3.75 crore.
7 Hours To Go is poor, collected about Rs50 lakh in its first week.
Rough Book remains very poor.
A Scandall fails badly.
Udta Punjab added Rs 8.55 crore in its second week to take its two week total to Rs56.35 crore.
*Dhanak added Rs 20 lakh in its second week taking its two week tally to Rs1.45 crore.
*Te3n added Rs 30 lakh in its third week to take its three week total to Rs17.5 crore.
*Houseful 3 still has some life left in it. The film has collected Rs1.2 crore in its fourth week to take its four week tally to Rs107.8 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.
