Hindi
‘Maximum’ disaster at BO
MUMBAI: Maximum, the film lacking on all counts from face value to content, became a disaster at the box office. The film managed to collect just about Rs 13 million over its opening weekend and its run may be curtailed today onwards for want of patrons.
Teri Meri Kahaani remained poor at the box office and will fall far short of its high price of Rs 480 million for its domestic theatrical, satellite and audio rights; a grossly bad bargain for Wave Pictures. All the recovery that the film could muster pre-release was of Rs 40 million from audio rights and sale of two small circuits. The film has collected Rs 234.5 million in its first week with second weekend adding another Rs 35 million. The projected loss is over 50 per cent of investment as the prospects of decent recovery from the satellite rights have dwindled greatly.
Gangs of Wasseypur has found its audience in some adventurous and curious few as it collected Rs 171 million in its first week; the curiosity tapered as the second weekend ended with figures of Rs 38 million.
Ferrari KI Sawaari, which had collected Rs 177 million in its first week, added Rs 63 million in week two to take its total to Rs 241 million.
Shanghai managed to collect only Rs 4 million in its third week, taking its tally to Rs 234 million.
Rowdy Rathore maintained steady collections; with a figure of Rs 35.5 million in its fourth week, the film has so far collected Rs 1.34 billion.
Vicky Donor collected Rs 1.1 million in its 10th week. Its net at the box office stands at Rs 419.5 million.
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.
