Hindi
One-horse race Dangal sweeps box office
MUMBAI: It has been a one-horse race at the box office as Dangal sweeps the box office setting new records. The film crossed the Rs 100-crore mark in its first weekend and continued to enjoy a healthy run through rest of the week to almost make it to the Rs 200 crore mark in its first week as it collected Rs 197.55 crore.
As is the norm, no major film released a week after another big film, the film also had an open run during its second weekend which was expected to add another huge chunk to the film’s kitty and that is how it has been. The film has had an outstanding second weekend as it set a new peak for the second Sunday with figures of Rs 31.27 crore.
The film added Rs 72.93 crore for its second weekend taking its 10-day total to Rs 271.24 crore.
The film showed all indications of crossing the Rs 300 crore mark from day one following its reports. Now, despite the Christmas festival season and holidays coming to end, the film should manage the Rs 300-crore milestone with ease because it will go on to enjoy a near solo run till 13 January when the flow of regular releases starts.
*Wajah Tum Ho failed badly. After a poor first week, the film adds a meager seven lakh in its second week to take its two week total to Rs 10.8 crore.
*Befikre collects about a crore in its third week to take its three week tally to Rs 59.5 crore.
*Kahaani 2 has collected Rs 20 lakh in its fourth week to take its four week total to Rs 30.7 crore.
*Dear Zindagi has added Rs 15 lakh in its fifth week to take its five week total to Rs 63.95 lakh.
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.
