At 90, BN Goswamy's presence was precious and prescient. He left us, as if, while listening to Kumar Gandharva’s self-composed bandish in raag Shuddha Shyam.
A century before a train pulled into a Swiss station in DDLJ—and 80 years before Sholay’s coal-fired grime—we had La Ciotat. Cinema, illuminated by its many arrivals ’n departures.