Amul Topical pays heartfelt tribute to Asha Bhosle: “Sabka dil chura liya aapne”

Amul, the iconic Indian dairy brand known for its insightful topicals, has paid a heartfelt tribute to the legendary playback singer Asha Bhosle following her sad demise on April 12, 2026. The tribute, shared on social media, beautifully encapsulates the singer's immense contribution to Indian music and her universal appeal. Amul Topical for Asha Bhosle The topical features an illustration of two versions of Asha Bhosle, each representing a different facet of her legendary career. On the left, she is seen as the quintessential stage performer, with her hand raised in her signature dramatic pose and a microphone in her hand. On the right, she is depicted as the dedicated studio singer, reading from a music sheet in front of a recording microphone. The topicals perfectly captures the essence of her versatility and her ability to touch hearts both on stage and in the studio. The caption for the topical, in Hindi, reads: "Sabka dil chura liya aapne," which translates to ...

‘I’m not a saint’: Abel Ferrara on his wild career, rehab and nightclubbing with Donald Trump

The last time our writer interviewed him, the drugged up director dozed off then asked for coke. Now sober, he reflects on #MeToo, Italian fascism and his fight for the final cut

The last time I met Abel Ferrara, he dozed off in the middle of our interview then woke up and asked me to score him some coke. It was 1996, and he was in the UK promoting his gangster drama The Funeral – which the actor Vincent Gallo alleged Ferrara had been too blitzed on crack to direct properly – and his vampire horror The Addiction. He was on a roll, his reputation fortified by King of New York, starring Christopher Walken as a flamboyant crime boss, and the gruelling Bad Lieutenant, with Harvey Keitel as a bent junkie cop. Ferrara was the scuzzball Scorsese: no matter how celebrated he became, he never shed the patina of grime from his early days as the star and director of porn film The Nine Lives of a Wet Pussy and the infamous “video nasty” The Driller Killer.

“You were the guy I fell asleep with?” he gasps now from his bright, high-ceilinged living room in Rome. He is calling via Zoom, his laptop resting on a shelf so he can pace around as he speaks, drinking from a bottle of San Pellegrino that he clutches by the neck. “You’re the guy? I’m sorry, man! Really, really.” Then he switches tack. “You let me down! You were 24, living in London, and you didn’t know where to score?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “All right. So where could we get some now?” A sandpapery cackle fills the air as he rocks on his heels. His hunched posture and jutting jaw make him the spit of the cartoon dog Muttley. He laughs like him, too.

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