That’s Pinto, Annette Pinto,’ said the madal player sitting with Burman in his studio.
‘Like Bond, James Bond haan,’ Burman smiled. ‘She seems to be trained for opera. I’d like to meet her.’
A few days later, Pinto arrived at the Film Center recording studio in Tardeo. She was carrying a flask of hot water.
Burman immediately sensed that Pinto would not be able to sing.
‘Do you have a sore throat?’ he asked.