Mic drop
I can't remember when I first heard, or heard of, Asha Bhosle, a sentiment surely shared by many. To us, she has always been around, such is the aura and ubiquity of her voice. As a schoolboy I, too, grew up through the era of Teesri Manzil, Pyar Ka Mausam, Jewel Thief and so many other movies whose scores are now considered classics.
Yet, the full import of what made Asha a brilliant singer landed with a jolt when I attended a recording in the early 1970s, of a duet of her and Shailendra Singh for Zehreela Insaan. At first, she hummed, rather vaguely, as she was taught the tune by RD Burman over a harmonium. But when seated in the monitor room, and as I listened to the take, I understood what made her such a consummate professional. The diction, 'throw', and pitch perfect rendition had the effect of being knocked out cold by a melodious sledgehammer, if there was such a thing. And this, in an era of pure live recordings with no autotune or post-production tweaking.
Asha is acknowledged as the world's most recorded artiste based on accurately compiled statistics. Although many of these songs of the 1950s-60s were either in Marathi (she made near-daily treks to Pune regularly for recordings), or from production houses not considered A-grade (such as 'stunt' and mythological movies) for her, that never did translate into an 'another day-at the office' attitude. Her singing remained as flawless and sincere as ever.
When I moved to Dubai in the 1980s and began writing freelance for a local newspaper, this avatar as a reporter made it easier to gain access to celebrities who often visited for concerts. I summoned up courage to ask Asha-ji if I could meet her at her hotel during one such concert visit, and was incredulous when she directly said, 'Come over.'
In person, she induces a strange paradoxical feeling. She is so disarmingly normal that you need to constantly remind yourself you're in the presence of a giant artist and should, therefore, be awestruck and tongue-tied. Yet, you aren't.
Some years later in 2002, her restaurant, Asha's, the first of a franchise, opened at Dubai's Wafi City, the menu of which included several of Asha's own recipes, as well as those of her mother and of saxophonist Manohari Singh. In keeping with its lounge ethos, the music at Asha's was appropriate but nondescript. A friend of mine and I decided they should stock a good number of Asha songs in their system. Consequently, we presented Asha and Manohari with a large number of mp3s of her songs. In response she threw a lavish lunch.
Also Read | Asha Bhosle passes away: The journey of the veteran singer who defined the voice of Bollywood
Over the course of several more meetings with her in Dubai which she visited frequently, I learned that she retained clear memories of many of her songs, no mean feat given her prodigious output.
She could also be fun-loving and teasing, yet never was she flippant when asked a genuine question. In response to my question about whether she took special precautions to care for her voice, she thought for a moment, and said, 'The usual - I avoid very cold, very spicy, or very sour food, and drink especially when I have a show or recording planned.'
She was a strong-willed and tough person, having risen to the top by dint of sheer hard work and perseverance, always game to reinvent herself in keeping with changing times. She performed concerts with famous bands in Europe and the US - conceding that Indian violinists are more skilled. Indefatigable to the end, she performed to a sellout crowd in Dubai to mark her 90th birthday.
Yet, in conversation she was always childlike, and her humility was innate and natural. She had remarked, 'I'm so lucky I got to sing in an era of such great names such as Lata Mangeshkar, Mohammed Rafi and Kishore Kumar' - as though she was any less.
Her passing is an event of great sadness. But for all of us, there will also be adoration and gratitude. Her songs number in the thousands. So, there will always be a new 'old' song for even the biggest fan to discover.
Also Read | Asha Bhosle chose memory over goodbye after RD Burman’s death. The reason why she could not enter his bedroom
Determined not to be in the shadow of her older sister, Lata, she had often said that she needed to carve out her own image and style, a feat she accomplished so successfully that even Lata admitted, 'I could never sing her songs.' By virtue of her persona, and the kind of songs she sang - and did not sing - Lata inspired reverence, and a respectful distance in a listener. In Asha, the message was always one of fun, humour and affection.
In life, as in her music, she never let the pain show. To paraphrase what Emerson said of Lincoln, her heart was as great as the world, but there was no room in it to hold the memory of a wrong.
Yet, the full import of what made Asha a brilliant singer landed with a jolt when I attended a recording in the early 1970s, of a duet of her and Shailendra Singh for Zehreela Insaan. At first, she hummed, rather vaguely, as she was taught the tune by RD Burman over a harmonium. But when seated in the monitor room, and as I listened to the take, I understood what made her such a consummate professional. The diction, 'throw', and pitch perfect rendition had the effect of being knocked out cold by a melodious sledgehammer, if there was such a thing. And this, in an era of pure live recordings with no autotune or post-production tweaking.
Asha is acknowledged as the world's most recorded artiste based on accurately compiled statistics. Although many of these songs of the 1950s-60s were either in Marathi (she made near-daily treks to Pune regularly for recordings), or from production houses not considered A-grade (such as 'stunt' and mythological movies) for her, that never did translate into an 'another day-at the office' attitude. Her singing remained as flawless and sincere as ever.
When I moved to Dubai in the 1980s and began writing freelance for a local newspaper, this avatar as a reporter made it easier to gain access to celebrities who often visited for concerts. I summoned up courage to ask Asha-ji if I could meet her at her hotel during one such concert visit, and was incredulous when she directly said, 'Come over.'
Determined not to be in the shadow of her older sister, Lata, she had often said that she needed to carve out her own image and style
In person, she induces a strange paradoxical feeling. She is so disarmingly normal that you need to constantly remind yourself you're in the presence of a giant artist and should, therefore, be awestruck and tongue-tied. Yet, you aren't.
Some years later in 2002, her restaurant, Asha's, the first of a franchise, opened at Dubai's Wafi City, the menu of which included several of Asha's own recipes, as well as those of her mother and of saxophonist Manohari Singh. In keeping with its lounge ethos, the music at Asha's was appropriate but nondescript. A friend of mine and I decided they should stock a good number of Asha songs in their system. Consequently, we presented Asha and Manohari with a large number of mp3s of her songs. In response she threw a lavish lunch.
Also Read | Asha Bhosle passes away: The journey of the veteran singer who defined the voice of Bollywood
Over the course of several more meetings with her in Dubai which she visited frequently, I learned that she retained clear memories of many of her songs, no mean feat given her prodigious output.
She could also be fun-loving and teasing, yet never was she flippant when asked a genuine question. In response to my question about whether she took special precautions to care for her voice, she thought for a moment, and said, 'The usual - I avoid very cold, very spicy, or very sour food, and drink especially when I have a show or recording planned.'
Her diction, ‘throw’, and pitch perfect rendition had the effect of being knocked out cold by a melodious sledgehammer
She was a strong-willed and tough person, having risen to the top by dint of sheer hard work and perseverance, always game to reinvent herself in keeping with changing times. She performed concerts with famous bands in Europe and the US - conceding that Indian violinists are more skilled. Indefatigable to the end, she performed to a sellout crowd in Dubai to mark her 90th birthday.
Yet, in conversation she was always childlike, and her humility was innate and natural. She had remarked, 'I'm so lucky I got to sing in an era of such great names such as Lata Mangeshkar, Mohammed Rafi and Kishore Kumar' - as though she was any less.
Her passing is an event of great sadness. But for all of us, there will also be adoration and gratitude. Her songs number in the thousands. So, there will always be a new 'old' song for even the biggest fan to discover.
Also Read | Asha Bhosle chose memory over goodbye after RD Burman’s death. The reason why she could not enter his bedroom
Determined not to be in the shadow of her older sister, Lata, she had often said that she needed to carve out her own image and style, a feat she accomplished so successfully that even Lata admitted, 'I could never sing her songs.' By virtue of her persona, and the kind of songs she sang - and did not sing - Lata inspired reverence, and a respectful distance in a listener. In Asha, the message was always one of fun, humour and affection.
In life, as in her music, she never let the pain show. To paraphrase what Emerson said of Lincoln, her heart was as great as the world, but there was no room in it to hold the memory of a wrong.
(Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this column are that of the writer. The facts and opinions expressed here do not reflect the views of www.economictimes.com.)
Chandrashekhar Rao
He is co-author of Lata Mangeshkar: My Favourites