Chhoti Si Asha…

Shreekant
Sambrani
tells
himself
over
and
over
again,
don’t
lose
heart
in
these
dire
times,
there
is

asha
(hope)
still,
in
the
divine
voice
of
Asha
Bhosle.

Picture
these
scenes:

A
young
man
is
distraught
at
losing
his
mother.
His
girl
soothes
his
troubled
brow
by
crooning
softly,
“Jahan
mein
aisa
kaun
hai,
jis
ko
gham
mila
nahin…”

A
woman
prisoner
serving
a
long
sentence
in
a
jail
with
no
hope
of
release,
rues
wistfully,
“Abke
baras
bhej
bhaiya
ko
babul…”

A
courtesan
in
the
nineteenth
century
Lucknow
sings
her
own
composition
to
earn
her
living,
wiping
a
tear
as
her
back
is
turned
to
the
audience,
“Yeh
kya
jagah
hai
doston….”

A
young
woman
recalls
her
time
with
her
lover,
“Mera
kuchh
saaman
tumhare
paas
pada
hai…”

A
nautanki
dancer
in
rural
Bihar
sings,
much
to
the
chagrin
of
the
simpleton
bullock-cart
driver
who
has
given
her
a
ride,
“Paan
khaye
saiyan
hamaro…”

A
socialite
in
a
club
tries
to
lure
back
a
simple
man
whose
girl
has
left
him
being
uncomfortable
in
the

nouveau
riche
false
surroundings,
“Mud
mud
ke
na
dekh
mud
mud
ke…”

A
young
hippie
girl
gyrates
to
a
strong
guitar
riff
in
a
hash-smoke
filled
dive,
“Dum
maro
dum“

A
young
woman
complains
about
her
cheating
beau,
“Chain
se
hum
ko
kabhi
aap
ne
jeene
na
diya…”

The
list
can
fill
many
another
page.
What
is
common
to
it?

The
divine
voice
of
Asha
Bhosle,
who
turns
91
today
(September
8,
2024),
our
very
last
link
to
the
golden
age
of
classic
Hindi
cinema,
which
reached
its
peak
in
the
1950s-1960s.

Asha
was
sometimes
considered
the
lesser
of
the
two
Mangeshkar
sisters,
God’s
gifts
to
this
poor
benighted
land
of
ours.
That
is
simply
not
true
and
plain
unjust.

In
singing
abilities,
tonal
range
and
voice
control,
she
was
every
bit
as
versatile
as
Lata,
and
truth
to
tell,
often
excelled
her.

Unlike
Lata,
she
threw
no
tantrums,
worked
with
every
composer
and
film-maker,
including
those
often
considered
B-grade,
sang
every
song
offered
to
her
with
the
minimum
of
fuss
and
finally
ended
up
a
vastly
larger
portfolio
of
songs
than
her
sister’s.

And
as
the
above
list
shows,
her
voice
suited
most
A-list
heroines,
from
Wahida
Rehman
to
Sadhana
to
Asha
Parekh
to
Rekha
to
Zeenat
Aman,
not
to
mention
Madhubala,
Nutan,
Mumtaz
and
everyone
else
in
between.

In
fact,
Shammi
Kapoor
is
reported
to
have
said
that
if
Mohammed
Rafi
was
not
to
sing
for
him,
he
would
have
preferred
Asha!

But
she
suffered
from
the
curse
of
being
the
second.
No
matter
what
you
achieve,
you
will
always
be
the
second.

Ask
Rahul
Dravid.
In
any
other
country
and
at
any
other
time,
he
would
have
been
considered
second
to
none,
but
here
that
spot
was
permanently
sealed
for
Sachin
Tendulkar.

It
is
the
greatness
of
both
Asha
Bhosle
and
Rahul
Dravid
that
they
graciously
accepted
this
reality
and
always
bowed
to
their
senior.

I
don’t
mean
to
make
comparisons,
because
that
would
be
most
unfair,
but
certain
facts
must
be
noted.

Lata,
almost
right
from
the
start
of
her
career
with

Barsaat,
had
the
best
of
composers
—
Naushad,
Anil
Biswas,
C
Ramchandra,
S
D
Burman,
Shankar-Jaikishan
—
offering
her
their
choicest
songs,
as
if
they
were
waiting
for
the
voice
they
had
conjured
up
in
their
best
dreams.

Asha,
on
the
hand,
was
nobody’s
go-to
girl.
She
got
the
left-overs
of
not
just
Lata,
but
also
of
Geeta
Dutt
and
Shamshad
Begum.

And
yet,
she
ended
up
shaping
careers
such
as
that
of
O
P
Nayyar
and
dragged
him
out
of
the
realm
of
budget
films
to
the
top
tier.

When
their
partnership
ended,
O
P
Nayyar
was
76
and
remarked
that
Asha
was
the
most
important
person
in
his
life.
That
is
no
hyperbole.

One
can
easily
see
the
differences
between
Nayyar’s
music
before
his
teaming
with
Asha
and
after.

The
latter
phase
is
much
richer
and
has
come
to
define
Nayyar’s
uniqueness.

The
two
sisters
sang
together
some
memorable
songs.

Even
a
seasoned
listener
would
find
hard
to
tell
their
voices
apart
in

O
chand
jahan
wo
jaye
(Sharada)
or

Chhap
tilak
(Main
Tulsi
Tere
Aangan
Ki)
or

Man
kyun
behka
(Utsav).

There
is
a
gem
of
recordingS
of
interviews
with
Asha,
R
D
Burman
and
Gulzar,
which
is
occasionally
broadcast
on
Vividh
Bharati.

Asha
asks,
with
only
half
a
complaining
tone,
as
to
why
Burman
the
composer
and
Gulzar
the
poet
favoured
Lata.

The
two
together
answered
back
that
they
saved
their
most
difficult
compositions
for
Asha,
which
no
one
else
could
sing.

That
is
absolutely
true.
Listen
to

Mera
kuchh
saamaan
penned
by
Gulzar
and
composed
by
Burman.

Or
the
Burman

pere
song,

Mera
gora
rang
lai
le
from

Bandini,
which
was
a
peace
offering
to
Lata
after
a
five
year
rift
between
the
two,
and

Ab
ke
baras
from
the
same
film
sung
by
Asha.

Some
songs
were
just
meant
for
Asha!

And
that
list
must
include
all
five
songs
of
Asha’s
in
Muzaffar
Ali’s

Umrao
Jaan:

Yeh
kya
jagah
hai
doston,
Justju
jiski
thi,
Dil
kya
cheez
hai,
In
ankhonki
masti
ke,
and

Jab
bhi
milti
hai.

Khayyam,
who
had
given
two
memorable
Mukesh-Asha
duets
in

Phir
Subah
Hogi
(Woh
subah
kabhi
to
aayegi,
Dekhiye
aapne
phir
pyaar
se
dekha
mujh
ko)
asked
Asha
to
lower
her
pitch
by
half
a
note,
and
magic
happened.

Those
five
songs
have
a
symphonic
aura,
both
in
lyrics
and
music,
something
absolutely
rare
in
Hindi
cinema.

The
film
is
remembered
as
much
for
the
songs
as
for
Rekha’s
performance
in
the
title
role.

I
have
often
wondered
why
no
one
ever
thought
of
dubbing
an
edited
version
(keeping
intact
the
songs)
in
English
and
calling
it

The
Last
Courtesan.
It
would
be
an
instant
hit.

Jaidev
is
another
composer
who
made
wonderful
use
of
Asha.
His
songs
from

Hum
Dono,

Mujhe
Jeene
Do
and

Do
Boond
Paani
are
uniquely
Asha.

And
the
best
of
them
are

Nazar
lagi
raja
tore
bungale
par
and

Dil
laga
ke
kadar
gayi
pyaare
(though
not
credited
to
Jaidev,
as
he
was
assisting
S
D
Burman)
are
again
the
best

kotha
songs
ever.

Asha
has
sung
in
most
other
Indian
languages
as
well.

The
most
memorable
ones
are
her
renditions
of

natya
sangeet
(songs
from
musical
theatre)
of
her
father
Master
Dinanath
Mangeshkar.

Listen
to

Yuvati
mana
darun
ran
from
the
play

Maanapman.

In
just
three-and-a-half
minutes,
Asha
reaches
the
heights
of
classical
singing,
accompanied
by
just
the
harmonium
and
the
tabla,
easily
matching
any
maestro
you
care
to
name.

So
I
tell
myself
over
and
over
again,
don’t
lose
heart
in
these
dire
times,
there
is

asha
(hope)
still,
in
the
divine
voice
of
Asha
Bhosle.

Try
it.
I
guarantee
it
will
lift
the
lowest
of
spirits.

Feature
Presentation:
Aslam
Hunani/Rediff.com