The Many Moods of Asha Bhosle

You are missed...

Just as I did when Lata Mangeshkar passed, I’ve spent the last two weeks soaking in the magic of Asha Bhosle’s voice. I have discovered ‘new’ old songs; Shalini has sent me yet others that she discovered in her own exploration, and I have sought the comfort of the familiar. It was as if I was listening to the soundscape of my life. 

Love Songs – Asha Bhosle

1933 - As long as music lives
Pic courtesy: Asha Bhosle's Instagram 

My earlier post was on ‘very-unlike-Asha’ songs. Which, for those who adore the singer, are not atypical at all. In her long career, Asha had sung every genre of song that Hindi film music directors gave her, and sung them well. Initially struggling through B-grade and C-grade films, singing for the second heroine, the heroine’s friend or the vamp, Asha reached the zenith of her profession through discipline and hard work. Along the way, she impressed everyone who heard her with her versatility and impeccable talent. In one interview, talking about her early struggle, she had said, “I sang every song that came my way.” And among those hundreds and thousands of songs are songs that speak of love. Love, in its myriad shades. Like my earlier series on love songs by Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi, I will focus on the happier shades of love.
In no particular order, then…

Untypically Asha...

From then to eternity...

When Lata Mangeshkar passed away in February 2022, I immersed myself in her songs. It seemed the only way to assuage the loss I felt. With Asha Bhosle’s demise, that sense of loss has only intensified. As I wrote in my tribute post, the world, already bleak, only felt bleaker for her passing. I’ve spent the last few days lost in her seemingly inexhaustible catalogue of songs. I’m sure most of us will have our own favourite ‘lists’. 

The Sound of Silence

08.09.1933-12.04.2026

Asha chhilo bhalobhasa chhilo 
Aaj aasha nei bhalobasa nei  

So, this is what it looks like – a world bereft of music. Yes, there will be other singers, ones who sing as well, perhaps even better. But there can only be one Asha Bhosle, and she’s no more. And just like that, the last link to the golden age of music has snapped. 

My Favourites: Songs of 'Waking Dreams'

Here on the East Coast of the US, we are being pummelled by one storm after another. Recently, I’d posted a couple of photographs of being snowed in, and an acquaintance had remarked that snow and ice ‘must be very nice’. I remarked that it would be nice if I had Shammi Kapoor serenade me like he did Saira Banu in Junglee, but shovelling snow so you can get out of your house is not a very pleasurable activity. 

Imagination vs. Reality

Which led to a conversation about imagining Shammi beside me as I shovelled. Alas, despite my abiding love for masala films and my ability to suspend disbelief while watching said movies, my imagination doesn’t stretch that far. It never did. Not even when I was a lovelorn teen crushing on Amitabh Bachchan.

Dharam Veer (1977)

Directed by: Manmohan Desai
Music: Laxmikant-Pyarelal
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi, Vitthalbhai Patel
Starring: Dharmendra, Jeetendra,
Zeenat Aman, Neetu Singh,
Indrani Mukherjee, Pran,
Jeevan, Ranjeet,
Sujit Kumar, DK Sapru,
Pradeep Kumar, Dev Kumar,
Chand Usmani

When I wrote a tribute to Dharmendra, I basically updated a post I’d planned for his birthday. I decided I needed to do more – review a film, but because I haven’t watched many of his films recently (other than Ikkis and Aaye Din Bahaar Ke, which Dustedoff reviewed here), I fell back on a film that I’d watched with Shalini, more than six years ago. The choice of this film was also due to Madhu’s comment (on my tribute post) about the condescension towards masala flicks. After all, who can symbolise ‘masala’ more than Manmohan Desai? Besides, I love these faux raja-rani stories; they satisfy my love for camp.

As we began, Shalini quipped that she fully intended to ignore Jeetendra and ‘focus on Dharam and Zeenie Baby’. I fully agreed – poor Jeetu didn’t stand a chance. 

Ikkis (2026)

Directed by Sriram Raghavan
Music: White Noise Collectives, Rooh
Lyrics: Amitabh Bhattacharya, Vaibhav
Starring: Dharmendra, Jaideep Ahlawat,
Agastya Nanda, Simar Bhatia,
Suhasini Mulay, Ekavali Khanna,
Avni Rai, Vivaan Shah,
Sikander Kher, Rahul Dev

Just after Second Lieutenant Arun Khetarpal (Agastya Nanda, in his theatrical debut) has had his 21^st birthday cake smashed onto his face, the commanding officer comes into the room – “How old are you?” he asks Arun. ‘Ikkis, sir," says the young man. "Are we going to war?"  

His superior officer congratulates him, and informs the group that war has indeed been declared. And Arun is jubilant; he’s thirsting for the opportunity to prove himself in battle. But Ikkis is not just the story of a young man’s valour; it is also the story of what happens 30 years after his death.

The Greats: Dharmendra

08.12.1935- 24.11.2025
Photo courtesy: India Today Archives

This was not what I had planned, nor indeed, expected, when I wrote this post and scheduled it for today. I’d meant it to be a celebration of an amazing artiste’s 90^th birthday. Instead, two weeks ago, I woke up to the shocking news that he had passed away. And because the press, including highly ‘respectable’ newspapers and news channels, had killed the man off previously, it didn’t hit me at first. But slowly, as the idea that ‘Veeru’ had passed away (Sholay being the first film I consciously remember having watched) sank in, the news felt more devastating than I’d expected. I wondered then, whether I should relegate this post to the backburner and post a tribute instead. But, what better tribute than an actor have than to be remembered for his performances? So, the original post in its entirety, in tribute to a man who could effortlessly combine romance, comedy, ‘action, tragedy, drama’ – Dharam Singh Deol, better known as ‘Dharmendra’. 

The Candidate (1972)

Directed by: Michael Ritchie
Music: John Rubenstein
Writer: Jeremy Larner
Starring: Robert Redford, Don Porter,
Peter Boyle, Allan Garfield,
Melvyn Douglas, Karen Carlson

The day after I published my review of Raj Hath came the news that Hollywood icon Robert Redford had passed away. He deserves a tribute if ever anyone did, and I mentally reviewed the Redford films I’d watched: should I rewatch All the President’s Men (a favourite of mine, and so relevant to today’s political environment here in the US) or Sting? Or perhaps Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? That evening, my partner-in-crime, Shalini, texted me – shouldn’t we watch a Redford film to commemorate his passing? Of course!

Raj Hath (1956)

Directed by: Sohrab Modi
Music: Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri, Shailendra
Starring: Sohrab Modi, Madhubala, Pradeep Kumar,
Ulhas, Murad, Kammo

When Tom sent me the print of Raj Hath to subtitle, I was intrigued. I had watched this a long time ago, but my feeble brain had forgotten everything about it, except that it starred Pradeep Kumar and Madhubala, and had one of my favourite songs – Ye vaada karo chaand ke saamne. And since I have a huge tolerance for raja-rani films, I was looking forward to watching it again.