Mrs Harris Goes to Paris (2022)

With the world going to hell in a handbasket, keeping one's spirits up feels more imperative than ever — and more difficult. Each new day brings headlines that read like a farcical list of "Ten Things You Could Never Have Imagined Would Be True." So I spend my time playing silly games on my phone (dragons, anyone?), trying to summon the energy to plant the flowers that have been sitting accusingly on my deck for a month, and watching endless clips from old Hindi films on YouTube — all while endeavouring to do the job I'm actually paid to do. Suffice it to say, I have to push myself to do anything these days.

So there I was one Sunday afternoon, curled up on the sofa, when my husband put on Mrs Harris Goes to Paris. I forced myself to pay attention. A few scenes in, I had a vision: an embroidered Christian Dior gown (a faithful recreation, but more on that later) in shades of lilac and lavender, with touches of pink and white. It was ethereal. And I felt a little like Mrs Harris herself — unable to look away. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning.

Songs of Desire: Asha Bhosle

Pic courtesy: NBC News

When I began writing the series of posts as a tribute to Asha Bhosle, I deliberately stepped away from the ‘typical Asha’ songs. I delved deep into her musical repertoire to discover songs that explored the length, breadth and depth of Asha’s range as a performer. Yet, a niggling disquiet troubled me… was I not, in my zeal to discover ‘untypical’ Asha songs, trapping the singer into yet another box? Did I feel that Asha’s sensual, seductive, sultry songs were somehow ‘lesser than’? That I had to prove she could sing the ‘purer’ melodies with as much felicity as her sister did?
 
And why was I so apologetic about it? Asha certainly wasn’t. Somewhere along the way, she blurred the distinctions between heroine and vamp, ‘good’ women and ‘bad’. She made female desire not just acceptable, but worth celebrating. In a post mourning the chanteuse, contemporary singer Sona Mohapatra wrote, “It’s not grief [that she feels]; it’s gratitude…. for giving voice to desire, to playfulness, to seduction… at a time when those were still taboo for women.”

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.