08.09.1933 - |
This post has been a long time coming. First, it
was because I was waiting for an ‘occasion’; then, it was because I didn’t have
the time to pick the songs I wanted. Finally, I decided not to wait for that
perfect moment, and did some quick research into which songs I didn't
want. The rest of it was mostly, 'I like this and this and this... and
perhaps, this... so here, help me choose!' to my husband who, muttering
under his breath, looked at my list and helped me hone it down to a manageable
number.
Like
her sister, Asha Bhosle has straddled generations with seeming ease,
reinventing herself to stay relevant to modern sensibilities. Having spent her
early career in the shadow of her illustrious elder sister, Asha’s rise to the
being her sister’s closest rival was certainly not meteoric. Lata Mangeshkar
had surged forward like a tidal wave from 1949 onwards, leaving other established
singers far behind and had forged a seemingly invincible position for herself
at the top. Asha was competing with both established songstress Shamshad Begum,
and with Geeta Roy, her contemporary who, having topped the charts with Mera
sundar sapna beet gaya from Do Bhai (1947) was carving a niche for
herself despite the Lata wave.
Geeta’s position was secured following the release
of Baazi (1951). Asha’s career track was not quite so smooth. While she
had sung a song in the Marathi film Majha Bal (1943) when she was barely
10, her Hindi debut came a few years later – Sawan aaya (Chunariya/1948),
under the baton of Hansraj Behl, where she accompanied Geeta Dutt and Zohrabai Ambalewali. This was followed by songs in minor films,
which did not give her the satisfaction she craved. When she did sing for a major
film, it was to find that the heroine’s voice was almost always Geeta Dutt and
Shamshad Begum, or her sister, Lata. Asha had to be content with singing for
the second heroine or the dancing girl / vamp. (Suraiya, fortunately, sang only for herself.)
Asha had once confessed to having spent years
honing her voice so it would sound different from her sister’s. It also took
her years to come out of Geeta Dutt’s shadow, and it would be OP Nayyar, one of
Geeta Dutt’s avowed fans, who would help Asha mould both her voice and her
career. He had already worked with Asha in Mangu the previous year, but
it was with C.I.D. (1956) that Asha reached a turning point in her
career. She was still singing for the ‘vamp’ in this film but the songs became
thumping successes and Asha had her feet set firmly on the ladder of success.
She became OP Nayyar’s favourite singer, and Naya Daur (1957) the very
next year, cemented the popularity of the composer-singer pair. It was one of
the most successful musical collaborations in Hindi film music.
Their professional and personal collaboration would
extend all the way into the 70s, and their breakup was as cataclysmic, though
neither person has ever uttered a word on the subject. Unfortunately, she also
denied OP’s role in the trajectory of her successful career until then. After a
short-lived but very satisfying professional relationship with SD Burman
(following the rift between him and Lata), Asha moved on to a very successful
and prolific collaboration with RD Burman.
In her decades' long career, Asha Bhosle has sung
every possible genre of songs. From her seductive cabaret numbers to the
sensuous mujras, from the romantic ballads to soulful ghazals, from frothy
melodies to the deeply poignant numbers, Asha has sung them all. She has sung duets and triads with every major [Hindi film] playback singer worth their name. She has
collaborated with international artistes (The Kronos Quartet, Robbie Williams,
Michael Stipes, Boy George, etc.), sung in many different languages, and opened
restaurants (she’s a very good cook) as well. Unlike most other singers, she was not
afraid to experiment with new sounds, new genres, new composers.
Like the other singers I have profiled, it was a very difficult
task to sift through Asha’s thousands of songs to come up with a handful to
showcase her versatility. As with the others, the difficulty was not just what
to choose, but what to leave out. Finally, with some help from my husband, here
are my final picks in chronological order.
Talat Mehmood had already made a name for himself
singing ghazals, and his version is definitely the more popular one. In fact,
when I wrote of this song in my post on multi-version songs, I said how I much preferred
his version to that of Asha's. However, the more I listen to it, I realise just
how well she's sung this song. She was barely twenty then, and her voice hasn't
yet matured to its full potential, but her instinctive grasp over the melody is
very evident.
Chandni Chowk had a plethora
of songs, and while Lata Mangeshkar provided the voice for the heroine, Meena
Kumari, Asha had to content herself with singing for Smriti Biswas. However, Tera
dil kahan hai was probably the best known of the songs. (Smriti had a meaty
role and some scintillating dance numbers.) I really love Rahe na rahe hum, but ever since I heard this
song, I've loved this song. There's a strange sweetness about this tune, given
that it's sung in an Egyptian tavern. (Of course, S, listening to the song, had
this to say: 'She's busy strumming a mandolin, but the instrument in the
background is a guitar!')
This is one of those songs that has clones all over
the place. If Roshan himself recycled this tune for Rahe na rahe hum, then
its origins lay in SD Burman's Thandi hawaayein (Naujawan/1951). That
tune was also recycled by RD Burman in Saagar kinare (Saagar).
*The film had a
dozen songs, with six lyricists – Raja Mehdi Ali Khan, Shailendra, Majrooh
Sultanpuri, Kamil Rashid, Saifuddin Said, Vishwamitr Adil – sharing the credits.
Unfortunately, I cannot discover which of them wrote the lyrics for this
song.
It was a film that was ahead of its time, but like
most (all?) of Mehboob Khan's films, this one too collapses towards the end
with the 'solution' being worse than the problem itself. Like all his films,
this too had some fantastic songs, and this one, a bhajan, is sung at a
crucial time in the film. The flawed hero has committed a crime, and is now
torn apart by guilt. A freak accident nearly kills him and the woman who loves
him, and the woman who has been wronged by him both pray fervently for his life
to be saved.
Naushad is on record saying that he had closed his ears to Asha, focusing entirely on Lata Mangeshkar. And this song, picturised on Nimmi, who played the second lead, and Madhubala, the heroine, proves how much he (and we) missed. Asha's voice has such poignancy, such sweetness that one cannot blame the deity for listening to their pleas.
For a music composer who believed that God had
stopped making singers after Noor Jehan and Lata Mangeshkar, Sajjad Hussain
used Asha only when Lata was not available. Here, for some reason, Lata only recorded one song before she bowed out of the film. This gave Asha her chance, and here she joins with Kishore Kumar,
her favourite colleague who was also the hero of Rukhsana, to sing one
solo and two duets. Like most of Sajjad's tunes, this was not a simple song to sing.
It's not a film that made big waves, but the
musical score is classic Salilda. While Lillian, as the dancer, got two lovely
songs, this peppy number is the only song that was picturised on Mala Sinha,
despite being the lead. All three female solos in this move were sung by Asha
Bhosle. I love everything about this song – the music, the verve with which
Asha sings this song, a fresh–faced Mala Sinha who looked to be enjoying
herself, a handsome Abhi Bhattacharya who looks alternately embarrassed and
amused...
Whatever Asha might have to say (or not) about OP
Nayyar, some of her best songs came under his baton. His complete repudiation
of Lata Mangeshkar apart, he had self–confessedly ignored both Shamshad Begum
(who had sung for him at the beginning of his career) and Geeta Dutt to
patronise Asha. By this time, Naya Daur had cemented both Asha's
professional equation with OP Nayyar, and given her the confidence she
had seemingly lacked until then. So, in Howrah Bridge, there's a
different Asha behind the microphone. Armed with OP's music and Qamar
Jalalabadi's lyrics, Asha's voice – seductive, sultry, come-hither and
innocent, was the perfect foil for Madhubala as she lip-synced on screen. If
one believes that a singer also has to 'act' through his voice, then this is
one of the best examples. The tone, the mood, the intonation – Asha's smoky
sultriness matched Madhubala's expressions on screen.
This song is possibly the classic OP Nayyar-Asha
Bhosle combination; it's a collaboration that have given us many, many
beautiful melodies. In fact, I dithered between choosing this and Yehi woh jagah hai from Ye Raat Phir Na Aayegi – my other quintessential
favourite for both rendition and the air of mystery it evokes. OP Nayyar's
music brings out the effect of the 'ghost' song, haunting and melodious, and
Asha's voice amplifies that effect.
Lyricist Sahir Ludhianvi had used part of this
ghazal earlier in Pyaasa (rendered beautifully by Mohammed Rafi). Or
perhaps, he expanded upon the earlier ghazal here. This film, definitely not as
well–known or as successful as Pyaasa, had some really good songs
composed by under-rated composer N Dutta. Asha acquitted herself gamely, and by
now, the tables had turned – former rival Geeta Dutt had one duet to Asha's 3
solos and one duet. (Suman Kalyanpur had another duet.) Asha was now beginning,
like her sister, to consistently be the voice of the heroine. It had taken her
a decade to get there.
8. Meri jaan o meri jaan / Sahib Bibi aur Ghulam (1962) / Music: Hemant Kumar / Lyrics: Shakeel Badayuni
I dithered over a couple of choices before picking
this song. I eventually pitched on this one because I loved Asha's
rendition in this song. It's playful and coquettish, pitched to appeal to the
rich zamindar who thinks his rank and wealth allows him to patronise a nautch
girl. Since it was a Guru Dutt film, wife Geeta got to sing for the heroine,
Meena Kumari, while Asha sang for both the second lead, Waheeda Rehman, and the
two dances songs. The actress – Bimla Kumari – on whom this song was
picturised, had another iconic song picturised on her: Hawa mein udta jaaye
from Barsaat (1949). Asha liked
Hemant Kumar's voice so much that she named her son 'Hemant' after the veteran
singer.
Mujhe Jeene Do had both Asha
and Lata vying for high honour. If Lata gloried in Raat bhi kuch bheegi
and Tere bachpan ko jawani ki dua deti hoon, Asha scaled the high notes
of Nadi naare na jaao Shyaam paiyya paru with assured ease. The
song is a small note of cheer in a film that dealt with the tragedy of men who
had turned to dacoity. Waheeda's Chameli has just begun a new life with the man
who abducted her, and amidst the shootouts with the police and despite the uncertainty
of this new beginning, has found love and acceptance. Asha's rendition conveys
the tremulousness of a new bride's feelings as well as the playfulness of the
Radha–Shyam romance.
10. Ye kaun meri zindagi mein aa gaya / Bombay Race Course (1965) / Music: Madan Mohan / Lyrics: Rajinder Krishan
I found this song when I was researching songs for
another list. I had never heard this song before, and while I knew Madan Mohan
had recorded some really lovely songs with Asha Bhosle, this song was a
revelation. From what I can gather, the film starred Ajit and Nalini Jaywant.
Like many of the films for which Madan Mohan composed, this film didn't do too
well commercially. However, the songs are very, very nice indeed. This
composition, a slow, romantic number, has been exquisitely rendered by Asha,
and has quickly become a 'new' favourite. One of my other choices was Saba se ye keh do from Bank Manager.
Another twin–version song (the 'happy' version is
sung by Mahendra Kapoor), this lovely number appears in a B–grade (but very
enjoyable) 'spy' thriller and was Faryal's debut as heroine. (Of course,
watching the movie makes it very clear why she remained a dancer or side
lead.)This is one of the songs where I like both male and female versions. For
some reason, it reminded me of Hoshwaalon ko khabar kya zindagi kya cheez hai from Sarfarosh. Anyone else?
Like Aayiye meherbaan is probably the
touchstone of the OP-Asha combo, to me, the Ravi-Asha combination always brings
to mind this lovely song, one that is used so intelligently in the film –
there's a crooner at a party (Erika Lall), people are milling around, eating,
drinking, socialising. Elsewhere, a murder is being committed, someone is
trying to escape, a young man is a witness... there's so much going on. That's
the picturisation. From the point of view of the song, it calls out to people
to seize the moment; the past is not important, the future has no bearing on
the present. What's important is the here and the now. (Which, in context, is
delightfully ironical – even as the song is being sung, the future of many of
those present at the party is being decided in the here and now.) Asha sings it
with such sensuality – her voice is both languid and sultry, giving off a sort
of smoky, nightclub vibe that so fits the lyrics of the song. A very 'western'
number, as is appropriate to the setting, Asha's voice quietly dominates the
song.
13. Paan khaaye saiyyan hamaro / Teesri Kasam (1966) / Music: Shankar-Jaikishan / Lyrics: Shailendra
Another interesting incidence of both Asha and
Lata providing playback for the same heroine; while Lata gave voice to the
poignant Aa bhi jaa, Asha came in for the spirited, come-hither nautanki-inspired
Paan khaaye saiyyan hamaro. The vocal performance was mirrored in
Waheeda's spirited acting – it's clear that her character is used to catering
to an all-male audience. Also that it doesn't bother her. This must be one of
the few films where an SJ score had more Asha solos than Lata solos.
This might seem like such an odd pick for the Asha–SD
combination, especially since they had such powerful scores from Kala Pani
(Nazar laagi raaja, Dil lagaake kadar gai pyaare) and Bandini (Ab ke baras, O panchhi pyaare). In fact, my initial pick for an Asha–SD Burman
combination was Ab ke baras from Bandini. I think that song is
one of their best; Asha's voice soars and ebbs with such pathos and longing,
and SD keeps the instrumentation down to the minimum. Asha is said to have
broken down while recording the song – in an interview, she confessed that in
the initial days of her marriage, her husband wouldn't allow her to return to
her maaike.
However, I love this song, love how Asha made it
her own. It's beautifully sung, and I love the little riffs – how the melody
doesn't really follow the rules, it's 'cut' at odd times. I don't know the
technical terms for all of these, but if you look at the way the Raat akeli
hai bujh gaye diye follows one metre, while Tum aaj mere liye ruk jaao
rut bhi hai fursat bhi hai has another, and Tumhe na ho na sahi mujhe
tumse muhobath hai, muhobath ki ijaazat hai toh chup kyun rahiye jo bhi chaahe
kahiye, yet another. Then the song cuts back abruptly to the short Raat
akeli hai – pause – bujh gaye diye. Asha manages the cuts with
casually, dropping her voice from the high registers to the lower ones, doing
it with such consummate ease. It's a fantastic song, and while Tanuja looked
rather too endearing to be seductive, she brought in an exuberance that
complemented the joy in Asha's voice.
Part of Basu Bhattacharya's introspective Amar–Mansi
trilogy (Anubhav, Aavishkar, Grihpravesh), the film was a
hard–hitting exploration of man–woman relationships. It won Rajesh Khanna a
well–deserved Filmfare Award for Best Actor. Music director Kanu Roy (who also
scored for Anubhav) used Asha to great effect here. Her Naina hai
pyaase mere is a quiet remembrance of happier times.
Like many other music directors in this list,
Laxmikant-Pyarelal were also primarily Lata loyalists. More so, in their case,
since they were her protégés. However, there were some songs that Asha sang,
and sang well, for them, and one of my favourites is this one. I love this song,
primarily for Mumu, I must confess! She projects an innocence that is at
variance with what she's singing. Asha matches her verve and abandon in this
lovely number that explicitly states how desirable she is.
While Dil cheez kya hai won for Asha the
National Award that year, and Ye kya jageh hai doston is my personal
favourite for a variety of reasons, I love this song – the
picturisation, Rekha's expressive performance, the music, lyrics, the
singing.... Asha has narrated how Khayyam had shocked her by saying he didn't
want Asha in the movie. He wanted Umrao. So every composition was set to a
lower register than Asha was used to. She almost refused to sing. But Khayyam
promised to record the songs in her usual 'voice' if she wasn't happy with how
she sounded. That didn't happen.
18. Jawani jaaneman / Namak Halal (1982) / Music: Bappi Lahiri / Lyrics: Anjaan
The 80s were the days of the Disco. And Bappi
Lahiri was admittedly the king when it came to disco beats. Here, he makes full
use of the technology available to him then, but the composition is really
quite good despite the electronics. Asha, fighting to stay relevant then, a
full four decades after she had first begun singing, proved she had what it
takes to be the voice of the heroine.
As an aside, Bappi Lahiri must have loved the
sets!
As with SD, the RD-Asha combination has thrown up
many, many beautiful songs, and I'm sure we all have our own favourites. If I
ask my son, he'll probably say Piya tu ab toh aa jaa... For me,
'favourites' is pretty much a fluid term; they keep changing, and it's always
difficult to choose just a handful of songs at any point. Some songs, of
course, keep popping up again and again, but while I'm making lists, I usually
go through a mental list of my 'favourite' songs and pick the one I feel like
picking at that moment. There's no science to this. I must confess, however,
that I love Mera kuch samaan very, very much, even if RD thought it was
like composing for a newspaper article. I love the song, the feelings evoked by
the lyrics, the way the music ebbs and flows, and the quiet poignancy with
which Asha Bhosle sings it. What part of yourself do you leave behind when a
relationship ends? Beautiful.
Asha's 'reinvention' didn't end with the 80s and
the disco generation. When that period ended (happily!), she picked herself up
and moved on, experimenting with newer genres, younger musicians and composers.
So when Rehman burst onto the Hindi music scene with Roja and Rangeela,
Asha was there to be part of this new wave. She would collaborate with
Rehman in many projects; once again, while the songs of Rangeela are
lovely, it is this song from the new millennium that I choose to showcase her
oeuvre. My husband reminded me of it when I was making this list and dithering
between a couple of other songs. Once again, song, music, picturisation and
rendition – all come together to form a perfect whole. Asha's voice had begun
to lose its timbre by now, but she sang this beautifully.
This list is just a glimpse into the sheer talent
that is Asha’s, and is an attempt to showcase her range across genres. As with
my other posts on singers, I have tried to pick one song per music director;
this list is not the complete list of music directors that this talented singer
worked with, nor the ‘best’ of their collaboration. These songs are my
favourites, but not necessarily my only favourites. What songs would you choose?
(Photo credits: most of these photographs have been sourced from the Internet. I have found multiple sites for some of them, so here are the sites I think they are from: indianexpress.com, quint.com, hamaraphotos.com, rediff.com, wikipedia.com, cineplot.com, asha-bhonsle.com. If there are any specific photographs for which specific credit must be given, please do contact me via this blog.)
No comments:
Post a Comment