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’. 
To me, most of all, Asha represented happiness, resilience, and a contagious zest for life. Like her sister, she lived life on her own terms, without regrets. Her struggles, both personal and professional, had made her stronger than most, and she continually reinvented herself to remain relevant even seven decades after she first began singing. ‘Woman of substance’ is mostly a cliché nowadays, but Asha was definitely that. To celebrate an artiste par excellence, then, a series of posts that serve to showcase her incredible talent. 

Let me begin then with a post on the very ‘atypical' Asha songs – songs that are not known or as popular but are beautiful melodies that deserve their place in the sun. But, as Shalini pointed out, she’s sung practically every genre there is, so what is ‘atypical’? My argument was that when people talk about Asha Bhosle, they highlight her so-called ‘seductive’ numbers or ‘peppy songs’, confining her talent to the limits of their own imagination. I wanted to go above and beyond, so who better than Shalini to aid and abet me in this endeavour? My gratitude also to my husband, whose encyclopaedic knowledge of old Hindi film music never fails to amaze me, even after so many years. 

So jaa mere pyaare so jaa 
Footpath (1953) 
Music: Sharmaji (Khayyam) 
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri 

Zia Sarhadi's Footpath is one of the rare films in her early career in which Asha lent her voice to the heroine. While Talat’s Shaam-e-gham ki kasam is the most well-known song from this film, this lullaby is a sweet reminder that Asha could modulate her voice to suit the occasion. In this same film are the vivacious Aa ra ra rum suhaana hai mausam, a club song; the romantic Kaisa jadoo daale re balma na jaane, and the yearning Piya aaja re dil mera pukaare, where she sounds so much like Geeta Dutt. 

Chanda ki chandni ka jadoo 
Sitaron se Aage (1958) 
Music: SD Burman 
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri 
The Asha-SD Burman collaboration is an extensive one across decades, and the composer has given her some of her best-known songs beyond her collaborations with OP Nayyar and RD Burman. 

This is one of the songs that I discovered thanks to Shalini, who has an almost-supernatural talent for digging out obscure gems. Filmed on Vyjayanthimala and Ashok Kumar, this romantic number has a very dreamy quality. Interestingly enough, while Asha and her sister Lata each had three solos, all picturised on Vyjayanthimala, Geeta Dutt also gets to sing one song for the heroine. 

Aayi pari rang bhari 
Do Phool (1958) 
Music: Vasant Desai 
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri 
A well-adapted screen version of Heidi, Do Phool starred Baby Naaz as Poornima/Heidi, while Master Romi is Jaggu/Peter. This song, coming as it does when the two children first get to know each other, is a 'waking dream' sequence in which Jaggu plays the flute, imagining Poornima surrounded by fairies. Asha’s voice, while not really suited to a child (just why did they always have adult singers sing for children?), has a sweetness that complements the song’s melody; pay close attention to the vibrato in her voice.

This is another song that Shalini ‘introduced’ me to. (Which is rather weird considering I have watched Do Phool – and conveniently forgot all about its songs.) I fell in love with this song when she sent me the link recently, and have already listened to it multiple times. 

Tang aa chuke hain kashmakash-e-zindagi se hum 
Light House (1958) 
Music: N Dutta 
Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi 

When most people think of Asha and ghazals, it is Umrao Jaan’s fabulous Khayyam score that comes to mind. But decades before Umrao, Asha had some lovely ghazals to her credit. One of the earliest of these is Tang aa chuke hain kashmakash-e-zindagi se hum – a ghazal, two verses of which Sahir Ludhianvi reprised from Pyaasa, which released the previous year. 
While the latter took the form of a recitation (rendered beautifully by Mohammed Rafi), the ghazal here is given a more melodic structure by composer N Dutta. 

Poocho na humein hum unke liye 
Mitti Mein Sona (1960) 
Music: OP Nayyar 
Lyrics: Raja Mehdi Ali Khan 

 
Asha’s professional and personal collaboration with composer OP Nayyar would result in a great body of work that is still relevant today. But when one thinks of OP, we remember his peppy songs, his inimitable ‘tonga’ beats, the frothy, carefree, happy songs. But like Asha, OP was unfairly slotted – listen to this song from an obscure Mala Sinha-Pradeep Kumar starrer. [There’s a second verse which I cannot find. If some kind soul has better luck, please post it in the comments.]  

Raat chup hai chandni madhosh hai [with Ravi]
Ustadon ke Ustad (1963) 
Music: Ravi 
Lyrics: Asad Bhopali 

I’m cheating a little here since this is an 'almost-duet' – the song begins with a verse sung by Ravi himself. As the notes of the prelude die away, Asha (singing for Shakila) begins the verses exhorting a morose Pradeep Kumar to smile. The rather convoluted story aside, Ustaadon ke Ustaad is better known for the romantic ballad, Sau baar janam lenge and the peppy Helen-Johnny Walker number, Maine kaha tha aana Sunday ko. While Asha’s trademark huskiness is evident here, she modulates her voice to make it sweetly alluring rather than sexy. 

Tere khayaalon mein hum 
Geet Gaaya Pattharon Ne (1964) 
Music: Ramlal 
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri 

 
Like Navrang, also directed by V Shantaram, this film, too, dealt with an artiste and his muse – there, a poet; here, a sculptor. In Vijay's (Jeetendra, in his debut role as hero), ‘waking dream’, he spies the face of his muse in a rock and begins sculpting her face. And in a surreal sequence, his muse takes shape as the personification of his feelings and emotions. Asha’s voice here has a haunting quality that complements the sequence. 

Ta dheem ta na dheem (with chorus) 
Poonam ki Raat (1965) 
Music: Salil Choudhury 
Lyrics: Shailendra 

If there’s one song in this film that everyone has heard, it is Lata’s haunting Saathi re tujh bin jiya udaas re. But hearken to this foot-tapping Asha number from the same film. As different as chalk from cheese in mood and tone, the two melodies highlight Salilda’s versatility as much as they showcase the two extremely talented female voices. Asha’s rendition is pitch-perfect and a very talented Bela Bose keeps pace with all the harkats and murkis (and Manoj Kumar smiles!)

Ye kaun mere zindagi mein aaya 
Bombay Race Course (1965) 
Music: Madan Mohan 
Lyrics: Rajinder Krishan 

Madan Mohan was a stellar composer who composed for many a B-grade movie; this one, starring Ajit in one of his last films as a hero, and Nalini Jaywant (at the tail end of her career) as the heroine, was one such obscure film. Yet, many a gem of a song has languished in bad films – this is one of them. And, even though the composer had a soft spot for his munh-boli bahen, Lata, he composed some lovely melodies for Asha as well. Listen to Asha singing this song and tell me that the yearning in her voice doesn’t touch your heart. 

Ambar ki ek paak suraahi 
Kadambari (1975) 
Music: Ustad Vilayat Khan 
Lyrics: Amrita Pritam 

 
I first heard this song when my husband introduced me to it. Composed by Ustad Vilayat Khan (who composed only for one Hindi film), this Amrita Pritam poem is one of Asha’s lesser-known but beautiful renditions. Picturised on Shabana Azmi, partly as a background song, Ambar ki ek paak suraahi is a definite mid-career best for Asha. 

Phir se aaiyo badra bidesi 
Namkeen (1982) 
Music: RD Burman 
Lyrics: Gulzar 

The seventies and eighties saw the height of the RD-Asha combination, even when the 80s were the decade when the average Hindi film song was more noise than melody. But when the duo collaborate with Gulzar, one can expect something spectacular. By this time, Asha had been singing for nearly four decades. Yet, her voice still sounds fresh and crisp like the mountain breezes of the Rohtang Pass, where this song was filmed, in this 80s melody. 

And when one talks of ‘atypical’ Asha numbers, this one tops my list. The awakening of romantic feelings, the hint of yearning, the frisson of anticipation… all the emotions embodied in the lyrics are present in Asha’s voice. 

Man anand anand chhayo (with Pt. Satya Sheel Deshpande) 
Vijeta (1982) 
Music: Ajit Verman 
Lyrics: Vasant Dev 

 
Asha is not the first singer you think of when you think of ‘classical’ songs, which just goes to show how we, as listeners (or audiences), box an artiste into being a stereotype. Most people tend to forget that Asha was a classically trained singer. Thankfully, she broke free of these artificial barriers several times in her career. Here, with Pt. Satya Sheel Deshpande (lending his voice to D. Bhatawadekar) singing the sargam towards the end of the song, Asha (singing for Rekha) sings as only she can. On screen, Rekha did an equally good job of ‘singing’, not just lip-syncing. 

Twelve composers, twelve songs. Songs that span decades, genres and moods. Obscure songs from obscure films, or lesser-known songs from films where other songs became more popular – but songs so melodious, so sweetly sung that they deserve to be better known. 

For Asha Bhosle, with gratitude – for as long as our hearts beat, your voice will echo in our souls.