When Lata Mangeshkar passed away, A R Rahman was devastated. Her death also brought another thought into focus: one of India’s last living legends, Asha Bhosle, was ageing and, too often, the country waits until its icons are gone before celebrating them. Here was an artiste whose career stretched across eight decades, who had sung Indian classical, semi-classical and pop, who had helped define every era of modern Indian film music, and who, even in her ’90s, was singing.

That realisation led to Asha Forever, a collaboration between Rahman and Bhosle – a tribute to her life, work and legacy. The project brought together Rahman, students from Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music and Dance in London, and Asha Bhosle, who listened to the young musicians over video calls.

“Everything happened beautifully,” Rahman recalls. But the song’s journey took an unexpected turn. It was delayed by logistical hurdles and pending approvals. Rahman assumed there would be time.

Rahman says, “We were hoping she would live another eight years and reach a hundred.” Asha Bhosle passed away before the song could be completed. “I was pretty shaken. I was constantly following her health. Last year she had a serious issue, but she survived. She became okay. She was walking. She was joking. I thought she had a few more years,” recalls Rahman.

Unable to immediately return to the project, he put it aside. Months later, on World Music Day on June 21, Rahman chose to release the first glimpse of Asha Forever.

For Rahman, the song is also an attempt to change the way India remembers its artists. Rahman shares, “Asha ji – we all know what a legend she is. But in India, we celebrate people only after they’re gone, not when they’re alive. In the West, you see great artistes being celebrated. Everybody comes together and shows appreciation. Here, we give someone a lifetime achievement award and move on. So I thought, why don’t we do something more? She was alive last year and still singing beautifully. I decided to make a song with her to celebrate her legacy and everything she had achieved in life.”

He adds, “We recorded the song last year. Even though she wasn’t keeping well, she came to the studio. We shot the video too. Everything was in place, but unfortunately it got delayed. We were hoping she would live another eight years and reach a hundred. Sadly, that didn’t happen.”

When asked what he thinks the legacy of someone as legendary as Asha Bhosle, Rahman says, “The proof of the pudding is when people come on stage and sing, or when they give interviews and talk. All of that is artistry, not just hearing somebody on a music streaming app. Then people know who’s the real deal, and who’s been produced, or made into an artiste. In this case, I’m a huge fan of both the sisters – Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhosle – and, in fact, all three, Hridaynath Mangeshkar, too. Through this song, we are not only celebrating Asha ji, but the entire family. We adore people like them – who are relentless, who form a very strong foundation. They’re embedded in the veins of India, in the motion. Both sisters have such strong personalities that they don’t overlap. They were not in competition with each other, and that’s fantastic.”

Can music help cope with grief? For Rahman, “Grief is part of the true self.” He explains, “If somebody has empathy, they have love. And if they have love, they have empathy. Music is all about that. Every chord, every melodic counterpoint – if it doesn’t affect you, if it doesn’t stir a feeling within you, it’s not music at all. I come from both the old school and the new school, so for me, all of that becomes notes — notes through which to express something.”

“And grief is not...” he pauses. “Grief has to be beautified in music. It has to be coloured in a way that people can experience that grief and still find beauty in it. You know, like ghazals are. It’s beautiful.”

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There is often much discussion about an artiste’s legacy after they pass away. For Rahman, that legacy is far beyond the songs. “For me, it’s not just the songs. It’s the way they’ve handled life, the way they’ve navigated musical complexities, the way they’ve remained relentless in pursuing excellence.”

Discussing Asha Bhosle’s attention to detail and her commitment to excellence, Rahman says that even when she was unwell last year, she never compromised.

“Even then, she would say, ‘Use the right voice, okay? Use the right takes.’ She was very, very particular about it. She’d say, ‘I know you’ll do it, but I still have to tell you.’ She cared deeply about how she sounded. All of that is part of the legacy. The whole 360 degrees of who they are.”

This is that time in Jamie Lever’s comedy calendar when she’s revising her act, tweaking jokes, adding something and subtracting what doesn’t work. The last-minute changes are on, as the comedienne gears up for The Jamie Lever Show in the city in less than a week. Giving her company in her pursuit is her uncle and mentor, Jimmy Moses. “I spent three months working on the script. My uncle has been with me throughout. As they say, comedy is a serious business,” she begins.

Lever shares she consciously approaches even a dancing reel on Instagram with the same sincerity. “A lot of young girls are looking up to me. I get messages like, ‘Didi, I’m inspired by you. We want to be multifaceted like you.’ So, I want to ace every performance, whether I am with Salman Khan on Bigg Boss or I am making a small reel,” she explains.

Naturally, there are consequences, or compromises as Lever, one of the busiest comediennes in the country, puts it. “I compromise a lot in my personal life. I’ve reached an age where one should have kids. There are these thoughts like ‘I’ve come so far, but I don’t have a lot of things that my friends have.’ But I give priority to comedy,” she says. “The only way I have come this far is because I have the luxury of time and the freedom because I’m single.”

If today her goal is to inspire younger women, the 20-something Lever had a far more personal one. “When I began, my fight was just to prove myself, to prove that I deserve to be here. My dad also said, ‘Tu thodi na paise ke liye kaam kar rahi hai. But if you want to be in this field, you have to prove yourself.’”

She recalls how protective he had been as a father, and how it surprised her that when the time came, he took a step back and let her take the stage. “He was shocked when I shared my wish to be a comedienne. I remember I was in the UK, doing a Masters in Marketing. I had a job. So, he had no idea. I also used to think that I might not get the permission to do it, and that I didn’t have what it takes to be a comic.”

“Since childhood, he has been very protective. He had a lot of rules: no sleepovers or trips, no coming home late. From there, to letting me be in this field and lending me his support the way he did was a big shift. When I decided that I was going to work in this field, my mother was surprised by how my dad’s heart just changed. He let me go out of his protective arms. My mother says that he changed as a human. He told me, ‘I could see some talent in you and I don’t want to be the one to stop that.’” 

Today, of course, the father-daughter duo performs on stage, another anomaly in a society where despite several female star kids, the expectation remains that the male child will continue his father’s legacy. “Growing up I didn’t even have any examples of a comedian’s daughter making it in comedy,” she says. It was around 2012 that Lever began her career, performing at The Comedy Store, Mumbai. She made her television debut on the 2013 season of Comedy Circus, titled Comedy Circus Ke Mahabali.

While her father let her out from under his wings, his surname went with her, and Lever confesses it has brought immense privilege. “When I started my journey, I automatically had a fan following, which I did not have to work for. And that happens with star kids,” she says.

Being her father’s daughter also means easy acceptance from within the industry. Over the last few years, Lever has risen to popularity mimicking several Bollywood celebrities like Farah Khan, Kareena Kapoor Khan, Sonam Kapoor and the late Asha Bhosle. 

“I get a lot of support from the industry because everybody feels ‘Yeh toh apne Johnny bhai ki beti hai’. In fact, so many people tell me to mimic them. Once, Usha Uthup ji called me, saying, ‘You have mimicked Asha [Bhosle], do me too.’ Javed Akhtar called me to his house and asked me to perform for him and Shabana ji,” she shares. But the comedienne is mindful that impersonations don’t turn into insults. 

“I have always been clear that I can’t disrespect my father’s colleagues or his fans. Just imagine if I were to do below-the-belt comedy, it would be so disturbing for his fans,” she says, adding, “My dad always told me, ‘Don’t take advantage of this privilege’.”

The passing of legendary playback singer Asha Bhosle on April 12 at the age of 92 marks the end of an era in Indian music. Tributes have poured in from across the industry, but among the most heartfelt is that of singer Shaan, who shared intimate memories of his conversations and bond with the icon.

For Shaan, his connection with Asha Bhosle was not defined merely by professional admiration, but by personal warmth and unexpected moments. He has been a part of multiple shows and performed with her on stage for decades.

“I've had the privilege and the good fortune of having a lot of conversations with Asha ji on the phone,” he recalled. “Mostly I would never know how to reach out to her. So she would call… whenever she would call, we would get to speak.”

One such memory remains etched vividly in his mind, a late-night call that came without warning. “It was quite late that night, around 11 or 11:30, and suddenly I see her name flashing on my phone,” he said.

True to her personality, Asha Ji skipped pleasantries. “She was always very straight to the point… she said, ‘Accha sun, Tera beta gaane laga hai main sunn rahi hoon. Log keh rahe hain ki theek thaak hi gaata hai woah. Yaad hai, humne jab show kiya tha tab tere god mein tha woh.’ So, I told her that was my older boy. That show was in 2004 when we had performed in London together. Soham was crying and she said, ‘Isko godi mein le le’ and I held him up. And that time she announced on stage, ‘Yeh jo baccha dekh rahe ho aap, iske Dadaji, (my father) ke saath maine perform kiya tha. Aaj bete ke saath perform kar rahi hoon aur jab yeh baccha bada ho jayega, main iske saath bhi perform karoongi!’”

And that is what she reminded me again. “She said, ‘Ab toh tera beta bada ho gaya hai, bula usko ghar pe, kuch gaana kartein hain uske saath!’ I was absolutely stunned. The fact that she remembered all this and actually said that about my son. I told my son Mahi. And he was absolutely elated. He took her blessings.”

Despite the emotional weight of that invitation, Shaan admits he never followed up. “I didn’t know how to really go about doing that,” he said. “Whenever she would call, we would speak… but I rarely reached out to her. I guess its my personality that I never reached out to her.” That hesitation now lingers as a quiet regret. “And now, I guess I never will,” he said.

Beyond memories, Shaan emphasized the profound influence Asha Bhosle had on his life and career. “I have always mentioned this-Asha ji’s aashirwaad and fondness for my voice will remain my greatest take back from my singing career,” he said. “No other achievement or compliment can match up.” He described her as a towering inspiration. “She is my greatest inspiration to work hard and focus on what is in one’s control.”

As the industry reflects on her unparalleled contribution, Shaan echoed a sentiment shared by many: that Asha Bhosle’s legacy is simply beyond comparison. “Her body of work is unparalleled… she has set the bar so high that it’s impossible for anyone to match up,” he said. Yet, even in her absence, her influence remains indelible. “She will continue to inspire and give us hope that if we work hard, there is no limit to what we can achieve.”

Over 10 days after the passing of Asha Bhosle, her grandson Chaitanya Bhosle — better known as Chin2 Bhosle — is still trying to process the loss. “We all thought she’d live with us till 100,” he said, within minutes of getting on a call with us.    

Bhosle’s demise has left a void in the musician’s life, and he is attempting to fill it with the one language the legendary singer stood for — music. He has released a tribute video, titled Chalte Chalte, in her memory.

“[Earlier] I had written a song called Chalte Chalte for her. It was about death and moving on. [The lines went] ‘Chalte chalte aage chalke, na mudke, ya rukke…’ When I played it to her, she broke down. It reminded her of my father [Hemant Bhosle], and my aunt Varsha. She said she couldn’t sing it as the song was too painful.”

After her passing, Chin2 decided that the song would become his tribute to her. He reflected, “I said no to the idea of doing a formal tribute because it felt too personal. Then I realized the tribute already existed. I put together a video of our moments together, and used the song that she loved but couldn’t sing. I could think of no better way of saying goodbye.”

For her fans, Bhosle has left behind a treasure trove of unforgettable songs and countless memories. Not just that, Chin2 revealed that there are a few unreleased songs too.

“She had recorded a couple of songs with A R Rahman. She had even played me a few of them. I don’t know how they will be released, but they will come out.”

Chin2 Bhosle revealed that even in her final days, Asha Bhosle remained exactly who she always was — spirited and in love with life.

“She had snuck out of the house with her driver and help to watch a Marathi play. The next day, she acted out scenes from the play for us,” he recalled.

For Shabana Azmi, the voice of late Asha Bhosle has always been more than music — it is a feeling, a memory and a lifelong companion. Her tribute reflects not just admiration for an extraordinary artiste, but deep affection for someone who became family over the years.

For Azmi, Asha Bhosle is far more than a celebrated playback singer - she is an irreplaceable artistic force. “Asha ji has been my most favourite singer of all times. Unki aawaz mein jo ras hai jo shararat hai — it’s unmatched,” she says, capturing the essence of a voice that brought emotion, playfulness, and depth to every song.

Over the years, the legendary singer lent her voice to several songs picturised on Azmi, elevating her performances on screen. Memorable collaborations include Phir Se Aaiyo Badra Bidesi from Namkeen and Ambar Ki Ek Paak Surahi from Kadambari, where Asha’s evocative singing perfectly complemented Azmi’s nuanced acting. In Sameera (1981), Bhosle sang multiple tracks, including Zindagi Hum Tere Haal Par and Jaane Na Doongi, further strengthening their artistic association.

While their professional collaborations were significant, it is the personal moments that Azmi cherishes most. “During Covid we became very close because we were stuck in Khandala and she with family were in Lonavala,” she recalls. “She would cook the most delicious meals for us and between Javed and her we would be regaled with hilarious anecdotes from the industry and cheeky humour,” she says.

These shared experiences reveal another side of the legendary singer — one marked by warmth, wit, and generosity. “Her memory is phenomenal and she could be very candid,” Azmi adds, evoking evenings filled with laughter, storytelling, and companionship.

What stands out most for Azmi is not just Bhosle’s voice, but her fearless approach to life and music. “What I admire most is her gumption, her fearlessness and her desire to take risks and push her own parameters,” she says.

This spirit of constant reinvention has defined Bhosle’s remarkable career, allowing her to experiment across genres and remain relevant across decades — qualities that Azmi deeply admires. “Her voice will remain immortal but what I will cherish are the memories she has left behind for us,” she says.

Asha Bhosle’s penchant for reinvention was never quite restricted to singing. At 79, the veteran singer expanded her art and made her acting debut with the Hindi film, Mai (2013), directed by Mahesh Kodiyal. 

When mid-day reached out to the director, currently based in Las Vegas, he expressed his sadness at the passing of the legend. “It’s shattering news. Having Ashaji in my film was a milestone in my life,” he said.

Casting Bhosle as an Alzheimer’s patient in the Padmini Kolhapure-starrer was an unusual choice. Was it the director’s gut feeling that led him to cast her instead of an actor? Almost, said Kodiyal, adding, “In the concept stage, I wove in a lullaby to be sung by Asha ji. On the day of recording it, while I was narrating the song’s situation to her, I realized that I had discovered my actress in my singer. Asha ji’s enthusiasm and passion during the workshop and shooting were unmatched. Her dedication to match or outdo her co-stars was extraordinary.”

The late singer’s sincerity extended to her acting too. Recalling his fondest memory with her, Kodiyal shared, “For a scene where I had to film Asha ji in torrential rain, she sat patiently in drenched clothes through several retakes without complaining. After the shot was okayed, she was shivering. Yet, she asked me if I wanted a retake. I couldn’t resist touching her feet [seeing] her dedication.”

The passing of Asha Bhosle on Sunday in Mumbai has left a profound void in Indian music. For veteran actor Saira Banu, the loss is both personal and deeply emotional.

“I had spoken to her during Ramzan, but then I didn’t realise that would be our last conversation. When I heard about her health, it was a complete shock,” she tells us, adding, “I saw a video of her at a function (cricketer Arjun Tendulkar’s wedding in March). She looked so weak. I had never imagined she would become unwell so suddenly.”

Looking back at their early years, Banu, 81, paints a vivid portrait of Bhosle’s warmth. “Lata bai (Bhosle’s sister, late veteran Lata Mangeshkar) sang for me most of the time. But whenever Asha tai recorded for me, she would be in a playful mood,” she shares.

Banu recalls shooting for the 1961 film Junglee, when she was “very young” and her voice was “quite thin”: “While singing (in the recording studio), Asha tai would gesture towards her throat, as if to say that she was matching my softer pitch. It would make me laugh endlessly!”

Beyond the humour, Banu also remembers Asha’s personality, which she believes is the reason behind her legacy. “There was something regal about her presence. She carried herself beautifully,” she says.

“She and Lata bai were like family. Dilip sa’ab (Kumar, late actor and Banu’s husband) and I shared so many moments with them: music, conversations, food. Losing her feels like losing a part of that world. It’s a void that can never truly be filled,” she ends.

Actor Padmini Kolhapure’s association with late singer Asha Bhosle goes beyond films; it is rooted in family. The two, who worked together in Mai (2013) — Bhosle’s acting debut at 79 — are connected through Padmini’s father, late Pandharinath Kolhapure, a first cousin of Bhosle and her sister, late singer Lata Mangeshkar.

“She introduced me to (late actor) Dev Anand, because of which I landed my debut Ishk Ishk Ishk (1974). I called her Asha atya [father’s sister in Marathi]. As a child, I remember her coming home every Diwali with a bag full of gifts,” she shares.

Talking about Bhosle’s decision to take on Mai, the 60-year-old reveals, “I remember her saying, ‘I will only do the film if Padmini is in it’.”

She also lists some of her favourite songs sung by Bhosle that were picturised on her. “Kabhi Kisiko Muqammal Jahan Nahi Milta (Ahista Ahista, 1981), Puchho Na Yaar Kya Hua (Zamaane Ko Dikhana Hai, 1981), Anari Ka Khelna (Woh 7 Din, 1983), and so many more,” she says.

Kolhapure fondly recalls more intimate memories: “On her last birthday, she gifted Poonam (Dhillon, actor-politician) and me saris from her personal collection. Her favourite dish was Mooga Mole Randai, a Saraswat dish from the coastal regions of Goa, Karwar and Mangalore. She especially loved the one my father would prepare.”

Singer Asha Bhosle died on Sunday at the age of 92 due to multi-organ failure. With a career spanning over eight decades and 12,000 songs, she left a legacy as one of India’s most versatile voices, transforming music across genres.

Now, recalling her final memory of the singer, veteran actor Mumtaz says, “I rushed when I heard she was hospitalized… I wanted to speak to her, but couldn’t as the doctors informed us she is critical. As I was leaving the hospital a few minutes later, her family called to say she had passed away. The next day I visited her home, and when I saw Asha ji, her face had a certain noor.”

The duo has delivered hits such as Koi Shahri Babu (Loafer, 1973) and Duniya Mein Logon Ko (Apna Desh, 1972). “Asha ji would always tell me the song Aaja O Mere Raja has been the most difficult song of her career because of the voice variations,” the 78-year-old shares.

Sharing personal memories from their days as neighbours in Mumbai’s Walkeshwar, she shares, “I remember lying in Asha ji and Lata (Mangeshkar, Bhosle’s sister and late veteran singer) ji’s lap when they would do riyaz with their tanpura.”

Earlier, Mumtaz had shared a video from Diwali 2023 on Instagram, dancing with the late singer that had instantly gone viral.

“We danced at Asha ji’s home… Jackie Shroff (actor) had egged me on to get her on the floor, but she was shy,” the veteran recalls.

The late singer’s mortal remains arrive at her residence, Casa Grand, in Lower Parel, Mumbai, around 4.45 pm. Pic/Shadab Khan

The Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) and Mumbai Police are making preparations for the funeral of Asha Bhosle, which is to take place at the Shivaji Park crematorium in Dadar West at 4 pm on Monday.

Crowd-control measures by the authorities will ensure visitors who want to pay homage to the singer can do so. If required, separate access corridors will be made for the public and for VIPs and family members. 

Vinayak Vispute, assistant commissioner of the G North ward, confirmed that the last rites will be held at the Shivaji Park crematorium. Meanwhile, in a statement to mid-day on Sunday evening, a BMC official said, “The civic administration has recent references of the preparations that were required for the last rites of Lata Mangeshkar and Ratan Tata, in terms of on-ground implementation and coordination required to facilitate a large influx of crowd. The BMC is coordinating with the police to ensure law and order preparations, also.”

At Bhosle’s residence in Lower Parel, where her mortal remains were brought on Sunday evening for loved ones to pay their respects, locals gathered in quiet remembrance. Jagdeesh Chaurasiya, a pan stall owner nearby, said, “I listen to her songs day in and day out. The mark she has left is not a small one. The whole of the country will remember her for all the memories she has given us.”

Inputs by Madhulika Ram Kavattur

Asha Bhosle offers her blessings to then up and coming cricketer Mali Richards, the son of West Indies cricketing great Sir Viv Richards, at the CCI in 2005. PIC/Santosh Harhare, mid-day archives

They say that a small tree can never grow under the shade of a big one, but if anyone proved it wrong, it was Asha ji. Lata ji [Mangeshkar] was a goddess [in Hindi playback singing]; no singer could hold their own in front of her. Many singers tried to sing like her. But Asha ji developed her own style of singing and created her own identity. The Mangeshkar sisters ruled the Indian film music industry for over 55 years.

Life experiences create depth, and that was present in both of them. She sang her first song when she was only 10 years old. That means an 83-year career and what an impact she has left!

I will always remember what Ashaji told me once. She said, ‘When you look for happiness in life and relationships, you may be hurt. True happiness lies only in your work. If you think you have done your work well, that will give you true satisfaction.’

Among my favourite songs that I had written for her is Radha Kaise Na Jale from Lagaan [2001]. There is also Kanha Jo Aaye Palat Ke from Sardari Begum [1996]. When I would write the lyrics, I would know that only Ashaji could sing it.

In Rahul Rawail’s film [Aur Pyaar Ho Gaya, 1997], she was to sing a song with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. It was a challenging tune, and Asha ji realized it was her agni pariksha. She heard it twice with rapt attention before going behind the mic. When she sang it, Nusrat Fateh Ali couldn’t stop saying, ‘Waah, waah!’

Javed Akhtar recalled how he interviewed Lata Mangeshkar for a TV channel, where she reflected on her sister Asha Bhosle’s versatility. He said, “Lata ji told me, ‘Asha can sing the songs that I have. Lekin Asha ne jo saare gaane gaye hai, woh saare gaane main nahin gaa sakti’.”

A still from the song ‘Raat Akeli Hai’ sung by Asha Bhosle

Dil Padosi Hai (1987). It’s difficult to say how many odes to Asha Bhosle will pause to acknowledge this remarkable non-film album, but for me, it remains the work that sealed my conviction of her singularity. By then, of course, I was familiar with the well-circulated highlights of her film career. But Dil Padosi Hai revealed something deeper. Across its 14 tracks, penned by Gulzar and composed by R D Burman, she stretched effortlessly across moods and idioms: from the classically inflected serenity of Bheeni Bheeni Bhor, to the sensuous playfulness of Raat Christmas Ki Thi. It is in albums like this that one encounters Bhosle not just as a voice of songs, but as an artiste of boundless imagination: restless, refined, and entirely inimitable.

Bhosle leaves behind a musical legacy so vast and varied that it resists easy summation. She was not merely one of the defining voices of Indian cinema; she continuously reshaped what that voice could be. 

Born in 1933 in Sangli, Maharashtra, into the illustrious Mangeshkar family, she grew up in an environment steeped in music. While her elder sister Lata Mangeshkar quickly rose to become the pre-eminent playback singer of her time, Bhosle carved her own path, often navigating the film industry’s margins before stepping into its centre. In her early years, she was frequently assigned songs that others declined — cabaret numbers, dance tracks, or compositions for secondary characters. But what might have been a limitation became, in time, her greatest strength. Songs like Ab Ke Baras from Bandini (1963) and Raat Akeli Hai from Jewel Thief (1967) offer evidence of the depth, nuance, and vivacity she could bring to a composition even when these were not shot on the ‘heroine’.

Her breakthrough came in the 1950s, particularly through her collaboration with composer O P Nayyar. Songs like Aaiye Meherban (Howrah Bridge, 1950) and Yeh Hai Reshmi Zulfon (Mere Sanam, 1965) carried a modern, rhythmic vitality that set them apart. Bhosle’s voice introduced a new sensibility to Hindi film music, one that allowed for flirtation, mischief, and urban sophistication.

If Nayyar helped establish her identity, it was her partnership with Burman that expanded it exponentially. Their creative synergy produced some of the most memorable songs in Indian cinema. From the infectious energy of Aaja Aaja (Teesri Manzil, 1966) to the haunting introspection of Mera Kuch Saamaan (Ijaazat, 1987), Bhosle demonstrated a remarkable ability to inhabit vastly different emotional landscapes. Her voice could be sensuous, rebellious, tender, or melancholic, often within the span of a single film.

She did not just adapt to genres; she redefined them. She brought a distinctive flair to cabaret songs, lent depth to ghazals, embraced pop and Indipop with equal ease, and even ventured into international collaborations. Her foray beyond film music found a fresh audience in the late 1990s with Jaanam Samjha Karo (1997), a non-film album composed by Leslee Lewis. Its standout track, the lilting Raat Shabnami, became an immediate favourite, connecting her with a younger generation.

She continued to explore diverse collaborations, teaming up with Adnan Sami on Kabhi To Nazar Milao, and even Australian cricketer Brett Lee on You’re The One for Me. In 2006, she received her second Grammy nomination for You’ve Stolen My Heart: Songs from R D Burman’s Bollywood, a project recorded with the Kronos Quartet that reinterpreted her late husband’s music for a global audience. And balancing these crowd-pleasers were albums like Legacy, recorded with Ustad Ali Akbar Khan, which fetched her first Grammy nomination in 1997.

With her passing, an era of Indian music draws to a close. She helped shape not just an industry, but the emotional vocabulary of a nation. And yet, her legacy is not confined to nostalgia. It lives on in the countless songs that continue to resonate across time, in the artistes she inspired, and in the very idea of what a playback singer can be.

In the end, Bhosle did more than sing. She transformed music into an expression of life in all its complexity, playful and profound, ephemeral and eternal. With her departure, the silence she leaves behind is immense, but so too is the echo of her voice, which will continue to be heard for generations  to come.

(An editor by profession, Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri has edited The Swinging Seventies: Stars, Style and Substance in Hindi Films, the anthology on ’70s Bollywood) 

Some voices are heard, and some, felt. Asha Bhosle was always felt. She had that rare gift of turning every song into a lived emotion. For all of us in music, she was a benchmark we measured ourselves against. Not just for her range or versatility, but for her courage. She never allowed herself to be defined by one sound or era. She kept pushing boundaries.

She and Pancham da [R D Burman] were close to my father, PL Raj. I still remember the first time I met her — this was at Duke’s Retreat in Khandala. When my father told her I liked playing the guitar, she didn’t indulge me with polite praise. She simply said, ‘Music is not for everyone. Focus on your studies.’

Years later, I was approached to work on a project with Asha ji. Initially, I was hesitant, but I was told that R D Burman had wanted to recreate his old songs in a new style with me. That’s how the remix project, Rahul & I, began. The brief was simple: introduce Asha ji to a new generation. 

Working with her wasn’t easy at first. She was used to a different recording style, where the voice dominated and the arrangement followed. I was [using] tighter grooves, modern production, and a new sonic space. Initially, she resisted. She even walked out at one point, saying, ‘This is not how I sing’.

To her credit, she came back. She gave it a chance. Slowly, she began to understand that the sound was fresh and exciting. 

When the album released, suddenly, Asha ji was ‘young’ again in the eyes of a new audience. 

Working with Asha tai was like going to school every day. Legends like her understand the composer’s thought, and then gently elevate it without ever overpowering it. 

Today, there is a sense of loss. But her music will never pause. It will keep inspiring generations. Because artistes like Asha ji don’t belong to a time — they become time itself.

Asha Bhosle, whose incandescent voice lit up film screens over more than seven decades, died in Mumbai on Sunday.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi called her “one of the most iconic and versatile voices India has ever known.” Her voice had a “timeless brilliance” that elevated soulful melodies and vibrant compositions, he said.

Bollywood star Shah Rukh Khan described her voice as “one of the pillars of Indian cinema” and would continue to resonate around the world for centuries. Filmmaker Ram Gopal Varma said her voice gave Rangeela (1995) “an immortal soul and raw, youthful fire.” The title track Rangeela Re was a thunderclap that shook Bollywood, he said.

Cricket great Sachin Tendulkar called it “a deeply sad day for India, and for music lovers across the world,” saying time itself seemed to have paused, though her eternal songs would keep her timeless forever.

Ashalata Dinanath Mangeshkar was born September 8, 1933, making her debut as a singer in the Hindi film industry in the film Chunariya in 1948 at the age of 15. Three women dominated female playback singing at the time — her sister Lata Mangeshkar, Shamshad Begum and Geeta Dutt. Against this backdrop, carving out a niche was an almost insurmountable challenge. But she was undaunted, trekking from one studio to another, meeting one music director after another. She began to sing in low-budget films such as Madari (1950), Titli (1951) and Thokar (1953).

“Lata ji never reduced her fees. This fact worked in Asha ji’s favour. Music directors who could not afford Lata ji’s fees collaborated with Asha ji,” said veteran music critic Rajiv Vijayakar.

It was in 1957 that the turning point came in the form Naya Daur, when music director O P Nayyar brought out the best in her on an upbeat soundtrack brimming with hits, showcasing her vocals alongside those of Mohammed Rafi. She and Nayyar would go on to collaborate on other hit musicals such as Tumsa Nahin Dekha (1957), Howrah Bridge (1958), Kashmir Ki Kali (1964) and Mere Sanam (1965).

Life at this point was turbulent on other fronts as well. She married Ganpatrao Bhosale when she was 16 but that wasn’t a happy union, forcing her to become a single parent to three children. Later, she went on to marry R D Burman in 1980.

What made Asha Bhosle stand out were her sheer range and versatility, giving voice to a world of infinite possibilities. She could be the innocent, the nautch girl, the vamp, and, most memorably, the tawaif, delivering an outstanding performance on the Umrao Jaan soundtrack (1981).

In a career spanning more than 78 years, she excelled in almost every emotion, sentiment, mood or genre of Hindi film music, whether it was the cabaret song Piya Tu Ab To Aaja from the film Caravan (1971), the ghazals of Umrao Jaan, or the poignant classical song Mana Anand Bhayo in Vijeta (1996). She gave her voice to actors ranging from Madhubala, Vyjayanthimala and Asha Parekh to Mumtaz, Helen, Zeenat Aman, Rekha, Urmila Matondkar, Kajol and Madhuri Dixit.

Among her international collaborations, one of the last was her appearance on the Gorillaz album, The Mountain, released earlier this year. She also collaborated with Michael Stipe of rock band R.E.M. on the 2002 track The Way You Dream and with Boy George in 1991 for Bow Down Mister. Incidentally, UK band Cornershop’s tribute, Brimful of Asha, became a hit in the late 1990s after a Fatboy Slim remix.

“The range and versatility of Asha ji’s singing is unmatchable,” said Lalit Pandit of the music director duo Jatin-Lalit. “In playback singing, there are two types of singers — one who has a melodious voice and sings what a music director has created. But an artiste like Asha ji added new dimensions and nuances to songs. In the song Zara Jhoom Loo Main (Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, 1995), just listen carefully to how she sings the words ‘thandi thandi pawan.’ It is her contribution. It took the song to another level.”

This ability to add subtle detailing became a hallmark of her career. Her collaboration with music director R D Burman in films such as Teesri Manzil (1966), Caravan (1971) and Ijaazat (1987) would spawn all-time classics Aaja Aaja, Daiyya Main Kahan Aa Phasi and Mera Kuch Saaman.

These underscored not only her vocal range but her intricate understanding of music. In fact, the initial inspiration for the composition of the song Mera Kuch Saaman from Ijaazat came from her own humming of the lyrics written by Gulzar.

Music composer Anu Malik, who had a long association with Bhosle, recalled how helpful she was to a newcomer.

“I was only a 17-year-old teenager when Asha ji helped me,” Malik said. “She was at the peak of her career in the 1970s, working with all great directors. But she made time and met me. She sang my first song in the film Hunterwaali (1977). She gave me so much love and affection like her son. This shows her greatness as an artiste who had empathy and care for people around her.

Beyond film music, Bhosle was known for her ghazal collaborations with the legendary Ghulam Ali as well as with Hariharan.

“One of the best qualities in Asha ji was that she always kept with the times,” shares veteran playback singer Udit Narayan. “There are singers whose voice quality deteriorates as they age or reach the last leg of their career. But Asha ji’s voice was always contemporary. This is the mark of a great artiste who represented not just music but the history of Indian cinema.”

Comparisons between the two Mangeshkar sisters were natural but weren’t really justified. “Both sisters must not be compared. Both represent history in different ways. In every field there are comparisons between two great people, whether it is Sachin Tendulkar or Sunil Gavaskar, or singers Pankaj Mullick and K L Saigal,” said Gujarati novelist and former music critic Anil Rawal.

“Both are great and provide a long and sumptuous thali of exquisite and diverse emotions to listeners.”

Bhosle sang more than 12,000 songs for more than 1,000 Hindi films. In addition to this, she sang in 20 Indian and foreign languages. She was awarded the Padma Vibhushan in 2008. Besides this, she won six Filmfare Awards for singing and two National Awards. She received the Dadasaheb Phalke Award in 2000.

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A composer, singer, and producer across independent and film music, Leslee Lewis has been wearing many hats for over three decades. And he is no mood to rest. A few weeks ago, he released Tere Bina Main, a romantic song with a contemporary, loud rock sound, which completed his album, Phir Se Rock and Roll. In a chat with mid-day, Lewis talks about his latest creation and his grouse with the current lot of songwriters. Excerpts from the interview.

No! If it becomes a habit, I won’t release [songs] because then it’s boring. Artistes are childlike. They want to show you, almost as if saying, ‘See, I did this!’

You find so many people in long-distance relationships now. When you both are in the same city, it’s fun. But if your partner gets transferred elsewhere, he says, ‘I love you, but how do you expect that love to continue when you are not with me?’ This song talks about the practical issues of being in a long-distance relationship. We wouldn’t talk about such things 10 years ago. But today’s generation asks these questions.

I’m blessed because what you’re saying is true. I am the same guy who did Piya Tu Ab Toh Aaja [remix] with Asha Bhosle; I am the guy who started indie pop with Paree Hoon Main and Yaaron, who started Colonial Cousins [with Hariharan]. I believe music is a frequency. When I did Paree Hoon Main, today’s parents were the youth then. They resonated with those frequencies. Today, their kids are resonating with these frequencies. Both [age groups] are my fans. What I am bringing with my music is positivity and hope.

There is certain quality to the creation of these songs. That’s why they have lasted. They weren’t put together for the sake of it. Not just the old songs, even Tere Bina Main or my album Phir Se Rock and Roll [have that quality]. From the writing to the compositions, it’s quite complicated, but it’s simplified for the outside world. 

In India, singer-songwriters have become a fad. They [tell] the audience, ‘Look, I went through a bad time. So, I wrote this.’ Don’t tell me stories. Just sing the song. If the song has a story in it, it will connect with the listener. If you can’t connect [naturally] and I have to tell you a story about what happened in my life and why I wrote this song, it’s odd. People should get drawn to the song. As an artiste, you first need to have songs that connect with the audience.

When Tamannaah Bhatia dazzled in Aaj Ki Raat from Stree 2 (2024), it promised a resurgence of special dance numbers. The popular song also guaranteed something else — the breakthrough of a unique voice, Madhubanti Bagchi. Even though she had been singing Hindi film songs since 2019, it took Sachin-Jigar’s composition to mark her arrival. Now that she has reunited with the composers for Tum Mere Na Huye, a dance song in Thamma, mid-day speaks to her about new fame, fear of typecasting, and the challenge of having an unusual voice. Excerpts from the interview.

They wanted the song to be intimate yet cinematic, something that would not just complement the narrative of Thamma, but also stand strong as an individual piece of music. Sachin-Jigar added their signature depth to the composition, ensuring that every note had its own space to breathe. For me, the challenge and joy were to bring that vision alive vocally.

Working with Sachin-Jigar has always been a creatively fulfilling experience. Aaj Ki Raat gave us a chance to explore a high-energy, dynamic sound. With the Thamma track, we ventured into a space that is far more emotional. That contrast speaks volumes about their versatility. What I admire most is how they bring out the best in every singer. They know exactly how to guide you, yet give you the freedom to interpret and make the song your own. With them, it never feels transactional, it feels like a true collaboration.

It feels gratifying and quite humbling. Every singer dreams of their voice reaching millions, but when filmmakers and composers of such calibre trust you repeatedly, it becomes the highest form of validation. What excites me most is the diversity. I’ve lent my voice to some of the most popular leading ladies of today. To adapt my singing to bring alive their emotions on screen has been a challenge as well as a joy.

It’s true that my voice is different from the usual palette in Hindi playback. Breaking in wasn’t instant, there were moments of doubt. But I always focused on staying true to my sound rather than fitting into a mould. What helped was finding the right collaborators — composers like Sachin-Jigar, Pritam da, and Amit Trivedi, and filmmakers like Sanjay Leela Bhansali, who were willing to experiment and give my voice space to tell the story authentically. Once that alignment happened, things started clicking. In the end, I feel fortunate that what initially seemed unconventional became my biggest strength.

I’ve had several dance numbers, but each one has its own personality. At the same time, I actively seek out projects that challenge me vocally. I have sung in Heeramandi [2024] and Coke Studio. Rather than fearing typecasting, I focus on growth and experimentation.

Begum Akhtar for her depth and mastery in ghazals, Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhosle for their range and timeless appeal and Arijit Singh for redefining contemporary playback with his emotive singing.

Asha Bhosle with a young A R Rahman

Beginning her musical journey at the tender age of 10, Padma Vibhushan Asha Bhosle has built an illustrious career spanning over eight decades. A force to reckon with, she is celebrated for her immense talent, versatility, and, above all, her remarkable ability to adapt and evolve with the times. A Guinness World Record holder for being the most recorded artist in music history, Asha Bhosle's enduring legacy is not just rooted in her distinct voice or range—but in the indomitable spirit that continues to define her and her longevity. As she turns 92, she opens her heart, reminiscing about a legendary journey and the timeless landmarks along the way in a heartfelt exclusive with Bombay Times.

I am 92-years-old and I take this opportunity to thank all my well-wishers who have supported me in my long journey. Had it not been for your love, I wouldn’t have made it this far. Every time I hear your applause, it pushes me to go further and test uncharted territories in this vast ocean of music and art. Quite contrary to my public image, I am reclusive at heart. I am shy to discuss my achievements because I have so much more to learn in so little time.

Prior to the advent of cinema (silent cinema then talkies), the only public entertainment platform was theatre. My wonderful actor, singer, composer and writer father, Master Dinanath Mangeshkar owned his own travelling theatre company. I, along with my four siblings (Lata Mangeshkar, Usha Mangeshkar, Meena Khadikar and Hridaynath Mangeshkar) travelled with the theatre company all over India where my father performed these grand musicals to a rapt audience. Therefore, I grew up in an atmosphere of music and the performing arts. It was great that Dadasaheb Phalke laid the foundation of cinema in India but as cinema rose to prominence over the years, our theatre company sadly folded. Soon after, my father passed away in 1942 at the height of The Quit India Movement.

In 1943, World War II was raging in Europe and that’s when I recorded my first Marathi song at the age of 10. Around this time the Battle for Stalingrad in Russia was in full swing. My first record label read ‘British India’. World War Two era was one of rationing and hardships and we often slept on empty stomachs. I remember attending a political rally at Shivaji Park in Mumbai where I first saw Mahatma Gandhi and I was very impressed by his speech and other leaders such as Jawaharlal Nehru, Sardar Patel and Abdul Ghaffar Khan. The partition of India in 1947 was a painful experience for many Indians, but we managed to live through that as well.

When I moved to Mumbai, (then Bombay), the British had left it in pristine shape. It was a grand city, and I was in awe of it. I loved travelling on trams, trains and buses hopping from one studio to the next. Working in the emerging music industry (termed Bollywood today) was full of new experiences. As people heard me sing, more work came my way. Sometimes I recorded as many as 7 songs a day. Years later, I was informed that I had got a mention in the Guinness World Records as the most recorded artist (around 11,000 songs). Honestly, I did not work to break any records.

Music evolves every decade or so. According to me, the first music composer who brought a new exciting western sound to Hindi cinema was C Ramchandra. He experimented with Rock and Roll and took a leaf out from Bill Haley and Elvis Presley’s style of music. Suddenly, that was a rage, and I adapted to this western style to keep up with the times. Then came OP Nayyar with his rustic Punjab folk music sound which went through the roof. I adapted to this style as well and remained relevant. Post O P Nayyar, came the finest musical genius of our times; my late husband Rahul Dev Burman (a prince by birth from the royal family of Tripura, but an Emperor by his deeds). RDB’s revolutionary style of compositions, sound, technique are admired even today. R D Burman passed away in 1994 and a year later in 1995, another musical genius A R Rahman unleashed a fresh new brilliant sound on an unsuspecting audience through Rangeela. When I sang Rangeela Re and Tanha Tanha Yahan Pe Jeena for him, I was 62 years old! I thank ARR for bringing the best out of an elderly person.

I take this opportunity to remember the wonderful singers that I have worked with…my older sister Bharat Ratna Lata Mangeshkar, Padma Shri Mohammed Rafi, Shri Kishore Kumar, Shri Manna Dey, Shri Mukesh, Shri Hemant Kumar, Smt Geeta Dutt, Smt Shamshad Begum and the list goes on. I shared a great rapport with them, not only as colleagues but also as close friends. I recall one common factor between all these great artists - they were all simple human beings without a nasty bone in their system. Unfortunately, most of my close friends and colleagues have passed away and I mourn their loss, a void that can never be filled. On this note, I recall Rafi Saab’s famous song; composed by the late Sachin Dev Burman and penned by the late Kaifi Azmi Sahab…Dekhi Zamane Ki Yaari, Bichhde Sabhi Bari Bari…!

Since my name is Asha (hope), I would like to conclude by saying, I am not done yet. On 12th Sep ‘25, a song sung by me with a very popular British Band shall be launched. I am happy to say that whenever musical boundaries were being broken, I remained the common thread for experimentation by all these great composers of extraordinary calibre. I’m proud to see the growth of my granddaughter Zanai, who is a music composer, writer, singer, classical dancer and an actor. As Mr. AR Rahman recently remarked; that my family (Mangeshkar / Bhosle / Burman) has done nothing but music for 4 generations. He went on to add that this family knows nothing other than music. I take that as a compliment.