Narendra Kusnur traces the late singer’s extraordinary versatility, which set her a class apart

Minutes after the news of singing legend Asha Bhosle’s passing was announced on April 12, the tributes started pouring in. On news websites and TV channels, Facebook and WhatsApp groups, people discussed their favourite songs or remembered her memorable concerts. Like her sister Lata Mangeshkar, she had touched the lives of millions across the globe.

One thing most people praised was Asha’s versatility. According to the Oxford dictionary, the word refers to a “(person) able to do many different things”. In her case, it simply meant her ability to switch from one singing style to another, sounding equally comfortable and convincing in each.

This doesn’t mean that Asha was the only singer to fit that category – from her generation, Mohammed Rafi and Kishore Kumar were equally versatile. And even though Lata was known more for her love songs, sad numbers and ghazals, she ventured into cabaret tunes with ‘Aa Jaaneja’ (Inteqam) and raunchy numbers with ‘Kaanta Laga’ (Samadhi).

Of course, these kinds of songs were Asha’s domain. From the sensuous ‘Aaiye Meherbaan’ (Howrah Bridge) and rebellious ‘Dum Maro Dum’ (Hare Rama Hare Krishna) to the cabaret hit ‘Piya Tu Ab Toh Aaja’ (Caravan) and dance ditty ‘Jawani Jaaneman’ (Namak Halaal), she owned these songs in a way you couldn’t associate them with anyone else.

Over the next few paragraphs, the focus will be only on the kinds of songs she sang, thereby proving her versatility. This isn’t an exhaustive list, and many favourites might be missing. The idea is to showcase her range. 

The early struggles: Asha made her debut in the 1943 Marathi film Majha Bal, where she sang ‘Chala Chala Nav Bala’. After group songs in the 1948 Hindi movies Chunaria and Andhon Ki Duniya, she sang her first Hindi solo songs ‘Hai Mauz Mein Apne Begaane’ and ‘Hamaare Dil Par Tera’, composed by Hansraj Behl in Raat Ki Rani.

Initially, she recorded a lot with A R Qureshi (as tabla maestro Ustad Allarakha was known in the film world), Sajjad Hussain, Sardar Malik and Ghulam Mohammed. In 1950, she sang for Qureshi in Sabak and Madaari. The former’s ‘Dil Mein Shama Jalaake Tere Intezaar Ki’, written by D N Madhok, is still remembered by old-timers. It was a melancholic number sung with pathos.

The children’s songs: Asha had some of her early hits in the 1954 film Boot Polish, where she sang for child artistes. The group songs ‘Nanhe Munhe Bachche’ and ‘Theher Ja O Jaane Waale’, composed by Shankar-Jaikishan, marked the beginning of her success. In the 1955 film Vachan, she sang ‘Chanda Mama Door Ke’ for Ravi, and six years later, they released ‘Daadi Amma, Daadi Amma’, a duet with Kamal Barot in Gharana. For S D Burman, she appeared on one of the versions of ‘Tum Jeeyo Hazaaron Saal’ (Sujata).

The evergreen duets: This section could fill up many pages, but we’d stick to some top-of-the-mind numbers. They began with the 1957 film Naya Daur, where she sang ‘Maang Ke Saath Tumhara’ and ‘Ude Jab Jab Zulfen’ with Mohammed Rafi, with O.P. Nayyar composing the music. Nayyar and the two singers also produced ‘Bahut Shukriya, Badi Meherbani’ and ‘Aap Yun Hi Agar Humse Milte Rahe’ in Ek Musafir Ek Hasina, and ‘Ishaaron Ishaaron Mein’ and ‘Deewana Hua Baadal’ in Kashmir Ki Kali. The Rafi-Asha combination also yielded ‘Abhi Na Jaao Chhod Kar’ with composer Jaidev in Hum Dono and ‘Chura Liya’ with R D Burman in Yaadon Ki Baraat.

She had many hits with Kishore too, including ‘Chhod Do Aanchal’ (Paying Guest), ‘Haal Kaisa Hai’ (Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi), ‘Jaan-e-Jaan Dhoondta Phir Raha’ (Jawani Diwani) and ‘Inteha Ho Gayi’ (Sharaabi). There were female duets too, like ‘Kajra Mohabbat Waala’ with Shamshad Begum in Kismat, and ‘Mann Kyon Behka’ with Lata in Utsav.

The solo classics: Again, there were so many – ‘Aaiye Meherbaan’ in Howrah Bridge, ‘Jaaiye Aap Kahaan’ and ‘Yeh Hai Reshmi Zulfon Ka’ in Mere Sanam, and ‘Aao Huzoor Tumko’ in Kismat, all with Nayyar. With Ravi, there was the immortal ‘Aage Bhi Jaane Na Tu’ in Waqt. Though it had male voices, ‘Do Lafzon Ki in The Great Gambler primarily focused on her singing. Years later, Ijaazat featured her solo songs ‘Mera Kuchh Saamaan’, ‘Khali Haath Shaam’ and ‘Katra Katra’, composed by R D Burman and written by Gulzar. There’s one more film containing her solo songs, but we’ll mention that in another category.

The cabaret hits: The first song that comes to mind is ‘Piya Tu’, filmed on Helen and composed by R.D. Burman in Caravan. Other cabaret songs are ‘Mera Naam Hai Shabnam’ (Kati Patang), ‘Aao Na Gale Lagaon Na’ (Mere Jeevan Saathi), ‘Kaanp Rahi Main’ (Joshila) and ‘Aaj Ki Raat Aane Ko Hai’ (Anamika,). Incidentally, all these were by RD.

Image courtesy: Spotify

The breezy foot-tappers: More from the RD-Asha combo. We’ll begin with ‘Aaja Aaja’ and ‘O Haseena Zulfonwali’ from Teesri Manzil, which marked the beginning of this style in 1966. Then we head to ‘Dum Maro Dum’, picturised on Zeenat Aman in Hare Rama Hare Krishna. The playlist can include ‘Duniya Mein Logon Ko’ (Apna Desh), ‘Jab Andhera Hota Hai’ (Raja Rani), ‘Hum Tum Gumsum’ (Humshakal), ‘Khullam Khulla Pyaar Karenge’ (Khel Khel Mein) and ‘Khatouba’ (Alibaba Aur 40 Chor).

These kinds of songs became her trademark, and much later, she sang ‘Tanha Tanha’ for A.R. Rahman in Rangeela, ‘Le Gayi Le Gayi’ for Uttam Singh in Dil To Pagal Hai and ‘Kambakht Ishq’ for Sandeep Chowta in Pyaar Tune Kya Kiya.

Disco: The disco wave was huge in the early 1980s, with music director Bappi Lahiri creating many hits, mainly with Usha Uthup. Though Asha didn’t make a full-fledged mark in this genre, she had a couple of big hits. Two big successes – ‘Jawani Jaaneman’ in Namak Halaal and ‘Disco Station Disco’ in Haathkadi – were composed by Lahiri.

Ghazals and associated music: When director Muzaffar Ali cast Rekha to play a Lucknow tawaif in Umrao Jaan, music director Khayyam immediately thought of Asha to sing her songs. Along with lyricist Shahryar, they created the evergreen solo numbers ‘In Aankon Ki Masti’, ‘Dil Cheez Kya Hai’, ‘Yeh Kya Jagah Hai Doston’ and ‘Justajoo Jiski Thi’. She and Khayyam also collaborated on the 1997 album Asha Aur Khayyam, containing light songs.

Among pure ghazal projects, Asha teamed up with Pakistani maestro Ghulam Ali on Meraj-e-Ghazal, which had the songs ‘Salona Sa Sajan’ and ‘Yun Sajaa Chand’, and with Hariharan on Aabshaar-e-Ghazal. In 2006, she worked on Love Supreme with musician Somesh Mathur, and sang her own take of popular ghazals and nazms. Her video of ‘Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo’ became popular.

Classical music: In 1995, the singer worked with sarod maestro Ustad Ali Akbar Khan on Legacy, which contained Indian music from the 16th to 18th century. It used khayal, dhrupad, tarana and hori in various ragas like Kukubh Bilawal, Miyan Ki Malhar, Bhimpalasi, Adana, Bhoop and Bhairavi.

Indipop and private albums: In 1987, Asha teamed up with Burman and Gulzar on the album Dil Padosi Hai, which became a fan favourite. A decade later, noticing the popularity of Indipop, Asha teamed up with composer Leslie Lewis and lyricist Majrooh Sultanpuri on the 1997 album Jaanam Samjha Karo. The song ‘Raat Shabnami’ became a hit, and the album fetched her an MTV award. She later composed her own album Aap Ki Asha, with lyrics by Sultanpuri. More recently, in keeping with the new trend of singles, she released the song ‘Saiyaan Bina’ with composer Nitin Shankar. She appeared in the video with her grand-daughter Zanai, who did a classical dance.

Remixes: In the mid-1990s, many labels and musicians began remixing older songs, including R.D. Burman’s hits. In order to create her own versions of these songs, Asha teamed up with Leslie Lewis to produce Rahul & I, an album of remixes. In 2005, she joined the US-based Kronos Quartet on the album You’ve Stolen My Heart, featuring Burman’s songs with fresh string arrangements.

Regional language songs: Though her repertoire spanned many languages, she sang a good chunk in Marathi, her mother tongue, and Bengali. Some Marathi films in which Bhosle rendered her voice were Manini, Molkarin, Jait Re Jait, Gharkul and Maratha Tituka Melvava. She also sang many abhangs and devotional songs. A clip of her recently singing the popular ‘Mala He Dattaguru Disle’ at home has gone viral. 

In Bengali, she has sung the songs of Sudhin Dasgupta, Nachiketa Ghosh, R.D. Burman and Bappi Lahiri. Her rendition of Burman’s ‘Chokhe Naame Bristhi’ (‘Jaane Kya Baat Hai’ in Hindi) became a huge success.

International collaborations: In 1991, British musician Boy George used Asha’s vocals in his song ‘Bow Down Mister’, though she wasn’t credited in the single. She subsequently did songs with Brit boy band Code Red, Michael Stipe of the group REM and Australian cricketer Brett Lee.

The British group Cornershop paid tribute to her on the song ‘Brimful Of Asha’, and American group Black Eyed Peas and opera-pop Sarah Brightman have sampled her voice. Asha’s last release was ‘The Shadowy Light’, where she teamed up with British virtual band Gorillaz. It was released on February 27. 

With such a wide array, Asha has proved she could sing just about anything. Surely she defined the term ‘musical versatility’. Or ‘vers-Asha-tility’.

If Lata was the voice of India’s soul, Asha became the voice of its spirit, writes Dr Ramachandran Srinivasan

During the golden era of Indian cinema—spanning the high-fidelity ’60s to the synth-heavy Disco ’80s—the airwaves were tuned to a singular, unwavering pitch of “purity” conducted by Lata Mangeshkar. To find her own rhythm, her younger sister Asha Bhosle had to compose a career from the syncopated beats and sharp notes that others deemed too discordant or “too bold.” Asha didn’t just perform; she rearranged the entire score of her life, turning every controversial refrain into a foundational chord for an empire that eventually achieved a harmonic resonance rivalling that of her elder sibling.

The most defining controversy of Asha’s life — and the one that birthed her career — began not in a recording studio, but in an act of domestic defiance. In 1949, at just 16, Asha cut the umbilical cord and walked out of the Mangeshkar household to tie the nuptial cord with Ganpatrao Bhosle, a man twice her age and her sister Lata’s personal secretary. The family viewed this as a dual betrayal: a personal rebellion and a professional breach of trust. A cord that became a reason for discord.

The consequences were immediate and severe. Asha was effectively disowned and barred from the family home. She recounted the sheer struggle of those early days, stating that she left with virtually nothing.

“When I left home, I had no money, no support, and two small children to feed. I had to take whatever work came my way, even if it was just one line in a chorus,” Asha once shared.

This departure was a total snap of the Mangeshkar strings, leaving Asha without a safety net or a harmonic home. Even as Lata was being conducted as the successor to the greats, Asha was a homeless teenager seeking a new key at every studio door. She was often seen carrying her infant son, Hemant, to recording sessions, leaning on studio peons to hold the tempo of her personal life while she stepped into the recording booth. Because she had struck a dissonant chord with the premier musical family, many composers feared that giving her a solo would detune their relationship with Lata.

However, this isolation became her inner resonance. By leaving the home where “refined” music was the only metronome, she became available to the gritty, experimental arrangements of films that fell outside the A-Grade spotlight. This estrangement forced Asha into a difficult professional register. For decades, industry overtones suggested a deep-seated jealousy fuelled by Lata’s melodic dominance. While Lata held the centre stage for the “heroine” leitmotifs, Asha was relegated to the low-register growls of vamps, the staccato energy of cabaret dancers, and the complex minor keys of the antagonists.

“I thought to myself, if I continue to sing in a similar voice to didi, then I will never get work as long as she is in the business,” Asha later recalled.

This forced her to innovate. She mastered Westernised modulations and rhythmic breathing techniques that Lata refused to touch. However, the tension remained palpable. Composer O.P. Nayyar once claimed Asha suffered from a “Lata phobia,” noting that he had to work exceptionally hard to help her find an individualistic style distinct from her sister. 

Yet the two sisters sang around 80 songs together. And yes, both of them sang for over 80 years as well. 

Tales of two gifted sisters.

But then, the intensity of this sibling friction became so deeply etched in the Indian psyche that it eventually inspired a cinematic post-mortem. In 1998, filmmaker Sai Paranjpye released Saaz, a film widely believed to be based on the lives of Lata and Asha. Though Paranjpye maintained it was a work of fiction, the parallels were impossible to ignore: two sisters, both gifted singers, navigating a world of professional jealousy, different musical temperaments, and the shadow of one looming over the other. Also Sai Paranjpye, the parallels to the sisters’ lives—such as two singing siblings, a younger sister struggling to find her identity, and even specific details like wearing long plaits—led to widespread public and media comparison

The film added a layer of cultural legitimacy to the rumours of their “cold war.” By portraying the younger sister’s struggle to find an identity in a monopolised industry, Saaz effectively turned the private whispers of the recording studios into a public narrative. While the Mangeshkar sisters remained largely tight-lipped about the film akin to the Kuch na kaho… Kuch bhi na kaho track, its existence served as a testament to how deeply their rivalry had shaped the folklore of Bollywood. Asha Bhosle once replied that commenting on the film would be a, “Waste of time!” and even referred to the Burman song from Amar Prem – Kuch toh log kahenge!

Usually, an enemy of my sister is also my enemy. But as Lata Mangeshkar’s song from her film Aakhir Kyon in 1985 – Dushman Na Kare Dost Ne Wo Kaam Kiya Hai – Asha chose to work with her sister’s ‘enemies’ which included composers and singers.

With O P Nayyar, who helped evolve her identity

Yes. Asha’s rise was powered by composers who had their own scores to settle with the elder Mangeshkar. These “camps” became the fault lines of Bollywood. The most famous was her 20-year collaboration with O P Nayyar, who famously never recorded a single song with Lata. Nayyar made Asha his muse, and their rumoured relationship and eventual bitter fallout in the 1970s caused a significant industry stir.

Similarly, when S D Burman had a five-year “cold war” with Lata in the late 1950s, he turned to Asha. She used this period to prove she could sing the “refined” and “soulful” songs usually reserved for Lata (most notably in Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi – 1958). By siding with composers who were “blacklisted” by her sister, Asha was often accused of fanning the flames to secure her own position.

The professional relationship between Lata Mangeshkar and composer Jaidev was famously strained in the late 1950s following a misunderstanding involving S D Burman. Lata accused Jaidev, then Burman’s assistant, of miscommunicating a message that escalated a tiff between the two legends—a charge Jaidev consistently denied. This rift ensued in a years-long boycott, which only ended when Dev Anand intervened during the production of Hum Dono (1961). His mediation successfully brought Lata back to Jaidev’s recording room, resulting in the timeless spiritual classic Prabhu Tero Naam and marking a formal reconciliation between the two artists.

During the years of Lata’s absence, Jaidev turned his creative focus to Asha Bhosle, playing a pivotal role in carving her distinct musical identity. By giving her classically inclined masterpieces like Abhi Na Jao Chhor Kar, he helped her step out from her sister’s shadow, though this shift gave rise to media rumours that Jaidev was intentionally challenging Lata’s industry “monopoly.” Despite this turbulent history, the tension eventually gave way to mutual respect. In a fitting final tribute shortly before he died in 1987, Jaidev was honoured with the Lata Mangeshkar Award, signifying a full-circle peace and the ultimate validation of his contribution to Indian cinema.

In the 1960s, a massive ego battle broke out between Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi over singer royalties. Lata demanded that singers receive a share of record sales; Rafi believed that once a singer was paid their fee, they had no further claim.

When Lata refused to sing with Rafi for several years, Asha made the controversial choice to continue recording duets with him. To many in Lata’s circle, this was a betrayal that weakened the elder sister’s bargaining power. For Asha, it was survival. By remaining available when Lata was not, she became the indispensable choice for producers tired of the royalty drama.

Asha’s willingness to push boundaries often put her at odds with conservative government standards. Two of her most iconic hits were nearly silenced, including Dum Maro Dum from Hare Rama Hare Krishna. Despite the film’s anti-drug message, the song was accused of glamourising the drug culture. It was banned by All India Radio (AIR) and edited out by Doordarshan. Fans tuned into Radio Ceylon to hear it, keeping it at the top of the charts for months. And yes there was Piya Tu Ab To Aaja as well when lyricist Majrooh Sultanpuri was so embarrassed by the “bold” nature of the song that he reportedly told Asha, “Beti, maine ganda gana likha hai” (“Daughter, I have written a dirty song”).

Only a “rebel” spirit like Asha could pull off this song

Asha later revealed she once confronted R D Burman (Pancham) about why she was repeatedly offered only provocative numbers. Pancham’s answer was simple: Asha was the only one with the technical range and the “rebel” spirit to pull them off.

Asha’s fiery personality wasn’t limited to the recording booth. In 2006, she publicly lashed out at Himesh Reshammiya after he suggested R D Burman sang through his nose. An incensed Asha reportedly stated that anyone making such claims “should be slapped,” leading to a swift public apology from Reshammiya.

Her later years brought legal battles, including a 2012 bungalow dispute with actress Sadhana over a garden area. More painfully, she was embroiled in a legal spat with her daughter-in-law, Sajida, following the death of her son Hemant in 2015. Sajida accused Asha of threatening her—allegations Asha handled with a characteristic silence until the matter was resolved privately.

Asha Bhosle’s career is a testament to her endurance. She didn’t just find a career; she found a voice that was more versatile, more daring, and ultimately more modern than the one she was originally meant to follow. By embracing the “bold,” the “banned,” and the “blacklisted,” she turned being the “second choice” into a global brand.

As she often told young aspirants in reality shows: “Accept change, whether or not you like it.” It is a philosophy that turned a family rift into a revolution, and a “dirty song” into the heartbeat of a nation. Asha Bhosle didn’t just survive the controversies; she used them to ensure that while Lata was the voice of India’s soul, Asha became the voice of its spirit.