Suparnakanti Ghosh
Son of Nachiketa Ghosh

When Asha Bhosle recorded Puja songs in 1963 for my father Nachiketa Ghosh — Moner nam Modhumoti and Thuilam re mon padma patay — I was barely five years old, too young to have any memories.

But I do remember travelling to Bombay in my final year of school with him in the early 70s when he went for the recording of two films, Mouchak and Swayamsiddha. Both had the same producer, Shumser Bahadur Rana of Piyali Pictures, and the recordings would happen simultaneously at Famous Studio. Ashaji was supposed sing two songs in each — Besh korechhi prem korechhi and a duet, Pagla garod kothay achhe, in Mouchak, and Alo ar alo diye and Ghumparani ganey in Swayamsiddha. But the music arranger did not turn up. On hearing the problem, Ashaji called a substitute. She also had a Gujarati song to record in a neighbouring studio. She asked for me to be sent when we were ready and left.

Accordingly, I was sent to fetch her. The second antara of Alo ar alo diye had the word “awnaadore”. But she kept pronouncing it during our ride back in the car as onadore. So I corrected her. “Khoka, yahan sur kya hai?” she asked me. I could hardly carry a tune but still sang the portion.

When the recording got over, she said while leaving: “Jab Kalkatta ayenge, hum ko rasgulla khilana.” That never happened.

Since there was work left, Baba left me in Hemanta babu (Mukherjee)’s house, Gitanjali, and came back to Calcutta. The next morning, Hemanta babu asked me: “Khoka, kokhono Lata-r bari gyachho?” When I said no, he offered to take me with him.

The sisters stayed in apartments on the same floor in Peddar Road. Lata Mangeshkar was not home. Only Mehmood was sitting inside. So Hemanta babu knocked on Asha Bhosle’s door. She opened the door herself and, upon seeing us, told Hemanta babu: “Aap sune hai? Ghosh dada ek bahut badiya gana baneye hai,” and hummed the opening notes of a song from Swayangsiddha.

That was the last I saw her.

About eight years ago, I was at an acquaintance’s office. A call came and at the end of the conversation, he handed the phone to me. It was Ashaji at the other end. I expressed regret at not having brought her rasogolla as promised, though, I said, she would have forgotten the exchange. “Sab yaad hai humko,” she protested, and mentioned my mother’s eyesight issues. “Woh paan mein zarda khati thi, hai na?” she added. I was stunned by her memory.

Saikat Mitra
Son of Shyamal Mitra

We used to stay in Wedderburn Road, near Lake View Road, in south Calcutta. Ballygunge Cultural Association was our local puja. In the mid-70s, an organiser informed Baba that Asha Bhosle had come. Baba went immediately and brought Asha aunty home. That was the first I saw her.

I was too small when they were working together, churning out hit songs, in films like Rajkanya, Bandi, Nishan, Kalankini, Amanush, Ananda Ashram, most of them starring Uttam Kumar.

He and Uttam kaku were great friends. In fact, on hearing Uttam kaku was no more, Baba started drinking. We were in Bombay then and he had a recording scheduled with Asha aunty for Kalankini. But on hearing him call and cancel the recording, Ashaji came straight to our house, Hemkund in Bandra, all the way from Peddar Road. “Dada, aisa toh hota hi rehta hai. Aap ko kaam pe jana padega,” she said and dragged him out. That’s why Baba sings with a slight drawl in Suhani raat phire pabo ki, a duet which they recorded that day.

Just after Baba passed away, in 1987 — I was still tonsured — Hemanta jethu was composing for a Tarun Majumdar film called Agomon. The song was mainly Asha aunty’s but I had a small portion. On hearing the recording, Asha aunty said: “Beta, tumhara gale mein bhi Shyamal da jaisa mithas hai. Main ek programme karungi tumko aur Sudesh Bhosle ko le kar.” The programme never happened but it had felt good to hear her say so.

Years later, I sang a duet with her, Tumi ele anupama. The 1992 film was Purushottam, with Bumba (Prosenjit Chatterjee) as director and Pancham uncle (R.D. Burman) as composer. We went to Bombay for the recording, which took place in Madhur Dhwani Studio, in a building where Madhubala used to stay.

Asha aunty also sang a song in the first film I composed for, Mishti Madhur, directed by Aurobinda Mukherjee.

I visited her whenever I went to Bombay. On one such visit — it was civic election day — she received a call while speaking to me and immediately got up to leave. For the next seven-eight minutes she stood on the road until Lataji emerged with Meenaji (their second eldest sister). Together they were going to cast their votes. Such was the respect she had for her elder sisters.

Soumya Dasgupta
Son of Sudhin Dasgupta

I never met Asha Bhosle. My father Sudhin Dasgupta was very conscious about keeping my focus on studies and thought exposure to his professional life would distract me. The recordings happened in Bombay, so that was another reason why I had little access to her. But I have heard several anecdotes later about their interactions. Whenever Baba went to Bombay, even if the dates clashed with her other commitments, I have heard she always made time for him.

When they were recording Kon se alor swapno, the scratch Baba had sung himself was simpler. But Ashaji added some vocal flourishes. Baba usually was strict about sticking to the tune but allowed her to contribute. Her first Puja recording was with Baba, in 1957. The disc had Akashe aj ronger khela on one side and Nach mayuri nach on the other side. Even her early Bengali film songs were largely with him. Once Geeta Dutt became unavailable, Asha Bhosle was the natural choice. They had a fantastic rapport.

I have met Lata Mangeshkar. Arati (Mukherjee) pishi and Manna (Dey) jethu became family later. But my big regret is not having met Ashaji ever.