Legendary nightingale falls silent

Art’s flag will be on half mast mourning a voice that showed a variety that moved from ‘Rasik Balma’ to ‘Dil Hoom Hoom Kare’, from ‘Jyothi Kalash’ to ‘Thade Rahio’.

Hyderabad: The singer is dead. The song will remain. In 1949 when she announced ‘Aayega Aane Wala’, the Khemchand Prakash creation perhaps understated in retrospect, she remains unarguably the colossus of film music. When the Indian President Pratibha Patil bestowed on her the Bharat Ratna (2008), it was a clear case of ‘der aayi durust aayi’.

Art’s flag will be on half mast mourning a voice that showed a variety that moved from ‘Rasik Balma’ to ‘Dil Hoom Hoom Kare’, from ‘Jyothi Kalash’ to ‘Thade Rahio’. Truly, her voice was that ‘Ajeeb Daastan’ of which the enigmatic question ‘Kahan Shuru Kahan Khatam’ remained unanswered. This is no time to talk numbers or recall milestones.

Encyclopaedic in range and holistic in influence, she will remain, for decades ahead, that singular representative of cinema music – which, in itself, is a huge chapter. This legendary nightingale purged every branch, every genre, every pitch, every mood, every star, every nuance. Her musical bouquet is overcrowded – be it in colour or in fragrance. That her range moved from Madhubala to Kareena is a tribute to the timelessness in her voice and the eternity to her voice.

If music in the post Lata era (she last sang ‘Jeena kya hai, jaana maine Dunno Y2… Life Is a Moment’ in 2015) lacks a certain degree of permanence, it is perhaps a reflection of a voice of voluntary silence. Not without cause did Gulzar state more with artistic accuracy than poetic indulgence – ‘Meri Awaz Hi Pehchan Hai Gar Yaad Rahe’.

Where will music directors now look for an emotive number, a lullaby or a romantic melody? Where will they search for a voice that will give you a cinematic ghazal, a semi-classical… the list is endless. Generations to come will truly miss a genius in flesh and blood till a new WhatsApp generation will question her monarchy.

It will be interesting to catalogue the best 10 for prominent faces, including Madhubala, Meena Kumari, Nargis, Nutan, Waheeda Rehman, Sadhna, Saira Banu, Sharmila, Mumtaz, Tanuja, Hema, Jaya, Rekha, Shabana Azmi, Nanda, Mala Sinha Sridevi, Jayaprada – this is obviously a near endless sentence.

It would be even more interesting to enlist her 10 best alongside greats like Rafi, Kishore, Mukesh, Asha and Talat. One day, at a risk of great inaccuracy, to list her 10 best with SD Burman, RD Burman, Shankar Jaikishan, Madan Mohan, Khayam, Salil Choudary, Naushad, Lakshmikanth Pyarelal, Kalyanji Anandji, AR Rehman. After all that, you have still left out ‘Dil Hoon Hoon Kare’ for Bhupen Hazarika and ‘Yaara Silli Silli’ for Hridaynath Mangeshkar.

Legends are not assessed by numbers. If Lata ji had signed off when she began and announced her grand arrival, ‘Aayega Aane Wala’ (‘Mahal’) and ‘Hawa Mein Udta Jaye’ (‘Barsaat’), she would still have been in the gallery of the greatest. If it is only music without defined genres, she in her own right is a ‘Sangeet Kalanidhi’. We in the Telugu States may no longer hear the voice that urged ‘Nidurapora Thammuda’. The ‘Lady in White’ who not only defied the male bastion but took them by their horns is a gender defined power story. Empowerment of sheer talent and discipline.

It would be humanly impossible to encapsule 8:10 am, February 06, 2022. It would be as impossible as putting in words or any other communicative format the colossus: Lata Mangeshkar. I can only say, borrowing from her own voice:

Tum Toh Dil Ki Taar Chhed Kar

Ho Gaye Bekhabar

Tum Ko Neend Aayegi

Tum Toh So Bhi Jaoge

Yeh Toh Kehdo Ek Baar

Khwab Mein Toh Aaoge…

Death conquered Socrates. Now, Lata Mangeshkar!