Are celebrity deaths supposed to leave one misty-eyed and in tears? No, not at all. Certainly not for a pragmatic person like me. Or so I thought. But no, the news of Asha Bhosle’s demise at the age of 92 on April 12, 2026 affected me much more than I thought it would. I had just landed in Delhi airport when the phone blared the news that “Asha ji is no more.”. It was as if a weight had fallen on my heart. And my eyes were misty-eyed. People who may have read my blog before would know that she is my favourite singer (I have preferred her to Lata and have spent most of my growing years fighting with Lata fans – including friends and family), and hence this reaction.

From the time I got back home, I started listening to her songs, her music – one that is tied up with so many memories and associations. Come to think of it – Asha Bhosle started singing in the 1940s at the age of 10 and her last song was recorded a few months ago in 2026. A career spanning 8 decades – a remarkable one at that, encompassing an unbelievable range. What has she not sung? She has sung everything from classical, folk, pop, cabaret, ghazal, and devotional songs, both in and out of films, infusing them with her innate joie de vivre and sense of personality. Remarkable as she has reinvented herself at each and every turn – staying up-to-date with trends; lest she get left behind. Incredible really. It was bound to feel personal. Across the generations that her music has reached, there is bound to be that one song that touched us in a special moment. A love song, perhaps during the initial throes of love; or a song that reminded one of home, of a brother (Ab ke baras) ; a song perhaps that invoked a feeling of devotion(Tora Man darpan kehlaye); or a song to which we danced and laughed through the night (Piya tu ab to aaja). Her voice has been the common constant. A voice that will never die or fade away. Maybe that’s why when the news of her death came, it felt like a lifetime, a childhood that has passed me by.
As I reminisced on my fascination, nay, obsession with the music of Asha Bhosle – many memories, personal and public, came flashing by – right from the early days of my introduction to old Hindi film songs through Kashmir Ki Kali (1964) and Mere Sanam (1965) up until the early 2000s when I frequented a popular forum called hamaraforums.com and scoured the Asha sub-forum to discover “new” songs; I knew I had to return to this abandoned blog.
It struck me that barring a post on Asha songs that she sang for Ravi that I had posted a week before her 83rd birthday in 2016, I had not posted a single list of Asha songs – oh there were many unsaved drafts – from the time I started this blog. But the task had been daunting, as it is now – simply because it was not possible for me to pick 10 songs of hers that I love – there are way too many – not just in Hindi but also in Tamil and Bengali!
But a song list, a tribute in the only way I know, is due. It has already been delayed. In this first of a probably multi-part post, I have included 15 of my favourite solos. I would have been more ambitious and followed a theme for this list – a song per year/decade perhaps – but no. But I am already late, so the only criterion I have followed is that this list would not include her uber-famous songs (some that I love) that have been featuring in most of her tributes (and in my opinion, an injustice to her immense talent) – so no Piya tu ab to aaja, no Umrao Jaan, no Chura liya hai, no Dum Maro Dum here:
- Tera dil kahan hai (Chandni Chowk, Roshan, 1954): There is a story behind this, about how Roshan took permission from SD Burman to use this tune (inspired from Thandi Hawayein); Madan Mohan then used this tune in 1964 (Yehi hai Tamanna) and the Roshan again in Rahe na rahe hum and finally RD Burman in not one song but two (Hamein raaston ki zaroorat nahin hai and Saagar kinaare). Probably a well-known legend, this – but of all the songs, this is perhaps my favourite. Asha Bhosle’s rendition is soft, sweet and soothing. There is something calming in the way she modulates her voice here, along with the overall melody and minimal background music.
- Koi dekhe to kahe tujhko kahin deewana (Apradhi Kaun, Salil Chaudhary, 1957): This perky, lesser-known number is from a Bimal Roy production, an entertaining who-dunnit. Mala Sinha sings it on screen; Asha delights in such numbers, teasing, perky, and filled with life. Contrary to what many people think that she was asked to sing only cabaret or vampish songs (which I think is unfair) – the truth is that in the 1950s, Asha ji was struggling – professionally and personally. She had three kids to raise and a family to run and she took whatever she got. And that meant that any song, her much-established sister, Lata, or Geeta Dutt. Incidentally, listen to her dulcet tones – the voice fits a young girl in love, does it not?
- Yeh sama phir kahan aa bhi jaa (Ustad, OP Nayyar, 1957): As the folklore goes, O.P. Nayyar was the only music director who did not use Lata Mangeshkar for any of his songs; most of the 1950s, he was partial to Geeta Dutt and Shamshad Begum; but towards the middle of the decade, he started using Ashaji exclusively. This rare but brilliant song from a fairly obscure movie is one such early collaboration of the composer and singer
- Ye bhi koi roothne ka mausam hai deewane (Solva Saal, SD Burman, 1958): Sometime in 1958, it is said that Lata Mangeshkar had a huge argument with S.D Burman, causing them not to work with each other for four years. SD Burman became the second high-profile composer then to take Asha Bhosle under his wings and the result – some memorable songs. This song is one such number. Waheeda Rehman is teasing her love interest on screen (somewhat similar to the brilliant and oh-so-good Bhanwara bada nadaan from Saheb Biwi aur Ghulam or that lovely song from Kala Bazaar – Sach hue sapne tere both of which, despite being one of my favourites, won’t be a part of this list ). This movie of course is out and out a light-hearted film. Asha Bhosle infuses the song with the right amount of lilt, perkiness and heart.
- Haye unki wo nigahen (Aakhri Dao, Madan Mohan, 1958): A happy number, Nutan is remembering the one she has fallen for, not knowing that he is right there driving the taxi. Even though composed by Madan Mohan, it is rather OP Nayyarish, and Asha hits it right off the park – she sounds perky, lively, happy and in love!
- Dukh aur sukh ke raaste (Hum Dono, Jaidev, 1961): Now this one has had its resurgence, and how! Thanks to Instagram reels and various renditions of the Asha-Rafi duet, “Abhi na jao chhodkar.” It is rather sad that despite composing soundtracks as superlative as Hum Dono and Mujhe Jeene Do (1963), Jaidev ji did not get the acclaim he so deserved. It is fitting that, nearly four decades after his demise, these two songs in particular have gotten such renown. As Sadhana reassures Dev Anand on screen and this melody plays, the words, music, and singing have their effect. The melody sung by Asha is supportive, gentle, and reassuring, laying out a life philosophy so melodically! Just listen to how she sings the same tune in the duet (romantic, playful, and young) and here she is mature and calm. Perfect!
- Main teri huyi re baalma (Gehra Daag, Ravi, 1963): Other than the much spoken about partnerships with O.P. Nayyar and the Burman father-son duo, if there was any other music director with whom Asha ji had a memorable and productive partnership, it was Ravi. Why, it was in Vachan, Ravi’s debut movie, that Asha ji had her first hit song – Chanda mama door ke – popular to this date (or at least it was till the 1990s – where it would feature in Chitrahaar and Rangoli). This one is not a lullaby or a bhajan (Asha ji sang quite a few bhajans composed by Ravi – Tora man darpan kehlaye (Kaajal, 1965) or Rom rom mein basne wale ram (Neelkamal, 1968)for instance); it is a folk song, a dance number, picturised on Mala Sinha and Rajendra Kumar and a couple of dancers I do not recognise. What strikes me about this song is – that in for the first half of the song , the dancer is lipsyncing to it. From the second antara onwards, Mala Sinha sings it on screen. Even if you don’t watch the video, Asha ji sings it with such finesse. A class act !
- Aankhon se jo utri hai dil mein (Phir Wohi Dil laya hoon, OP Nayyar, 1963): What can I say about this song? One of Asha Bhosle’s finest – it starts off as a happy number of a young girl describing the man she has fallen in love with and how her life has changed ever since she met him. And then suddenly the mood changes – this is the part where the longing settles in – She loves him and is looking for him but does not know where to look. All she knows is that she can’t live without him. Asha ji sings it with expert modulation – there is a lilt, her voice full of awe and wonder, and suddenly a sombre note creeps in. This song holds a special place in my heart.
- O Pancchi pyare saanjh sakare (Bandini, S.D. Burman, 1963): As dusk settles in and birds start their flight back home, a young girl, carrying out her allotted tasks, looks out of the window and croons this song. Her home is the jail and all she can do is marvel at the freedom of the bird. This poignant number is one of two that Asha Bhosle sings in the Bimal Roy classic Bandini; the other being the heart-rending Ab ke baras bhej. Interestingly, Lata has the happier songs in the movie. But listen to this song and Asha’s voice modulation – she does sound very young!
- Balma khuli hawa mein (Kashmir Ki Kali, O.P. Nayyar, 1964): This sweet song doesn’t appear in the movie. I do not know whether it was picturised even – you do hear the strains of the mukhda at a point but not the whole song. Instead, what we see on screen is a beautiful humming (the number of songs where Asha ji has just hummed along deserves an entire list in itself!) when Shammi Kapoor enters Srinagar and meets Sharmila Tagore in daylight. Both the humming and the song are delightful. Asha at her best.
- Dil lagakar hum yeh samjhe (Zindagi aur maut, C Ramchandra, 1965): O.P. Nayyar is once said to have called this song his favourite Asha Bhosle song, even though it was not composed by him. Well, while the movie, a low-budget spy movie, and its heroine (Faryal, who made her debut in this opposite a middle-aged Pradeep Kumar and subsequently was relegated to cabaret dances in movies) may not be remembered, this song still is. The music composed by C Ramachandra in the fag end of his career is fabulous – other than this (both versions, Asha’s and Mahendra Kapoor’s), there was the cabaret Tere nazron ka ishaara. Coming back to this number, Asha Bhosle sings it with so much feeling and sweetness in her voice.
- Aage bhi jaane na tu (Waqt, Ravi, 1965): One of Asha’s best. If music directors such as OPN, RDB, SDB and Ravi have helped in Asha’s career, one other name comes to mind – B.R. Chopra. It is evident that the senior Chopra brother clearly favoured the younger of the two sisters – for from Naya Daur (1957) (could have been earlier also, but I am not sure) till say as late as Dhund (1973), Asha Bhosle remained a constant (just like Sahir or Ravi or Mahendra Kapoor for that matter). This blockbuster – the first multi-starrer has some tremendous Asha songs – Kaun aaya ki nigahon (a Chitrahaar/ Rangoli favourite!), Chehre pe khushi but the best is this philosophical party song, where so much happens. Asha ji’s rendition is flawless. Sublime.
- Baithe hain kya unke paas (Jewel Thief, SD Burman, 1968): So much has been written about the Helen-Asha Bhosle pairing, and how well Asha does these cabaret numbers. Here is this – not that well-known, (Raat akeli hai from the same film is more popular as the dance number). That is fantastic yes, the way she goes through the scales; this one is no less – a multi-track, fast paced number – that displays Asha’s range. R.D Burman’s touch as he assisted his father for the soundtrack is obvious here.
- Kitna haseen hai yeh jahan (Humsaya, O.P.Nayyar, 1968): Joy Mukherjee is said to put his heart and soul behind this movie (he produced, directed and acted in it, which unfortunately tanked, despite the presence of co-stars such as Sharmila Tagore and Mala Sinha (playing a Chinese/ Japanese lady) and some heavenly songs – solos and duets – Dil ki aawaz bhi sun, the Rafi ditty, the brilliant Asha solos, Woh haseen dard de do and Aaja mere pyar ke sahare, the melodious Rafi – Asha duet Mujhe mera pyar de de. Filmed on Mala Sinha (performing at a function on stage), this is a superb composition with a refreshing melody – the starting notes and arrangement slightly reminiscent of Love in Tokyo. Asha Bhosle sings this cheerful love song effortlessly.
- Chain se humko kabhi (Pran jaaye par vachan na jaaye, O.P. Nayyar, 1974): The last song that Asha sang for O.P. Nayyar. Recorded in 1968, there were plans of using this in Pran jaaye par vachan na jaaye. However by then, Asha and OPN had had an acrimonious fall-out. It is said that Asha objected to the filming – and it never got made. The end of a glorious partnership came with so much rancour – Asha did not even collect the Filmfare award she got for her amazing and heartfelt rendition; OPN collected it on her behalf and is supposed to have thrown the black lady near Haji Ali in the sea! Asha sings the song with much heart and conveys the grief of a relation that had gone bad. In a way, the song seems prophetic.
April 12, 2026, truly marked the end of an era – even though this is one phrase that gets tossed about loosely – every time someone important passes away!
In Asha Bhosle’s case, however, it was. After Lata Mangeshkar’s death in 2022, she had been the only surviving great from the golden era of Hindi film music. Geeta Dutt, Mukesh, Mohd Rafi and Kishore Kumar had all passed away in the 1970s and 1980s. Manna Dey, Hemant Kumar and Talat Mahmood had soon followed. With Asha ji’s passing away, the curtains have truly fallen. The golden era of Hindi cinema and its fantastic music has now become a distant memory. And Asha Bhosle’s contribution to that era and, in fact, the succeeding eras of music can’t be enumerated or quantified. From the 1940s until 2026, Asha ji enthralled generations, reinventing herself and endearing herself. From SD Burman to OP Nayyar to RD Burman to Ilayaraja and AR Rahman, from Hindi to Marathi to Bengali to Tamil and even English, from folk to classical to pop, she has sung it all. No words suffice – both for the artist she was and the impact her songs had on my growing years.
Goodbye Asha ji, thank you for the music!