‘Lata Mangeshkar: A Life in Music’ book review: Melodious rhapsody

Express News Service

Alternating between Lata Mangeshkar’s memories and the author’s narration, the biography starts with 
the singer’s early life. It’s a vivid picture that emerges of a young girl, whose adoration of her father’s immense talent, lays the seeds of her own journey as a dedicated artiste who will, in time, surpass him 
in fame and success.

Readers, who know that the book is the result of many sittings and phone calls between the author and the legendary singer, will look for Mangeshkar’s voice, but hear her only in snatches, a quote here and a sentence there in the first half of the book, which is more analytical.

The author goes through her journey as a singer, and talks about the influences she imbibed to create her own style, the quality and range of her voice that made it unique and inimitable, and her work with other singers. Shamshad Begum and Suraiya find mentioned here, with a list of duets Mangeshkar sang with them. Others, including male singers, follow later.

Music directors are also listed––Anil Biswas, C Ramchandra, Husnlal Bhagatram, Jamal Sen, Shankar-Jaikishan and more. This is where one can delight in rediscovering the many forgotten numbers that were sung so effortlessly by a rising star. One can expect to gain much more joy from the book if the reading is accompanied by frequent forays into the YouTube archives to listen to these old gems.

The work is essentially a chronicle of Mangeshkar’s journey through her songs. Mishra brings to the fore her contribution to popularising classical music, her easy navigation of ragas, prompting directors such as Anil Biswas, Naushad, SD Burman, Sajjad Hussain, Roshan and even ghazal king Madan Mohan, to create three-minute classical melodies that would resound in the listeners’ mind and evoke appreciation, even in those unaware of the technicalities of a raga.

The author’s repeated praise of the singer’s ability to ‘glide through a song’, ‘voice putting a rainbow to shame’ etc., however, could have been avoided. The qualities that Mangeshkar’s voice and singing contained have been known to listeners across generations. Also, disappointing is the fact that sometimes a story is hinted at, but not told.

It’s in the second half that the book comes into its own, mostly because it takes a Q&A format, recording Mangeshkar’s words with honesty. Its initial dry tone can perhaps be the translator’s way of abbreviating 
the more ornate flow of the Hindi original. 

Mishra is a deft interviewer. His knowledge of music and Hindi film-music history helps bring out details hitherto not known to many. What shines through is the simplicity of the singer’s love of her art, the offering of it as a spiritual practice, and her belief that, with a longer apprenticeship, she could have been a classical singer. This, coming from someone who has sung with no less a stalwart than Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, speaks of a humility that is rare in today’s time of instant fame.

This is also, perhaps, the first time several rumours about Mangeshkar’s life have been addressed––her fallout with SD Burman, and why she temporarily stopped singing duets with Rafi, among others. We also learn of the lesser-known incidents like the attempt to poison her, or the fact that she often remonstrated with musicians who made her sing in very high notes, because despite her ability to scale operatic notes, it was a strain on her voice.

Equally interesting is the fact that in spite of her standing and experience, she never ‘directed’ a composer to change a note or imposed her opinion in any way; only internalised the song and invested it with the emotion required by the actress and situation on screen.

It’s not easy to write a book on Lata Mangeshkar. Mishra has ventured bravely into space, giving us a chronicle of her songs over six decades. It’s a book any fan of the singer would treasure.

<br> Alternating between Lata Mangeshkar’s memories and the author’s narration, the biography starts with <br> the singer’s early life. It’s a vivid picture that emerges of a young girl, whose adoration of her father’s immense talent, lays the seeds of her own journey as a dedicated artiste who will, in time, surpass him <br> in fame and success.

(Photo | Amazon.in)Readers, who know that the book is the result of many sittings and phone calls between the author and the legendary singer, will look for Mangeshkar’s voice, but hear her only in snatches, a quote here and a sentence there in the first half of the book, which is more analytical.

The author goes through her journey as a singer, and talks about the influences she imbibed to create her own style, the quality and range of her voice that made it unique and inimitable, and her work with other singers. Shamshad Begum and Suraiya find mentioned here, with a list of duets Mangeshkar sang with them. Others, including male singers, follow later.googletag.cmd.push(function() {googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-8052921-2’); });

Music directors are also listed––Anil Biswas, C Ramchandra, Husnlal Bhagatram, Jamal Sen, Shankar-Jaikishan and more. This is where one can delight in rediscovering the many forgotten numbers that were sung so effortlessly by a rising star. One can expect to gain much more joy from the book if the reading is accompanied by frequent forays into the YouTube archives to listen to these old gems.

The work is essentially a chronicle of Mangeshkar’s journey through her songs. Mishra brings to the fore her contribution to popularising classical music, her easy navigation of ragas, prompting directors such as Anil Biswas, Naushad, SD Burman, Sajjad Hussain, Roshan and even ghazal king Madan Mohan, to create three-minute classical melodies that would resound in the listeners’ mind and evoke appreciation, even in those unaware of the technicalities of a raga.

The author’s repeated praise of the singer’s ability to ‘glide through a song’, ‘voice putting a rainbow to shame’ etc., however, could have been avoided. The qualities that Mangeshkar’s voice and singing contained have been known to listeners across generations. Also, disappointing is the fact that sometimes a story is hinted at, but not told.

It’s in the second half that the book comes into its own, mostly because it takes a Q&A format, recording Mangeshkar’s words with honesty. Its initial dry tone can perhaps be the translator’s way of abbreviating 
the more ornate flow of the Hindi original. 

Mishra is a deft interviewer. His knowledge of music and Hindi film-music history helps bring out details hitherto not known to many. What shines through is the simplicity of the singer’s love of her art, the offering of it as a spiritual practice, and her belief that, with a longer apprenticeship, she could have been a classical singer. This, coming from someone who has sung with no less a stalwart than Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, speaks of a humility that is rare in today’s time of instant fame.

This is also, perhaps, the first time several rumours about Mangeshkar’s life have been addressed––her fallout with SD Burman, and why she temporarily stopped singing duets with Rafi, among others. We also learn of the lesser-known incidents like the attempt to poison her, or the fact that she often remonstrated with musicians who made her sing in very high notes, because despite her ability to scale operatic notes, it was a strain on her voice.

Equally interesting is the fact that in spite of her standing and experience, she never ‘directed’ a composer to change a note or imposed her opinion in any way; only internalised the song and invested it with the emotion required by the actress and situation on screen.

It’s not easy to write a book on Lata Mangeshkar. Mishra has ventured bravely into space, giving us a chronicle of her songs over six decades. It’s a book any fan of the singer would treasure.