Come autumn, I am sure that mellow Kolkata evenings illuminated by fairy lights will still see neighbourhood marquees play Asha Bhosle’s Mohuay Jomecche Aaj Moy Go or Lata Mangeshkar’s O Mor Moyna Go, it’s just that neither of the two doyens of music who gave life to these compositions will be there. Certain sounds define a season and in Bengal, autumn does not merely arrive with a dip in temperature or the blooming of kaash phool and the welcoming of Goddess Durga with her children, it arrives on loudspeakers, tremble of tanpura, swell of violins and the voices of Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhosle. For generations of Bengali, including yours truly, as it was for his father before him, Durga Puja has been seen, felt, heard and experienced. And
at the heart of that sonic memory –like pulsating heartbeats - lie the Mangeshkar sisters.
Long before curated Spotify playlists and algorithm-driven recommendations, Pujo music was an event in itself. Every year, as the festive season knocked on the doors, record labels would release
‘Pujor Gaan’ – special Bengali adhunik songs that would become the soundtrack for the festivities. These mellifluous compositions would croon from pandals, para clubs and neighbourhood loudspeakers, embedding themselves into popular culture and collective memory.
More often than not, the voices that dominated the soundscape were of sisters Lata and Asha.
Lata, Asha And The Bengali Turn of Two Pan-Indian Voices
While both Asha Bhosle and Lata Mangeshkar are synonymous with Hindi film music, their Bengali repertoire is not a footnote – it is a parallel legacy. Lata Mangeshkar recorded nearly 185 Bengali songs, starting off with the 1965
Aakash Prodeep Jwole (composed by Satinath Mukherjee). She followed it with a series of classic compositions with
Salil Chowdhury and Hemant Kumar. These were not translations or adaptations, but were original compositions deeply rooted in Bengal’s melodic and poetic traditions.
And these songs are still staples in pandals and neighborhoods during Durga Puja. No evening
jalsha is complete without the loudspeakers blaring
Saat Bhai Champa, Nijhum Sandhay and
Aaj Mon Cheyeche. When I think back on younger evenings – standing on our ornate red-floored North Kolkata home's balcony and watching the crowd pour in as these tunes played in the background I realise they carried a distinct emotional texture – wistful, lyrical and intimate.
Lata Mangeshkar’s voice had found a new resonance in Bengali – thriving on it softeness and nuances, while spurring on their nostalgic souls and cementing herself in their psyche.
Asha Bhosle, on the other hand, brought on a different energy. Beginning her Bengali journey in the late 1950s Her first
Bengali Pujor Gaan was
Amar Khatar Patay in 1963 - a number that has music by Manna Dey, but it was songs like Gauriprasanna Mazumder's
Phule Gandha Nei, or her song
Kine De Reshmi Churi became a staple of Puja releases.
If Lata was the voice of longing, Asha was the voice of playfulness, sensuality, and experimentation – echoing with the sensibilities of the youth and an adventure loving Bengali soul. In ways, together,
the Mangeshkar sisters did not just sing in Bengali - they became Bengali.
Puja, Pandal-Hopping And The Soundtrack Of Memory
To understand the cultural imprint of Asha Bhosle and Lata Mangeshkar, one must understand Durga Puja itself – a lived communal experience,
Puja to any Bengali is about movement – walking from one marquee to another, soaking in art installations, light and sound all to the tunes of Asha and Lata. One pandal might be playing Lata’s
Aaj Noy Gun Gun Gunjan Preme, while another echoed with Asha’s
Kine De Reshmi Churi. The effect was entirely cinematic.
To those already deep in puja fervour, it felt like drifting between parallel emotional worlds, both anchored by the same familial sound of two sisters. And this simultaneity is crucial, for
Puja music was communal. Unlike modern listening habits, one did not choose what to hear, the neighbourhood did. And in this,
the Mangeshkar voices became a shared memory – songs one did not just love, but inherited.
Songs That Became Ritual: Memories by Mangeshkars
There are songs by the sisters that have transcended popularity to become ritualistic. Asha Bhosle’s
Durge Durge Durgatinashini - a song directly invoking the goddess herself is a soaring composition and devotional fervour making it inseparable from the Puja atmosphere. Then there are her lighter Puja numbers - romantic, and mischievous at the same time, often composed by RD Burman that capture the youthful exuberance of the festival.
Aaj Gun Gun Gunje or
Chokhe Name Brishti are not religious, yet deeply tied to Puja because of the romanticism associated with it.Lata Mangeshkar’s repertoire, meanwhile leans more into the poetic and melancholic.
Ja Re Ja Re Ure Ja Re Pakhi though rooted in a different emotional context, is frequently played during Puja, evoking a sense of departure and return that mirrors the goddess’s own journey. Similarly, her
Prem Ekebari Esechilo Nirobe is a romantic ode that is haunting in its appeal. These songs are not just aural experiences, they are timed.
From morning ragas for pushpanjali, romantic duets for evening strolls, high-energy numbers for dhunuchi naach – the sisters, unknowingly, scored the festival.
Alchemy of Composers and Language
A significant part of the musical legacy also lies in the collaborations Asha Bhosle and Lata Mangeshkar had with Bengali composers.
Salil Chowdhury, Sudhin Dasgupta, Hemant Kumar, Satinath Mukherjee were not just frequent collaborators, they were cultural translators who understood how to mould the Mangeshkar voices to suit Bengali sensibilities. Salil Chowdhury championed a folk classical fusion that allowed Lata Mangeshkar’s voice to flit effortlessly between intimacy and grandeur, while Hemant Kumar, with his deep baritone sensibility crafted compositions that played up the tonal contrast of each sister.
However, perhaps,
for Asha Bhosle, it was RD Burman’s Bengali compositions that were particularly transformative. He crafted intricate compositions with new emotional textures that felt like reinventions tailored for a different cultural context.
How Asha and Lata Became Cultural Memory
Perhaps what makes the Mangeshkar sisters’ Bengali songs is not just their musicality but their emotional accessibility. For many Bengalis, their entry into adulthood was steeped in the emotional context these songs gave, and for those growing up outside West Bengal, these songs became a way to connect with a cultural identity. For someone like me, who has lived a majority of his adult life outside home, hearing
Nijhum Sandhyay during Durga Puja is not just listening to a song – it is almost like participating in a translation which helps me emotionally reconnect with my roots. And at the centre of it all is two non-Bengali singers who became central to Bengali nostalgia. It is a
testament to the universality of their voices that they could transcend linguistic boundaries and still feel deeply local.
And this is especially important in today’s era of streaming platforms. The way we consume music has changed drastically and yet, during Durga Puja, something curious happens - people return to the old songs.
Playlists titled Puja Classics are still dominated by Lata and Asha. While YouTube compilations rack up views, for those who still have access to their devices, Vinyl records are dusted off.
And this persistence is not just about nostalgia, it is about continuity. The songs act as anchors in a rapidly changing world, where even as the marquees and themes become more experimental, the music anchors one and remains reassuringly familiar.
Why Puja Still Feels Incomplete Without The Voices of Asha Bhosle and Lata Mangeshkar
To say that Durga Puja feels incomplete without the Mangeshkar sisters is not an exaggeration. Their songs are not just a part of the festivities, but are its emotional architecture. They are silent witnesses to first crushes and family reunions, they are lilting laughter to late-night adda sessions and the hymnal chants of early morning rituals.
They play in the background as new memories are formed, seamlessly blending with the old – over and over again.
The voices of Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhosle have offered a sense of timelessness to a festival that celebrates the cyclical in the ten-armed-goddess’ arrival, celebration and departure. The constancy of their voices through years and generations are like the return of the goddess herself.
Asha Bhosle, Lata Mangeshkar And An Echo That Never Fades
Asha Bhosle is dead. Lata Mangeshkar has passed. But come autumn as the chandelier gets lit in towering marquees, and the Goddess’ face becomes a tantalising mixture of the human and divine their Bengali songs will continue to echo across pandals and playlists alike.
The Mangeshkar sisters are a reminder that music, at its best, is not just heard, but is lived. And in Bengal, during the five says of autumnal magic and invocation of the divine,
Lata and Asha are not just singers – they are tradition, memory and an act of divinity in itself.