Lalita song by manna dey biography

I had three musical influences in my very early childhood. My father was  forty when I was born and naturally had a sense of music that leaned on the likes of K L Saigal and Pankaj Kumar Mallik. For him Hemanta Mukherjee singing “Prangane mor shirish shakhaye” in the nasal tone was more acceptable than when the singer found a vocal rendition style that was his own. My Tagore influence clearly comes from my father. My mother, who even at this old age is a good singer, on the other hand counted Nazrul Islam, Rajanikanta Sen, Atulprasad Sen amongst her favorite composers. Listening to a weekly radio program every Sunday I realized, quite early in life, the inadquacy of range and repartoie of these composers compared to Tagore. The third member of our family was clearly my favorite person. My maternal uncle was staying with us in the industrial town, a couple of hundred kilometers west of Calcutta, because of his employment with Reckitt-Coleman. He used to work in shifts. This was perfect for me as I could have his company during the daytime, which more than made up for my father’s absence during that period. Perhaps because of his age, my uncle’s music choices were far more contemporary. It was my uncle who introduced me to the legend of Manna Dey

Far too young to understand the inner thoughts of any lyrics, it was Manna Dey’s voice and the orchestration of his songs that caught my fancy. How else can one explain a kid making pathetic attempts at rendering “Amar bhalobashar rajprashade” – but that was the first Manna Dey song I have recollections of memorizing and singing. This small town where we stayed – Burnpur – had an yearly cultural festival we looked forward to and participated in with boundless enthusiasm. Bongo Sanskriti Sammelan it was called. The festival had a generous skew towards music and offered two platforms for performances. One was free for all, open air, called Muktangan and the

I am listening to Poochho na kaise maine rain bitaayi as I write this. I am hearing Manna Dey’s voice, bringing so much emotion, so much frustrated longing into “Ut jale deepak, it mann mera; phir bhi na jaaye mere mann ka andhera”.  And I am remembering all the other songs of Manna Dey that I’ve loved over the years. Songs that I grew up with (and, more often than not back then, didn’t know who sang them). Songs that I loved from the very first moment I heard them. Songs that have grown on me. Songs that make Manna Dey immortal, even though he’s no more.

Manna Dey (May 1, 1919-October 24, 2013) was not one of my first loves when it came to playback singing. Before TV came into our lives, we’d listen to the radio, or to my parents’ substantial collection of LPs. By the time I was 10 or so, I had heard Ameen Sayani mention—in his introduction to songs on Binaca Geetmala—names like Mohammad Rafi, Kishore Kumar and Mukesh. But the first male singer whose voice I was able to recognize was Hemant. Then came Mukesh. Then, perhaps, Talat.

There were lots of songs, though, that I loved, even though I didn’t know who had sung them.

I remember watching Chori-Chori, for example, when I was about eleven. We lived in Srinagar, and the film was being shown on Doordarshan. I’d never been fond of Raj Kapoor’s films, and part of the reason for that was that I didn’t (back then) particularly care for RK’s quintessential voice, Mukesh. Too nasal for my taste.

So it came as a pleasant surprise to realize that Chori-Chori was chockfull of absolutely lovely RK songs. Songs I’d heard many times before, and which I’d loved. Aaja sanam madhur chaandni mein hum, or Yeh raat bheegi-bheegi. No nasal tones there, just a gorgeously seductive male voice, smooth and beautiful and so very sensual.

Around the same time, I watched Anand, and fell in love with Zindagi kaisi hai paheli.

And Bhoot Bangla, where I came across Aao twist karein, so utterly ro

When I wrote my twin posts on Manna Dey, I mentioned how I loved so many of his duets with Lata Mangeshkar that I had a tough time choosing just one. Of course, as a long-time reader pointed out, I managed to sneak in a couple of my favourites into the post. I promised myself that I would soon after do a whole post on his duets with Lata Mangeshkar. Months have passed since then, and many things conspired to keep me away from my blog. But today is Lata Mangeshkar's birthday and it seems an auspicious time indeed to break my long silence. 

If I thought I would have an easier time fitting in all the Manna Dey-Lata Mangeshkar duets I like in a post of its own, I was wrong. He had sung the maximum number of duets in his career with her, and I like most of them. So, after a lot of head-scratching, hang-wringing, and lots of listening while lying all worn out on the bed (that last was not so bad), and I finally winnowed it down to a manageable list. To make my choices easier (not that it helped much), I still kept out songs that were not pure duets; meaning, no triads, quartets or quintets. In no particular order then, here are my choices... 

1. Jaaoon mein kahan (Miss India/1957) SD Burman/Rajinder Krishen

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