Over a period of about four years, from 2010 to 2014, Lata Mangeshkar was interviewed by the biographer Yatindra Mishra, the interviews coming together in the form of a Hindi book, Lata: Sur Gatha. The biography won a National Award, and this is its English translation.
The book is divided into two parts. The first part, The Episodes, consist of brief snippets, most only a few paragraphs long (though some are slightly longer) about Lata, written from Yatindra Mishra’s point of view. Here, he covers a wide range of subjects related to Lata: her early life, her training by her father Dinanath Mangeshkar, how she was taken under the wing of Master Vinayak (Nanda’s father) and how she found a break in cinema: as an actress, and later moving full-time into playback singing. There are Mishra’s opinions here about specific characteristics of Lata’s singing, the songs she sang for different composers or alongside other playback singers (including lists of especially stellar songs), as well as the occasional insight into something relatively personal—for example, her favourite foods (keema samosas among them).
The second part of the book, The Interview, consists of selected excerpts from the series of interviews that Mishra conducted with Lata. Here too there’s a range of topics being discussed, such as Lata’s work with various composers, lyricists, singers and classical musicians. Her opinions of these people, whom she rates as the top, as well as other ‘favourites’ lists—favourite Western singers, favourite Western composers, top songs by her contemporaries, her own favourites from among her songs, which Western actress she would have liked to sing playback for (Ingrid Bergman), thoughts on music and religion, spirituality, family, and so on. There are also questions here on other aspects: for instance, Lata’s penchant for white or pale-coloured saris, her photography, her interest in cricket, and her taste in jewellery.
I liked the way Lata comes through in this book: the interviews, in particular, offer a glimpse of her up close, and more than that, they show us what the Hindi cinema industry was like back in the good old days. Lata’s memories of the hard work that went into recording songs was, especially, an eye-opener for me. She talks, for instance, of how there were very limited recording studios, and one of them was actually a film studio that was converted, after the day’s shoot was over, into a recording studio: the heat from the blazing lights, the lack of furniture (which meant artistes ended up sitting on the floor), and the fact that they could record only at night, when the set was not needed for filming: it made me marvel at the perseverance and passion of the people who still managed to turn out songs that often outstripped the films they were part of.
Besides that, you get an idea of the people around Lata: Kishore Kumar, such a madcap; Dilip Kumar, who (though his hurtful comment about Lata’s pronunciation reeking of dal-bhaat led to her learning Urdu) was also a proper gentleman; Madan Mohan, not just a fine composer but also adept at cooking mutton curry.
True, there’s not that much here that isn’t already known. Kishore’s antics, Madan Mohan’s culinary skills, Dilip Kumar’s comment about the Maharashtrian flavour to Lata’s Urdu: these are all common knowledge among those conversant with the lore of Hindi cinema through the 50s and 60s. But there are bits and pieces here (a touching anecdote about Dilip Kumar, for instance) that are memorable.
While this is, on the whole, an interesting and insightful book, I had some issues with it. For one, the fact that it doesn’t seem to have been proof-read. Ira Pande’s English, fortunately, is impeccable, so the common gripe I have about wonky grammar doesn’t apply; but there are other problems, in particular related to the transliteration of Hindi songs and film names. Dulhan Ek Raat Ki becomes Dulhan ki ek raat, Miss Mary becomes Miss Merry, Black Cat becomes Black Coat… and there are innumerable inconsistencies in casing and spelling. In one annoying case of sheer carelessness, a poem written by a Pakistani poet in praise of Lata (written with diacritical marks, not a standard used anywhere else in the book) is shown in verse form, before being repeated all over again, this time in paragraph form rather than verse.
I will admit, though, that I tend to nit-pick about such things, so this is probably not going to be an obstacle for most other people.
What I found otherwise irritating about Lata Mangeshkar: A Life in Music generally revolves around two aspects:
1. The lack of structure
This is apparent both in the interviews and in the episodes, but because the interviews come through as more chatty and personal, it’s not quite so jarring. The Episodes, however, I found annoying in this respect: in one episode, for instance, Mishra discusses a particular song; then in the next episode, he suddenly moves to talking about Lata’s favourite foods. Then there’s a brief paragraph comparing Lata to something Rabindranath Tagore wrote of… there’s a disconcerting habit of skipping from one topic to another, with no connect between the two. This also means that it’s impossible to just refer to this book to find a piece of information. You’ll have to read through it all.
If Mishra had grouped these episodes into specific topics (Lata’s songs, Lata’s interactions with different composers, Lata’s personal life, etc), they might have been a little more useful.
2. The eulogization.
Yatindra Mishra writes, at one point:
“An astonishing fact about Lata ji’s voice is that it has never lost its freshness and youthful sweetness through all the six-odd decades of her career…”
This, to me, is enough evidence that Mishra is an utterly biased fan of Lata’s. He goes on and on, the superlatives never ceasing, never tempered by balance, or by anything that is even vaguely negative. The Episodes part is especially hagiographical, but it becomes obvious even in The Interview, where many of his questions have a distinctly laudatory tone to them. Lata, as is probably natural, basks in all that adulation, to the extent that one wonders at the honesty (or not) of much of this interview.
As it is, Mishra rarely asks her any uncomfortable questions. Her differences, sometimes long-standing, sometimes brief, with people like OP Nayyar, Mohammad Rafi, and SD Burman; her supposed elbowing out of other talent that might prove competition; her right-wing leanings, and so on. These are touched upon in passing, and Lata either skirts the issue, or is vague in her answer, or simply denies what she calls a rumour. (As it is, that bit about the right-wing leanings is only my grouse; I don’t think Lata thought this a negative thing at all).
On the whole, while this book was a quick, fairly engrossing read (especially The Interview), I would recommend it primarily to those who want an insight into Lata Mangeshkar. Not a balanced, unbiased view, and not something you can refer to unless you have the patience to go through most of the book looking for the information you need. Also, the fact that what Mishra gathers in the Interview is reflected in The Episodes, means that there’s some repetition here, and sometimes quite pointless (for instance, in The Episodes, Mishra touches upon Lata’s differences with Jaidev, and says that they were resolved—but how, he does not explain, only saying that even Lata does not explain. Which is something that is repeated all over again in The Interview).