The early years

A difficult childhood: Daughter of theatre actor and musician Dinanath Mangeshkar, she was the eldest child of five. She learned music early but never attended more than a day of school—and learned to read and write Hindi only much later. She was trained by her father to both sing and act until he died. At the tender age of 13, she became the sole breadwinner of her family—moving to Bombay to train as an actor and singer.

Here is an early photo of her family:

A DOA acting career: Mangeshkar hated acting with a passion—despite landing a few roles. No, she wasn’t camera shy:

“Surprisingly, I was quite confident before the camera. It was just that I hated acting. I felt like a doll on being told, ‘Abhi tum hanso, abhi tum aansoo bahao’ (‘Now you laugh, now you shed tears’). In a manner of speaking, it was like switching a tubelight off and on within me. Moreover I hated applying make-up, especially lipstick… I have never used lipstick again.”

The early struggle: Ironically, Mangeshkar’s biggest hurdle was her own voice—which was considered “too thin” by producers. And Dilip Kumar famously dismissed her pronunciation, saying “Inn Maharashtrianon ke saath ek problem hotaa hoi—inke gaane mein daal-bhaath ki boo aatee hai!” (The problem with Maharashtrians is that their songs have the smell of daal-bhaath)—a comment she took to heart and mastered Urdu diction to perfection. A skill that she put to dazzling display in ‘Pakeezah’—which is the perfect excuse to share this lovely photo of her with Meena Kumari:

Point to note: She and Dilip Kumar would go on to become lifelong friends. Here is a rare audio clip of them singing together:

The plain Jane: In an appearance-obsessed film industry, much was made of the fact that Mangeshkar’s ordinary looks did not quite match her heavenly voice. The “disconnect” famously inspired two movies: V Shantaram's ‘Teen Batti Char Rasta’ (1953) starring Sandhya and Raj Kapoor’s ‘Satyam Shivam Sundaram’. They followed the same stereotypical plotline:

“Of course, she sang like a dream, but the narrative dwelled upon the reductive trope of a plain Jane with an ethereal singing voice, imagined as a pale-faced Raja Ravi Varma damsel by a leading man who had only ever heard her sing. Later of course he recognises her as a woman of conviction and ‘inner beauty’.”

An odd fact: Raj Kapoor initially wanted Mangeshkar to star in SSS in the 50s—a role she refused. And the film, when it was finally released, was a risque and costly mistake starring a heavily sexualised, half-clothed Zeenat Aman.

A true measure of her talent: There are plenty of quotes waxing eloquent about her voice, but this anecdote shared by Javed Akhtar captures its true immensity:

“I'll tell you an incident that Pandit Jasraj narrated to me from the 1950s. He was in Amritsar when he met the classical genius Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan. After Pandit Jasraj got talking, Bade Ghulam Ali Saab suddenly told him to keep quiet. He heard the sound of the young Lata Mangeshkar singing ‘Yeh zindagi ussi ki hai’ from ‘Anarkali’. Bade Ghulam Ali Khan was enraptured. He finally said, ‘Kambhakt, kabhi besuri hoti hi nahin’ (She never goes out of tune). That remark had the affection of a father and the envy of an artiste.”

The Mangeshkar Monopoly

There have been countless reports of tyrannical demands and the so-called ‘Mangeshkar Monopoly’. But she is also the first person who demanded—and received—public acknowledgement of playback singers in the film credits and record labels. Until then, singers were invisible, their names replaced either by the movie’s characters or the actors. Mangeshkar says:

“Without any hesitation, I requested Raj Kapoor to give due credit to all the playback singers. When we sing for the heroine and the hero, why should their characters’ names be mentioned instead of ours? The lyrics by Hasrat Jaipuri and Shailendra had been acknowledged as a matter of course. Raj Kapoor agreed right away and highlighted the credits for the songs lip-synced by Nargis, Nimmi and himself in Barsaat.”

Plus this: She also led the battle in 1973 to ensure that singers received royalties—which was only given to composers. Her stance put her at odds with Mohammed Rafi—with whom she had produced some of her most successful work. Here’s how she describes it:

“Because of that fall-out as you call it, singers continue to get royalties right to this day. I initiated the conversation about royalties for playback singers. Mukesh, Talat Mehmood and Mubarak Begum were with me on this issue. Mohammed Rafi, Mahendra Kapoor and some other artistes weren’t. Hot words were exchanged. Rafi saab said, ‘I will never sing with Lata again,’ and I retaliated by saying, ‘I won’t sing with him either.’ This went on for three years till Shankar-Jaikishen organised a patch-up.”

A sexist double standard: As Vikram Phukan notes in News9, Mangeshkar was no angel, but much of her reputation for being difficult was framed by the age-old double standard:

“Never called out similarly, were the male composers for whom Lata's voice was a finely tuned instrument they coveted preciously, or producers (many great actors among them) mindful of cash registers, or music companies that were true monopolists, or even actresses with an eye on posterity who had it written in their contracts that Lata alone would sing for them.”

When asked about her reputation, Mangeshkar claimed that male composers would reject new talent using her as their excuse: “And the gun would be fired from my shoulder. The composers would claim, ‘If we give you a song, Lata didi naaraaz ho jaayegi.’ Angry? Absurd!” 

A funny story: about sexism relates to the time Mangeshkar went on a US tour—and discovered the joy of Las Vegas casinos. She would spend hours on the slot machines since she didn’t know how to play any of the other games:

“Little would she know that after being photographed outside a casino in a blue salwar kameez, the Indian press would splash the picture all over the news, but with a few changes. ‘They mistook my blue salwar for jeans! They said that Lata is wearing jeans and is spending all her time at the casinos. Unke liye main gambler ban gayi! (They called me a gambler!).’”

For what it’s worth, Mangeshkar earned her place—and held her own—in a pantheon of great musical stars during the industry’s fabled golden era:

The politics of Lata Mangeshkar 

While she’s had a close relationship with all Indian leaders, the singer has long been viewed as soft on the BJP and the RSS. Back in 2013, a Congress leader demanded she be stripped of her Bharat Ratna for openly supporting then candidate Modi. At an event in Pune, Mangeshkar declared: “Narendrabhai is like my brother. All of us want to see him become the Prime Minister. On the auspicious occasion of Diwali, I hope our wishes [will] come true.”

Mangeshkar has also tweeted to wish RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat on his birthday—and in support of Hindutva ideologue Veer Sarvarkar: 

“Today is the birth anniversary of Veer Savarkar ji. I bow to his personality, and his patriotism. Nowadays, a few people have been criticising Savarkar ji. However, those people do not know the stature of Savarkar's patriotism and self-respect.”

OTOH: Mangeshkar has also paid tribute to Babasaheb Ambedkar:

“Namaskar. Bhartiya samvidhan ke janak mahamanav Bharat Ratna Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar ji ki jayanti par main unko koti-koti vandan karti hoon Main unko pratyaksh roop se mil saki yeh mera saubhagya hai” (On the anniversary of Bharat Ratna Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar ji, father of the Indian Constitution, I offer him a million prayers. I met him in person and that is my good fortune).

And Mangeshkar recently spoke out against communalism—when asked how she felt on her 92nd birthday:

“Main aapko sach bataoon? Main andar se dukhi hoon. There is so much division in the country. People are getting more and more into, ‘Main Hindu hoon woh mussalmaan hai’. This climate of suspicion and hostility must stop. I had hoped and prayed that this kind of divisive atmosphere would have long ago ended. But I am sorry to say it's getting worse. People are killing one another in the name of religion.”

Ironic point to note: Shah Rukh Khan was one of the Bollywood stars who paid his respects at Mangeshkar’s funeral. And as is the Muslim practice, he removed his mask to “blow” the prayers over the body—and was immediately accused of spitting on Mangeshkar.

The bottomline: As is fitting, we leave it to Lata-ji to have the last word on her incomparable life (this one made us tear up a little).

Reading list

A must read: Mangeshkar’s last interview with Khalid Mohammed in The Quint. Of the many tributes, we most enjoyed reading TM Krishna in The Hindu and Vikram Phukan’s thoughtful take in News9 on how her image was shaped by sexist tropes of her time. Also worth checking out: Hindustan Times’ stunning interactive feature documenting her every Hindi film song. The Telegraph has a piece on her great love for cricket. Looking for a playlist? Harini Calamur put together her favourite Lata songs—and each one is a gem. Also nice: They are all embedded on a single page so you don’t have to keep clicking through.