A French Tutor's Unforgettable Encounter with Asha Bhosle
In 2003, I embarked on my career as a French language instructor. Several years into this profession, I received a unique request: to conduct a specialized conversation workshop for two young children eager to learn French as a hobby. These were nine-year-old twins, Zanai and Ranjai, who could not attend regular adult courses, necessitating lessons at their residence in Bandra, Mumbai.
The First Meeting: A Surprising Introduction
Upon arriving at their apartment on the top floor of a building, I rang the bell. A short, elderly lady dressed in a pastel crepe sari with floral patterns opened the door. She seemed vaguely familiar. Gesturing toward the sofa, she indicated I should sit, while she took a seat opposite, making phone calls on a landline and humming Hemant Kumar's classic song ‘Pukar lo’. In that moment, I froze—I recognized the voice! It was none other than the legendary playback singer Asha Bhosle.
Maintaining professional composure, I waited silently until Mrs. Anuja Bhosle, the twins' mother, arrived. She greeted me with a simple ‘Hello Miss’ and introduced us: ‘Meet my mother-in-law, Mrs. Asha Bhosle.’ Before I could process it, words spilled from my mouth: ‘Of course. My aunts have worked with you. Rekha and Chitra.’ Asha tai's eyes lit up with recognition. My maternal aunts were stars of Marathi cinema in the 1950s, and she had sung for many of their films.
She inquired warmly, ‘Kusum kashi ahe?’—How is Kusum?—using my aunt's real name, a detail few knew outside our family. Kumud and Kusum were their birth names, with Rekha and Chitra as their screen personas. This personal connection instantly broke the ice, just as the twins, podgy and joyous with wonderstruck eyes, bounced into the room, ready for our French lesson.
Building a Bond: Lessons and Laughter
Over the next two years, I visited weekly for language workshops, which continued until my son Alyosh was born. Asha tai often joined in, showing keen interest in learning the French alphabet and asking how to spell her name in the language. It was a surreal experience, blurring the lines between my role as a Francophone tutor and that of a Marathi cinema fangirl.
She would playfully tease the children during lessons, saying in Marathi, ‘Hya baai khup kadak ahet. Neet abhyas kara’—‘This Madam is very strict. Study well!’—eliciting laughter from all. Her multilingual flair shone as she conversed in Bengali with the twins' friend, leaving me mesmerized and struggling to refocus on teaching.
Asha tai's punctuality meant I often arrived early, leading to cherished one-on-one conversations. She reminisced about her early days in Marathi cinema, recalling how she would pick up my aunts from their home in Dadar, urging, ‘Chalaa ga mulinno!’—Come on, girls!—and drive them to rehearsals and recordings.
Personal Moments: Food, Family, and Music
Our interactions extended beyond French lessons. She once craved chicken sandwiches and insisted we order from Candies, sharing a delightful meal over tea. On another occasion, she persuaded me to try her creamy chicken curry with rice, revealing her secret ingredient: milk, not coconut milk. In return, I often brought kheerkodom, a Bengali sweet, which she appreciated with amusement, noting Bengalis' expertise in preparing it.
A particularly memorable moment occurred when I entered the house to find Zanai rehearsing her first film song, a lively children's tune about rain. Asha tai mentored her granddaughter with cheerful encouragement, teaching her to visualize choreography and feel the rhythm. Witnessing this legendary singer guide the next generation was an awe-inspiring experience that highlighted her genius and affection.
Cultural Exchange: French Festivities and Interviews
During a December lesson on French festivals, Asha tai joined in singing Christmas carols. I scribbled the lyrics of ‘Jingle Bells’ in phonetic Devanagari script for her, and she enthusiastically sang along: ‘Vive le vent, Vive le vent, Vive le vent d'hiver!’ This festive workshop was a riot of joy and cultural blending.
Later, the Alliance Française asked me to interview Asha tai for their magazine Impressions, focusing on her French connections. She agreed readily, and during our chat, she humorously claimed to speak only French when I asked about the interview language. She fondly recalled her visits to Paris, including tributes to the Louvre, meals at the Eiffel Tower, and her love for French culture, from the film Gigi to L'Occitane products. She expressed her dream for her grandchildren to speak French, calling it ‘the world's sweetest language’—a poignant statement from the woman with the world's sweetest voice.
Legacy and Farewell
Asha tai's resilience was evident as a single parent and her continued work despite personal losses. After my son's birth, she always inquired about him with warmth. In March, she attended a Marathi play, encouraging theatre and announcing a future concert, met with thunderous applause.
On April 12, the nation was stunned by her passing at age 92. My mother and I paid our last respects, where Zanai simply said, ‘She wanted to learn French.’ This heartfelt moment encapsulated the bond we shared. Adieu, Asha Aai—your spirit and music live on in our memories.
