Dear Editor,
The classic Lata Mangeshkar, dominated the Indian world of music,
With a physic of a story to withstand any test being forensic.
An intrinsic love for art, never with any goal being extrinsic,
Her beauty she maintained so basic, with a memory without any amnesic.
Being testy or moody, worse yet, toiling and twisting so broody,
Lata’s soothing melody, will certainly change the language of the body.
It will take thee into custody, transfixed with the seizure of a rhapsody,
Fused with a unique parody, and mesmerized by sheer prosody.
Mangeshkar’s fame and fortune rose to a high, due to many a tune,
Opportune moments derived when young, a voice her father did prune.
Immune to any renditions or restrictions, to her likeness, all attune,
Soon, no dune stooped her, not even the Monsoon season in June.
Didi’s assertive tone mellowed the audience over the microphone,
Leaving no stone unturned as she reigned as a Queen on her throne.
Solitarily alone in a field, how difficult any attempt to match a clone,
It was bone chilling, knowing she reigned with autonomy over her zone.
Too sweet to describe, a feat ascribed with any song as a geet,
Only a music sheet she needed, like a nightingale, she would tweet.
Always willing to be on her feet, oh how she was welcomed in the street,
To greet her in frenzy, all went crazy, shouting and hailing, no way discreet.
What sentiment a doyen did serenade for all to acclaim and comment,
With a cool temperament to easily fashion the highest of complement.
So soothing an element which literally provides uncontrolled excitement,
The 35,000 odd records is a testament without being bias in judgement.
The world paid much attention, overwhelmed with fused emotion,
There was little option, to participate in any given competition.
Compensation for such artistry cannot be waged in financial reflection,
Generation of past, present and future, will accept a satisfied saturation.
Hema had a universal effect, awards and accolades so many, she did collect,
Always a winner when to select, the Voice of the Millennium, was so perfect.
Faultless and flawless, so much respect, no one found a reason to object,
She became a spotless subject, very melodious, there was no room for any defect.
At an amazing ninety and two, Lata gracefully bid a final farewell to history and society,
Leaving renowned recognition and gaiety to calmly detach only for purity in piety.
A cultural community too large in language and variety, sadly mourning in anxiety,
Will never forget the voice of sobriety, too true to deny but to remember in subtlety.
Respectfully,
Jai Lall
