No one plays a weekend crowd like Usha Uthup, the pop pioneer who started her career as a lounge singer in Kolkata’s oldest-standing nightclub. However, the singer refuses to take any show for granted. So, if you walk into an
Usha Uthup gig on a Sunday morning expecting mellow classics, Kolkata’s ‘didi’ will knock your socks off. The audiences at a recent literary fest in Park Street were in for a surprise as they were greeted with Ms Uthup’s cover of Adele’s smokey, soaring Bond ballad Skyfall, followed by a rendition of Bulleya, which she accompanied with her
own tambourine.
The icon, who turned 75 in November, can sing jazz, rock, pop and classics in 17 Indian and eight foreign languages. “I went to a convent school in Mumbai. English was the medium of teaching, Hindi was my second language, Marathi was my third language, and French was my fourth language. And at home, we spoke in Tamil!” Uthup broke down.
The singer also got candid about her signature look considering her initialled bindi, flowers, dark lips and immaculate silk saris have been pop culture constants for half a decade now. “Most people think I’m like Jayalalithaa and I have thousands of saris but that’s because they don’t see me every day. I’ve got caught in my web and can’t go anywhere without my tip (bindi). Even airport security stops me and asks, ‘Oh! tomar tip kothay gelo?!’”
Kolkata used to be the big, bad, nightclub cityI hailed from Mumbai and people think it’s a big, bad city. But back then, Kolkata used to be the big, evil city with the nightclubs! Nobody ever thought a lady in a sari would sing what I sing. The first night at Trincas when I was announced and I walked in, you could hear the people in the front row going, ‘oh god, what is this amma going to do?’ And I started singing Al Martino’s Never Know How Much I Love You... people gasped! That reaction was what spurned everything. Most people won’t admit this but I can… I live for your applause.
You don’t always have to point out people’s mistakesWhen my father used to shave in front of the mirror, I would go up to him and say, ‘Hi Appa’ and he would say ‘How much?’ I would say I need four annas to buy bhel. My father used to say it’s in the drawer. But each time I used to grab whatever I could in my mutthi and run away. Each time I would say to God that this is the last time I’m doing this. But I’d do it again the next day. Many years later, there was a strike in Mumbai and my father needed some money. I was 15 years into my singing career. So he came into my room in Mumbai and said, ‘Hi Usha’. And I said, ‘How much?’ My Appa said, ‘Today I need some money, will you give it to me?’ and I started crying.
I told him that throughout my school life I used to take much more than the four annas I told him I needed. He said ‘Usha do you think I didn’t know that! That’s what I think life is all about. You don’t always have to point out everybody’s mistakes and be ready for an argument. Sometimes it is nice just to know that the other person is so important.
People still confuse me with Ila and ShubhaPeople still come up to me and say, ‘Ila Arun?!’ Some of them will come up to me and say, ‘Apke itne bade fan hai… apka sabse favourite gaana hai Ab Ke Sawan!’ But I don’t correct them because
Shubha Mudgal is a dear friend. I’ll call her up and tell her, ‘Someone again mistook me for you.’ And she replies, ‘Don’t worry Usha because someone came up to me and said I sing Rambha Ho very well!
Pix: Samik Sen