In May, I posted a tribute to Asha Bhonsle, and Anu remarked that ‘with her passing, an era has ended’. A comment I agreed with, but to which blog reader Pratick Mukherjee replied by saying that we still have Suman Kalyanpur and Sudha Malhotra.

And sadly, we do not have Suman Kalyanpur any more: she passed away on May 31, 2026, at the age of 89. An immensely talented singer, and one who proved her worth in one song after the other, but who remains underrated, often unfairly compared to Lata Mangeshkar. Even though their voices, I think, were very similar—but Lata was a colossus no-one could really beat.

That, however, is a debate for elsewhere, and for another time. For now, I want to focus on Suman Kalyanpur, and to celebrate her work in ten songs. I had dithered over whether I should focus on ten duets or ten solos, and then decided to not restrict myself, because my favourite Suman Kalyanpur songs include both duets as well as solos.

As always, these are all from pre-1970s Hindi films that I’ve seen. This list is in no particular order, though my favourites cluster at the top of the list.

1. Garjat barsat saawan aayo re (Barsaat ki Raat, 1960): With Kamal Barot. One of my favourite duets, irrespective of year, genre, singers, whatever. Composed by Roshan and with lyrics by Sahir, this stunning paean to the monsoon has the voices of Suman Kalyanpur and Kamal Barot harmonizing perfectly through much of the song. Their voices are crystal-clear, exquisite; occasionally just one singer singing a line, the other singing the next one—before they come together again. This is one of those rare songs where I always wish the song was longer, it’s so beautiful.

2. Mere mehboob na jaa (Noor Mahal, 1965): A classic song, from a film that is deservedly forgotten. Noor Mahal was a terrible film, badly plotted, badly cast, and just so overall bad that it was hilarious. But the one thing that redeemed it—the only reason this film should be remembered—was Mere mehboob na jaa, sung by Suman Kalyanpur, composed by Jaani Babu Qawwal and with lyrics by Saba Afghani. The restraint in her voice, the control as she goes from quiet, slow and low to high, full of emotion—the desperation of a woman pleading with her beloved to stay—is impressive.

3. Bujha diye hain khud apne haathon (Shagoon, 1964): Most people tend to remember Shagoon for the poignant Tum apna ranj-o-gham, sung by Jagjit Kaur and lip-synced by Nivedita/Libi Rana. But Suman Kalyanpur sang two excellent songs for the film, both as playback for Waheeda Rehman, who played the lead female here.

In Parbaton ke pedon par, Suman’s co-singer was Mohammad Rafi: it’s a beautiful song exemplifying Sahir Ludhianvi’s ability to use nature as an effective backdrop for romance. But further on in the film, when the romance has fizzled out and the heroine is in utter despair, there comes this heartbreakingly tragic song of hopelessness. The emotion in Suman Kalyanpur’s voice is excellent: this is a woman who is on the verge of tears, but she is holding on, somehow stopping herself from breaking down.

4. Aajkal tere-mere pyaar ke charche (Brahmachari, 1968): With Mohammad Rafi. Rafi was one of Suman Kalyanpur’s more frequent co-singers: they sang a number of wonderful songs together (including the all-too-brief duet version of Rahein na rahein hum). This one, with music by Shankar-Jaikishan and lyrics by Shailendra, is a particular favourite of mine: so much pep, so much verve—and Suman matches Rafi’s energy perfectly. She sounds a very good fit for Mumtaz, too.

5. Thehariye hosh mein aa loon (Mohabbat Isko Kehte Hain, 1965): With Mohammad Rafi. Another love song with Rafi, but this one couldn’t be more different from the high-octane, uninhibited expressiveness of Aajkal tere-mere pyaar ke charche. Khayyam and Majrooh Sultanpuri created some lovely songs for Mohabbat Isko Kehte Hain (another beautiful one is Jo humpe guzarti hai), and this one, sweetly flirtatious and soothing, is especially good. Rafi opens the song and for the first verse, Suman has no real singing to do; but when she joins the song, the shy demureness of her voice echoes Nanda’s acting very well.

6. Na tum humein jaano (Baat ek Raat ki, 1962): The hauntingly beautiful (music by SD Burman, lyrics by Majrooh) duet version of this song has Hemant singing most of the song and Suman Kalyanpur joining in only towards the end when Waheeda Rehman’s traumatized character, jolted into the present, begins to sing. But in the flashback in this film, we see another version of Na tum humein jaano: where Waheeda’s character, deeply in love, waits for the arrival of her beloved and listens to a song that echoes her emotions. Beautifully sung.

7. Yeh mausam rangeen sama (Modern Girl, 1961): With Mukesh. Composed by Ravi, and with lyrics by Gulshan Bawra, Yeh mausam rangeen sama is probably the one reason why people remember Modern Girl, otherwise a fairly lacklustre and forgettable film. Mukesh singing a frothy, light-hearted song is (for me) a big tick; and Suman Kalyanpur matches him in the playfulness of this sweet little love song.

8. Na na na re na na haath na lagaana (Taj Mahal, 1962): With Minoo Purushottam. Suman Kalyanpur seems to have been given some of her best songs by Roshan, who also composed the music for Taj Mahal. In this dance, picturized on Helen and Madhumati, Suman Kalyanpur teams up with Minoo Purushottam to sing a two-women duet that uses the common performance scenario of a woman dressed as a man flirting with a woman. It’s fast, it’s energetic, and Sahir’s lyrics have a rustic earthiness to them that works very well for the situation imagined here.

9. Ajhun na aaye baalma saawan beeta jaaye (Saanjh aur Savera, 1964): With Mohammad Rafi. Yet another duet with Rafi, and—compare this to the other Rafi-Suman Kalyanpur duets on this list, Aajkal tere-mere pyaar ke charche and Thehariye hosh mein aa loon—a very different one. Composed by Shankar Jaikishan (with lyrics by Hasrat Jaipuri), Ajhun na aaye baalma is based on raag Madhuvanti. Suman Kalyanpur had trained in classical vocals under gurus like Abdul Rehman Khan and Pandit Keshavrao Bhole, and she matches Rafi’s virtuosity as they sing this song. Most people tend to regard this as Rafi’s song, and he is in the forefront, but Suman Kalyanpur is I think not to be sneezed at here.

10. Sharaabi sharaabi yeh saawan ka mausam (Noorjehan, 1967): I began this list with a song that celebrates the monsoon, and I’ll end it with a similar song. Sharaabi sharaabi yeh saawan ka mausam has Suman Kalyanpur singing playback for Meena Kumari. As for Garjat barsat saawan aayo re, the music for Noorjehan too was composed by Roshan; the lyrics are by Shakeel Badayuni. Personally, I think the lyrics—so much imagery evoking the monsoon—hold centre stage here; Roshan keeps the music deliberately understated to allow Suman’s voice to shine.

RIP, Sumanji. May your voice live on.