There was once a little girl from Nagaon, Assam, whose voice seemed to possess a rare kind of magic. This was in the 1980s. Before long, the young singer had become not merely a cherished name in Assam’s music world, but a promising voice attracting attention in the wider Indian music industry.
From Nagaon, she moved to Guwahati, and then to Mumbai, captivating listeners wherever she went with the sweetness and power of her voice. She was only nine or ten years old when she entered the world of Bollywood and came into contact with established music directors of the time, including Anu Malik.
Known as Baby Munmi, she began her Bollywood journey as a playback singer. In 1986, she received an opportunity to sing for the Hindi film Pyar Ke Do Pal. One of the songs she sang was “Mummy Yaad Aati Hai.”
The film, starring Mithun Chakraborty and Jaya Prada, had music composed by Anu Malik. Munmi also sang songs with Shabbir Kumar, while another number, “Daddy Yaad Aati Hai,” was performed with Kavita Krishnamurti.
She had the opportunity to sing on the film’s soundtrack, and those recordings have survived the passage of time. Even today, the songs can be found on music-streaming platforms such as Spotify, JioSaavn and Gaana.
The songs remained. But Baby Munmi seemed to disappear.
At one point, there was considerable discussion in Bollywood about the young singer. Some even described the child prodigy as a potential “future Lata Mangeshkar.”
Yet despite possessing a remarkably melodious voice and obvious talent, she gradually vanished from Bollywood. Why did such a gifted singer disappear from the industry? It is a question that, for years, few seriously attempted to answer.
Back in Assam, noted music director, lyricist and composer Prashanta Bordoloi had worked extensively with her and had her sing several Assamese songs that would go on to become enduring favourites.
Those songs remained too. But Munmi Bora, the singer whose voice brought life to songs such as “Sharadi Komal Jonak Mayare Mon Utola Kore…”, was no longer visible in the music world.
After years with little news about either her music or her whereabouts, journalist Debajit Bhuyan eventually tracked her down for an interview on a television channel. The interview brought Munmi back into public memory for a brief moment.
Then came silence again.
Where was she? Why had she withdrawn so completely?
In searching for answers about the girl once known as Baby Munmi and the woman she later became, one of the most important and reliable sources was Prashanta Bordoloi. Many of Munmi Bora’s memorable songs and albums had been created with his initiative, encouragement and musical direction.
Recalling their work together, Bordoloi spoke about one of his earliest experiences with Munmi.
“I first worked with Munmi on a film in 1989. She was still very young then. We had taken her for the film Abhiman, directed by Mridul Gupta. Sixteen of us went to Bombay for the film work.”
After the music had been completed, Munmi was scheduled to dub her songs that night. But when the team saw her in the morning, she was running a fever of around 103–104°F.
They were worried and told her to take medicine and forget about singing for the moment.
Munmi refused.
She insisted that she would sing and said she expected to feel better by evening. She also told them that whenever she developed a fever, it sometimes took fifteen days or even a month for her to recover. How, she asked, could the entire team remain in Bombay waiting for so long?
Bordoloi reassured her that she did not need to worry about those matters. Her only responsibility was to rest.
The morning session was cancelled, with the hope that she might recover enough to record later in the day.
Munmi took medicine and prepared herself to sing. Her fever gradually came down. Accompanied by her mother and others, she reached the studio.
She would sing one song and then lie down with her head in her mother’s lap. Bordoloi recalled going to a nearby pharmacy to buy medicine for her. Despite being ill, the young singer recorded four songs for the film.
That was Munmi Bora in 1989.
One of her songs in the Assamese film went on to receive national recognition. Bordoloi recalled that she won a Best Singer honour for “Dila Kono Rong,” a duet performed by Munmi and Ariful Haque.
According to Bordoloi, director Mridul Gupta had told him beforehand that the song was closely connected to the film’s entire narrative. A major turning point in the story emerged through the song, followed by the entry of actor Biju Phukan.
“She had enormous talent,” Bordoloi remembered.
The lyrics, composition and music of the song were by Prashanta Bordoloi, who was also the music director of Abhiman.
Bordoloi was also behind Munmi’s first cassette, which included the beloved song “Sharadi Komal.”
There is a story behind another song from that period.
During one of his visits to Bombay, Bordoloi had met a female singer through a friend. Listening to her, he gained an insight into the contrast between the glamorous lives performers appeared to lead and the reality behind that glamour.
The experience inspired him to create a Western-influenced song built around the imagined life of a dancer—someone whose job was to entertain others, while her own inner life remained very different from the colourful world audiences saw.
The resulting song was “Ei Nijan Rati Duroir Torak Mati Mati.”
Musically, it was not an easy song. Its sequences changed rapidly and individual lines demanded careful modulation.
Bordoloi initially asked Munmi’s mother to explain the song to her, believing that the young singer would understand its emotional nuances more easily that way. With her mother helping to interpret the expressions and mood, Munmi performed it.
Bordoloi was astonished.
She sang with such expressive depth that it revealed just how unusual her talent was.
Munmi was only around 13 or 14 years old.
What Happened to Such a Gifted Singer?
The question remains: why did a singer with so much promise disappear?
Did something happen during her years in Bollywood?
Speaking about events he witnessed or heard about during that period, Prashanta Bordoloi made a striking claim: he believed Munmi’s career was obstructed because of opposition from an already established singer in the Indian music industry.
Bordoloi recalled travelling frequently to Bombay for work in 1988, 1989, 1991 and 1992.
According to him, Munmi told him that she had recorded a song for director Manmohan Desai’s Ganga Jamuna Saraswati, one of the major productions of the period. The film featured stars including Amitabh Bachchan, Mithun Chakraborty, Hema Malini and Jaya Prada, with Anu Malik as music director.
Munmi was understandably excited. The recording had already been completed.
But later, according to Bordoloi’s account, she went to see the film and discovered that her song was not in it.
Nobody gave her a clear explanation.
For the young singer, Bordoloi said, this was her first major heartbreak in Bollywood. Even then, she continued pursuing music.
Bordoloi went further, recounting what he said he heard in Bombay at the time. He alleged that people within the industry discussed opposition from Lata Mangeshkar to the emerging young singer.
According to Bordoloi, some established Bollywood figures felt that what had happened was unfair. He recalled hearing claims to the effect that Mangeshkar would not directly intervene, but would make it known that those choosing Munmi should not approach her.
These are Bordoloi’s recollections and allegations, rather than independently established facts. But in his account, such pressure had a damaging effect on Munmi’s emerging career.
He connected the episode with stories he had heard about other singers, including Suman Kalyanpur and Hemlata, who had also faced the immense competitive power surrounding established voices in the Hindi film industry.
At the same time, Bordoloi acknowledged Lata Mangeshkar’s extraordinary stature. She was virtually an institution in herself and commanded immense respect.
But Munmi, too, was receiving remarkable attention. Magazines in Bollywood had reportedly written about the young Assamese singer, with some calling her the “future Lata.”
Bordoloi wondered whether that publicity—and the industry’s growing confidence in Munmi’s potential—had unintentionally created forces that worked against her.
A Voice Audiences Loved
Bordoloi recalled another incident that demonstrated how naturally audiences responded to Munmi.
Once, while he was in Bombay, Munmi and her family asked whether he would accompany them to a programme where she had been invited to sing. It was a “Govinda Night,” organised at a time when Govinda had recently emerged as a major new star.
Bordoloi went with them.
There, he witnessed firsthand how much the audience loved Munmi’s singing.
But he had actually heard her voice years earlier.
He remembered first hearing about Munmi around 1983, when he had gone somewhere in connection with work involving Bhupen Hazarika. At someone’s house, he heard a recording playing on a tape recorder.
He was told that the singer was a girl only seven or eight years old.
The voice stayed with him.
Years later, while travelling through Guwahati on his way to Dibrugarh, a companion pointed towards a house and told him that a girl with an exceptionally good singing voice lived there.
Bordoloi checked the time and realised he had a little to spare.
He decided to visit.
The girl was not at home, but her mother was. During their conversation, he discovered an existing connection: Munmi’s maternal aunt, Ranjana Mahanta, used to approach him for songs.
Eventually, a producer named Biren Das came forward to make a cassette.
The voice Bordoloi had heard years earlier was still in his mind.
That was how Munmi’s cassette came into being.
Where Is Munmi Bora Now?
Asked whether he remained in contact with Munmi, Bordoloi said that they did communicate.
He had also helped establish the initial contact that made the later television interview with Munmi possible.
According to information he subsequently received from Mukut, whom he described as being like an elder brother to Munmi, she did not watch the interview when it was first broadcast.
Bordoloi informed her that it would be repeated the following day at around 4:30 pm so that she could watch it then.
She did watch some of it.
But after a while, she got up and walked away from the television.
Bordoloi believes Munmi now carries a profound aversion towards music—an emotional distance so deep that it is difficult for those who knew her as a singer to comprehend.
Munmi Bora’s husband is Vishal Anand. Bordoloi recalled Vishal once telling him that perhaps he was the person who could persuade Munmi to return to music.
Her mother had expressed a similar hope: perhaps if Bordoloi created a few songs and personally asked Munmi to sing them, she would not refuse.
But Bordoloi’s own health made travelling difficult.
And by then, Munmi had moved even farther away.
She now lives in the Philippines with her husband.
That, then, is the latest chapter in the story of the once-famous Baby Munmi—Munmi Bora.
The songs remain. The memories remain. The recordings of the little Assamese girl who once attracted attention in Bollywood can still be heard.
But the rare talent who once seemed completely at home in the world of melody now lives thousands of kilometres away from it—in the Philippines, far removed from the musical life that once defined her.
For those who remember her voice, however, the princess of melody was never entirely lost. She simply chose—or was compelled by circumstances—to leave the stage behind.
Original Assamese title: ফিলিপাইনচত কুশলে আছে সুৰৰ ৰাজকুমাৰী
Original writer: মৃদুল কুমাৰ সন্দিকৈ (Mridul Kumar Handique)
Originally published in Assamese in: Asomiya Pratidin (Assamese Pratidin)
This English article is adapted from the original Assamese-language article titled “ফিলিপাইনচত কুশলে আছে সুৰৰ ৰাজকুমাৰী”, written by মৃদুল কুমাৰ সন্দিকৈ (Mridul Kumar Handique) and originally published in Asomiya Pratidin. Statements concerning events in the Hindi film industry and Lata Mangeshkar are presented as recollections and claims attributed to Prashanta Bordoloi in the original article, and should not be read as independently verified findings.