But you can hear the strains of change—newcomer Shilpa Rao’s rich timbre that broods over love in Tose naina laage from the film Anwar; Rekha Bhardwaj’s husky voice that tells you about the tug of lust and desire in Namak ishq ka (Omkara) and Anoushka’s unbounded energy in Golmaal’s title track. From a time when you could hear only hear snatches of an Usha Uthup or a Reshma (Lambi judaai in Hero) in the chorus of the Mangeshkars, Alka Yagniks and Kavita Krishnamurthys, the voice of the Indian woman in Bollywood appears to have undergone a subtle shift. “There was a notion that only high-pitched female vocals add brightness to a song. That myth is being broken. Now there is more scope for warmer female voices. There were singers in the past, like Ila or Uthup, who also had deeper voices, but the songs for them were very few compared with today,” says Bhardwaj, who is also the wife of fimmaker and music director Vishal Bhardwaj (Omkara, Maqbool).

The change perhaps began a few years ago when Sunidhi Chauhan stormed the music scene. Since then, the trickle of huskier, textured voices has grown—from Vasundhara Das (Aks, Nayak, Lagaan) and Alisha Chinai to Soumya Rao (Zara zara in Rehna Hai Tere Dil Mein) and Shubha Mudgal (Raincoat, Hazaar Khwahishein Aisi) and Bhardwaj. Mudgal’s brassy voice in Rituparna Sengupta’s Raincoat is a character in itself—its almost masculine texture speaking of the rumble of thunder and the bitter sadness of foiled love.

The difference in the last few years, say singers, has been the influence of international music on film music. “The younger lot of music directors is looking for a different sound. They use elements of rock, hip-hop and world music, for which they need a new kind of voice,” says Rao. “Music directors are blending Indian melodies with western styles, and that explains the comfortable accommodation of deep female voices,” says Bhardwaj, who is lending her voice for the soundtracks of forthcoming films like My Father Gandhi, Laga Chunari Mein Daag and Gulaal. Her private album Ishqa Ishqa, a collection of Sufi songs written by Gulzar, was released four years ago to critical acclaim.

But it’s not that Hindi film music has never strayed beyond the archetype. In Umrao Jaan (1981), Khayyam got Asha Bhosle to sing two notes lower than her usual pitch. The result was musical history. When Lata made her debut in the 1940s, her thin, high-pitched voice was the odd one out. The reigning singers were Noorjehan, Shamshad Begum and Zohra Ambala, women with robust voices. That tradition soon died out.

Vishal Dadlani of the Vishal-Shekhar music director duo (Golmaal, Bluffmaster and Taxi Number 9211) says his natural inclination is for the huskier voice. Ehsaan Noorani of the Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy trio agrees. “Our preference is for a medium-pitched kind of tone that is much warmer. What is important is the right emotion must be conveyed.” The team’s hits prove as much—It’s the time to disco (Vasundhara Das in Kal ho Na Ho), Saaiyan Re (Salaam-E-Ishq). Again, in Jhoom Barabar Jhoom, they have used Vasundhara, Alisha and Sunidhi, all women with full-bodied voices.

But some prejudices still remain: romantic songs are out of bounds, not item numbers. “Romantic songs are usually duets. Since the male pitch is higher, a woman’s voice has to match it. That’s why we need high-pitched voices,” says Vishal.

Rekha, however, believes that argument hides a bias. “It’s not about how much bass (the lowest part of the musical range) a voice has, it’s about how people have been conditioned to listen to a “feminine” high-pitched voice,” says Rekha. “Intense songs in deeper vocals can also be deeply moving,” says the singer.

Listen to her number Rone do in Maqbool and you’ll know that if Lata can pierce your heart with Yun hasraton ke daag (Adalat), a deep voice can take you on a dark, relentless journey of pain.