Music finds us when we are small and messy and honest. A single voice can stitch a memory into your bones, a bus ride, a rainy night, a first crush  and then, somehow, the voice is gone from our playlists. This piece is for those voices: the singers who gave us songs that became part of our lives, then quietly disappeared from Bollywood’s spotlight. Play these tracks, and you’ll understand why forgetting them feels like losing a part of ourselves.

Hosanna – Leon D’Souza

When Hosanna released, it wasn't just another song, the first notes hit like a wave of fresh air after a heavy day. Leon D’Souza’s voice felt like stepping out in the rain.. Gentle unrushed. It showed how love can be the softest feeling in the world. He made falling in love feel like a silent prayer . the quiet joy of holding someone’s hand for the first time, it was all hidden in his voice. A quiet yes in the chest. It makes me believe love is still the best thing we get in this life.
whisper I still hear: “Hosanna… in the highest.”

Kabhi Kabhi Aditi – Rashid Ali

Kabhi Kabhi Aditi silently remaps the emotional rules, it lets you be a little scared There’s a gentle shrug in the rhythm that tells me to unclench my jaw, drink some water, and trust that the knot will loosen. Every time I’ve spiraled, this song has walked me back to the present like a good friend with a silly grin and chai in hand. It doesn’t deny the hard stuff; it just reminds me I’m bigger than it. I press play, my shoulders drop, and the day becomes doable.
A little echo in my head: “Kabhi kabhi Aditi zingai mein yuhi koi apna lgta hai…”  The industry may have forgotten them. But we carry them. In bus rides, in playlists, in broken hearts, in old diaries.

In Dino - Soham Chakraborty

In Dino is a quiet place in the middle of noise. It feels like sitting by a rainy window while the world runs late without me. The vocals don’t shout; they steady. I’ve played it on nights when the mind felt loud and the heart was tired, and somehow the edges softened. It helps me sort the noise from the signal. With this song, I remember that growth is quiet work and I don’t need all the answers tonight. Just the next step.
soft reminder I hear: “In dino…” that phrase lands like a calm hand on a stormy shoulder.

Behka - Karthik

Behka is that happy dizziness when you’re falling for someone and everything becomes a little cinematic. Suddenly even the elevator mirror looks kinder. You walk faster. You text too much. That line hits like a stolen laugh in a dim café or the dizzying flip in your stomach when someone looks back at you and smiles. The song makes you want to take chances, to call that person at midnight, to walk down a street you’ve never walked before just because they might be there. It’s the soundtrack to saying yes to plans I would’ve overthought. A little mischief, a lot of sparkle, zero apologies.
heartbeat line: “Behka… main behka.”

Why These Voices Matter

The industry moved on, sure. New trends, new names, new playlists. But these songs didn’t disappear from our lives. They became small anchors. Leon taught me that love can be gentle. Rashid reminded me to breathe through the mess. Tochi showed me that sorrow can be honest and steady. Soham gave me calm when everything felt loud. Karthik let me be joyfully reckless again.

None of them needed to be chart-toppers forever to matter. Their legacy is in the late-night plays, the sudden tears, the unexpected smiles at the grocery store. They lived in moments where we were allowed to be softer versions of ourselves.

Play them tonight. Alone, with someone you love, or when you need to pretend you’re okay until you actually are. Let the songs do what they did the first time: open a little window, clear the air, make the ordinary feel a bit like wonder.