She never got the chance to set foot here, but her melodies have been influencing generations of Chinese mainlanders.

She is Taiwanese singer Teresa Teng. On May 8, 1995, she died unexpectedly of asthma in a hotel room in Chiang Mai in Thailand. She was only 42.

I remember the moment when her death was announced on a news program on China Central Television (CCTV). My parents almost burst into tears.

It was the first time her name was mentioned on CCTV, although hundreds of her songs had been circulated to every corner of the Chinese mainland from audio tapes and foreign radio broadcasts.

She was admired and loved by the people but never officially accepted by the government. Her long-cherished dream was to sing on the Chinese mainland. It was never realized for political reasons - she was suspected of being a spy for the Kuomintang.

I grew up with Teng's songs. My mother told me on her first date with my father that she fell in love with the young man who put a tape player on his bicycle handlebars that repeatedly played the song "Tianmimi."

That was back in the early 1980s when mainstream music was still dominated by revolutionary songs aiming to motivate people to devote themselves to building a socialist society.

Teng's songs, mainly featuring sentiments about love, were identified as decadent by the authorities.

However, the soft songs of Teng, reflecting the happiness, sadness, desire and melancholy of human feelings, resonated with the common people. For them, Teng was a welcome alternative.

Teng's songs marked an enlightenment for popular culture in the Chinese mainland. Today, popular music is diversified but it is a tradition that young singers cover songs from Teng, as a way to salute to the first popular idol of Chinese people.

I frequently encounter old people who use music players repeatedly airing Teng's songs while strolling on the streets, just as what my father did 30 years ago. Sometimes I wonder whether the next generation will still listen to Teng. But I don't think she will be forgotten, because she was the first to tell us to sing about our own emotions.

This article was published on the Global Times Metropolitan section Two Cents page, a space for reader submissions, including opinion, humor and satire. The ideas expressed are those of the author alone, and do not represent the position of the Global Times.