The voice that once carried the dreams and sorrows of millions has gone silent. Guwahati city turned into a river of grief as hundreds of thousands gathered to bid farewell to Zubeen Garg — the heart and soul of Assam. Draped in garlands, his body was given state honours and a 21-gun salute, but the greatest tribute came from the people themselves. As his mortal remains arrived in a flower-decked vehicle, the crowd erupted into song, their trembling voices carrying the melody of Mayabini. Tears rolled down faces, yet the anthem of their beloved singer rose into the skies, as if to guide his soul home.
The 52-year-old legend’s death in Singapore on 19 September left his homeland stunned. He had gone to perform, to do what he loved most — but fate had other plans. A second autopsy confirmed no foul play, yet no report could soften the blow of losing the man who embodied music, freedom, and emotion for an entire generation.
The Rise of a Star, the Birth of an Icon
Zubeen’s journey began when he was just 19, still a college student with a fire in his heart. His first album Anamika in 1992 became an instant sensation, and suddenly Assam had a new voice to call its own. At a time when the state was scarred by violence and unrest, his songs about love, hope, and longing gave people something to hold on to.
By the time his Hindi hit Ya Ali shook the nation in 2006, Zubeen was already much more than a singer in Assam. He was a movement. His music was everywhere — from college canteens to bustling markets, from buses to weddings. He was not just heard, he was lived. His ripped jeans, bold sunglasses, and fearless attitude turned him into a style icon, and every April during Bihu, he reigned supreme, electrifying audiences across the state with concerts that felt more like festivals of life itself.
A Man Beyond the Stage
Zubeen was never confined to music. He was a voice of truth and courage. He denounced violence when others were silent, and he stood shoulder to shoulder with the people when they protested injustice or fought to protect their land. He rallied against laws he believed would harm his state, he fought to save trees from being cut down, and in the darkest days of the pandemic, he gave away his own apartment to serve as an isolation centre.
His generosity was legendary. Countless families across Assam whisper stories of how Zubeen quietly helped them — paying for medical treatment, for children’s education, for marriages and funerals. To his fans, he was not just an artist; he was a guardian, a brother, a friend. “He feared nobody. He spoke his heart out. And he was always there for people,” said one fan, his voice breaking at the cremation ground.
A Legacy Eternal
Assam declared three days of mourning, but for his people, the grief will stretch across a lifetime. Politicians, musicians, and leaders all paid tribute, yet none could capture what he truly meant. Prime Minister Narendra Modi called his contribution “rich and unforgettable,” but in Assam, Zubeen was more than a contributor — he was an emotion, a heartbeat.
Even now, his fan clubs, once dedicated to amplifying his music and his kindness, are the ones guiding crowds and organising tributes, holding together a shattered community.
Zubeen Garg was not just a singer. He was the rhythm of Assam, the laughter and the tears, the rebel and the romantic, the dream and the defiance. His voice may have been silenced, but his songs will forever echo in the hills, rivers, and hearts of the northeast. He will live on, not just as an artist, but as the very soul of his people.