Garima  Garg, Palmee and the echoes of “ Roi Roi Binale”

The lights at the recording studio have long gone dim, but 'Roi Roi Binale' still hums softly in the background, the final notes of a vice that once defined a generation. 

In the absence of Zubeen Garg, it is his wife, Garima Saikia Garg, who now stands at the intersection of grief and duty, trying to bring to life the last dream her husband left behind.

Last week, when Garima spoke to the media about 'Roi Roi Binale', her voice carried both pride and pain. She said Zubeen had poured his soul into the film that every frame reflected his heartbeat, and yet the film remained incomplete. He never got the chance to finish dubbing his part.

There is no avoiding that no technology or editing can fill ever.

Garima’s word came at a time when the air in Assam is still heavy with unanswered questions. 
She continues to dig into the circumstances surrounding Zubeen’s death.

Both his sister and wife, Garima, are now navigating a labyrinth of memories, whispers and half-truths.
After that came the late-night Facebook post of Garima.

She posted a heartfelt post for Zubeen, including a picture of both of them, stating that this picture is the last one for this life, but even though we are not together now, soon I’ll be with you, Goldie. Goldie is a name that Garima calls him.

She also said that, whatever the reason for your sudden demise, all of us should know the reason as soon as possible.

“Why”? is a big question that still lingers with her. 

It was less of a statement and more of a cry into the void. Underneath all, it was a human moment, a woman trying to keep herself from collapsing under the weight of loss, scrutiny, and endless questions.

At the same time, his sister, Palmee Borthakur, shared an emotional post mourning her late brother and demanding justice.

In her post, she recalled how he used to affectionately call her "Maman," and she wondered if she would ever hear him use that name again. 

Yet, she made it clear: for now, her focus was singular—ensuring that her brother received the justice he deserved.

In her words, every voice and every act of solidarity became a fuel for the fight ahead—a reminder that even in the darkest hours, collective strength can light the path toward justice.

The sets at Royal Global University buzzed with activity as work on Zubeen’s movie resumed, just as it had been planned. Among those present were his sister Palmee and wife Garima.

In an emotional moment, Garima spoke to the media, her voice trembling yet resolute. “Why did we have to lose someone who loved everyone?” she asked, her eyes reflecting a deep, personal grief. “Why was such injustice done to a person like him?”

She made it clear that this was not a moment for politics or opportunism. “We don’t want anyone to use his death for political gain,”.

“All we want is justice, and for that, we need everyone’s help.”

It was a rare glimpse into the personal pain of a sister’s love and a family’s resolve.

Behind the headlines and the sound bites, there’s a quieter story…. a story of a wife turned custodian, a sister holding her silence and a legacy that now belongs to everyone who ever listened to Zubeen’s song.

When the credits of Roi Roi Binale roll, they will not just mark the end of a film.

They carry the echo of everything left unsaid. Between a family and their grief and between a state a its irreplaceable voice.

Also Read: How Responsible Were We Towards Zubeen When He Was Alive?