Not Just a Singer, But a Home

It’s hard to put this into words. Zubeen Garg isn’t just gone; it feels like a part of Assam’s heartbeat has gone quiet too.

For so many of us, his songs weren’t just music. They were memories. They played in the background of our bus rides, our college fests, our heartbreaks, our Bihu nights. He was that familiar voice you could turn to full of energy, love, madness, and honesty all at once.

Zubeen never sang like a distant star. He sang like he was one of us. Sometimes off-beat, sometimes unpredictable, but always real. Maybe that’s why we felt so connected to him. He didn’t just give us hits; he gave us a sense of pride that someone from here could carry Assam to the rest of the country and beyond.

Now that he’s gone, there’s a strange silence. But it’s filled with echoes of Ya Ali, of Mayabini, of all those lyrics we never had to memorize because they were already in our blood.

He left us too soon. But the songs will stay. The feeling will stay. And every time we hear his voice again, it’ll remind us that legends don’t really go away. They just change form.

Rest easy, Zubeen. You gave us more than music. You gave us a piece of yourself.