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While Assam drowned in grief and television channels cycled tributes from Sonapur’s Zubeen Kshetra to his Kahilipara residence in Guwahati, the most powerful remembrance of Zubeen Garg unfolded far from any newsroom’s radar, where the story of Jibon Borthakur first began.
But far away from the urban rush, in a small, peaceful corner of the Greater Jhanji region, something far more intimate, far more emotional, was unfolding quietly, almost invisibly.
In Tamulichiga village, where Zubeen spent his early days as Jibon Borthakur, the people who watched him grow were mourning not a superstar, but their own child.
A Home That the Cameras Forgot
Tamulichiga, tucked between the borders of Sivasagar and Jorhat, holds Zubeen’s ancestral home. It stands near Ghana Kanta Borah College, a place not a single news crew turned their lens to.
Yet, this is where he once learned his first songs, where he dreamt before the world knew his name, where he spent his early days as Jibon.
And this week, this village remembered him in a way only a family can.
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A Tribute That Needed No Stage, No Spotlight
From November 18, Zubeen’s birthdate, to November 21, Tamulichiga has been holding a four-day remembrance unlike anything the cities have witnessed.
Here, every villager came. People from every religion, every community stood shoulder-to-shoulder: Under the same sky, they prayed for the same son. Naam-ghar chants echoed, the Muslim community offered namaz for his peace, and a continuous Bhagavat recital has been flowing like a river of devotion.
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On the first day, they planted Nahor saplings, the tree Zubeen famously adored, the tree he immortalised in song. A quiet procession followed, not loud, not flashy, but filled with memories that made many break down mid-walk.
The Final Day: A Celebration for the Child They Raised
On November 21, the village will close the ceremony with a cultural evening featuring local artists and children. Many of them are singing because Zubeen once inspired them to.
There will be no celebrity guests. No glittering stage.Just raw, heartfelt love.The kind that doesn’t need publicity.
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While the state’s urban centres received wall-to-wall coverage, Tamulichiga, his the beginning, his roots was left in the shadows. The state’s media lens stayed fixated on Sonapur’s crowds and Guwahati’s rituals. That’s completely okay. But the place that held the first chapter of his life remained unseen.
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