You shall always remain our eye in the storm, the immortal voice, and the eternal first love of us Millennials. My love affair with our heartthrob, Zubeen Garg, began when I was just 12 springs old, an adolescent brimming with rebellious hormones that my folks found far too hot to handle. At that tender age, when the world seemed confusing and rules felt like shackles, Zubeen Da became my sweet poison, my rebellion, and my secret sanctuary. Like every other teenage girl, I was hopelessly addicted; his voice felt like it spoke only to me, his songs echoing every unspoken feeling I carried inside.
From his posters pinned up in hidden corners to the cassettes I played endlessly, my little secret trunk became a treasure chest of trinkets, scribbled lyrics, and four-line amateur ballads dedicated to my first love. To me, Zubeen Da wasn’t just an artist; he was a companion through growing pains, a muse who unknowingly shaped my teenage dreams and gave my restless spirit a rhythm to sway to, a Gypsyheart80.
My first date with him was arranged through Anamika in 1992. Nuh! She wasn’t a girl; she was his very first curtain-raiser album, one that disappeared off the shelves like hot cakes the moment it was released. Anamika didn’t just introduce him as an artist; she announced him as an overnight sensation, a voice with a face so pure, romantic, and heartfelt that it instantly tugged at the heartstrings. From that moment, he wasn’t merely a singer; he became the dream lover of every girl who grew up in the 80s.
Flashback to why I call him my poison. Back in those days, times were different, and so was society. I wouldn’t call it conservative exactly, but in my hometown, there was only one co-ed school, while the rest were either for boys or for girls. My Ma, fondly nicknamed Hitler Ma (not by me, but unanimously by my friends), earned that title fair and square. She had a strict rulebook of her own: no straying from classical music, no humming, let alone singing anything outside of it. She never allowed me to attend school picnics either, fearing that boys and girls would end up fawning over each other with romantic songs.
But every action has an equal and opposite reaction, that’s Newton’s law, isn’t it? So, being me, I gravitated all the more toward Zubeen and his voice. His songs became my rebellion, my escape, my sweet poison. More than just music, he became the anthem of my hidden desires, the companion to all that I wasn’t allowed to express out loud.
Our very own Anamika featured seven soulful tracks, songs that need no introduction, each etched deeply into our memories. We can recite every line with almost religious reverence, yetI’ll still list them here, to preserve them for my own memory and for the millions of admirers and fans of Zubeen Da across India and worldwide. They are: ‘PritirXubaxe,’ ‘MonorNijanot,’ ‘Gaane Ki Aane,’ ‘Kio Janu Aji,’ ‘XunaXuna,’ ‘PothePothe,’ and ‘Hiya Dohe.’
Each track became an instant anthem for us. I still remember how the schoolboys would strum Anamika on their acoustic guitars, producing a little chaotic cacophony as they tried to woo their first crushes. As for yours truly, always a die-hard romantic at heart, dating back to the age of Romanticism, my personal favourites were ‘Endhar Hobo Nuwaru, Mosi Dibo Nokhuju’ (Asha) and ‘PritirXubaxe’ (Anamika).’ From that first date with Anamika to the countless hours spent listening in secret, Zubeen Da became more than a singer; he became my voice, my courage, and my first love in the world of music.
That’s not all about Assam’s eternal heartthrob. Destiny, it seems, had a sense of humour: I first spotted my now-husband, then yet-to-be boyfriend, happily headbanging with his former Cotton College hostel mates, full of youthful abandon. He had already left for higher studies in Delhi, yet had returned just for Zubeen Da. How could he resist? It was during Zubeen Da’s electrifying performance at the Centenary Celebrations of our alma mater in 2000. In that moment, I realised that Zubeen Da didn’t just sing to the hearts of millions; he somehow managed to strike a chord in my personal world too, weaving his magic into memories far beyond the music itself.
And finally, the HURRICANE (refer to Bob Dylan, please) that struck Assam on September 19, 2025, is a day forever etched into our hearts and souls. Being a news junkie, I was aimlessly scrolling through updates when my eyes froze on a single word: ‘Unconscious.’ Moments later came ‘Freak Accident.’ Then the heart-stopping word’ICU.’ And finally, the one I can never forget, ‘No More.’ I cannot relive that moment. My entire body shook like a leaf; I was paralysed, immobile, as though time itself had collapsed around me.
My world collapsed like a fragile house of glass. I couldn’t process it, teetering on the edge of hysteria. Yet, being an eternal optimist, I prayed to God that it was all just rumours, mere fake news. For five marathon minutes, I manifested, pleading with Angel Michael to sweep away the negativity and restore all to well. But no, the universe has its own way of operating. And then came the death blow to our hearts. Our Zubeen Da…’
At first, I refused to believe. How could a world without Zubeen Da even exist? Denial shielded me, whispering that he was still here, still singing. Then came the silent bargaining: if I played his songs on loop, if I kept him alive in every note, maybe he would come back. But soon, the anger rose. Burgeoning, restless, raw. How unfair it felt that the one who was always there for us, in love, in heartbreak, in joy, in despair, should leave us yearning like this. Whom should we blame?
And yet, through denial, through bargaining, through anger, Zubeen Da remains. His voice is still the medicine, his music still the therapy, his soul forever etched into ours. I find myself stuck in these three stages of grief, and only Zubeen Da knows what else he has planned for us with his eternal “Ghenta Kaku Khatir Nokoru.” The Government of Assam declared a three-day mourning to celebrate the life of our LEGEND from September 20th to 22nd. Every nook and corner of Assam weeps today with our beloved Zubeen Da’s favourite song, MAYABINI…
LEGENDS ARE IMMORTAL! A GENERATION UNITED BY YOUR IDEOLOGIES, AND WE’LL CARRY ON YOUR LEGACY! No, I refuse to use the usual phrases when someone is sent off to the other side of the world. To my first heartthrob, I will say: AU REVOIR, ZUBEEN DA.