By Jyotirmoy Prodhani
Zubeen Garg, is perhaps the most significant popular culture phenomenon Assam has ever produced. After Bhupen Hazarika, arguably Zubeen Garg has been the next greatest cultural icon of the state. If Bhupen Hazarika was the most dominant voice from the 60s till the early part of the twenty-first century, Zubin’s voice took off from the early 90s. Both their voices would continue to reverberate long after their deaths, as they would transcend the tangible contours of their lives, which essentially represented the anguish and angst, as well as the aspirations and longings, of the respective generations to which they belonged.
Dr. Bhupen Hazarika’s emergence coincided with the historical juncture when India earned its freedom and embarked on a journey marked by hopes and delusions. A product of the intellectual and ideological climate of the time, his music emphatically exhorted change, propagated the idioms of protest, and infused courage to assert disagreement. By the late 1990s, after about half a century of independence, India entered a new phase of its political and economic era. With this, the sense of public morality, dimensions of aspirations, and the sense of music too began to change. The 90s marked a new era for Assam’s contemporary history, too. It was an era of political settlement of sorts after the tumultuous phase of Assam agitation of the mid-80s, which came to an end with the Assam accord. This was the juncture when Zubeen Garg emerged, a fresh young voice that could render romanticism with youthful vigour in an earthy and mellifluous voice. The songs did not have apparent ideological shades, nor were they typical musical manifestos. They were sheer music, melody, and poetry. When his first music album, Anamika, was released in the 90s, he was barely in his 20s. The songs might not have had the erudite ideological sophistication, but his music was impetuous, scintillatingly melodic, and also radically romantic.
He had defined the contours of the popular culture of Assam in his own terms; he had defied all norms of the conventional playbook to invent his own codes, which can be described as the Zubeen era. Born in Tura in Meghalaya when his father was posted there as a state civil servant, he did his matriculation from a school in Tamulpur, and his higher secondary from Karimganj, a district in the Barak valley of Assam. His life journey, even in the early part of his life, was exposed to ethnic and cultural diversities that had shaped his formative mind. He joined B. Barooah College of Guwahati to pursue his BSc with the subject combination Physics, Chemistry, and Mathematics, indicating his fairly firm academic grounding. In one of his interviews, Zubeen revealed how his principal at college was somewhat worried about him when he did not complete his examinations and coolly came out of the examination hall, submitting his incomplete answer scripts. The principal asked him why he did so. How could he be so reckless? He replied that he, in fact, did not require the degree; someone else might need it. Asked what he would do in life without a formal degree, his answer was, ‘I will sing.’ When asked, ‘Will you be able to earn a livelihood with your singing alone? (which was almost an impossible prospect) Zubeen confidently answered, ‘Yes sir, I will.’ He kept his promise and soon became Assam’s highest-paid singer, who sang around thirty-eight thousand songs in forty languages, which is no minor feat. His songs also included numerous minor languages known for their folk songs.
From the early days of cassettes, when recording music became relatively easy, as it was no longer necessary to travel to Calcutta or Bombay, unlike the days of HMV and vinyl records, music became available on cassette tapes, and with that, the music scene turned quite vibrant. Soon, Zubeen stormed in, setting the stage on fire with his electrifying bravado and irreverent flamboyance; he looked surreal against psychedelic lights, high decibel sounds, loud strumming of instruments, mostly western, and his flawless voice, he often silhouetted on stage with studded western outfits flowing from his waist, fancy hats, and the guitar in his grip. He was a superstar performing live. He was a Rock Star of dreams right in front of millions of eyes, night after night, in the season of songs and music, especially during the month-long Rongali Bihu celebrations. He would hit the nooks and corners of Assam. He became almost synonymous with music, crafting lyrics that wove metaphors of freedom and melodies of free souls. No wonder, in a number of his songs, he draws on the image of a flying bird in the sky as his central image, pakhi pakhi ai mon, pakhi loga mor mon (My mind flies with its wings), sila sila moi dur akaxore/ uri uri phuro moi dawore pohore (I am flying kite of the distant sky/ I fly glide along the clouds and light) quite like the radical romantic Shelley’s images of the sky. Like his wild winds, Zubeen too danced for ages with the storm (dhumuhar xote mur bahu jugare nachon).
On stage, he broke rules, for he was not there to sing songs; he believed in performing them. He was the Elvis Presley of Assam, heralding a new age of music, which would eventually be named after him —the era of Zubeen. He was the only Rock Star of Assam in the true sense of the term, for he defied convention, deviated from the codes, and even threw challenges at unexpected quarters. He was a veritable bucking bronco on stage, an irreverent iconoclast. He knew his charisma; he was aware of his power as a singer, and he knew he was a legend. Else, how could one afford to come on stage beyond time habitually, and declare at times that one was too tired and needed sleep? And, he would literally sleep on stage, much to the dismay of the irate crowd who would be waiting for him for hours till early morning. Still, the concerned audience would let him sleep because they understood that their beloved singer truly needed rest and that he should care for his health as well, for he looked so exhausted. All this sounds mythic, like a fairy tale, but that was what Zubeen Garg was all about.
When social media platforms are loaded with images and videos of a twenty-five-kilometer-long human procession for the last journey of their beloved singer, there are also images of animals silently standing in front of the homage stands for Zubeen. He created a universe not only for human bonding but also a world of affection for all. Perhaps this was the core of his artistic ideology, which he often defined as ‘social leftism.’ His silent philanthropy, almost daily, for the needy, perhaps, was a part of his commitment to his ideology.
If one has to point out Zubeen’s most important contribution, one might as well point out how he has shown the world the power of music. Apparently, he was a regional singer who had dedicated his entire life to his state, despite achieving equal success on much larger platforms, such as Bollywood, with iconic songs like ‘Ya Ali’. He proved once again that music has the inbuilt power to transcend all boundaries. Even in death, his final act – he arrived in style and made us all feel how terrible it is to wake up in the morning and realize that life henceforth will be without Zubeen, because along with him a part of the soul of Assam too is gone.
(The author is Professor of English at North-Eastern Hill University, Shillong)
