We are, without question, passengers on a vessel steered by “forces” we cannot foresee. When the news came that Zubeen Garg had left this world, it felt as if the sky over Assam, nay the entire Northeast, had lost its light. The man who sang in forty languages, who gave us more than thirty-eight thousand songs, who could play a dozen instruments, was suddenly gone. No warning, no encore!
The crowd that gathered to say goodbye was unprecedented, believed to be the fourth-largest public funeral gathering in the world. Of course, it was a tide of grief, a roar of emotion, a chorus of hearts once lifted by Zubeen’s musical talent. It was living proof that one’s true wealth lies not in possessions but in the love it inspires. The prompt initiative taken by Assam Chief Minister Shri Himanta Biswa Sarma to bring Zubeen Garg home from Singapore, along with the dignified state funeral arrangements, deserves profound appreciation.
Well, Zubeen was in Singapore, not for leisurely fun, but for a purpose — a very momentous event, representing the Northeast as Cultural Brand Ambassador. It was a mission filled with pride, joy and festivity, and with great expectation. Yet fate interrupted. The sea of “uncertainty” claimed him with a cruel jolt. Yes, life never asks before it snatches a breath. It moves by its own rhythm, its own principles untouched by our narrow plans and ambitions! Didn’t Meghalayans bid farewell to its beloved D.D. Lapang, the former Chief Minister of Meghalaya, just about a fortnight ago? How can we forget Meghalaya’s most famous musical heartthrob, Neil Nongkynrih? He departed far too soon, leaving behind a fabulous legacy that still echoes and inspires.
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What an irony indeed and it’s almost laughable that we often live in this world as if we’re “immortal.” We plan, we hoard, we argue over petty issues with the air of arrogance. But the great truth is, we all came here with a “return ticket.” No one knows when it’s due. It could be today, it could be tomorrow, or a hundred years — though that’s too rare. Yet we behave as if it’s all in our control. Even the food we painstakingly prepare to enjoy with our tiny two-inch taste buds slips beyond our control the moment we swallow it. Just think for a moment: what if the liver forgets to secrete its enzymes, or the heart misses a beat? Some enigmatic forces are at work that we rarely pause to contemplate. We breathe, we digest; our heart pumps tirelessly to circulate blood, our kidneys filter toxins, our neurons fire in perfect synchrony—all without our command, all without our conscious awareness. This inner machinery runs so perfectly, but who really controls these phenomena? Who is that enigmatic power that holds the “unseen remote” and can “summon” us back without warning? Sorry for this digression.
To my eyes, Zubeen’s last journey was more than a farewell. It was a reminder, a solemn, musical whisper. A lesson delivered directly from existence itself that no one can negate death. Despite his fame, his genius, his wealth, he left empty-handed, as all must. At the end of the day, what truly endures is not what we accumulate, but what we radiate, the love we sow, the joy and compassion we scatter, and the legacy we leave behind.
Hence, if we understood this “impermanence of our existence”, would we still cling to envy, anger, arrogance, greed, or the hollow pride of our talents or academic qualifications? Or would we learn to choose kindness over ego, forgiveness over pride? Would we not pause and ask, what are we really fighting for when all battles end on the same shore?
So let us not mourn him with emotion today only to forget him tomorrow. Let us show respect to him, and also to all our beloved ones who have left us, by choosing to live better. By remembering that life is a gifted breath from some uncanny power, we can offer each moment as a humble tribute to the eternal rhythm that moves us all. Let us make a sincere effort to correct our course while the compass of conscience still responds to the song of eternity.
(NS)
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