A Goodbye That Broke More Than Hearts:-
But Zubeen’s final farewell to Assam made it a reality. And what a heartbreaking, soul-shattering truth it was. Because after the death of Jubin, Assam did not bid farewell to just one singer. That day Assam lost its heartbeat, its identity and its son. The streets of Assam were crowded but there was no noise. Every face was sad. Every eye was downcast.
When Silence Spoke Louder Than Words:-
It was as if everyone had lost a member of their family. It was as if someone had cut that string of music. Which was connecting every person in Assam. And that’s why Zubin‘s last journey was not just a last journey. There was a revolution. A revolution that had no slogans. A revolution where there was no flag. There were just tears in people’s eyes. There was neither any platform nor any publicity. It was just a broken heart. Everyone came to Zubin’s last journey. But surprisingly, no one was asking anything to anyone. No one was looking at anyone’s caste. No one was paying attention to anyone’s language.
Beyond Caste, Religion, or Language — One Assam, One Zubeen:-
No one cared about anyone’s religion. There was no one big or small in Zuben’s last journey. Everyone present there in the crowd was saying that Zubeen was ours. And how big our word is is something to be understood in today’s times. This word has a great connection with religion. He has a deep connection with politics. The word our means our own. That which is part of us. And the pictures of Zubin’s funeral scream out loud that Zubin belonged to everyone.
Even the Chief Minister Was Just a Mourner:-
The Chief Minister of Assam arrived not like a leader nor like a person sitting on a chair, he arrived like a listener, like a fan, he picked up soil from the ground of the funeral pyre as if a father was doing the last rites for his son. Tears were also flowing from his eyes and those tears were not fake. He was a part of the pain that was scattered on the doorsteps of every house that day. And when these pictures came, the thought came to mind that have we ever seen any government being so humane? Being so small , being so humble, and because of this the land became very big. Assam was not the only one who cried after that farewell.
When a Government Became Human:-
People in the rest of the country also remained silent. When people saw the huge crowd that had gathered on TV screens and sometimes in newspapers for the last farewell of Zubeen, there was only one question in everyone’s mind that who was Zubeen who got so much love because there were many people outside Assam who knew Zubeen only by Ya Ali or Dil Tu Hi Bata and when that huge crowd was seen for Zubeen in Assam, then the question in their mind was why there is mourning on the doorstep of every house in Assam.
A Singer Who Shook the Entire Nation:-
Why has it happened that the death of a singer has become bigger than that of a leader, an actor, a hero, a great man? From Delhi to Mumbai, Chennai, Kolkata, people saw Jubin’s pictures in every city. People were surprised at how a sea of people had gathered for an artist. Most of the people outside Assam, especially in Hindi speaking states, were saying that they had heard the name of Jubin. We knew that he was from Assam. But Jubeen’s head was so big, someone asked how a singer could get so much affection? And then Assam itself gave the answer.
Zubeen Was Not a Star. He Was a Song They Lived By:-
Assam said that Jubin was not just a singer. He was Assam’s own. He was related to the people of Assam. Those were the tunes on which Assam lived its childhood. Zubin was the voice that made a child from a remote village realise that he was not alone. He was the soul who elevated music above language, religion and politics in Assam. The rest of the country then understood that Zubin was not just a name but a feeling for the people of Assam that was a part of every heart of Assam. There was a song for every festival. Every courtyard was echoing. And that is why perhaps Assam openly said that not a single artist has been lost. He has lost his. And this was the truth. It was not necessary to listen to Jubin’s songs to know him. To know Zubin, just looking at Assam’s moist eyes was enough. Because the measure of love is determined not by songs but by people’s tears. It is decided by the crowd at the funeral. And that crowd had come in thousands. But she was silent, she was what Zubin’s status was. It seemed as if time had stopped at Zubin’s funeral. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the body covered with white flowers. Everyone was saying in their mind that this is the person who hummed the first song of my life. There were many children in the crowd also.
A Mourning That Needed No Explanation:-
With posters in hand. Someone had written goodbye Zubin. Someone had written goodbye Zubin. Among these, there might have been many children who did not even know the meaning of death. But he had this feeling, this feeling of someone very big, someone who was loved by many. Someone who was a support to many is gone. There was also an old man in the crowd who, with a handkerchief in his trembling hands and tears in his eyes, was repeatedly muttering, O God, why did you call me so early? But then when the pyre was lit, not just smoke rose in the sky. In that smoke arose many songs which will never be heard in Jubin’s voice again. As if there was memory in every flame. There was a tune in every ash.
Zubeen Became Assam’s Pulse:-
But it seemed to him that even death had lost. And this feeling was because even death was realizing that how could a human being become so great that even death started looking dwarf in front of him. Then the pyre was extinguished but the eyes did not extinguish. The fire of tears continued to burn. And from that same ash, from that same tear, Zubin grew even bigger. Zubin is no longer just a singer. Zubin became the air in every breath. That name became part of every prayer. He became the heartbeat in every heart. His song is playing softly on the rickshaw puller’s radio.
Every Time His Song Plays, He Returns:-
His name is on the lips of his mother crying on the roadside. And today, some young man in Assam suddenly started crying while listening to his song on his phone. Zubin is not dead, Zubin is everywhere now. The legacy that he left behind in his voice. His music is no longer just history but the blood running in the veins of Assam. His memory is no longer a pain but the strength of the people of Assam. And what we said in the beginning is that one gets the city at the funeral. But Zubin did not just get fame.
Goodbye Zubeen, But You’re Not Gone:-
He attained immortality. He got the love which is bigger than any award. He got that respect. Which will probably never go away. And that is why whenever anyone or Ali will sing or this song will be heard somewhere, whenever people will dance to his songs in any fair or festival. When a lonely person will find his pain in his song, then Jubin will return every time, everywhere because now Jubin is not just a singer, he has become like breath, he has become a feeling and that is why today we will say goodbye Jube but you have not gone anywhere, you are always with us, on behalf of the entire people of Assam, our tribute to Jubin Garg.