The Daredevil Who Danced With The Storm
A lot of friends from the Indian mainland have been flabbergasted by the response of Assamese people to the death of Zubeen Garg. They are still trying to figure out the popularity of Zubeen Garg and the story of his life which was mostly unknown to the people outside the Northeast. ‘What exactly was Zubeen Garg?” So many of them are asking. Being an Assamese who grew up in the 1990s with his music playing everywhere in the surroundings, it is easy to understand the phenomenon called Zubeen Garg. But to describe it to the outsiders, I need to pause a little bit and look back.
The early part of the 1990s decade was a time of transition for Assam and the Assamese. From the very last part of the 1970s to mid 1980s, Assam saw turmoil like never before. The Assam Movement, rising out of the ashes of unresolved questions of demography and existence of the Assamese, met with brutal suppression and swelled up to become a cyclone that engulfed the entire region. While the tension between the Assamese and the ever increasing, votebank wise significant Bangaladeshi immigrants was swelling up, the frightening realty of a neighbouring state also had a very significant impact on the conflict. The sight of Tripura where the Tripuris had become demographically insignificant because of massive immigration from Bangladesh and had been reduced to minorities in their own land struggling to sustain their own ethnic identity and language had frightened the Assamese who had already felt the pressure of the same migration in Assam. The memories of the 37 year long period of Bengali language imposition in Assam by the British from 1936 to 1972, the decision taken by the national leaders of Indian independence to give away Assam to East Pakistan at the time of Independence etc. had fuelled this fear. But instead of addressing this fear the so called national mainstream of India choose to dismiss it as Assamese Chauvinism and xenophobia. This apathy for the plight of the Assamese was so intense and blind that journalists, bureaucrats and politicians from the mainland didn’t even hesitate to hide their bias. This bias was so unabashed that former IB Chief MK Dhar in his book Open Secrets; India’s Intelligence Unveiled, has repeatedly described the Assamese as ‘land hungry Assamese’ for resisting the encroachment of land by Bangladeshi migrants. This was the common narrative in mainland India while describing the conflict between the locals and migrants. Such unabashed diplay of bias and apathy resulted in hopelessness, resentment and restlessness in Assam. While Assam Movement saw oppression, unrest and violence, it was not an armed insurgency. But the period after Assam Movement was followed by the darkest era in Assam in the post Independence era. It was the armed insurgency period which further devastated the state in the early 90s. Along with other artists the music maestro and legendary cultural icon Bhupen Hazarika had been relentless in his pursuit of peace and was tirelessly trying to heal the wounds of humanity during these turbulent decades. In the early 1990s Bhupen Hazarika, in his sixties, shining as a towering lighthouse of wisdom, enlightenment and maturity was preaching a universal worldview of humanity to the strife-torn Assamese, while a 19 year old named Zubeen Garg stormed into the musical scene like a cyclone. Zubeen used to play instruments with other popular musicians of that time including Jitul Sonowal, who was probably the most popular of the young generation of singers in the last part of the 80s and early 90s. From accompanying Jitul Sonowal and others, Zubeen forayed into the world of singing with his refreshingly vibrant voice, youthful vigour and passion and love for the beauty of life. He became an overnight sensation with his debut album- Anamika. With his subsequent albums he disrupted the popular music industry in Assam completely and soon became the voice of the youth of the 90s.
The world has seen many masters of art. But some of them surpass their artistic genius with their connect with the people and the ability to turn their imperfect human life into an enigmatic phenomenon. Salvador Dali once said “Have no fear of perfection, you’ll never reach it,” I don’t know if Zubeen Garg read Dali’s quote but he definitely had no fear of perfection. Imperfections he had many. He could say anything, could do anything. He could be more unpredictable than unpredictability itself. But he was honest to himself. He had no mask on his face. Even those who criticized him for his words and actions did so because they cared.
Zubeen was a restless quantum of raw energy that was highly unpredictable. This raw source of energy churned out music like a volcano churning out molten lava. The same raw source of energy, on the destructive mode, could confront without mercy. He could brutally troll the organisers of functions from their own stage and would do it in such a way the people would applaud. Be it Congress or the BJP, he would criticise them all with the same gusto and would make a spectacle out of it. On one occasion he asked the anchor of a national TV channel during an interview, “Why did you never come to take my interview at the time of Assam floods?” He called himself a socialist and sometimes a communist. It can be a topic of debate whether he was truly a communist or a socialist, or people can find loopholes in his interpretation of philosophies. But no one can deny he said what he truly believed. He was unapologetically true to himself and said what came to his mind. The daredevil child who played with tiger cubs grew up to be a young man who was so daring that he never stopped being himself even for a minute in his life. He did not mince words, said whatever he wanted without giving two hoots about diplomacy. He did not think twice before saying what he thought was right. Those who did not agree with him also agreed that he was true to himself. His life was literally a ‘Dance with the storm’ (Dhumuhar xote mur bohu jugore Nasun) to quote the song that he wanted people to play at the time of his death.
But apart from his music and his brutal outspokenness, one thing that made Zubeen stand out was that his commitment to Assam and its people. At the very early stage of his career Zubeen made his mark in Bollywood playback singing. He gave a number of super hit songs to Bollywood. Yet the glamour of Bollywwod could not keep him away from the charm of his own land and his own people. “Mumbai has more attitude, and to get rid of that, I asked them to come here. I will die here like a king.” He had said. Only a man who can hug a tree in the middle of the night to feel at one with nature can sacrifice the glamour of Bollywood for his homeland. Here was a man who adopted 15 children, a man who would donate with an open heart, a man whose residence saw regular visitors seeking financial help for medical treatments or admissions, a man who thought it was his responsibility to stand for his land and his peoole everytime they needed him. Zubeen was not a perfect man but he understood what he stood for. He deeply understood the connect he had with his people. That is why he could say with confidence, “When I die, there will be bandh in Assam for seven days.”
Zubeen was never predictable in his music or his actions and words. Yes, he wanted an enigmatic and dramatic life and probably yearned for an enigmatic and dramatic death too. Indeed his life ended in an unfortunate but dramatic manner. He was a talented man who was as much intrigued by people as he was intrigued by philosophical ideas but was too restless and impatient to explore or probe them too deeply. Thus he got manipulated by the people he kept close to himself. The man who wanted to live a king size life as an enigma watched with amusement as his fans thought they understood everything he said. Yet he confused selfishness as friendship and got played by people who considered him a cash cow. It is for sure that we will not forget his music and his enigma but we should not forget his death either.
Rhiddhis Chakravorty
