Why Bohag will never be the same again without Zubeen Garg

This is April, the month of Rangali Bihu, when nature blooms in Assam. Most parts of Assam, especially the villages, are now bustling with the sound of the dhol. You can listen to the rhythms, the khiti ghena sound of the dhol, almost at every time of the day.
 

Last night, my mom called me and said, “Come home, kopou phul (Foxtail Orchid) has bloomed, togor phul (Jasmine) has also bloomed, and I have kept the jetuka for you.” These are the core things of Bihu for a girl. Each nasoni or bihuwoti (a girl who performs Bihu) wears these in Assam. Though I am not one of them now, my eyes still glitter when I see them or hear the names.
 

During childhood, my cousin and I used to perform at the Moina Parijaat Bihu function in Mangaldai, and also in my village, Namkhala. My mother, along with the other women in the village, still performs Jeng Bihu (an ancient traditional Assamese dance form performed by women, often at night under the moon, in open areas). Though nowadays mukoli Bihu (Bihu under the open sky) is rare, some places still continue this legacy.
 

When we were driving to Sivasagar a few days back to cover elections, one of Zubeen Da’s songs was playing on the radio, and it felt like he went too soon. Our driver said, “Whenever I sleep at night, I keep my phone near my pillow and listen to his songs. Whenever I am alone, his voice becomes my companion. I have cried and smiled at the same time listening to his voice.”
 

There we saw Rang Ghar, built in 1746 during the Ahom dynasty as a royal pavilion for sports and entertainment, considered one of the oldest surviving amphitheatres in Asia, a place where Bihu celebrations take place in the courtyard.
 

And Rangharor Bakorit Bihu simply means Bihu performed by many women, from the age of 4–5 to all ages together.
 

And what is compulsory in all of this is Zubeen Garg’s voice. His voice connects with every Assamese. He has sung all kinds of songs in most of the languages of Assam. Assam is a highly multilingual state, with over 55 different languages and dialects spoken by its diverse communities—including Bodo, Karbi, Mising, Rabha, Tiwa, and many more.
 

This Bihu, many groups have cancelled their functions to honour him, and many are celebrating “Bapoti Xahun Bihu” (meaning “ancestral treasure”), referring to the beloved Rongali or Bohag Bihu festival, to remember him. One thing everyone agrees on is that Bihu is incomplete without his voice. He remains constant in every home, every heart.
 

Many have put up statuses saying this Bohag is nithor—still, stagnant.
 

And tomorrow is Goru Bihu, the first day of the seven-day Rongali Bihu, when cows are prayed to. The cattle are smeared with a paste of black gram and turmeric, and lightly struck with twigs of dighalati and makhioti plants to protect them from insects and diseases.
 

Zubeen Da had songs for every season, every feeling, every occasion. And though he is not here, he remains in our hearts, in all our emotions. As he says, “oi naahor, oi naahor, anili toi bohagore khobor…”
 

And maybe that is why this Bohag feels quieter, because a voice that once carried the spirit of Assam now lives only in echoes, yet refuses to fade.