Water for dinner, tears for comfort: Netizens bare their souls as Zubeen returns home in a coffin

Assam stood still as Zubeen Garg, the voice that once united every household, every celebration, and every heart, returned home in silence—inside a coffin draped with grief. But while the streets shut down, the internet burst open with raw emotions, memories, and cries of disbelief.

“Assam has lost its heartbeat today,” wrote Pronobesh Goon, echoing what millions felt. To him, Zubeen was not just a singer but the soul of Assam, a cultural ambassador who revived folk, modern songs, and carried Assamese identity to the world stage.

Rakib Abdur captured the pain in words: “Zubeen Da isn't just gone; a part of Assam's soul went with him. But his legacy will forever stay with us. His memory will stay etched in our hearts, and his songs will always hum in the air, skies, and souls of all Assamese.”

Some voices demanded answers. “We expect a solid investigation without any loops… Zubeen Garg is just not an ordinary person,” wrote Prattim Hazarrika, calling for transparency as the beloved singer’s sudden death stunned the state.

Others remembered how his music transcended borders. “Although I am from Assam, I never heard his Assamese songs, only ‘Ya Ali.’ But today I understand how big he was. His name is now immortal in the music industry of Assam and NE,” reflected Mutum Shyamkumar Mangang.

Also Read: Zubeen Garg’s mortal remains land in Guwahati, security tightened in Kahilipara

For many, his passing was more than a personal loss—it was a cultural wound. “His religion was humanity, his life was charity. His contributions to music are beyond measure. To countless hearts, he was no less than God,” wrote Mridul Sharma.

Some netizens highlighted the unity his death inspired, but also the unintended hardships. “If every shop & restaurant is closed, how will delivery agents serve food, how will poor sellers survive? Emotions must not be forced,” argued Suraj Pandey, acknowledging the economic pain felt during the unofficial shutdown.

From Arunachal, condolence messages flowed in. “His unparalleled contribution to music and culture has left an indelible legacy that will inspire generations to come,” wrote Geli Dai.

Even those outside Assam, like Rintu Dey, felt the depth of the bond. “His songs were not just music here—they were emotions, memories, and identity for an entire generation. He was not just a singer—he was family to Assam.”

And then there were those too broken for words, like Aru Chamuah: “I am alone, I just had water the whole day… can’t sleep, can’t eat… just waiting to see Zubeen Da arrive.”

For Assam, Zubeen was never just an artist. He was blood, breath, and belonging. As one netizen put it, “We breathe Zubeen Garg in the air. He was the bond between mother and child, between people and their culture. The world may remember him for ‘Ya Ali,’ but for Assam, he was much more—he was life itself.”

As Assam mourns, one truth resounds: Zubeen Garg may have left this world, but his songs will never leave Assam. Legends like him don’t die—they become eternal.