The selfie spot of sorrow: What we’re turning Zubeen Garg’s funeral site into

As witnessed by my colleagues and felt in the air around the funeral site of late Zubeen Garg, something has changed — something unsettling. 

It’s been more than twenty days since his passing, yet the place that once echoed with songs of love and rebellion has turned into a strange mix of devotion, spectacle, and social media theatre.

People gather there every hour. For some, it’s a pilgrimage — a moment to stand before the portrait of the man whose music defined their youth. 

But for many others, it feels more like a casual outing. Couples pose for selfies, families bring children as if visiting a park, and vendors line up selling ice cream and snacks. The place that should still hold the quiet ache of loss has started to look like a fairground.

Also Read: How Jakhalabandha fell in love with Zubeen before the world caught on

My colleagues and I have watched this quietly, trying to make sense of the emotions that hover in the crowd. There are a few who come with flowers, whispering prayers, their eyes heavy with genuine grief. 

Yet even among them, there’s an odd hesitation — a glance over the shoulder, a subtle awareness of cameras, a concern about whether their tears are being noticed, recorded, validated.

It’s as if mourning itself has become performative. In a world where every emotion seeks an audience, even grief is not spared from the need to be seen. Zubeen’s memory deserves better — a silence that hums with respect, not the chatter of phone cameras. The soul that once united Assam through melody now watches over a space divided between reverence and recreation.

What should have been a place of remembrance has, somehow, become a backdrop for moments we wish to post rather than moments we truly feel. And standing there, amid the laughter and the lenses, one can’t help but wonder — have we forgotten how to grieve without an audience?