Not every melody fades; some linger on, keeping us suspended between nostalgia and longing.

September 2025 in Guwahati turned into a sea of candles and crumpled tissues. Assam, India, Bollywood everyone knew it: the voice behind “Ya Ali” was gone. Cardiac arrest? No. He drowned off Lazarus Island in Singapore, the unlikeliest twist of fate. Folks stumbled about - some cried, some just hummed. It's wild how music grabs at grief and refuses to let go; Zubeen's death landed like a nosy neighbor, erratic and heartbreaking.

Zubeen Garg in Gangster singing ‘Ya Ali’

(Credit:(@bollywood/Instagram))

Do you recall “Gangster”? Pritam's music, yes, but it’s Zubeen's voice that burned the memory into living room walls. That high-pitched “Ya Ali” - not quite Sufi, nor Bollywood ballad, something else entirely - won him Best Playback at the GIFA awards back in 2006. For a while, you couldn’t hop into a cab or crash a college party without hearing it: raw, haunting, a little over-the-top. And then he didn’t stop. Hindi chartbusters like “Jaane Kya Chahe Mann,” “Dil Tu Hi Bataa” (Krrish 3), even oddball bangers like “Jag Lal Lal Lal” - his voice everywhere, slicing through static with a wink and a nudge.

Zubeen performing Dil Tu Hi Bataa from Krrish 3

(Credit:(@zubeen.garg.live/Instagram)

Never Just Another Playback Voice

What’s peculiar? Garg wasn’t just assembling hits. There was a fire - a scrappy, sometimes unpolished hum beneath the surface. Born in Tura, Meghalaya, grew up in Assam, shaped by his mom’s songs and family arguments. He started as Jibon Borthakur, but Zubeen’s what stuck. If you’d visited his studio, you’d find a tangle of mismatched shoes, Assamese scarves tossed on guitars, and not a spreadsheet in sight.

The legend, Zubeen Garg

(Credit:(@_rishiraj_baruah_/Instagram)

He sang in 40 languages including Assamese, Bengali, Hindi, Bodo, English. At his best, he stitched together ethnic folk with Bollywood drama, sometimes with both in the same verse. There’s no perfect way to describe it, and sometimes, honestly, lyrics got heavy-handed. But it worked.

Bollywood's Reluctant Maverick

Zubeen Garg in Mission China

“Hit Machine,” some magazine called him in 2013. Fitting? Maybe. He churned out more than 200 Hindi songs - by one count. Yet, Bollywood never fully embraced him. Zubeen kept drifting back to Guwahati, fronting Assamese blockbusters like “Mission China” (which, fun fact, crossed ₹6 crore at the box office), or “Kanchanjangha” - first Assamese film over ₹7 crore gross. Think about that. Regional and mainstream, side-by-side. He's the bridge nobody else could engineer, not in this lifetime.

Zubeen Garg (top left) in Dr. Bezbarua 2

He directed, produced, composed, even acted - though, well, not every film landed. There was “Dr. Bezbarua 2,” “Sikaar,” a few more; but music outshone them all. Ask any fan about “Maya, Ubhoti Suwa” or “Mugdho Hiya Mur,” and you’ll see eyes go misty. Zubeen Da, they say, made living in Assam feel less lonely.

Oddball Eccentricities - and One Last Song

Eccentric? He wore shoes that never matched, deliberately. Sometimes it was sneakers and sandals. Asked about it, Zubeen grinned: “I won’t walk in anyone else’s footsteps.” Classic defiance. He broadcast comfort, playfulness, self-expression - all bundled into one slightly rebel package. You don’t see that much anymore. Maybe we should.

His ashes rest in Jorhat now - public venue, fans filtering in, some quiet, some loud. Assam has a memorial coming, and Bollywood... well, it’s still rifling through his discography, looking for unpublished demos. What’s left? More questions. More need. Garg’s music didn’t say goodbye; it just went silent for a second.

Wishing a very Happy Birthday to you, Zubeen Da. Forever in our hearts!