Rubaiyat Ali
(rubaiyatali@gmail.com)
Two well-known Assamese personalities were being interviewed about Zubeen Garg on national media. One of them struggled to define the ‘Zubeen Phenomenon’ and went on to say that he himself was at a loss to elucidate why Zubeen is so loved by the people of Assam or why he is so popular in the State, indicating that while the phenomenon is real, it is somewhat abstract and difficult to explain. Had Zubeen been there, he would have surely retorted with his favourite and well-known expletive, ‘ghenta’. And it is high time that the significance of the term in the context of the ‘Zubeen Phenomenon’ is realized, appropriated and normalized.
Unlike its etymological meaning, there was nothing indecent in the colloquial way Zubeen used the word. What Zubeen meant by ‘ghenta’ in its stand-alone form was ‘I don’t care’ or ‘I don’t give a damn’ with added emphasis and unshakeable intent.
And that was exactly what he was — absolutely unapologetic for the things he stood for. He was a profound singer, a remarkable lyricist, composer, musician, writer, actor and director, no doubt, but above all he was a human being who cared for others, who did not discriminate on the basis of caste, creed or class, and who stood for all that he believed in fearlessly and without any vacillation. True creativity finds expression only through love and not through hatred. No wonder Zubeen’s creations never fail to strike a chord in everyone’s heart.
The whole of Zubeen is an open book. He loved his drink; he made no secret of it. He chewed tobacco; he said so openly and even provided on-stage displays of preparing the stuff on many occasions. His performances are replete with incidents where he playfully flirts with a female audience or co-singer right in front of everyone. On a more serious note, he declared himself a socialist and fought for social justice. He took the lead against the Citizen Amendment Act (CAA) and was not afraid to go against the government of the time. His famous dialogue – ‘I have no caste, I have no religion, I have no God, I am free’ – stands testimony to his philosophy of life. He was against any sort of discrimination. He even disagreed on imposing restrictions on the choice of language of the songs he sang; he publicly refused to perform whenever someone attempted to do so. He was a die-hard nature lover and did his bit for the conservation of nature. “They will cut trees over my dead body,” he had announced defiantly. He represented humanity at its best and was willing to empty his pockets to help the needy – the term ‘philanthropist’, however, sounds like a misnomer for him because he helped others so spontaneously. All these he did with the same ‘I don’t give a damn’ – ghenta – attitude. And he didn’t, because he did not do so to gain popularity, curry favour or create an image. He was simply just like that.
Zubeen had a wild side to his personality – again, the same ghenta syndrome. He was not the one to be straitjacketed by society; whatever he did, he did with passion. Like in the way he sang, and in his compositions and lyrics, he had his own individual style. He found Mumbai too dispassionate for his liking and came back to Assam when he was looking at a flourishing career in Bollywood. He wanted to be amongst his people and be the king of Assamese music. What is Assam known for?, he asked an interviewer and gave the answer himself – its tea, its rhinos and Zubeen. Sounds arrogant? He wasn’t. He was simply stating facts that were proven true by the massive gathering which came to pay their tributes to the legend at his funeral and the large numbers who still continue to flock to his memorial.
He had his own personal tragedies – he lost his mother and his loving younger sister. Yet he remained undaunted and went on to indulge in almost all aspects of the world of music and culture. He was extremely well read and remained rooted to his origins. He was outspoken, flamboyant and fiery, a maverick, but not superficial. Teenage photographs with his wife, Garima, speak of a caring man true to his love to the end. In the fast-moving world of cinema and music, fame did not get to his head; he remained humble and grounded. That was the strength of Zubeen.
That brings us to the moot question of why Zubeen is so loved and popular in Assam, especially amongst the youth. Simply, it is because every youth aspires to be something like Zubeen. They can identify with Zubeen because, like him, they are also intrinsically fun-loving, broadminded, and secular; a little wayward maybe; some of them may even like to experiment a little with alcohol or tobacco in their youth; and the rebel in them may want to question both society and the authorities on their doubts and misgivings. Nevertheless, they sense the contribution that Zubeen has made to music, cinema and socio-political life in Assam. They would love to live an unbounded but strong and valuable life like Zubeen did. So he becomes their role model. Ghenta about what the world may have to say.
The footnote is that Zubeen was a highly talented and hard-working individual. He could afford to have his repertoire of choice invectives, including the choicest of all – ghenta. Lesser mortals may not. But whenever someone writes or speaks of Zubeen, there should be no beating about the bush, no diplomatic manoeuvres, for the best tribute to Zubeen can only be like he was – to the point, outspoken, undaunted, truthful and fearless. Ghenta, in fact, symbolizes the fearless rebel in Zubeen and the absolute honesty with which he did everything.