Utpal Datta reflects on Assamese culture after Zubeen Garg, tracing legacy, rupture, and renewal across music, cinema, and stage, asking not who replaces him, but how creativity reorganises itself.

After the passing of Assamese cultural icon Zubeen Garg, the question of “what after Zubeen” reshapes debates on Assamese music, cinema, performance, and popular culture. Utpal Datta examines how legacy, influence, and cultural continuity evolve beyond singular genius, marking transition rather than decline.

In contemporary Assamese culture—especially in songwriting, composition, performance, acting, film direction, and production—Zubeen Garg was not merely a creator or performer; he was a social and cultural phenomenon. On the one hand, he possessed an extraordinary ability to mesmerise his listeners and viewers; on the other hand, his controversial statements and behaviour often provoked public anger. People reacted strongly to this second persona—sometimes enjoying it, sometimes rejecting it—but the first persona remained deeply loved and emotionally close to the people. The social atmosphere in the period following his passing itself bears testimony to this fact. Therefore, the phrase “after Zubeen” does not refer merely to a chronological phase; it also signals the arrival of a new cultural condition.

Zubeen’s work and example in music, cinema, and theatre have influenced not only audiences but also his contemporaries and successive generations of creators and performers.

Cinema, Scale, and the Producer’s Intervention

In cinema, the big-budget Assamese films initiated by Zubeen Garg marked a significant shift. By challenging the long-held perception of Assamese cinema as a “low-budget art form,” he demonstrated—through improved technology, large-scale publicity, and greater investment—that Assamese films could be produced on a much larger scale. Many of these films earned well in proportion to their investment, encouraging other producers to venture into big-budget projects.

Some films succeeded at the box office, some failed—but these partial failures did not stall the trend. Even today, several producers continue to work within this framework, and it is reasonable to assume this tendency will persist. In short, the production model initiated by Zubeen is likely to continue, and the absence of “producer Zubeen” will gradually be addressed. Similarly, the level of competence he demonstrated as a director is not unattainable; Assam has directors capable of demonstrating comparable skill.

However, Zubeen’s absence will be felt repeatedly whenever the need arises to replace Zubeen Garg, “the singer.” Zubeen was unique; seeking a substitute for him would be inappropriate. The emotional range in his voice, the fragrance of folk music, the echoes of world music, and the depth of personal feeling he brings together are at a level few singers can easily achieve in their songs. In that sense, Zubeen has no alternative. Yet culture can never remain static—the show must go on. Even at the height of his popularity, several singers managed to create ripples with individual songs. Though popular, they could never become Zubeen’s replacements.

One Voice: Lyricist, Composer, Performer

One of Zubeen’s defining qualities was that he wrote lyrics, composed music, and sang his own songs. Artists who possess equal mastery over all three components of song creation inevitably stand apart.

When Zubeen wrote, composed, and sang a song himself, it was not merely a musical product—it became a direct expression of his inner world. Because words, melody, and voice emerged from the same source, these songs carried a natural intimacy and raw honesty rarely found in carefully planned collaborative works. In his music, lyrics and tune were born together; aware of his vocal strengths and limitations, his compositions were emotional rather than showy. As a result, moments of incompleteness, pauses, or restlessness in some songs became integral to their emotional texture.

Instead of following conventional structures, he relied on his own sense of time, culture, and lived experience. This is why Zubeen Garg’s songs remain distinct, and why the absence of “musician Zubeen” can never truly be filled. Perhaps another rare talent will emerge and shine in their own way, but the question of filling a void will not arise.

Continuity Without Substitution

At the same time, the functional uses of Zubeen’s voice—such as playback singing for films and professional touring theatre—will not come to a halt. Assam has several singers, both contemporaries and younger artists, who have built their own audiences and can easily be chosen for such work. Some may even look beyond Assam for singers. Practical needs will always find solutions. But it would be entirely inappropriate to describe this as “filling Zubeen’s place.” Already, a few younger singers are stepping forward—not to replace Zubeen, but to engage with and extend the musical space he created. This is a natural process of cultural inheritance.

Stage, Audience, and Changing Sensibilities

In the realm of stage performance, a clear shift in audience taste is also visible. While Zubeen’s stage persona was iconic, today’s audiences are ready to embrace new visual languages and more energetically structured performances. This openness reflects the living, evolving nature of Assamese culture itself.

As a music director for stage and screen, Zubeen Garg provided opportunities for many artists to work together. In this regard, the role of his close collaborators is especially important. Those who worked closely with him may be able to fill specific gaps in his musical thinking partially. Creative talent can never be transferred exactly, but through practice and experience, a continuity of cultural flow can indeed be maintained.

After Zubeen: Reorganisation, Not Absence

Overall, “post-Zubeen” Assamese culture does not signify decline or an ending; it marks a period of reorganisation. He introduced boldness into cinema, set a deep benchmark in music, reshaped audience taste on stage, and helped build a vibrant creative environment.

Even after the departure of a towering personality, culture never comes to a standstill. Instead, within the very space created by such a figure, new voices, new forms, and new possibilities begin to emerge.

Photos: Utpal Datta