Zubeen Garg was no one-hit wonder. He lent his versatile voice to over 40 languages, from Kannada to Mising, starring in Assamese blockbusters like Mission China and Kothanodi.
In a development that has deepened the grief enveloping Assam, Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma announced on Saturday that the state’s Criminal Investigation Department (CID) has been tasked with probing the mysterious circumstances surrounding the sudden death of beloved singer Zubeen Garg in Singapore. The 52-year-old icon, whose soul-stirring voice in hits like “Ya Ali” from the Bollywood film Gangster captivated millions, passed away on Friday afternoon following what initial reports described as a freak scuba diving accident off a yacht. With multiple FIRs already filed against key figures linked to the event, the investigation promises to uncover layers of intrigue in what many fear was more than a mere mishap.
The autopsy, conducted swiftly by Singaporean authorities at the Singapore General Hospital, was completed late Friday, confirming the time of death as 2:50 p.m. IST. The body, embalmed as per protocol, was handed over to members of Garg’s entourage in the presence of Indian embassy officials. It is scheduled to arrive in New Delhi late Saturday before being transported via chartered flight to Guwahati early Sunday. From there, the mortal remains will first rest at Garg’s residence in the Kahilipara area, allowing his father, wife Garima Saikia Garg, and close family to pay their respects in private. Later, it will be placed at the Sarusajai Stadium for the public to bid a final farewell, with the state government declaring a holiday on the day of the cremation—details to be finalized in consultation with the family and cultural organizations.
Assam is observing a three-day mourning period from September 20 to 22, during which all official entertainment programs, ceremonial functions, and government-hosted dinners stand canceled. Tributes have flooded in from across India and beyond, with Prime Minister Narendra Modi expressing shock on X (formerly Twitter): “Shocked by the sudden demise of popular singer Zubeen Garg. He will be remembered for his rich contribution to music. His renditions were very popular among people across all walks of life. Condolences to his family and admirers. Om Shanti.” Congress leader Rahul Gandhi mourned, “His voice defined a generation, and his talent was truly unmatched.” Union Home Minister Amit Shah echoed, noting the “void that will never be filled.”
But beneath the sorrow lies a cloud of suspicion. CM Sarma, addressing a press conference flanked by somber aides, revealed that multiple FIRs have been lodged against Shyam Kanu Mahanta, the chief organizer of the Northeast Festival, and Siddhartha Sharma, Garg’s long-time manager. “I have directed the DGP to hand over all cases to the CID for a consolidated investigation,” Sarma stated firmly, his voice laced with resolve. “Zubeen Garg’s death is not just a loss to Assam; it’s a tragedy that demands answers. We will leave no stone unturned.”
The probe’s urgency stems from emerging details of Garg’s final hours. Garg, born Zubeen Borthakur on November 18, 1972, in Tura, Meghalaya, had arrived in Singapore on Wednesday for the Northeast Festival, slated for September 19-21. As the event’s star performer, he was set to open the music segment on Saturday, a gig that promised to showcase Assamese culture to the global diaspora. Instead, on Friday morning, he joined a group of 18—comprising 11 local Assamese expatriates, four team members, and two crew—for a leisurely yacht outing in the shimmering waters off Sentosa Island.
Eyewitness accounts, corroborated by a viral video circulating on social media, paint a harrowing picture. Garg, ever the free spirit, initially donned a life jacket as advised by the lifeguards. The footage shows him laughing, his trademark charisma lighting up the deck as he joked with companions about the “oversized” vest cramping his style. “It’s too bulky, da! How can I swim like a fish in this?” he quipped, before impulsively shrugging it off and diving into the azure sea. Warnings from the crew fell on deaf ears; Garg, known for his adventurous streak, waved them off with a grin.
Moments later, disaster struck. Garg complained of sudden breathlessness, his face contorting in distress as he struggled against the waves. Fellow swimmers, including Abhimanyu Talukdar who had booked the yacht, pulled him from the water, administering CPR on the deck. An emergency call summoned paramedics, who airlifted him to Singapore General Hospital. Despite frantic efforts, doctors pronounced him dead at 2:50 p.m., the autopsy later attributing the cause to drowning compounded by a possible seizure—though toxicology results are pending.
Whispers of foul play began almost immediately. Why was a high-profile artist like Garg allowed on an impromptu yacht trip without stringent safety protocols? Sources close to the investigation hint at lapses in oversight by the organizers. Shyam Kanu Mahanta, the festival’s architect, has been accused in one FIR of negligence in event logistics, including the unvetted excursion. Siddhartha Sharma, Garg’s manager of over a decade, faces scrutiny for allegedly approving the outing despite Garg’s recent complaints of fatigue from jet lag and a hectic rehearsal schedule. “Siddhartha knew Zubeen da wasn’t at his peak,” a team insider confided anonymously. “He’d been pushing for rest, but the pressure to promote the festival was immense.”
As the CID gears up, led by a crack team of forensic experts and interrogators, the focus sharpens on the yacht’s manifest and the 16 other participants. The Indian High Commissioner in Singapore, Shilpak Ambule, has forwarded a detailed list to Guwahati, including Talukdar’s booking records. Questions swirl: Was the life jacket tampered with? Did Garg’s breathlessness stem from an underlying condition overlooked by his handlers? Or was it something more sinister—perhaps a targeted sabotage amid festival rivalries?
Zubeen Garg’s Rise to Fame
To understand the magnitude of this loss, one must delve into Zubeen Garg’s extraordinary life—a tapestry woven with melody, activism, and unyielding love for his roots. Raised in Jorhat, Assam, after his family’s move from Meghalaya, young Zubeen discovered music in the misty Brahmaputra valleys. His father, a schoolteacher, nurtured his talent with harmonium lessons, while his mother instilled the folk rhythms of Bihu and Bhawaiya. By his teens, he was a local sensation, blending Assamese folk with rock and Bollywood flair. Adopting the stage name “Zubeen Garg” in the 1990s—replacing his surname with his gotra—he exploded onto the scene with albums like Nirontor (1998), which sold over a million copies.
National fame came in 2006 with “Ya Ali,” a Sufi-rock anthem from Gangster that topped charts and earned him a Filmfare nomination. But Garg was no one-hit wonder. He lent his versatile voice to over 40 languages, from Kannada to Mising, starring in Assamese blockbusters like Mission China and Kothanodi. Beyond the spotlight, he was a crusader: advocating for the Assam Accord, protesting the Citizenship Amendment Act, and championing flood victims through his Zubeen Garg Foundation. In 2024, the University of Science and Technology, Meghalaya, bestowed upon him an honorary Doctor of Literature, recognizing his role as Assam’s cultural ambassador.
Garg’s personal life mirrored his passion. Married to Garima Saikia, a fellow artist, since 2008, their union was a quiet harbor amid his stormy career. Photos emerging post-death show Garima inconsolable, clutching a framed picture of Zubeen from their wedding, her eyes swollen with tears that no song could soothe. “He was my everything—my composer, my confidant,” she whispered to reporters outside their home, where fans gathered in silent vigil, lighting candles and humming “O Mur Apunar Desh.”
Back in Guwahati, the city that adored him pulses with raw emotion. Outside his Kahilipara residence, a sea of admirers—students, homemakers, celebrities—has swelled since Friday evening. Tearful renditions of his classics echo through the night: “Jaanmon Pakhi,” a poignant farewell to lost love; “Aai,” a heartfelt ode to motherhood that now aches with irony. AASU leaders, who once marched alongside him for tribal rights, unveiled a impromptu memorial—a garlanded poster of Garg mid-performance, his eyes twinkling with that irrepressible spark.
CM Sarma’s visit to the family Friday night was a poignant tableau. Accompanied by his wife Riniki Bhuyan Sarma, he knelt before Garg’s father, promising justice. “Zubeen was Assam’s heartbeat,” Sarma said, his voice breaking. “His music energized us, spoke to our souls. Today, that heartbeat has stilled, but his legacy will resonate forever.” Ripu Bora, former Rajya Sabha MP, added on X: “Deeply shocked… Zubeen was our cultural icon, a selfless voice for humanity.”
As the CID delves deeper, forensic teams pore over yacht footage and witness statements. Singapore police, cooperating fully, have sealed the vessel for evidence. Early leads point to no overt criminality, but the removal of the life jacket—against explicit warnings—raises red flags about negligence or coercion. Was Sharma, under festival pressure from Mahanta, downplaying risks? Or did expatriate politics play a role in the outing’s planning?