When an Entire Sky Falls Silent: Understanding Assam’s Collective Grief for Zubeen Da
- Shashwata Nova
- Oct 29
- 5 min read
Photo Credit: RITURAJ KONWAR
There are moments in history when the loss of one soul feels like the earth itself has stopped breathing. For Assam, that moment came with just four words – “Zubeen Da is no more.”
It wasn’t silence that followed, it was a storm of grief. The world itself seemed to collapse into tears. Hearts broke open, voices trembled, and from every home and street rose the same cry, Mayabini. The song he loved, the one he said Assam should sing when he leaves, now echoes everywhere, through sobs, through sleepless nights, through the unbearable ache of knowing he is gone.
The rhythm of an entire land, its laughter, its music, its dreams, has been shattered. The world feels colourless, yet filled with the haunting melody of love refusing to let go.
Zubeen Garg was never just an artist, he was the pulse of people. He gave everything he had: his music, his earnings, his home, his time, his boundless heart, all to Assam. He quietly paid hospital bills, sponsored children’s studies, opened his studios to nurture local talent, and during the pandemic, turned his own home into a medical centre for those in need. He became family to every Assamese home, a son, a brother, a friend. He poured his soul into films to revive a fading cinema industry, stood beside flood victims, artists, and the forgotten. His generosity was not performance; it was instinct. He carried Assam on his shoulders and called it his responsibility, and he carried them with pride.
Now, the very voice that once carried us through pain has become a haunting echo. As one note, written through tears that refused to stop says:
“Your songs used to bring peace… a little comfort, a little solace. But now they just make the wound bleed deeper. Since you left, we haven’t had one night of peaceful sleep. There’s this strange emptiness everywhere, even our dreams feel sad and colourless.”
It captures the mood of millions.
This is collective grief. A sorrow so vast that it becomes a living presence among millions.
What is Collective Grief?
Collective grief occurs when an entire community, society, or nation experiences loss together. It is not limited to family or friends; it extends to everyone whose lives were touched, directly or indirectly, by the one who has passed.
In Assam, Zubeen Da was more than a singer. He was the soundscape of a generation, the cultural bridge between hope and despair, the living emblem of Assamese identity. Losing him feels like losing a father, a brother, a friend, and a piece of the soul all at once.
Psychologically, such grief is magnified because it blurs the boundary between personal and collective identity. Each person feels as though a part of themselves has died, and that shared mourning becomes the emotional climate of an entire land.
How Collective Grief Can Evolve into Collective Trauma or PTSD
Psychology says: when a grief of this magnitude is prolonged, unresolved, or compounded by injustice or unanswered questions, it risks turning into collective trauma. A psychological scar carried across generations.
PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) typically arises from experiences that shatter one’s sense of safety and continuity. When the emotional anchor of a people, their guiding light, disappears suddenly, the psyche can experience this as a traumatic rupture.
Assam’s collective symptoms already echo this, sleeplessness, loss of appetite, confusion, emotional numbness, helplessness, flashbacks of his songs, anxiety, and despair. Many are unable to engage in daily life. This is not weakness; it is trauma. The mind is struggling to reconcile a reality it cannot accept.
1. Potential Symptoms
Collective grief and trauma may manifest through:
Emotional Symptoms: Numbness, uncontrollable crying, anger, denial, hopelessness, guilt (“we couldn’t protect him”), and feeling detached from life.
Physical Symptoms: Fatigue, insomnia, loss of appetite, body aches, palpitations, headaches, or weakened immunity.
Behavioural Symptoms: Withdrawal from social life, loss of motivation, decreased work or academic performance, compulsive revisiting of memories (songs, interviews), or, in severe cases, self-harm.
Cognitive Symptoms: Difficulty concentrating, intrusive thoughts, disbelief, nightmares, memory lapses, or obsessive need for answers.
2. Physical and Mental Impacts
When millions share these experiences, the emotional weight can affect an entire region’s health profile, rising rates of depression, anxiety, and psychosomatic illnesses. The body keeps the score; when the heart breaks, the immune system weakens. Sleep cycles collapse. Minds become fogged with sorrow.
Communities in collective grief may also face what psychologists call “social withdrawal syndrome”, reduced engagement with the outside world, cultural stagnation, or even collective burnout.
3. Effects on Community and Development
Collective grief can either fracture or forge a community. It can make people retreat into silence and chaos, or inspire unity, empathy, and creative renewal.
Assam now stands at this delicate threshold. This is a time so fragile that the entire spirit of the land could be built or burnt to the ground.
Unchecked despair can erode social trust, paralyse progress, and intensify political or emotional divides. But shared compassion, remembrance, and justice can transform grief into a force of healing, the way Zubeen Da himself always did: through art, love, and solidarity.
4. How to Process and Help Each Other
Speak and listen. Allow people to talk, cry, and remember. Suppressed grief becomes poison.
Gather safely. Candlelight vigils, community prayers, or musical tributes help externalise pain and reaffirm belonging.
Seek professional help. Trauma counselling, especially community-based, is vital. Therapy is not weakness, it is collective medicine.
Create living memorials. Support art, education, or relief work in his name. Transform grief into legacy.
Rest. Eat. Breathe. Even grief needs strength to sustain itself. Take care of the body that carries the sorrow.
5. Do Not Force Healing
Healing cannot be rushed or imposed. If someone cannot sing his songs yet, let them stay silent. If they cannot sleep, let them rest in stillness. If they cannot smile, let them grieve.
Each person’s rhythm of mourning is sacred. Compassion must replace pressure.
6. A Time of Fragility and Rebirth
This is indeed a liminal time. A threshold between collapse and rebirth. Grief of this magnitude cracks open both darkness and light.
In this raw silence, Assam can choose to hold each other closer, to build a community that honours Zubeen Da not by despair, but by continuing his spirit of generosity, music, and love.
Every tear that falls for him waters the soil he nurtured. Every song sung in his memory is a heartbeat of the collective soul, reminding us that while the man may be gone, the melody remains.
Assam’s grief today is the sound of love echoing through emptiness. And though the silence feels eternal now, one day – softly, gently – his music will return as strength, not sorrow.
Because love that vast does not end. It transforms.




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