The sudden death of iconic Assamese singer Zubeen Garg in Singapore on September 19 has left not only his family but also millions of admirers across the Northeast and beyond grappling with grief, shock, and unanswered questions. Weeks after his passing, the Assam Police CID’s Special Investigating Team (SIT) is pressing forward with its probe, even as emotions run high and calls for justice grow louder. This tragedy has now evolved into more than a personal loss—it has become a test of transparency, accountability, and responsibility, both for the individuals who accompanied him and for the state institutions tasked with uncovering the truth.
Assam Director General of Police Harmeet Singh has assured that the SIT, led by Special DGP M. P. Gupta, will soon reach its “final conclusion.” A 10-member team is working on all angles, including the critical invocation of the Mutual Legal Assistance Treaty (MLAT) with Singapore to ensure cooperation from authorities there. Lookout notices have already been issued against Shyamkanu Mahanta, organiser of the Northeast India Festival, and Siddharth Sharma, Zubeen’s manager, both of whom were closely tied to the events surrounding the singer’s last moments. More than 60 FIRs have been filed, including one by Garg’s own family, signalling just how deeply this case has resonated with the public. The police insist that the case must proceed through legal channels to avoid weakening it in court, but patience is wearing thin among those who fear that justice delayed may become justice denied.
Zubeen’s wife, Garima Saikia Garg, has emerged as a powerful and emotional voice demanding clarity. Speaking after the 11th day rituals, she laid bare her anguish: Why was Zubeen allowed near water when those close to him, including his manager, knew that epilepsy could trigger seizures? Why was there no immediate attempt to rescue him, despite clear signs of exhaustion? Why were adequate medical arrangements, security, and precautions not provided at a high-profile international festival? Her words cut deep: “We want to know what happened to him, why it happened, and how this negligence could be allowed. We want answers.” She has accused those who accompanied him—his manager Siddharth Sharma, musician Shekhar Goswami, and members of the Singapore Assam Association—of failing in their duty of care. For her, their silence and inaction remain inexcusable.
Garima’s frustration with Mahanta, the festival organiser, is particularly sharp. How could someone who claimed to be a “friend” of the artist fail to provide even the most basic arrangements for his safety and well-being? For a star of Zubeen’s stature—someone who carried the cultural pride of Assam wherever he went—such negligence feels both shocking and disrespectful. Even more disturbing is the revelation that Zubeen may not have been aware of the yacht trip, which raises serious doubts about how the final hours of his life were managed and by whom.
This case is no longer confined to the courts. It is unfolding in full public view, powered by the love and outrage of people who saw Zubeen not just as a singer but as a voice of their collective soul. His wife’s call for justice is echoed by citizens across Assam, who have filed FIRs, organised vigils, and demanded accountability.
DGP: SIT will reach ‘final conclusion’ in Zubin’s death case the SIT’s eventual findings will be critical in shaping whether people continue to believe in the justice system. But beyond the legal process, this case highlights urgent questions about how we protect our artists, how event organisers handle responsibility, and whether human negligence can ever be allowed to claim the lives of cultural icons. For Assam and the Northeast, this is not just about the death of a beloved singer. It is about the betrayal of trust, the failure of duty, and the demand for truth. Zubeen’s voice may have been silenced, but the fight for answers has only just begun.