November 5, 2011, was a date that will remain etched in our memories forever. Bhupenda’s final moment had come. The golden voice, which moved the hearts of millions of people in India and the world, will sing no more. As the visuals of the great man lying in eternal slumber swept throughout, a pall of gloom was casted over a nation of Bhupenda’s fans and admirers. 

The initial feeling was one of deep sadness. As the truth began to sink in, and the realization of the loss sunk deeper, sadness slowly turned into inconsolable grief. We realized that although we expected him to leave, we were never prepared to see him leave. Emotions and sentiments broke all barriers and flowed in a cascade. Suddenly, Bhupenda was everywhere. Memories of his heart-rending songs filled our beings. His kind and emotive baritone filled the air. All of a sudden, we found new meaning in his songs; we sensed his intense love for us; his empathy for our pains and sufferings; and we loved him even more than we thought ourselves capable of. Tears rose spontaneously and uncontrollably in our eyes, and something seemed to die within us, something we held so dear, something that has been a part of us for so long, consciously and unconsciously, that his sudden demise left our hearts empty and made our souls weep. The ocean of humanity that inundated the land to bid farewell to its most loved soul, and to express heartfelt gratitude to a man who gave himself up for his motherland and for his people, was certainly one of the most touching scenes witnessed anywhere in the world.

The massive and unified outpouring of emotion from the masses was also a sign of an awakening, a rueful realization of a great loss, as also indicative of an accompanying regret that we could have done much more for the man who did everything for us, than we had done while he was alive. Now, even as his ashes merge into the great sea, we can only reflect and ponder about what we, the people of Assam have lost, what our great motherland has lost, and what humanity itself has lost. We have lost a great patriarch, a loving father, who bled his heart for his people, shared our every emotion - our joys, sorrows and struggles, and sang with passionate earnestness to show us the path of love, compassion, brotherhood and harmony, throughout his life. We have lost a literary giant, who composed the most sublime poetry; a musical genius, whose music seems to have a soul of its own; a great singer, who sang from his heart, for the good of humanity, and to share the pains, sufferings and joys of the common man.

Assam has lost one of its greatest patriots. A truer son of the soil may never be seen again, such was Bhupenda’s love for his motherland. In his demise, Assam has lost a son who lived her spirit; whose heart throbbed for her; who carried her spirit in his heart wherever he went, and flaunted it with pride to the world. Her verdant fields, hills and forests, rivulets and streams; her sky and her soil; and the great river Brahmaputra, Bhupenda’s fond companion, will never feel the same again without him. Bhupenda’s entire life is an example of supreme sacrifice for his land and people. Bestowed with the most extraordinary gifts of literature, music and art, Bhupenda could easily have scaled the zenith of fame and fortune on the world stage. However, the die-hard patriot and the paragon of humility that he was, he considered no gratification greater, no reward bigger than being the voice of his people, echoing their sentiments, consoling them in their sorrow, partaking of their happiness and joy, and giving them strength and inspiration during their struggles. Bhupenda may have called himself a zazabor, a wanderer with a purpose, but all his peregrinations were for the cause of his motherland, and the overwhelming passion to see his people in happiness and prosperity. He derived all his inspiration, all his energy, from the knowledge that there was one small corner of the world, his dear motherland, Assam, which will always beckon him with warmth; in which hallowed turf resided his soul, and in every heart of which land, he had a home. The zazabor travelled far and wide, enchanted and entranced peoples across the country and the world, but he coveted the warmth, the sweet appreciation, of his own people the most. Assam was his life, and life in Assam without Bhupenda is hard to contemplate.

Yet, Bhupenda too was the subject of vilification and slander, ironically at the hands of some of the very people he loved. However, he refrained from uttering a word, or raising a finger in his defence. He had no words, no expressions, nothing left to prove his affection for his land and his people, a love that was his very life, the very reason for his existence; a love for which he had sacrificed everything in life. He suffered in silence, with saintly forbearance. He shed many a tear, endured many a moment of desolation, away from his people, away from his beloved land. Fate had cruelly decried that his life-long desire to spend the final moments of his life in the lap of his motherland, in the company of his life-long friend – the great Brahmaputra, was to remain unfulfilled.

It is hard to believe Bhupenda is no more, but it is the cruel truth we will have to live with. There is no one, even in the farthest horizon, and beyond it, to fill his great shoes. No more will he sing poignant praises of his motherland. No more will he sing to console the poor farmer, or weep and pray for him in his hours of helplessness and despair. No more will he sing for the great Brahmaputra, his friend and the creator, protector and provider of his dear motherland. Humanity as a whole will be poorer from the loss of one of its greatest champions. However, Bhupenda will always stay alive through his immortal creations, and continue to guide us on the path of virtue. The sea of humanity that came to see off Bhupenda on his final journey is an apt testimony of the unifying power of his works. Bhupenda dreamed of a united Assam - strong and prosperous. He taught us to appreciate beauty, to find bliss in sharing the sorrows of our fellow men. Assamese society has proved that it can unite as one in the name of Bhupenda, and that augurs well for the future. If we even make an attempt to tread the path that Bhupenda has shown us, we will go a long way in realizing his dream for us. We cannot, and must not, let Bhupenda die, because he represents not only all the noble virtues and exalted values of life, but also the very identity of a true Assamese. Bhupenda will have to live on, in our hearts, in our collective consciousness, if Assam and Assamese culture are to survive the tide of time. Time may have taken Bhupenda from us, but we will have to make it impossible for Time to erase the timelessness of his presence, as long as Time itself is alive.