The year 2009 was etched into the collective memory of Swahaid Mozamil Haque Boys Hostel at Cotton College not merely as another academic year, but as the year when art transcended monetary boundaries, and when a legendary figure demonstrated what it truly means to be a people’s artist. The freshers’ programme that autumn evening became an impromptu concert that would resonate through the corridors of Pan Bazar for years to come, crystallising the essence of what Antonio Gramsci would have recognized as the ‘organic intellectual’ in its purest form.
The organisers, led by Anjan Da, faced the perennial challenge that confronts most student-led initiatives: the crushing reality of limited resources. The budget for the freshers’ programme was modest at best, reflecting the honest financial constraints of a college hostel. As phone call after phone call was made to various artists, the responses were predictable and understandable – professional singers, bound by market realities and contractual obligations, politely declined the invitation. The modest honorarium simply could not compete with their usual performance fees.
It was in this moment of near-desperation that Anjan Da decided to reach out to Zubeen Garg, perhaps more out of hope than expectation. The phone call itself was a leap of faith – would one of Assam’s most celebrated artists even consider attending a small hostel programme? The answer that came was unexpected yet characteristic of the man himself. Zubeen agreed to visit, not as a performer for hire, but simply as a guest. There were no contracts, no performance guarantees, no elaborate riders – just a simple agreement to be present among the students. As evening descended on that fateful day in 2009, the hostel premises began to transform. Word had somehow spread through the intricate network of Pan Bazar’s grapevine that Zubeen Garg would be visiting the Cotton College hostel. By 8 PM, when the artist arrived, there was already a palpable sense of anticipation in the air. The modest hostel compound, typically quiet except for the usual student activities, suddenly found itself at the centre of growing excitement.
Zubeen’s initial interactions with the hostellers were informal and genuine. He moved among the students not with the aloofness often associated with celebrity, but with the ease of someone visiting extended family. He inquired about their studies, their lives, their dreams – conversations that revealed his deep connection to the aspirations and struggles of ordinary young people. This wasn't the calculated public relations exercise of a commercial entertainer; it was the natural engagement of someone who had never forgotten his roots. What happened next transformed an ordinary evening into legend. Without fanfare, without the elaborate stage preparations typically associated with professional performances, Zubeen approached the makeshift stage.
There was no backing band, no sophisticated sound system, no elaborate lighting – just a man, a microphone, and an inexplicable compulsion to share his art with the assembled crowd. The first notes that emerged seemed to electrify the very air around Pan Bazar. As his voice soared into ‘Majulir Ejoni Suwali’, one of his most beloved compositions, something magical began to unfold. The song, with its haunting melody and deeply rooted cultural imagery of Assam, seemed to awaken something primal in everyone present. Students who had been casually gathered around suddenly found themselves drawn into the performance, their voices joining his in a spontaneous chorus that transcended the boundaries between performer and audience.
Song after song followed – ten of his greatest hits performed with nothing but raw vocal power and the artist’s innate connection to his music. Each number seemed to draw more people from the surrounding areas. The narrow lanes of Pan Bazar, typically bustling with evening commerce, gradually filled with people drawn by the unmistakable sound of Zubeen’s voice carrying across the night air. Vendors abandoned their stalls, families emerged from their homes, students from neighbouring hostels made their way to the source of this unexpected concert.
Zubeen Garg’s photograph after his performance at the warden’s office of Swahaid Mozamil Haque Boys Hostel at Cotton College in 2009. Collected by the Author.
Organic Intellectual and Cultural Hegemony
To understand the profound significance of that evening, one must view it through the lens of Antonio Gramsci’s concept of the ‘organic intellectual’. Gramsci distinguished between traditional intellectuals, who maintain their positions within established cultural hierarchies, and organic intellectuals, who emerge from and remain connected to their social class, serving as the thinking and organising element of that class. Zubeen Garg, in his impromptu performance that night, embodied the organic intellectual in its most authentic form.
Unlike traditional intellectuals who often become disconnected from their origins, Zubeen has consistently remained grounded, both literally and metaphorically. His music draws from the deep wells of folk tradition, contemporary social realities, and the collective unconscious of his people. His songs speak not from an ivory tower of artistic elitism, but from the rice fields, tea gardens, and urban neighbourhoods where ordinary people of Assam live their daily lives. His decision to perform that night, without payment or contractual obligation, represented what Gramsci would recognise as the organic intellectual’s natural inclination to serve their community. This was not charity or condescension; it was the natural expression of someone who understands that art, at its highest form, belongs to the people from whom it emerges.
Gramsci’s analysis of cultural hegemony – the way dominant classes maintain control through cultural means rather than just force – finds a powerful counter-example in artists like Zubeen Garg. While mainstream commercial entertainment often serves to reinforce existing power structures and consumer culture, Zubeen’s work consistently challenges these narratives. His songs address social inequality, cultural preservation, political corruption, and the struggles of ordinary people – themes that don't always align with commercial interests.
His presence in regional politics, his outspoken positions on issues affecting Assam, and his willingness to use his platform for social commentary mark him as someone who refuses to separate his art from his social responsibility. This integration of cultural production with political consciousness exemplifies Gramsci’s vision of how organic intellectuals can contribute to social transformation.
The Ripple Effect
The impact of that evening extended far beyond the immediate euphoria of the performance. For the students present, it represented a masterclass in authenticity and artistic integrity. They witnessed firsthand how genuine artistry transcends commercial considerations, how cultural connection can create magic without elaborate production values, and how true popularity is built on genuine human connection rather than marketing campaigns. The broader community of Pan Bazar experienced something equally valuable – the democratisation of high-quality cultural experience. In a society where access to live performances by major artists is often limited by economic barriers, that evening demonstrated that art, in its purest form, recognizes no such boundaries.
As Assam looks toward its future, the potential absence of voices like Zubeen Garg’s represents more than just the loss of a popular entertainer. It represents the possible erosion of a particular kind of cultural leadership – the organic intellectual who bridges the gap between artistic excellence and social commitment, between entertainment and enlightenment, between commercial success and cultural authenticity. The night at Swahaid Mozamil Haque Boys Hostel stands as a testament to what becomes possible when artists remember their fundamental responsibility to their community. It was a reminder that true artistry lies not in the sophistication of production values or the size of monetary transactions, but in the authentic connection between creator and audience, between individual expression and collective experience.
Zubeen Garg with from the left Abhijit, Swaroop and Biswajit at the warden’s office of Swahaid Mozamil Haque Boys Hostel at Cotton College in 2009. Collected by the Author.
In an era increasingly dominated by commercial considerations and digital mediation, the memory of that spontaneous concert serves as both inspiration and challenge – a reminder of what art can be when it returns to its roots and serves the people from whom it springs. Zubeen Garg's legacy, embodied in moments like these, will continue to resonate as a model for future generations of artists who choose to remain connected to their public and true to their cultural responsibilities.
Prithiraj Borah is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at NALSAR University of Law, Hyderabad. He can be reached at prithiraj.borah@nalsar.ac.in.
