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“The People, They Made Me Machine”
Inner Psyche of Zubeen Garg
Debanjan Borthakur
Singer Zubeen Garg’s
last interview with writer
Rita Choudhury uncovered his inner core. People across Assam got to know his inner feelings. He was fascinated by Friedrich Nietzsche’s “Nothingness,” as he expressed in his last interview. Pink Floyd’s psychedelic melodies may have captured Zubeen’s imagination. Instead of collapsing into nothingness, he filled that void with creation of his own “will power”. Zubeen composed rebel yet melodious music at the time when traditional norms and societal narrowness hold people in despair or imitation. His fearless music and lifestyle were Nietzsche’s “will power”, the power to respond to life. He did not choose the path of self-denial and despair like the “will to nothingness.” Therefore, Zubeen’s creations and rebellious lifestyle filled people’s hearts with songs, poetry, and the songs of freedom instead of emptiness. In his last interview, Zubeen seemed to open his mind a little bit to people when he was asked, “Look, you should open up a little bit today, because you won’t do it again.” Maybe pain was in his innermost core. When Zubeen said, “I’m not a machine,” it wasn’t just fatigue, it was a rebuttal to the commodifi-cation of talent. Psychologically, that statement corresponds to what humanistic psychologists like Carl Rogers or Maslow call the need for authentic recognition. He didn’t just want to see himself as a singer; he probably wanted people to love him, and that shouldn’t require him to be acting like a machine. He seemed to understand that creativity could not save him from endless exhaustion. That’s why he said, “I’m a performer; I need to perform and die.” He was not afraid of death; he knew that if he disappeared, he would not be lost that immortality seemed to be waiting for him. With impulsivity and a risk-taking drive, he was eager to jump into the sea without gauging the depths. It is a sensation-seeking trait (Zuckerman’s theory) with a kind of yearning for novelty, risk, and intensity. Creative personalities should always carry this restlessness.”I like to play with the sea; there is nothing to do in the sea; I haven’t got the ship yet”- the sea is a metaphor for Zubeen. On the one hand it is drama, and on the other hand its futility is an endless vastness where no ship can reach. It reflects the existential weakness of Zubeen’s mind: life is a wonder and anemptiness. Nietzsche can also reflect it as a desire to merge with the void, or this oceanic feeling is, in the words of Freud and Romain Rolland, a feeling of merging with an infinity that is metaphysical but fearful. Zubeen often blurred the line between himself and art. He didn’t just create songs; he lived as if his life was a song. If one brings up the theory of psychologist MihalyCsikszentmihalyi, Zubeen may go into a mental state called flow when he is absorbed in the whisper of music. Singing one song after another during the day, he went into this flow mental state. With 38,000 songs in the bag, that’s a lot! But when art becomes a commodity, the feeling that it threatens his being annoys him; he gets angry. There is no way to separate the Assamese identity from the philosophical aspect of Zubeen Garg. His rebellion was not without roots. He associated the Assamese entity with his creation.”I want to be Zubeen Garg again in rebirth, more than that”- these words reveal another aspect of his personality. It is a legend-making gesture, akin to McAdams’ theory of narrative identity, in which individuals craft life stories that emphasise solidarity and legacy. Zubeen wants to be Zubeen, or bigger, in his next life. Zubeen was afraid of time, looking at his watch and saying he is afraid of time. He was afraid that he might cease to exist, and he wanted to see his life turned into a narrative; to see himself as a legend, didn’t Alexander want that too?
But he turned this existential fear into creativity. He said, “I live with millions of people. So, I will stay with them. I’m a performer; I need to perform and die.” He integrated his life into the performance of his art. For an artist, life has meaning only as long as he continues to perform for life, immortality. Performance is over; life is over.”I eat less; I feed” - everyone knows Zubeen’s altruism; it needs no explanation. But it seems to fit Carl Jung’s concept of the wounded healer. Zubeen himself is wounded from inside. There was a darkness deep in his heart. He says, “I don’t know why I write some dark songs (RoiRoiBinale).” The mathematician Ramanujan did not know how he invented number theory and infinite series; it must have come from his subconscious mind. One can say, exactly creation is a channel, not a controlled act. There is often no conscious control behind creation. He said, “A king should never leave his kingdom. If I die in Assam, Assam will be closed for a week.” People can understand this from social identity theory. Zubeen is not separate from Assamese nationalism.
But he carries that burden; the burden of symbolic immortality, the idea that death would not be an end of him. He thus dared to jump into the depths of the sea, he was into an intellectual emptiness where alcohol and amusement were emphasised; yet he knew he will be alone at the time of death, he imagined an existential isolation when he said, “When you die in battle, there are only three with you; the others are gone; they all run away.”The people, they made me machine. I wasn’t like that…”–ZubeenGarg. There are many people who may have mistaken ZubeenGarg’s dignity for arrogance. He came and went; this is life.
[DebanjanBorthakur is a part-time lecturer and researcher in the Department of Psychology at the University of Toronto. 19058707641]
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Vol 58, No. 20, Nov 9 - 15, 2025 |