It Was 1986: Jayanta Kakati Recalls His School Days with Zubeen Garg

It was 1986. We were studying in Class IX at Tamulpur Higher Secondary School. We had just moved up from Class VIII when, one day, a new boy joined our classroom.

He wore sunglasses and a grey tracksuit. We did not speak much during our first introduction. His way of talking seemed a little different from ours. He spoke in formal, written Assamese. It was only later that we came to know that his name was Zubeen Garg.

A few days later, just after the fourth period, the school peon came looking for the first four students of Class IX and the newly admitted boy. My roll number was 3, so I went to the headmaster’s office along with the others.

It was there that I met Zubeen’s father, Mohini Mohan Borthakur, for the first time. He had joined Tamulpur as an SDC.

He told us, “The headmaster hasn’t called you. I called you. You three students with roll numbers 1, 2 and 3, along with my son, should stay together. My son has also passed from a school in Bijni, securing second position. So you should all stay together. After school, you can also come to my quarter.”

Those words marked the beginning of our friendship.

The first time we visited Zubeen’s quarters, I noticed that there were many books there. I thought Zubeen’s father must be an avid reader. At the time, Zubeen’s younger sister Jonki Borthakur was in Class VII, while Pami was only about five years old.

Gradually, we began visiting the quarters whenever we had something to do. Zubeen was good at his studies. He was not particularly mischievous, but there was a certain restlessness within him.

We also acted in plays together at school. Zubeen had a deep fascination for the river beside the school. His attachment to the river seemed different from that of others. He also had a mouth organ, which he would play for us.

When we were in Class X, a girl named Junmoni Gogoi joined the school. She was a student of Section B. Whether Zubeen had any feelings for her at the time, I cannot say. In those days, boys and girls did not openly interact the way they do today.

Years later, the timeless song ‘Junmoni’ came alive through Zubeen Garg’s voice. In that era of strict discipline and shy interactions, even if boys and girls rarely spoke to each other, perhaps at some moment the artist within Zubeen had captured the face of that familiar girl—a face that would later come alive as a song across Assam.

Zubeen may not have studied constantly like the rest of us, but despite studying less, he was good at academics. After his father was transferred, he enrolled at J.B. College. With time, we drifted apart, but the memories of our friendship remained.

Then came 1995. I met Zubeen again at a night-time programme at Gauhati University. At the time, I wondered whether he would still recognise me. He had become so well-known by then.

His hair was long, and he looked very handsome. I thought perhaps he had forgotten me.

But Zubeen surprised me.

He came up to me and called out, “Kakoti, Kakoti, Kakoti,” like a player being called onto a kabaddi field, before warmly embracing me. Even after seven years, he had not forgotten me.

By then, Zubeen Garg had already carved out a distinct identity in the world of music. He was no longer just the new boy who had joined our school. He had become Assam’s beloved artist.

Yet, to me, he was still the same Zubeen—the classmate from Tamulpur Higher Secondary School and my close friend.

Time changed. His identity changed. Zubeen Garg went on to touch the skies. But even after seven years, he had not forgotten his friend.

That warm moment when he embraced me remains vivid in my memory even today.

This is how Jayanta Kakati, Zubeen Garg’s former schoolmate and close friend, opened up his treasure trove of memories.