In an unprecedented display of love and emotion, Assamese audiences filled cinema halls across the state before dawn on the day of the release of Roi Roi Binale, the final film of singer-actor Zubeen Garg. The first shows began at 4:25 am, with fans arriving as early as 3 am, some even in the pouring rain, to witness what many described as “a last meeting” with the beloved artist.
A dawn premiere rooted in sentiment
While early morning screenings are rare in Assam, theatres reported overwhelming demand days before release. Many single-screen halls, which had long struggled for footfall, reopened with fresh paint and decorated entrances. Films typically draw festive crowds, but this was different — subdued, emotional, reverent.
For many, the screening was not simply a movie outing. It was a communal farewell. Zubeen Garg, who passed away in September last year, holds a deep cultural presence in Assam — not just as a playback singer, but as a creator, lyricist, composer, actor, poet, and youth icon intertwined with the region’s identity.
Crowds outside major theatres such as in Guwahati, Nagaon, Dibrugarh and Jorhat sang his songs while waiting in queues. Some carried photos and posters; some placed candles. Whispered conversations shared personal memories — a concert attended, a song that healed heartbreak, an encounter that felt like destiny.
Tears inside the theatres
Once the film began, emotions were raw. Viewers were seen holding tissues, some unable to watch scenes without pausing to look away. A number of fans openly wept when Zubeen’s voice and presence filled the screen.
In one hall, a young man was seen accompanying his grandmother, said to be over 90, who insisted that she wanted to see Zubeen “one last time.” In another, groups of friends clung to each other during emotional segments. Videos taken inside the theatres showed silence — broken only by sniffles.
The film’s title itself, Roi Roi Binale — meaning “tears continue to flow” — seemed to echo the sentiment of the moment.
A 19-year dream completed
The film had reportedly been Zubeen Garg’s dream project for nearly two decades. He was deeply involved during production — contributing to music, screenplay notes, emotional beats, and casting suggestions. The film was almost complete at the time of his passing, allowing the team to release it as he had envisioned.
For his colleagues, the premiere was bittersweet. Members of the film crew expressed that seeing the audience respond so strongly affirmed Zubeen’s lasting connection with the people. The film now stands as both a creative work and a memorial.
A cultural experience, not a release
The release of Roi Roi Binale has sparked something unusual: a revival of cinema culture. Many theatres that had been struggling for years saw full houses. Some cancelled other shows entirely to accommodate repeat screenings. Several halls reported instant sell-outs for morning, afternoon, and evening shows.
The phenomenon indicates more than fandom. In Assam, Zubeen Garg represented continuity — between tradition and modernity, folk and pop, stage and street. His music has been a soundtrack to personal histories, weddings, protests, celebrations, heartbreaks and revolutions.
This film became the space where a collective memory could gather, breathe, and cry.
A farewell that is not an end
Though Roi Roi Binale marks his final appearance on screen, fans insisted this is not the end — only a continuation of the connection.
Outside some theatres, groups of young people stayed back even after the film ended, singing “Ya Ali” and “Mayabini” softly in the early morning light. Others lit small incense sticks. A few simply sat in silence.
One fan, eyes red from crying, summed it up:
“Zubeen is not gone. He is in the voice of every Assamese child. He will keep coming back in our hearts.”
Conclusion
The 4 am screenings, the queues in the rain, the tears in dark halls — they were proof of something rare: an artist becoming part of the identity of a region. Roi Roi Binale may be a movie, but its release was a ceremony — a farewell full of love, memory, music and quiet grief.