On the evening of November 5, 2011 around 4.50pm, in a meeting in Delhi, a teary-eyed Nabam Tuki, the chief minister of Arunachal Pradesh, gave me the news of Bhupen Hazarika’s demise. The Bard of the Brahmaputra was no more.

I was aware of his illness but was not prepared for the news. A kind of darkness enveloped the air, a betraying stillness and memories of aMaster churning out melodies that resonated in the collective consciousness of Assam and India’s east.

On the evening of November 7, I awaited the arrival of his mortal remains at Judges Field, as did a sea of humanity that was struggling to come to terms with the legend’s demise.

The van carrying his body entered the field with someone singing Sagar sangamat…. I went in and paid my respects to the maestro. As he lay in state in the glass coffin, I could sense the enormity of the loss. For the legend whose contributions intoned every aspect of a progressive Assamese society, death could perhaps be a peaceful transition. There is so much of Bhupenda to inspire us and generations to come. I reflected on my enduring association with him for more than half-a-century.

I was a student in Calcutta University in the late fifties when Bhupen Hazarika was busy with the filming of Era Bator Sur. I would go to the studios and meet him often. Hazarika was a man of immense energy and was never weary of the chores of film-making. We would go to Waldorf — a Chinese Restaurant on Park Street — and talk endlessly over mixed fried rice — a favourite of his — and beer. Then we would walk down to my hostel, Birkmyre, on Middleton Row.

Later, he asked me to review Era Bator Sur, which I did for a leading newspaper. The conversations with him left me spellbound and unravelled the depth of a man whose jest for life was surpassed only by his immense courage and sensitivity. Somewhere within, I knew that Bhupen Hazarika was on the verge of making history. Hazarika had an enduring association with Jorhat. He was perhaps more at ease in the homes of Hemendra Prasad Barua and Bibhucharan Barua (grandson of Devi Charan Barua) than his own, where his jalsas and addas enthralled many.

He walked down the streets of Jorhat with the young Deba Kumar Bora for the latter’s ring ceremony, leaving the onlookers amazed.

I remember one instance when I had to urgently call Dr N.M. Rafique of Assam Agriculture University to treat a minor ailment. When he came, we were surprised to see that he was accompanied by Hazarika, who was with the doctor when I called him! Such was his simplicity.

Bhupen Hazarika leaves behind an enormous volume and variety of work, which will continue to reinforce the creative credentials of Assam and the entire Northeast in times to come. As tributes pour in from all over the world, I pray for his soul to rest in peace. His was, indeed, An Immortal Voice.