The world of Indian music stood still on Tuesday. In a move that left millions of fans across the globe heartbroken, Arijit Singh – the soulful voice of a generation, announced his retirement from playback singing in a post on Instagram.
Arijit also thanked fans for their love, but said that he is “calling it off.” For a decade, his voice has been the companion to our heartbreaks, our romances, and our quietest moments of introspection. As the news breaks, social media is flooded with tributes, but for me, the news hits differently. It takes me back to a cold night in Hyderabad, 7 December 2024, where I witnessed not just the singer, but the human behind the microphone.
As we process this farewell, I find myself looking at a framed memento from the best day of my life.
A surreal experience: Arijit live in Hyderabad
In 2024, I travelled to Hyderabad with a singular mission: to witness my very first Arijit Singh concert. I had tried multiple times before, but this time, destiny aligned.
The atmosphere was electric. I found myself jumping like a five-year-old watching a superhero come to life. His voice wasn’t just audio; it was a physical force. He sang with a madness and passion that studio recordings simply cannot capture. It was, in a word, surreal.
In the chaos of excitement, I realised a grave error: I had forgotten to bring anything for him to sign. The desperation of a fan took over, and I asked people around me for paper; none had any extra. A kind couple offered to tear a corner of their chart paper, but my conscience wouldn’t let me ruin their souvenir. I looked around until I spotted a bartender with paper cups.
It felt silly, perhaps even stupid, but I grabbed a cup. I stood near the stage, clutching that paper cup, shouting “Arijit! Arijit!” hoping just for a glance, a smile, anything.
Sukoon mila: The moment of connection
As the show neared its end, the chords of ‘Jab Jab Tere Paas Main Aaya, Ik Sukoon Mila’ began to play. It was as if the universe was orchestrating the moment. He walked toward the edge of the stage, right where I was standing.
Amidst the roaring crowd, he began signing autographs – papers, t-shirts, denim jackets. The noise was deafening, yet I decided to shout something different. I didn’t ask for a photo or a signature. I just screamed, “Thank You, Arijit!”
And he heard it. In all of that noise, he looked at me and smiled – a genuine, humble smile, bowing his head slightly to accept the gratitude.
The souvenir
I had placed my paper cup on the stage, but security had initially pushed it aside. However, once Arijit stood up after signing for others, the security guard picked up that specific cup and handed it to me. He had signed it.
The crowd immediately pounced, asking to photograph the cup. I held onto it tightly but carefully, allowing others to click pictures but never letting go. It wasn’t just a cup anymore, and I have it now framed at my home.
The man behind the melody
That night in Hyderabad revealed why Arijit Singh is more than just a playback singer. He went across the entire stage, ensuring he signed as many autographs as physically possible and thanked every single person for attending.
His simplicity has always amazed people. Being humble with such talent and fame is a different thing altogether.
I returned to my hotel that night and slept holding that autograph, much like cricketers are said to sleep holding their jerseys.
As he announces his retirement, that memory in Hyderabad feels even more precious. His singing brings emotions out of us that we didn’t know existed; he makes us feel every single word.
While we may not get new songs, the legacy he leaves behind is immortal. As I look at his Instagram post and then back at my signed paper cup, only one line comes to mind: ‘Tumhein bhulane mein shayad mujhe zamana lage,’ his song from last year’s Metro – In Dino.
Thank you, Arijit. For the music, the memories, and the humility.
