This is not the first time that a popular artiste has retired before time. The best of them have often quietly receded into the background, leaving behind a legacy that shows up only in viral reels now. But Arijit Singh’s announcement came as a true shocker. While posting an update that would send fans into endless grief, the singer neither offered a detailed explanation nor penned a long note.
He casually shared the news along with his new year greetings, almost as an afterthought. In a way, the message aptly captured what made Arijit an impactful presence in contemporary music. He did it like nobody else could. While Arijit has clarified that he will be active as a musician, his fans see this as a farewell, as a void that would be hard to fill — and for a good reason.
Before he made it big in the film music scene, Arijit was already a familiar name for the 90s kids who grew up seeing him as a volcanic talent on the TV show Fame Gurukul (2006), as someone who clearly stood out, yet got voted out due to skewed up voting system.
Years later, even though he received plenty of acclaim for his songs in Barfi (2012), it was ‘Sun Raha Hai Na,’ his chartbuster from the breakout hit Aashiqui 2 (2013) that made Arijit an overnight sensation and a nation-wide sweetheart. 2013 was a time when Hindi film music was at its experimental peak, with plenty of new sensibilities on the block. And yet, there was no voice that captured the imagination of a generation.
Much like Sonu Nigam, Arijit was never confined to a specific genre or style. He moulded his voice to suit every composer, every mood. Versatility was his stronghold. In the same month as Aashiqui, an album known for its melancholic ballads, Arijit sang ‘Dilli Waali Girlfriend (Ye Jawani Hai Diwani),’ an upbeat dance anthem where his voice is almost unrecognisable with its impish energy.
Also, at a time when popular music was heavily relying on autotune and technical wizardry, Arijit embodied an old-school finesse, honed by classical training, and command on language. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that he seamlessly fit in all kinds of compositions, be it Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s symphonic soundscapes, Pritam’s angsty rock ballads or footloose dance numbers like ‘Ghunghroo’ and ‘What Jhumka.’ If all music labels and leading composers chased Arijit, it was because the man could do anything. From 2014 to 2025, it would be hard to think of a great film album that didn’t have an Arijit number.
Despite his overwhelming range, Arijit also became the poster boy of heartbreak songs. And like most things 21st century, the memeification of Arijit as a ‘sad song expert’ helped him create an insurmountable brand, while also quietly leading to the much-discussed ‘Arijit overdose,’ a notion that didn’t necessarily have merit. It cannot be the question of volume — Arijit sang an average of 35-40 of the 600 film songs produced every year, barely 6% of the total output.
The perception possibly built up because Bollywood music fanbase was becoming increasingly niche. Only songs with massive marketing plans were getting wider reach. By sheer design of the machinery, Arijit became the man with the most number of songs for over a decade.
If one observes his career arc, the much-loved singer visibly handled his success easily, but not lightly — and it is this very ability that allowed Arijit to be a quiet outlier. In 2024, in the wake of the RG Kar movement, he released a protest song ‘Aar Kobe,’ a rare move for an artiste of his stature. At the peak of his career, Arijit turned to composition with the Sanya Malhotra-starrer Pagglait (2021). When he got into a public spat with Salman Khan, after a jokey banter at an awards function went awry, the singer had no qualms in addressing it publicly in his social media posts, seeking a resolution.
There are speculations about Arijit’s issues with music labels over copyright and royalty too. And the political colour given to his 2023 concert in Kolkata. These stories stood at odds with Arijit’s popular image, creating a fascinating collage of a crowd-favourite who refused to crowd-please. Arijit was always sincere, but never too attached to his glory — the signs were always there.
Now, the question is, who would be next. Many names might be thrown into the ring, but will there be another phenomenon like Arijit? Considering how the significance of songs in Hindi film narrative has reduced, as songs aren’t always integral to the story, Arijit could be seen as one of the last of the practitioners of a dying art form.
And while the critique of ‘too many Arijit songs’ has only grown over the past few years, one would be hard-pressed to think of another playback singer in recent years with such strong imprint on Hindi film music. So when fans mourn the exit of Arijit from playback singing, they are mourning the bona fide end of an era.
It’s a new beginning for the virtuoso — and we want Arijit to continue being true to himself. After all, that’s what made Arijit who he is — successful, sincere, and secure in himself.