Persepolis

Yesterday, after a long period of time, I finished a book. Not quite a book really - well, it was a graphic novel called Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. It is a French-language autobiographical comic (translated to English, of course) by Marjane Satrapi depicting her childhood up to her early adult years in Iran during and after the Islamic revolution. It is an engrossing read and keeps you entertained and informed with tidbits of political commentary and humor sprinkled all over.

But the part that I related most to was the narrative about little Marjane's break-up with her high-school boyfriend Markus, who was found to have been cheating on her. I'll quote a little passage from the book which summarizes the way I felt and continually feel after my break-up with Vinokur.

My breakup with Markus represented more than a simple separation. I had just lost my one emotional support, the only person who cared for me, and to who I was also wholly attached.

I had no family or friends; I had counted on this relationship for everything. The world had just crumbled in front of my eyes.

“Leave me alone, please!”

Everything reminded me of Markus. This bedspread, it was his birthday present to me.

This posted, he bought for me at the Picasso show at the Museum of Modern Art.

His T-shirt. Oh, his T-shirt.

Aside from him, who else was sincerely interested in me during these four years in Vienna.

Where was my mother to stroke my hair?

Where was my grandmother to tell me that lover, I would have them by the dozen?

Where was my father to punish this boy who hurt his daughter? Where?

In this room, everything evoked Markus. I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I took my bag, my passport, the plane ticket my parents had given me to visit them at Christmas, and a little money.

Of course, I don't have close ties with my family and parents, nor do I have plane tickets to go back home -- I don't want to go back home, actually -- the life of Marjane resembles mine in a variety of aspects. The way she breaks down after her break-up, the way she considers herself to be a loser and goes into depression after having failed at being what her parents had hoped her to be, the way she isolated herself from her friends and family, and the way her first marriage breaks up -- all this represents what I am going through right now.

I think I have gotten way too emotional with this blog post already. The take home message is, folks, read the book. Or at least watch the movie.

Emotional blackmail (Part 2)

Earlier, I had written about my Mom emotionally blackmailing me to try and make me give medical advice to my aunt/uncle who had helped me out financially in the past. I was furious and tried to explain to my Mom how difficult it was for me to initiate a conversation with virtual strangers with whom I hadn't had a conversation for years. She tried to reason with me but I didn't give up.

Well, she called me a couple of days later with the same proposition. After a bit of arguing, instead of hanging up, I offered her a solution. I said, I'll give the advice to you and you can relay to it. Initially, my Mom was hesitant, but eventually she gave in. Of course, there was bitterness written all over the conversation. And we hung up on each other without saying goodbye.

Later in the evening, my Mom called me up and said "I have told aunt/uncle what you told me. Now you don't have to call them." I said "Okay" and I hung up. Good riddance!

The Erstwhile-rs : Cousins

In the last couple of days at sleepy old Thiruvananthapuram during my coming out visit, I tried to spend to catch up with the near, dear and not-so-dear ones from my past. It was not really a ritual, something that you would have wished to avoid but rather, something that was agreeable but was necessitated because of the my absence with my parents for prolonged periods of time. Yes, here I was selfish and selfless at the same time – I depend on my friends and relatives for taking care of my Mom and Dad.

On the third evening, I spent time catching up with my set of paternal cousins (with whom I had a tendency to bond better from childhood) having dinner at one of the quaint restaurant which I used to frequent in the last few years of my life at the town. Four of my cousins, all male offspring of the siblings of my father had met earlier in the day and spent some time listening to the Noise Market songs that I was carrying with me on my mp3 player.

About this – they are very excited about my alter-career. It's not often that fame and glamour embraces our family and when its served in the fashionable form of alternative rock, it is exciting even for me. The point is, very clearly, I was excited to. I played them the tracks which would be coming up in the album on their stereo system and later on in the car-stereo and was explaining to them what the lyric is about in a very cunt-sy way.

We had a great bonding moment when the youngest of them all, the 8 year old bag of naughtiness, decided to pose in front of the restaurant as munnabhai while the fag one, quite deservedly, acted as his make up artist. Inside the restaurant, we talked about each others lives and careers and stuff. The three older ones were all either working or poised to land a job so lucrative that anyone, forget myself, would be ashamed of themselves.

Unlike the last time, however, the conversation seemed to religiously avoid the topic of my marriage and it seemed to me that at least my cousins would have come to know about my sexuality through my web presence. That was a pleasant surprise and I felt the cushion of honesty enveloping becoming fatter and fatter thus avoiding the discomfort of having to live/sit with a bony arse a tad less.

The youngest of them all, the one that I really feel fond of, is an adopted child and I have somehow felt more than his 'big' brother since he arrived in my life. I think it's the father inside me that is being gently thawed out. I sat next to him the entire evening and spent some time teaching him how to eat with a fork and spoon and how to be courteous to a waiter etc.

I'm sure that this young man would not have the faintest clue that I did all this. But this would be treasured with me for the rest of my life. Is it just me or am I getting more romantic and/or archaic these days?

Re-strung!

I don't know why I don't seem to have any problems in finding the title for my posts. Today for example, I have a couple of dozen things to write on and technically, I should have found it rather difficult to think about the right title. What do I do? Take a look around, find the first thing you see and think about it. I saw my classy looking red 'n glitzy electric guitar, something that I have not played for a couple of years or so and the title came flowing to me. Of course, I changed its strings and I'm all ready for recordings some parts for the Rainbow Song.

It's curious that this title also applies to two other things which were the subjects of interest of the last post - the song's status and the thymic status. Today morning, I got up and checked my e-mails and I saw a lot of nice things. First of all, I read a lot of nice things about the lyric from my friends in GB. They liked it so much that they are requesting me to perform in front of them soon. More importantly though, I got responses from Rob, someone who really respect/admire/look upto in terms of music (despite he being a decade younger than me). He wrote that he and Jodi think that it's my best song yet. Of course, I had sent them the demo version (the one that I was unahappy about) and they loved it. I had sent it in for some suggestions from Rob. He thought that the song is perfect just the way it was.

I was very moved by all this. And I decided to work to improving with more vigour. I have done the entire vocal take once more. And it does sound much better. But I'm not stopping there. I'm getting in electric guitars and programmed drums in there. I've already all set for recording electric guitar parts. By tomorrow, I will have the software for making drum beats from S. I'm really excited about the entire thing. And I really hope to make you guys enjoy listening to this.

The turn-around with the song did help me with my thymic status as well. What really did make me feel good is a phone conversation with Mom. It had been a few days since we spoke and I hadn't returned a couple of missed calls yesterday because of my rather depressed state. I'm ruing that now after I heard what she said. Apparently, in the last couple of days or so, a few of my relatives had rang them up to tell them about what they thought of Noise Market. One of my cousins had spread the word and a few of them have listened to our MySpace tracks.

One of them, an elder cousin of my father, is professional singer. He used to recite Carnatic concerts which can still be heard on the AIR. He was totally overjoyed to know that I had taken up music seriously. He and his family are the only people left in my family who still pursue music and they were apparently impressed by what they heard. He asked my parents to support me in whichever way they can. He said that I will do them proud one day with my music. Now, that comment, coming from a professional musician in my family, the same people who I never really bothered to connect with, is special. I'm truly happy!

Finally, my family is proud of me being a musician! Despite all the 'distance' between myself and them, they have always been proud of my academics and the doctor thing. But they were never really bothered about what really mattered to me. I hope this is a step forward in slowly welcoming me, the true self, back.

(PS: Noise Market met up without the workbound S. and worked on a new tune. It is shaping up nicely. And yeah, we might have a gig later on ths month at Khalsa college. I'll confirm that soon.)