indiastan hindutva polis
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marjane_Satrapi
i am fond of comics ever since i was a child. tintin i read many times and possessed many times and distributed many times even when i am as old as me at 70. then asterix hagar dennis charlie brown and many more. whenever i hear of comic i have to read. i collect them all i can get. by now i have ordered 15 marjane satrapi and have three of them. my eyes are increasingly giving me problems. it took me about three days to complete persepolis. it was black and white and small prints. i can omit words in books novels what not. many a film i see without listening to dialog or subtitle. i often see foreign films in languages i do not know or english pronunciations beyond me. but not so for comics. they are written for me! even if it is one picture. if i have to take up the comic book before i sleep, i am haunted with dreams giving me clues to what did not follow or missed.
i was in bahrain during 1980-82. there was a mild oppression of shiites in my village samaheeze too for few hours. i just witnessed that in the only road that ran through my village. i used to walk in the evening through that road many miles to some distance to sit on the shore and watch sea coming near or going far. i used to come home late night. the sea before me was only 100 yards from me with nothing between us. for many centuries my village people were living on fish curd dates thick large oven cooked bread. i also tried once or twice. i tried everything. i used to live with some filipinos and i also tried eating like them. the floor of sea, persian gulf, had maiz and it used to get filled with water along with living sea creatures considered eatable. sometimes i went hunting with them but i could barely eat them. once a young boy gave me a small shark for me to cook and i did not know how. sometimes i used to go to a big market of the island mahariq and get tuna and other luxury fish items but i could not make them edible for me. i enjoyed my khichuri day in day out. there were no restaurants where i lived. if and when i was taken to far away restaurants by car i would eat shashlik kebab curry and other delicacies to my hearts content.
they are my graphic memories unbelievable and unforgettable. sometimes i heard of shah of iran from my friend bassim. he had gone there before many times. i never thought it was recent then. i went to persian gulf knowing nothing and lived there knowing nothing. six months after i resigned since i could not tolerate my indian friends and their values; neither could i tolerate inhumanity from the bosses towards them although i was not touched. i did whatever pleased me. i was allowed. many days i would not leave my home. if i come it would be very late. i loved my loneliness in my village. for a while they tried to bring me to city near office but i refused. nor did i get a car but preferred walking. bassim was given to me as my friend and constant companion. he had a car being from a rich family. i had my fascination for a beautiful girl who could hardly speak english. my secretary. our computer manager sayed ali's niece. i lived there another years
till i was bored. i left. several months after my indian friend sent me the money i did not collect, a month's pay. my friend is 74 now but still lives there! long after i left, arab spring was brutally suppressed in bahrain. i lived in bahrain with very young friends and i enjoyed what they enjoyed there. fishing and being driven by them for my whims. i did not know islam and it was not necessary since they discussed with me tagore gandhi yoga. strangely i remember when i was for a few days in moscow the customer buying my software was interested to talk about yoga with me. but then i was doing that for very many decades. i was trying to be squint eyed and exercising to send my both eyes at the back of my head. before time.
for three nights i breathlessly read satrapi and her world! this world i did not know. my next door neighbor about 17 years back was irani, ben. his wife, mona told me she does not like iran or to go there. she cannot wear black cover. her parents came here once. she is in seattle or somewhere now. ben has gone back to syria at least 15 years ago. she never went. ben showed me once a collection of videos he had of shah of iran. i truly did not know when was that time and i was approximately within 100 miles away living in bahrain. bahrain then did not have the causeway to dahran. reading satrapi, i realized how unrealistic i was. my world did not have iran. although i read so much of iran and poets from iran. reading satrapi, i learnt about iran trapped in communism and religious oppression not very long ago. i learnt how successfully west created a dummy shah to ruin iran. i also learnt after revolution to create 8 years long devastating war of with million dead with another made up dummy sadat hussain. i have seen many dozens films from iran but did not understand. as much as i do not understand hindutva or any religion. politics of religion in india or anywhere in the world!
i just finished the second part satrapi this time in film. her adolescent days in austria france etc.her homeless status and sickness. then shewishd to come back to iran in early 1990. this time she learnt to draw cartoon and animation. a short marriage and some more problems with religious iran. she was well supported by her family. her family too found out iran cannot be her home. she was arranged to go to france.
satrapi about half my age was unable to understand persepolis the old iran of her childhood that changed entirely too soon; i do not recognize indiastan or hindutva polis to day where i had lived for 50 years; and i could not ever believe that i would not even dream to visit that place again in my life. if india is not anther iran without revolution or western interference! i understand no indian. everyone of them. satrapi still could understand her family grand mother and whole lot of her distant family. i have not met even one indian living in india or abroad from my family or friends with whom i would like to be part. i cannot accept them as they are as me. i fell through a hole through in india; and i can never return ever. language barrier.
is it my innocence and knowledge about my innocence? untouchable
i am not bright enough to know me. I have eaten me like white ants for 7 decades in ten million words. nothing terrestrial exists in me. what about my concept of female as designed by me. they do not hold me enthralled however assisted by my taste buds. for many decades i was a rice eater and rice eater only. my fascinating food was khichuri. but more than a year i have stopped eating rice an khichuri. my knowledge of both does not allow me imagine any more rice based food item.
i took three more days i finished two of her comics ~ embroidery and persepolis 2. my eyes giving me discomfort. they were in black and white and writing is not very legible. what i came to know is about iran and how it is facing its economic crisis and political crisis. i do not much know about hindutva agenda of bjp rss but i was able to imagine the similarity. crisis is economic. satrapi's struggle to be woman to regain her freedom of expression as woman in world where religion is enforced to implement poverty and economic sanction and war devastated economic progress and technology.
this girl faced in her own lifetime of youth of 25 years so many cultural change that she could not adjusted to. i was constantly reminded of mona. whatever little interaction i had with her. i am naturally shy and respectful to woman. i in fact avoid interaction with them. i love and respect them and not not curious about them about their sex. in bahrain girls were curious about me but i was not. every occasion i realized my love respect and ideas for them is not inherited by them. even it was so for my daughter. till i retracted myself and did not look for my ambitions fulfilled by them.
perhaps i failed to realize my dream home. my disappointment is with my male friends too. they are too not enjoying and sharing but in competition. am i the one in competition?
this girl is still young. born in 1969. as teenage girl she lived in streets of vienna several months. broken relationship. back to iran and studies. marriage but unsustainable and back to europe as grown up and stable to stand on her own merit. i remember mona too came to do her university studies in US. his husband ben was a man of the world. he had his dual appearance and advised me so. he told me to be christian by name and tongue. of course that was unthinkable for me. ben went back to syria about 10 years back. i of course did not keep in touch with them. i had a different agenda. i was not looking to make a home. i was interested to make a home around me ~ i did not mind any sacrifice ~ i did mind compromise!
satrapi told a story of her own liberation from theocratic iran. finding her expression in cartoon and comics.
i am fond of comics ever since i was a child. tintin i read many times and possessed many times and distributed many times even when i am as old as me at 70. then asterix hagar dennis charlie brown and many more. whenever i hear of comic i have to read. i collect them all i can get. by now i have ordered 15 marjane satrapi and have three of them. my eyes are increasingly giving me problems. it took me about three days to complete persepolis. it was black and white and small prints. i can omit words in books novels what not. many a film i see without listening to dialog or subtitle. i often see foreign films in languages i do not know or english pronunciations beyond me. but not so for comics. they are written for me! even if it is one picture. if i have to take up the comic book before i sleep, i am haunted with dreams giving me clues to what did not follow or missed.
i was in bahrain during 1980-82. there was a mild oppression of shiites in my village samaheeze too for few hours. i just witnessed that in the only road that ran through my village. i used to walk in the evening through that road many miles to some distance to sit on the shore and watch sea coming near or going far. i used to come home late night. the sea before me was only 100 yards from me with nothing between us. for many centuries my village people were living on fish curd dates thick large oven cooked bread. i also tried once or twice. i tried everything. i used to live with some filipinos and i also tried eating like them. the floor of sea, persian gulf, had maiz and it used to get filled with water along with living sea creatures considered eatable. sometimes i went hunting with them but i could barely eat them. once a young boy gave me a small shark for me to cook and i did not know how. sometimes i used to go to a big market of the island mahariq and get tuna and other luxury fish items but i could not make them edible for me. i enjoyed my khichuri day in day out. there were no restaurants where i lived. if and when i was taken to far away restaurants by car i would eat shashlik kebab curry and other delicacies to my hearts content.
they are my graphic memories unbelievable and unforgettable. sometimes i heard of shah of iran from my friend bassim. he had gone there before many times. i never thought it was recent then. i went to persian gulf knowing nothing and lived there knowing nothing. six months after i resigned since i could not tolerate my indian friends and their values; neither could i tolerate inhumanity from the bosses towards them although i was not touched. i did whatever pleased me. i was allowed. many days i would not leave my home. if i come it would be very late. i loved my loneliness in my village. for a while they tried to bring me to city near office but i refused. nor did i get a car but preferred walking. bassim was given to me as my friend and constant companion. he had a car being from a rich family. i had my fascination for a beautiful girl who could hardly speak english. my secretary. our computer manager sayed ali's niece. i lived there another years
till i was bored. i left. several months after my indian friend sent me the money i did not collect, a month's pay. my friend is 74 now but still lives there! long after i left, arab spring was brutally suppressed in bahrain. i lived in bahrain with very young friends and i enjoyed what they enjoyed there. fishing and being driven by them for my whims. i did not know islam and it was not necessary since they discussed with me tagore gandhi yoga. strangely i remember when i was for a few days in moscow the customer buying my software was interested to talk about yoga with me. but then i was doing that for very many decades. i was trying to be squint eyed and exercising to send my both eyes at the back of my head. before time.
for three nights i breathlessly read satrapi and her world! this world i did not know. my next door neighbor about 17 years back was irani, ben. his wife, mona told me she does not like iran or to go there. she cannot wear black cover. her parents came here once. she is in seattle or somewhere now. ben has gone back to syria at least 15 years ago. she never went. ben showed me once a collection of videos he had of shah of iran. i truly did not know when was that time and i was approximately within 100 miles away living in bahrain. bahrain then did not have the causeway to dahran. reading satrapi, i realized how unrealistic i was. my world did not have iran. although i read so much of iran and poets from iran. reading satrapi, i learnt about iran trapped in communism and religious oppression not very long ago. i learnt how successfully west created a dummy shah to ruin iran. i also learnt after revolution to create 8 years long devastating war of with million dead with another made up dummy sadat hussain. i have seen many dozens films from iran but did not understand. as much as i do not understand hindutva or any religion. politics of religion in india or anywhere in the world!
i just finished the second part satrapi this time in film. her adolescent days in austria france etc.her homeless status and sickness. then shewishd to come back to iran in early 1990. this time she learnt to draw cartoon and animation. a short marriage and some more problems with religious iran. she was well supported by her family. her family too found out iran cannot be her home. she was arranged to go to france.
satrapi about half my age was unable to understand persepolis the old iran of her childhood that changed entirely too soon; i do not recognize indiastan or hindutva polis to day where i had lived for 50 years; and i could not ever believe that i would not even dream to visit that place again in my life. if india is not anther iran without revolution or western interference! i understand no indian. everyone of them. satrapi still could understand her family grand mother and whole lot of her distant family. i have not met even one indian living in india or abroad from my family or friends with whom i would like to be part. i cannot accept them as they are as me. i fell through a hole through in india; and i can never return ever. language barrier.
is it my innocence and knowledge about my innocence? untouchable
i am not bright enough to know me. I have eaten me like white ants for 7 decades in ten million words. nothing terrestrial exists in me. what about my concept of female as designed by me. they do not hold me enthralled however assisted by my taste buds. for many decades i was a rice eater and rice eater only. my fascinating food was khichuri. but more than a year i have stopped eating rice an khichuri. my knowledge of both does not allow me imagine any more rice based food item.
i took three more days i finished two of her comics ~ embroidery and persepolis 2. my eyes giving me discomfort. they were in black and white and writing is not very legible. what i came to know is about iran and how it is facing its economic crisis and political crisis. i do not much know about hindutva agenda of bjp rss but i was able to imagine the similarity. crisis is economic. satrapi's struggle to be woman to regain her freedom of expression as woman in world where religion is enforced to implement poverty and economic sanction and war devastated economic progress and technology.
this girl faced in her own lifetime of youth of 25 years so many cultural change that she could not adjusted to. i was constantly reminded of mona. whatever little interaction i had with her. i am naturally shy and respectful to woman. i in fact avoid interaction with them. i love and respect them and not not curious about them about their sex. in bahrain girls were curious about me but i was not. every occasion i realized my love respect and ideas for them is not inherited by them. even it was so for my daughter. till i retracted myself and did not look for my ambitions fulfilled by them.
perhaps i failed to realize my dream home. my disappointment is with my male friends too. they are too not enjoying and sharing but in competition. am i the one in competition?
this girl is still young. born in 1969. as teenage girl she lived in streets of vienna several months. broken relationship. back to iran and studies. marriage but unsustainable and back to europe as grown up and stable to stand on her own merit. i remember mona too came to do her university studies in US. his husband ben was a man of the world. he had his dual appearance and advised me so. he told me to be christian by name and tongue. of course that was unthinkable for me. ben went back to syria about 10 years back. i of course did not keep in touch with them. i had a different agenda. i was not looking to make a home. i was interested to make a home around me ~ i did not mind any sacrifice ~ i did mind compromise!
satrapi told a story of her own liberation from theocratic iran. finding her expression in cartoon and comics.
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