4
V has started this blog where you write very, very, very short stories within or around 55 words on a particular theme for that day and mail them to him(vivek dot tejuja @gmail.com) and he puts them all up together, theme-wise. I'd say it's the Haiku of the prose online-world.
Reading these stories together, I come across as a monogamy-screwing, adulterous, relationship breaking bitch, don't I?
Following're the two stories I contributed, the former on the theme of 'Cooking' and the later on 'Monsoon'.
On their anniversary, he cut himself twice while cooking a surprise dinner for her. Tortelli di zucca. He knew her weakness for all things Italiano. She came as night fell and he brought in the ravioli. "We've to talk." The love affair ended when she left him for the neighbour. The neighbour was an Italian.
The rain had drenched her by the time she'd reached his apartment. He was not home, being still stuck in the traffic. She got out the spare key he'd given her. Drying herself, she looked for clothes in the closet. His were a few sizes too large for her. She settled for his wife's instead.
Reading these stories together, I come across as a monogamy-screwing, adulterous, relationship breaking bitch, don't I?
2
This was the first book on psychology that I ever read and I remember it was in November 2011 when I picked it up from a second-hand bookshop in Pan Bazaar – my most favourite area in any city, i.e. after Police Bazaar in Shillong and M. G. Road in Bangalore. The book belonged to a H. Das/Dass/Dhas of Dibrugarh who had bought the book for Rs. 3.00 (good old cheap days, I bought the same copy almost 40 years after for Rs. 30). There’s also a seal of the Dibrugarh Library, so it came into the library’s possession too some time before coming to the second hand bookshop’s in Guwahati. The amount of history one second-hand book can’ve! Also, this book had been one of those few Out-Of-My-Comfort-Zone books for me. Definitely Out-Of-My-Comfort-Zone.
The Three Faces of Eve is the real life story of Chris Costner Sizemore, a woman from 50s South Carolina, USA, who was diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder, sometime now known as Dissociative Identity Disorder (hail Wikipedia). Her real identity was kept a secret from the public eye, from the book’s first publication in 1957 till 1975 and since my copy of the book is from ’61 (vintage!), she’s referred to as Eve White here, while the two other inhabitants of her mind and body’re called Eve Black and Jane. Eve White is a timid, hard working woman whose most defining role in her life is that of being a mother to her daughter, Bonnie. Her marriage is on the rocks and she worries for her daughter. After complaining of severe headaches and blackouts, she visits a psychiatrist, before whom Eve Black emerges and for the first time let’s her existence known, even though she claims to be existing alongside Eve White since childhood, without ever coming under anyone’s notice. Eve Black is the very anti-thesis of Eve White, a woman in sharp contrast to the later in her confident, flirtatious and frivolous nature. The psychiatrists believe her to be the manifestations of Eve White’s repressed feelings. Both the personalities’re thought to be imbalanced in their own ways, one overtly serious and maternal with her feelings, with no real love left for her husband and the other too frivolous than necessary, one who flirts with unknown and potentially dangerous men with subtle hints of ‘something more’, only to turn them down at the end. While Eve White has no recollection of what Eve Black does when she comes into dominance, she has to clear the many tight situations her twin leaves her in. Eve Black does not think of Eve White’s husband and daughter as her own and hates the restriction Eve White’s conventional life puts on her. After a few months, up to when Eve White has separated from her husband and is working and living independently, the third personality appears. She is Jane, the most well rounded personality of the three. Unlike the other two, she’s ‘born’ just when she appears before the psychiatrist for the first time. While Eve White can’t read Eve Black’s thoughts and access her memories, in turn Eve Black can’t do the same in Jane’s case, while Jane gets to know what the other two’re thinking. What later follows is how the three very different personalities cope with their very unique situation and ultimately who rises triumphant over the complete control of the mind and the body.
This is the first review of the Books of Exile series, books I read during my mini-make-belief exile in Guwahati. The reviews're in no particular order and I hope the publishers/authors of the books notice my reviews and send me gifts for pimping their books for free.
The Three Faces of Eve - Corbett H. Thigpen
and Hervey M. Cleckley
 |
| Didn't he've a fine handwriting? Was definitely NOT a doctor. |
This was the first book on psychology that I ever read and I remember it was in November 2011 when I picked it up from a second-hand bookshop in Pan Bazaar – my most favourite area in any city, i.e. after Police Bazaar in Shillong and M. G. Road in Bangalore. The book belonged to a H. Das/Dass/Dhas of Dibrugarh who had bought the book for Rs. 3.00 (good old cheap days, I bought the same copy almost 40 years after for Rs. 30). There’s also a seal of the Dibrugarh Library, so it came into the library’s possession too some time before coming to the second hand bookshop’s in Guwahati. The amount of history one second-hand book can’ve! Also, this book had been one of those few Out-Of-My-Comfort-Zone books for me. Definitely Out-Of-My-Comfort-Zone.
 |
| How did it travel all the way from Dibrugarh Library to a Guwahati second-hand bookshop? |
The Three Faces of Eve is the real life story of Chris Costner Sizemore, a woman from 50s South Carolina, USA, who was diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder, sometime now known as Dissociative Identity Disorder (hail Wikipedia). Her real identity was kept a secret from the public eye, from the book’s first publication in 1957 till 1975 and since my copy of the book is from ’61 (vintage!), she’s referred to as Eve White here, while the two other inhabitants of her mind and body’re called Eve Black and Jane. Eve White is a timid, hard working woman whose most defining role in her life is that of being a mother to her daughter, Bonnie. Her marriage is on the rocks and she worries for her daughter. After complaining of severe headaches and blackouts, she visits a psychiatrist, before whom Eve Black emerges and for the first time let’s her existence known, even though she claims to be existing alongside Eve White since childhood, without ever coming under anyone’s notice. Eve Black is the very anti-thesis of Eve White, a woman in sharp contrast to the later in her confident, flirtatious and frivolous nature. The psychiatrists believe her to be the manifestations of Eve White’s repressed feelings. Both the personalities’re thought to be imbalanced in their own ways, one overtly serious and maternal with her feelings, with no real love left for her husband and the other too frivolous than necessary, one who flirts with unknown and potentially dangerous men with subtle hints of ‘something more’, only to turn them down at the end. While Eve White has no recollection of what Eve Black does when she comes into dominance, she has to clear the many tight situations her twin leaves her in. Eve Black does not think of Eve White’s husband and daughter as her own and hates the restriction Eve White’s conventional life puts on her. After a few months, up to when Eve White has separated from her husband and is working and living independently, the third personality appears. She is Jane, the most well rounded personality of the three. Unlike the other two, she’s ‘born’ just when she appears before the psychiatrist for the first time. While Eve White can’t read Eve Black’s thoughts and access her memories, in turn Eve Black can’t do the same in Jane’s case, while Jane gets to know what the other two’re thinking. What later follows is how the three very different personalities cope with their very unique situation and ultimately who rises triumphant over the complete control of the mind and the body.
Sometimes, facts’re indeed scarier than
fiction and this true story is one such example. The book reads like a
technical psychological manual at times, but it’s the personal story of the
protagonists which keeps the interest going for the layman. Joanne Woodward won
her first Oscar for portraying the role of the Eves and Jane in the film adaption of the book, the first for an actress playing three roles in one
movie. What was absolutely funny in the book though was how the authors, who
were renowned psychiatrists themselves, sarcastically write off Freud and his
interpretation of Dreams, vis-a-vis the dreams Jane used to’ve. Among the gems
that Freud’s school of thinking gave birth to is the belief that every little
girl of under 5 thinks of herself as a castrated boy who’s forever thinking of sexual intercourse with
her father and how snakes in one’s dreams represent male genitals (that kind
of reduces the creepiness of a few of the creepy nightmares yours truly had to dreams
of pure comedy) and father issues, all of which the book prawns at the end. Not
a light read at all and DON’T READ THIS IF YOU’RE UNDER STRESS AND LOOKING FOR
A BOOK TO LIFT YOUR SPIRITS TO MULTICOLOURED RAINBOWS. It just won’t happen.
Other than that, a good introduction to psycho-talk literature.
4
The move to Guwahati had been good for many things (bad for some), the best being the literary part. The months offered ample time to turn some pages and haunt many bookshops. I think I'd be starting a series of book reviews - Books of Exile - of books read when I was in, pretty much an exile. Also some movie reviews. I don't think I ever contributed so much ticket-money to the great Indian film theatre industry ever before than when I was faced with months of zero access to any TV or my computer. A few reviews from there. The laptop of one of my co-exilites conferred some great movie viewing moments too (merci bien J, you know who you're). And coupled with the many incomplete movie reviews drafts, I may well guess it'd be a reviewing overload. Ciao!
I'm obsessed with this song, Bang Bang by Italian origin, Egyptian born, French singer from the 70s, Dalida since I saw Les Amours Imaginaires a few days back. The sequence is from the same film, and all the slow motion is pretty sexy to my eyes. A review of the film'll be appearing soon.
I'm obsessed with this song, Bang Bang by Italian origin, Egyptian born, French singer from the 70s, Dalida since I saw Les Amours Imaginaires a few days back. The sequence is from the same film, and all the slow motion is pretty sexy to my eyes. A review of the film'll be appearing soon.
0
Listening to this, all I can say is that it has been a long journey from Love Story, isn't it, Taylor?
0
It's been quite a while since I last posted anything here. We can blame it on my oh-so-(non existent)-busy schedule. But then, since a bit of honest goes a long way (I hope it does), let my ever present procrastination be blamed. Having covered that part, let's move on.
It is a new year, so a happy very very belated new year. It might be 2012, but my mental calendar is still set at 2011. 2011 was a very very important year to me. Moved out of my nest, made new friends, re-discovered old ones in new lights, learnt that sometimes letting go is the only way and that sometimes, letting go is less important and more impossible. The timing of this post is very funny too, I'm ending my almost-year-long stay in Guwahati in literally a couple of days. Guwahati is a nice place to be in and has given me a lot of memories. Some of them'll last a lifetime.
Coming from a smalltown in a remote region of the country, live concerts've not been the most frequent presence in my life. The only one I remember attending before coming to Guwahati was a concert by Jal a few years back, where they sang their version of Vital Signs' cult anthem 'Dil Dil Pakistan', making it 'Dil Dil Pakistan, Jaan Jaan Hindustan' before it caused too much controversy in Pakistan and became too life threatening for them to sing anymore. Many more came, but none that I was interested in awfully. So the second live concert that I ever attended was Anoushka Shankar's at IIT Guwahati's 4 day long fest, Alcheringa. And to say that it was amazing'd be an understatement. I was always interested in World Music, but experiencing it live was another thing altogether! The lady singing with her in Spanish was so amazing, so were the accompanists with their instruments. An amazing night, it'd be remembered as. The evening after the next, a battle of bands happened and the sheer awesomeness of the bands from all over the country playing there was too much to describe that I'd let it pass. A friend almost lost his head head-banging. Another highlight'd be open partaking of...ah, *cough* grassweedtreeleavesseeds *cough* something on the institute campus, but that's for later.
The Quaff Theatre Group
On the evening of the last day, Quaff theatre group staged their awesome play-within-play play, 'The Real Inspector Hound' based on the play by multiple Tony and Oscar winning playwright, Tom Stoppard.
It was there I had my first 'oww-mai-Gawd-that's-a-Bollywood-isstar' moment, unless you think watching Mukesh Khanna blackmail kids to blackmail their parents to vote for Congress'd qualify for that, but then he was just Shaktiman and the coolest velvet wearing superhero ever. Like my previous long sentence may infer, I was very excited by it (poor my small-town self) and I should be, that was one of my most favourite actresses, Kalki Koechlin. The guy who played game addict Zubin Shroff in Shaitan, the ex Channel V VJ, Neil Bhoopalam was in the play too. I'm no high-brow theatre reviewer, unlike 2 of the characters in the play, so let it suffice that it was a riot, in a good short of way. The auditorium was full, which was a suprise considering what someone said, Art is not for the masses and all that. But that could also be accredited to the sultry Kalki Koechlin and her multiple onstage kisses. It was also around this time that I learnt the valuable life lesson of watching where you're seating but we won't be elaborating on that because of some painful memories of the blogger related to that. :|
Orphaned Land at Alcheringa. Hail my mobile phone camera.
Moving on, the closing act of the fest was Israel's top progressive-rock band, Orphaned Land. Steven Wilson is their producer, so obviously they had to be great. Which they were. Just that I found Anoushka Shankar far more entertaining and given a choice, I'd choose to watch her play again instead. But nonetheless, they rocked. I think I was going there with Porcupine Tree in my head and so boo to my unrealistically high expectations. The one track that I loved the most, pardon my not knowing the name, began with a traditional middle eastern stringed instrument. It was exotic and it was metal. Go youtube now!
The other thing that passed recently, well almost recently, was Republic Day. Now, in the calendar of an average patriotic Indian, it figures directly after Indo-Pak cricket matches, 'Lagaan' reruns on the TV and Independence Day in necessarily that order. Which was odd here in Guwahati because THE CITY WAS DEAD. We in the Southern Assam always used to hear about how on every Independence Day and Republic Day, all those myriad insurgent groups having all the abbreviated names in the world ban the said days in Northern Assam, especially Guwahati but to experience it first hand was strange. Partly because Independence/Republic Day have been permanently etched on my head with garish dances numbers on those same 5 or 6 'patriotic' songs (Rang De Basanti, Vande Mataram, Des Rangila et al) and people going about the town shouting out their love for the motherland and generally irritating my eardrums. This time, the roads were empeetee. And not because the people of Assam want secession from the Union of India and all that shit ULFA'd like you to believe. It'd because people fear being blown up by bombs by brother ULFA, even though the last bombing happened years back and ULFA is presently dying the slow death it deserves. The people of Assam, along with most of other Northeastern Indians, would very much like to belong to India only, thank you. I guess the psychological scars'd take years to heal. By night though everything was fine and people were again being their dress-like-a-catalogue-model self that most people here're and going for the late night show of 'Agneepath' (which was awesome in the 70s revenge movie way I must say, with two exclamatory marks!!).
Apart from that, nothing remotely exciting happened. At the time of typing this, the blogger'd just come back from the cheap 50 bucks morning show of 'Ek Main Aur Ek Tu' in the multiplex nearby. Detailed criticism and appreciation may follow later, but let it be a review enough for now that it's not a copy of 'What Happens In Vegas' AT ALL and I'd suggest you to watch this in the cinemas only if 1) You've a cheap Rs. 50/100 show option or 2) You're looking forward to spending some mushy quality time with your boy/girlfriend on the Valentine's Eve. The ending is not of a typical rom-com's, thank God for that, and at times it reminded me of '500 Days Of Summer', though not half as good. Not a bad movie at all. I'm just bummed that 'The Woman In Black' didn't release here. Very bummed. Also the fact that within a few days, there'd be no multiplex in the 300 kms radius around me is also positively daunting. This blogpost is already longer than necessary, so I'd take my bummed and daunting thoughts offline, while leaving you with the happiest-sounding song on my playlist. Hopefully the next post'd be soon. And then, I'd've long since left Guwahati.
The Passenger - Iggy Pop
PS: I know my small town hometown sounds like it's the monastary in Tawang on a mountain with tropical jungles around it, but it's not so bad really.
PS2: <3 you, Silchar, despite your short comings. I guess, that's true luuuuve.
It is a new year, so a happy very very belated new year. It might be 2012, but my mental calendar is still set at 2011. 2011 was a very very important year to me. Moved out of my nest, made new friends, re-discovered old ones in new lights, learnt that sometimes letting go is the only way and that sometimes, letting go is less important and more impossible. The timing of this post is very funny too, I'm ending my almost-year-long stay in Guwahati in literally a couple of days. Guwahati is a nice place to be in and has given me a lot of memories. Some of them'll last a lifetime.
Coming from a smalltown in a remote region of the country, live concerts've not been the most frequent presence in my life. The only one I remember attending before coming to Guwahati was a concert by Jal a few years back, where they sang their version of Vital Signs' cult anthem 'Dil Dil Pakistan', making it 'Dil Dil Pakistan, Jaan Jaan Hindustan' before it caused too much controversy in Pakistan and became too life threatening for them to sing anymore. Many more came, but none that I was interested in awfully. So the second live concert that I ever attended was Anoushka Shankar's at IIT Guwahati's 4 day long fest, Alcheringa. And to say that it was amazing'd be an understatement. I was always interested in World Music, but experiencing it live was another thing altogether! The lady singing with her in Spanish was so amazing, so were the accompanists with their instruments. An amazing night, it'd be remembered as. The evening after the next, a battle of bands happened and the sheer awesomeness of the bands from all over the country playing there was too much to describe that I'd let it pass. A friend almost lost his head head-banging. Another highlight'd be open partaking of...ah, *cough* grassweedtreeleavesseeds *cough* something on the institute campus, but that's for later.
On the evening of the last day, Quaff theatre group staged their awesome play-within-play play, 'The Real Inspector Hound' based on the play by multiple Tony and Oscar winning playwright, Tom Stoppard.
It was there I had my first 'oww-mai-Gawd-that's-a-Bollywood-isstar' moment, unless you think watching Mukesh Khanna blackmail kids to blackmail their parents to vote for Congress'd qualify for that, but then he was just Shaktiman and the coolest velvet wearing superhero ever. Like my previous long sentence may infer, I was very excited by it (poor my small-town self) and I should be, that was one of my most favourite actresses, Kalki Koechlin. The guy who played game addict Zubin Shroff in Shaitan, the ex Channel V VJ, Neil Bhoopalam was in the play too. I'm no high-brow theatre reviewer, unlike 2 of the characters in the play, so let it suffice that it was a riot, in a good short of way. The auditorium was full, which was a suprise considering what someone said, Art is not for the masses and all that. But that could also be accredited to the sultry Kalki Koechlin and her multiple onstage kisses. It was also around this time that I learnt the valuable life lesson of watching where you're seating but we won't be elaborating on that because of some painful memories of the blogger related to that. :|
Moving on, the closing act of the fest was Israel's top progressive-rock band, Orphaned Land. Steven Wilson is their producer, so obviously they had to be great. Which they were. Just that I found Anoushka Shankar far more entertaining and given a choice, I'd choose to watch her play again instead. But nonetheless, they rocked. I think I was going there with Porcupine Tree in my head and so boo to my unrealistically high expectations. The one track that I loved the most, pardon my not knowing the name, began with a traditional middle eastern stringed instrument. It was exotic and it was metal. Go youtube now!
The other thing that passed recently, well almost recently, was Republic Day. Now, in the calendar of an average patriotic Indian, it figures directly after Indo-Pak cricket matches, 'Lagaan' reruns on the TV and Independence Day in necessarily that order. Which was odd here in Guwahati because THE CITY WAS DEAD. We in the Southern Assam always used to hear about how on every Independence Day and Republic Day, all those myriad insurgent groups having all the abbreviated names in the world ban the said days in Northern Assam, especially Guwahati but to experience it first hand was strange. Partly because Independence/Republic Day have been permanently etched on my head with garish dances numbers on those same 5 or 6 'patriotic' songs (Rang De Basanti, Vande Mataram, Des Rangila et al) and people going about the town shouting out their love for the motherland and generally irritating my eardrums. This time, the roads were empeetee. And not because the people of Assam want secession from the Union of India and all that shit ULFA'd like you to believe. It'd because people fear being blown up by bombs by brother ULFA, even though the last bombing happened years back and ULFA is presently dying the slow death it deserves. The people of Assam, along with most of other Northeastern Indians, would very much like to belong to India only, thank you. I guess the psychological scars'd take years to heal. By night though everything was fine and people were again being their dress-like-a-catalogue-model self that most people here're and going for the late night show of 'Agneepath' (which was awesome in the 70s revenge movie way I must say, with two exclamatory marks!!).
Apart from that, nothing remotely exciting happened. At the time of typing this, the blogger'd just come back from the cheap 50 bucks morning show of 'Ek Main Aur Ek Tu' in the multiplex nearby. Detailed criticism and appreciation may follow later, but let it be a review enough for now that it's not a copy of 'What Happens In Vegas' AT ALL and I'd suggest you to watch this in the cinemas only if 1) You've a cheap Rs. 50/100 show option or 2) You're looking forward to spending some mushy quality time with your boy/girlfriend on the Valentine's Eve. The ending is not of a typical rom-com's, thank God for that, and at times it reminded me of '500 Days Of Summer', though not half as good. Not a bad movie at all. I'm just bummed that 'The Woman In Black' didn't release here. Very bummed. Also the fact that within a few days, there'd be no multiplex in the 300 kms radius around me is also positively daunting. This blogpost is already longer than necessary, so I'd take my bummed and daunting thoughts offline, while leaving you with the happiest-sounding song on my playlist. Hopefully the next post'd be soon. And then, I'd've long since left Guwahati.
The Passenger - Iggy Pop
PS: I know my small town hometown sounds like it's the monastary in Tawang on a mountain with tropical jungles around it, but it's not so bad really.
PS2: <3 you, Silchar, despite your short comings. I guess, that's true luuuuve.
