#do i need to master an instrument? should i learn poetry first? am i supposed to master music theory?

[sloaaaa]

back to wanting to learn how to make musiicj.. but everytime i try startign i hit a wall right awaey. wher do i even start T^T

[humansofhds]

Naman Patel, MTS ’21

“It was beautiful to see my connection with Emerson, someone who intellectually influenced and inspired me to listen to my own light and make way for my own creative impulses. Then to end up in the institution that he attended, it comes full circle.”

Naman is a second-year master of theological studies candidate studying South Asian Post-Colonialism.

Emerson as a Guiding Light

I’m born of two Indian immigrants. They found their footing here in their early twenties and gave birth to me in New York and there I had a very interesting high school experience. That’s also the roots for my engagement with hip hop culture and black culture at large, because the school was split between an affluent white community and a black community and some brown kids. But, there was no place for me in the affluent white community, and I saw home and family among black kids who engaged with me, so rapping after school was the everyday.

I was really informed by the pressure that brown kids put on themselves about what they should do professionally, which is to become a doctor, an engineer, or a lawyer—that standard narrative. For me, I was going to be a pharmaceutical patent attorney because I saw in the pharmacy industry a huge lie, so I thought it would be really cool to go in there and break it down.

Then at some point that stopped making sense to me, so I transferred to Brandeis University, and I did that because I took this course called “Death, War, and Terrorism.” I realized that school can be an experience where you are in a seminar, the teacher lectures, but asks a series of questions and forces you to think of things. This is very new when you’re coming from science because science is very pedagogical.

Right before, I read Emerson’s Self Reliance and some of Emerson’s other work and he was hugely influential to me. The one quote that sticks with me is that he draws out this scene where a baby conforms to no one, but all conform to it, so in a room full of adults, the adults will begin to crawl and prattle with toys. This image was really beautiful and to me at least, it could explain the way I could think about the attitude and direction of innovators today hold, who have the courage to go and do what they want in the way that a baby does.

So then at Brandeis, I start taking a lot of courses in the humanities. I still was studying science and biology. After Brandeis, I do immunology research at Harvard Medical School for two years, investigating alternative means to a standard cancer treatment. During this time, I can’t not be in a place where I can’t have discussions about post-colonial theory, or social sciences, or the humanities at large.

I find my way back because I’m a performing poet in the Cambridge area and after one of my performances I run into some kids who take interest in my poetry. So we strike a discussion and have things to talk about and things to relate to in terms of identity, in particular to South Asia. Then they say, yeah we go to HDS, and I have no idea what HDS is. I keep showing up to HDS and I keep hanging out with them.

One of my friends asked why don’t I apply here. I needed to finish up my research and then I could go to med school though, but then my friend says this. So then I take the GRE, I apply and then I get in to HDS, and I call my parents and tell them I’m not going to med school and then their life dissolves.

One thing that made it more difficult for them to say no to me going here instead of med school, was that the school graced me with a scholarship. So I’m really grateful for that because without that, perhaps it would have been harder for me to say no.

When I was taking German, I took it in the chapel where Emerson gave his speech and that’s when it really clicked to me that Emerson actually went to this school. It was beautiful to see my connection with Emerson, someone who intellectually influenced and inspired me to listen to my own light and make way for my own creative impulses. Then to end up in the institution that he attended, it comes full circle.

Integrating Science Into the Critique of British Epistemology

My study has to do with South Asian Post-Colonial Studies, but specifically I’m interested in the British epistemology of the subcontinent and India in particular, because for me, this is a way by looking at not only the knowledge they produced, but then the knowledge that the subcontinent inherited through the process of nationalism from the Europeans. It is a way to explain a lot of the crises we see in the subcontinent that deal with categories of ethnicity and religion.

This year has been really nice because I am producing a thesis, aggregating the evidence that supports this argument, but I’m taking it a step forward and saying that perhaps a way we can combat this pollutant epistemology is by generating and disseminating alternative knowledge through medias that people are engaging with heavily now, through YouTube and Instagram.

At what point do we have enough concepts that are robust enough to visualize what’s going on, that maybe we can address it? So the way that I think I will continue practicing science, from my Brandeis education, is in my approach is that I see a symptom of British epistemology, I can locate it, I can see how it continues to proliferate, and I can see that I can compete for the attention that it gets and I can compete with the determinative things that it does to nation states.

The Fruition of .1325

I’m an MC and my Instagram is filled with that content in particular. I produce hip hop and have a band called 1325. When I arrived in Boston after graduation to start my immunology research, the research just wasn’t enough and inside I had stories to tell, but I wasn’t adept at a form that I wanted to tell the stories in. I did enjoy writing, but I loved that in hip hop, you could supplement your narrative with extra dimensions, mainly of sound and time.

I had one friend at Brandeis who I used to dance with and who I found out was an incredible musician because I stalked him on YouTube. He was doing sets with Berklee and he was touring India. Afterwards, I kept poking him and he told me to hang out with his friend.

His friend Hani has a very interesting life of his own, but he just came back from Germany. He was supposed to apply to med school, but he just wanted to play piano so well that with piano he could fundamentally play any other instrument. So I just started hanging out with him a lot.

I learned how to rap in a live setting with him and we started performing at open mics and then Ulas, the kid who I was initially poking at, got involved and then we performed open mics. The year before last year, we were featured at an open mic and last year we were asked to perform at the MFA. This year I performed at Terminal 5 in NYC, which garnered 3,000 people and that was an amazing experience.

The band started because I had an interest, but mostly because I had a community that fostered it and encouraged it. On one hand I have the band, Hani and Ulas to thank and then similarly HDS seems like the same thing. You have this deep desire and sometimes you think you’re alone, but then you externalize this and it turns out that they want to hang out with you and then you get put into that space and you have the potential to excel if you want.

I often think about where and who I would be without HDS. HDS gave me the space to take the first step, just for more space and time and allowing for me to think and with other people who are thinking about such creative and tremendous levels.

Hip Hop as a Form of Narrative

Me being a hip hop artist ties into the dissemination aspect of my academic interests because I think historically hip hop and rap has been the means by which analytic critics have been able to compose their observations into songs that are received by people.

In the beginning, if you make your music about joy and it draws people, then they trust you. You can take liberties about what it is you’re saying to them, but if you do it from the onset, perhaps you might not get listened to. I don’t want to have the megaphone of do this and don’t do that because I don’t want to lose interest.

It’s very important that I’m appealing to a broader range of people because the music is giving joy, but it’s doing it on different terms that’s conscious of how something that is popular and that can be listened to all the time can have a substantial impact on how people are socialized. So in that sense I can compete with other popular music that’s also doing the same thing, but I can show that it doesn’t have to be an integral, essential component of it.

The other things that I’m trying to do in the music is that I’m rendering experiences and thoughts on my own. I’m very inspired by Jay-Z who very simply takes his same narrative and then re-renders it. The idea with poetry is that poetry is not necessarily innovative, it’s just taking tropes and redeploying them beautifully and more beautifully. The tropes that I’m giving a lot of weight to is about self-reliance, overcoming odds, compassion, being conscious, being empathetic.

I am working on celebratizing myself and becoming famous. I don’t think this is a matter of luck. I’ve looked at it enough to see that there are certain things you have to do and you do them and then you’re famous. I’m working on that with the purpose that be the mode in which I can disseminate knowledge. HDS has been an instrument to the realization of my dreams.

Interview and photos by Kaitlin Wheeler

[aj-the-satyr]

Echoes of memory

(Day 9 of @thenightofthelivingwriters series of prompts for October. I have to smile about how many of these are leading to me writing snippets about one of my D&D Characters, a Ratkin Bard. Since the word for today is Music it’s not hard to tell who this will feature is it? :) Onward with the words!)

Maximus huffed as he picked himself up brushing aside yet another daily interaction with fellow students. Why him? He frowned as the answer very easily presented itself. Unlike some of the other odd students like the Dragonborn he was weak, easy to bully. He’d never been strong like his clan mates and was overlooked by the elders so never got to do more than dabble in their arcane teachings. He thought that by going his own way he could find a way to overcome this weakness of body, find a way to gain strength, to overpower others. A smile crept across his rodent features as he remembered his first meeting with Noxwell......

...

The music was there. The snow sought to soften it, hide it almost but it was definitely there. It was a faint plucked instrument of some kind playing a rather lonely melody. The Ratkin brushed snow off his fur and sought out the source. Someone was playing a sad song in the snow and he certainly knew what it was like to be ignored in the cruel world, perhaps he might find a friend in this place.

It took a while but eventually he came across a young girl playing some kind of handheld instrument. She continued to pluck out a rather sad song as he stood nearby. Eventually when the song came to an end she looked up at him. He offered a smile. “That was.....” He paused. “That was a sad song, but it was also beautiful.”

He got a smile in return. “Thank you.” He noticed her teeth were pointed.

He reached into his knapsack and pulled out half a loaf of bread. “Are you hungry?”

A frown creased her features. “Why are you offering me this? You seem to have little yourself.”

“I have enough to share and that is what matters.”

She blinked slowly as if taking this in, before jumping to her feet. “Come!”

“What?”

“Come!” She repeated holding out a hand.

He shrugged and took her hand, entrusting his life to this strange little girl. If this was to be his end then so be it. Life had been nothing but misery since leaving his clan and going back wasn’t an option anymore. She led him through back alleys and darkened streets that the snow hadn’t quite managed to blanket yet. It was strange. He remembered walking past people but none reacted to him and the girl. Where were they headed?

Eventually they stopped at a doorway that looked just like many others they had walked past. The girl knocked a strange pattern and the door swung back revealing a rather warm looking interior. He noticed that none of the light seemed to spill past the threshold. What was going on?

“Come!” The girl said again before skipping inside. He shrugged and followed.

“Ah! A guest. Giselle tells me that you have an ear for music. Play an instrument yourself?”

The Ratkin blinked at the immediate question from someone he couldn’t yet see. “No.... I..... I try and write poetry.”

“Poetry? Interesting. And what inspired this?” The voice was getting closer.

The Ratkin sighed. “Looking at the arcane books I was forbidden from touching. The way things seemed to always be written in odd ways and not straightforward instructions.”

A laugh. “Ah! Some of the old coots never tire of making their books into more riddle than magic. Loosing some wonderful spells and tinctures that way, because they feel more inclined to keeping their secrets than making sure others learn the craft. Name’s Noxwell. And you are most certainly the most interesting person I’ve had enter my little shop in a long while.”

“Er.... Prekk..... that is.... I’m called Prekk, at least in Skritt.”

“Skritt? Not familiar, but unlike some of those old coots I mentioned I never bother to pretend I know it all. A fine name for a fine gentleman.”

“I....”

“Nonsense. Giselle excels at reading people Prekk, no denying your heart or the fact that a great capability for malice lies within you also.”

Prekk slumped a little. “I’m sorry...... I...”

More laughter. “Nonsense. You are who you are. You did not need to offer Giselle your food yet you did so. I sense the Malice will only be turned against those that truly deserve it.” The voice finally came into the light and Prekk could see a rotund man, balding but with a long white beard. “Well? Do I look like I sound?”

Prekk considered this. “With what you have told me I think you and Giselle can look like whatever you wish. Plus I’m a giant rat trying to make my way as a poet. Nothing in this world is what it seems.”

More laughter. “Good, good. Now here’s the thing would you gift us with one of your poems and in return we shall grant you something that will help you.”

“Do I get to know what it is beforehand?”

Noxwell seemed to consider this. “Worried about making deals with strangers?”

Prekk smiled. “You have basically confirmed yourselves to be shapeshifters, Fae I would suspect at this point, and that would make you notorious for offering deals with unexpected downsides.”

“Well. Aren’t you quite the clever mortal? Why follow Giselle then?”

Prekk shrugged. “Curiosity, a lack of care for what happens to me, some mad urge? Who knows? I am just glad to be out of the snow, if only for a little while.”

“You are most curious.”

“Thank you. Guess with what I’ve said it makes my questioning the deal all the more..... moot. I will trade my art for yours.”

“Art?”

“Is that not what was offered?”

Noxwell smiled broadly, his teeth were just as pointed as the girl’s. “Art thou sure of this mortal?”

Prekk nodded. “Yes.”

“Then by all means. Show us your art.”

“There are those that while away, In shadows and in between, The very threads that Fate tries to weave, And would rather be unseen.

Beauty have they that live this way, But far beyond the norm. Cold as Ice, cruel as fate, Yet somehow remaining warm.

Deals they make, trades they like, But be wary for they try, To catch you while you’re unaware, But they never lie.

Power lies within those hands, And if you are nice, It will be granted to thee, But for a terrible price.

So wary be of deals you make, With those that hide this way For lives will change when you doth meet, A member of the Fae.”

Prekk bowed a little after finishing and looked at Noxwell trying to gauge his reaction. The old man’s grin seemed to grow wider.

“Splendid. Well remembered.”

“Not remembered. Written, well spoken. I suppose I should write that down.”

Noxwell frowned. “I thought for sure......” He waved a hand and a book leapt into it. He flipped through its pages. “Well.....” He lowered the book. “Master Prekk.” He bowed low. “That is indeed a fine example of your art. I’m afraid that you will never be able to write that down, part of the deal I’m afraid.”

Prekk nodded. “Well I am glad that you are happy.”

“Indubitably. That was wonderful and not rehearsed. No, it is true art that thou hast given us this day. You have earned yourself a boon today. What do you seek?”

“To be successful with my poetry and be strong enough that no one will be more powerful that I.”

“Interesting. The first is easy, I shall merely give you a starting point. As for the second Giselle has something for you.”

Prekk spotted the girl again and she had in her hands a box. She offered it to him. He took it. Inside was a bracelet made to look like a coiling snake. “What is this?” He asked.

Giselle smiled. “A tool to teach you about power.”

“Ok. How do I put it on?”

“It’s magic. It will fit you.”

“Ok.” he looked a little unsure but plucked it from the box with his right hand, it immediately slithered around his wrist and grew tight. “AHH!” He dropped the box and collapsed to his knees as the snake seemingly tried to squeeze his hand off his arm. His breath came in gasps but eventually the pain subsided and the bracelet settled into a better fit. “How......?” he began.

The girl just smiled. “You will learn in time.”

Prekk just nodded. He had just made a deal with the Fae. Who knew where his life would lead next.

Noxwell helped him back to his feet and gave him a sealed letter. “Take this to the Bard college in Weirvas this will get you started on the path you seek, but be warned this path is hard and will try to break you.”

“Nothing is ever easy is it?”

Noxwell laughed. “No it is not. Beware though you have entertained me and thus I may well call upon you again.”

“More art trades?”

“Perhaps, we shall see. For now you need rest and food. That we shall provide, free of any bargains or plays for power. There will be much time for that later in your life.”

...

He reached out and touched the snake bracelet on his right wrist. It had indeed taught him a great deal, it may prevent him from getting physically stronger but that merely taught him to rely on his other strengths. He smiled as the memories faded away slowly, an old life complete with an old name. He was Prekk no longer. Now he was Maximus Delapore and no amount of idiotic bullying would prevent him from achieving his goals.

(Right..... that took an interesting turn and made me write a brief poem. Cool. I am definitely liking writing for Maximus a lot. Thanks again to @thenightofthelivingwriters for the prompts and the usual tags for Maximus of @the-bearded-hylian and @jaimistoryteller and a big thanks to all the writers out there creating worlds and characters. Keep on kicking words and taking adjectives!)