"To the common man, whether you're a musician or a clown, its one and the same."

Marjane Satrapi's account of the life and death of her uncle, the celebrated musician Nassar Ali Khan, portrays a very strange portrait of depression and melancholia.



The tale is one of a man in search of meaning in life drowning in melancholy. Nassar Ali Khan's story is slowly related over a week as he has given up on his life. One by one, loved ones and their memories come back to him, some telling him to "come back to life". Unfortunately, as we see, Nassar has deep-rooted issues that start from a very young age: a mother who let him go before he did, a lost lover, a broken instrument, an unhappy marriage.



Whether or not our central character made the right call isn't for the reader to decide, for our thoughts wouldn't change the inevitable. Yet, the illustrations and writings do speak of a very distinct hollow felt inside every depressed person. Some try to give it meaning: fill it with music, some with books, some with love or religion. I believe that we all feel a bit akin to Nassar Ali Khan in some way. Maybe we can find stronger will and purpose.