Addicted to Dariush
He sings about what he believes in
August 11, 2004
This past July 24th was another Dariush concert in
LA. The only one I have missed for the past five years.
I must have been 11 or 12 when with Bahram, my cousin, used to
stand in line for Dariush's newest album. Those days they were
coming out in cassettes.
Like any teenager who hungers sad songs and thinks the whole world
is against them, I became addicted to his voice. It was a different
need to listen to his songs than coming across Googoosh's music
or Satar -- or even Ebi. Dariush started sounding about issues
I really cared about: my country.
We would sit and discuss the so called "meaning" of a
particular song and why he would use the analogies he did. Well,
he sang the poetry by some of the day's most prominent poets, like
Shamloo. To a young mind like mine these poets were opening my
eyes to what was going on in Iran and Dariush helped inject it
into my brain permanently.
Then I came to US with a single suitcase filled with
my '70's clothes, a few gold coins, chains and "Allah" medallions,
and 3 Dariush cassettes. No one else.
I listened to him during my darkest moments when I badly missed
my family and my country. A young man of 17, I cried to
his songs in my small room at the Catholic High School in Kansas.
Years later when I moved to California I started going to his concerts
and only his concerts. I am not much of a "celebrity" follower
and can actually care less what they do and what happens to them.
But Dariush remains the one I am dedicated to.
Iranians -- including my wife and her cousin -- don't really understand
his music or the man. The man could sing about
love and relationships. He could put out a music video with horrible
dancing girls and the worst type of lip-synching known to man kind,
but he sings about what he believes in.
It took me a long time
to get my wife to sit down and really listen to what he sings about.
For the past few years I have managed to drag her with me to the
concerts without her "ghor ghor"!
This last July I missed his concert. It was my birthday and I had
moved to Las Vegas and my friends were coming to spend some time
with me. So, I got some of my friends in the Bay Area, (San Francisco),
to go see Dariush on August 21st.
Faranak, my friend's wife, is taking a young Iranian
lady to this concert. This young
lady, Soheyla, has been dealing with MS (Multiple Sclerosis)
for over 10 years. Soheyla had been following Dariush for decades.
She used to be a groupie and went to all of his concerts
all over the U.S. East Coast, I was told.
She hasn't been feeling well lately and Faranak finally got her
excited about going to Dariush's concert. According
to Faranak, Soheyla's eyes lit up when she heard about the concert.
We were all thinking how nice it would be for him to see her either
before, during, or after the concert. What a boost it would
be to this young woman going through a sour deal in life.
I mentioned to Faranak that it has been a dream of mine
to meet the man and simply thank him for the music. She suggested
that if we manage to get back stage I should take Soheyla
to meet Dariush.
All of a sudden years of wanting to meet him and say a few words
didn't matter much to me any more. I saw a much more
important goal being served here. I told Faranak that I wouldn't
want to crowd Soheyla's moment and it really wouldn't matter
that much to me to see him back stage. I think the purpose
would be served better for her to get some energy
from him, if we manage to get the two together.
So, I hope she gets to see him and tell him what he meant in her
life. I can wait a few more years.
For those of you, including my wife's cousin, who thinks Dariush
goes on a "manbar" (soap box), yes he does. If you
really listen to what he has to say on that box, maybe you can
understand his songs and the depth in which they are presented.
At the concert, my wife is going to be next to me again so will
her cousin. My wife won't look at me and wonder what's wrong when
like thousands in that room. She'll kindly wipe my tears, hold
my hand and shed a tear herself. She understands. [See followup: