For many of us this site is a place where we can explore the desi experience, not just as it plays out in news or culture, but also on a personal level. As a community we are coherent but not cohesive, united by a diasporic experience but keen to its many variations. What it means to be desi is still very much under negotiation, which is good: it means that we haven’t congealed, nor been taken over by ideological disputes or anointed leaders. This, combined with tools like the Internet which previous diasporas did not enjoy, has helped to keep the conversation open, generally productive, and most important of all, conducive to sharing personal experience.
For some of us, the idea of being desi comes with self-questioning built in, because we are of mixed race and ethnicity, products of unions where one partner was desi, the other not. I know there are a lot of people who read this site who belong to this group, and many more who are having, or are likely to have, mixed children. Among the regulars here who identify as both mixed and desi, the most outspoken in the past year have been DesiDancer and myself in the U.S. as well as Bong Breaker in the U.K.
Recently DesiDancer (portrayed here as a young macaca) and I began a conversation that aims to explore the experience of being a mixed desi in America today. It is also a blog experiment: A different format than usual, and a new way of engaging the many people here who have been so generous and thoughtful in sharing their stories. We are corresponding by IM and editing the transcripts for coherence and pace. And by making it a series, we can absorb your responses to each instalment as we prepare the next.
Today, in “Gettin’ Down with the Brown,” we talk about how we came to identify as desi when we had the choice of not doing so. Later we’ll discuss the ways we — and others — live, deploy, engage our “desi” and “mixed” identities in the world today. Whether you are mixed yourself, or the (potential) parent of mixed kids, or neither, your responses will help shape the discussion. (You may also share thoughts in confidence with either of us.)
So, here goes:DesiDancer: “Dude, you look so exotic… what are you?”
Siddhartha: Exotic, eh? Like you, I’m mixed. My dad is Bengali, and my mother is Jewish American. That’s why I am so “fair.” My aunties in Calcutta always liked my skin color, the fact that it was achieved through miscegenation didn’t appear to concern them.
DesiDancer: Do you know of any other mixed marriages in your family?
Siddhartha: My uncle married a westerner. He is my dadÂ’s only sibling, and older by a few years. He married an Italian woman. It was a little complicated for them, in terms of approval and how they handled it, and my grandmother wasnÂ’t too thrilled. But it ended up paving the way for my parentsÂ’ marriage. Beyond that, I think pretty much everyone else in my Indian family married Indian. I have a female cousin who married a guy who is half-Indian, half-German. They live in Delhi. What about you and your family?
DesiDancer: My dadÂ’s uncle came to the US, several years before Dad did. My uncle met an American woman — I believe at the university — and they got married a few years before my Dad came over. Again, it sort of paved the way for my Dad because when my parents got married it wasnÂ’t something totally new. I donÂ’t know how supportive or unsupportive my DadÂ’s family was… they were always fantastic to me, but IÂ’d be naive if I didnÂ’t suspect there was some talk behind my parentsÂ’ backs. IÂ’m sure it wasnÂ’t easy for them, but then again we lived here, and the family lived in India. As for my generation of the family, weÂ’ll see how it plays out — the cousins in India are all marrying Indian, but the cousins here seem to have a wider perspective when it comes to dating.
Siddhartha: ThatÂ’s an interesting similarity. How big an (Indian) family do you have here in the U.S.? I just have my sister — there are some more distant cousins but IÂ’m not really in touch with them. I guess I should ask how big your MomÂ’s family is in the U.S. as well, since I think you told me your mom was not originally American, but naturalized?
DesiDancer: Up until a few years ago, I thought the only family here from DadÂ’s side was us, and the aforementioned uncleÂ’s family. A few months after I went to India in 2002, I got an email from one of my uncles there. His English is a bit disjointed, so all I could understand was that someone in our family was coming to the US… or something like that. Turns out my dadÂ’s cousin was living in the US, with her family, and theyÂ’d been here for YEARS! So we reconnected, and they introduced me to the rest of the family. Technically all of my cousins here are from my DadÂ’s cousinÂ’s husbandÂ’s side (does that make sense?) but it doesnÂ’t really matter to any of us — weÂ’re more like siblings than anything else. So now I think I could count about 8 cousins, in the rediscovered family, and 3 sets of aunts and uncles. We lost our grandfather last year, but there were 4 generations living here — and unbeknownst to me. My momÂ’s family is in Canada and some are in the US, but thereÂ’s such a huge age gap between me and my cousins on that side… I think itÂ’s 14 years between me and the next oldest (not counting my brother and sister, of course). How about you — is there a lot of family from your momÂ’s side here?
Siddhartha: There is, but IÂ’m not close to that many of them. My cousins are a lot younger than me. A similar situation. Then you get to second cousins and whatnot. I guess what this makes me realize is that IÂ’ve always lived mixedness my own way, by improvisation; I was never part of a “mixed” self-identified community, let alone one with my particular mix. All this being underscored by the fact that I spent most of my childhood years in a third country that was neither my momÂ’s nor my dadÂ’s — France — and further, that I am a bit older than the big wave of desi Americans, since I was born in 1967. So itÂ’s always been a bit of a solo thing, shared only by my sister.
DesiDancer: I was actually just going to ask you that: how did you and your sister identify with your heritage? My brother and sister donÂ’t seem to identify as “mixed” or “Indian”… and itÂ’s never really something weÂ’ve had much dialogue about. I think part of it may be the age differences, and part of it I think might be because I went to India when I was 2, whereas they never went… I wonder if somehow it made such an impression on me that I felt somehow more impelled to get down with my brownÂ…
Siddhartha: Yes, you do seem to be more “down with your brown” than I think I am. But then again, we know each other from SM, which is a place where people are doing just that, so itÂ’s hard to judge. But… I think weÂ’ve always thought of ourselves as Indian, or at least semi-Indian. We too both got to go to India at a young age, I was 6 the first time I went, and she was 1 or 2 the first time she did. On the other hand, we didnÂ’t have any kind of Indian community around us outside of India. We just had what came through my parents, which was my dadÂ’s Hindustani classical music collection, my momÂ’s immersion in learning to cook Indian food, my dadÂ’s general politics and, dare I say, patriotism (he still has just his Indian passport to this day), and the trips back. So there are tons of things I had no exposure to whatsoever. To this day I donÂ’t know a damn thing about Bollywood, or bhangra for that matter.
DesiDancer: For me, all of the brownness was a relatively recent discovery, in my mid-20s or so. I mean, we were aware that we were brown, but growing up in the Midwest, in the 70s and 80s… there wasnÂ’t any Indian community for us to interact with. We had a few 78 records that my Dad had brought over (kidsÂ’ songs and stuff), but for the most part I think the climate when my dad came to the US was more to assimilate than to hold onto their native cultures. Once in a while heÂ’d hit up the Indian grocery and go on a cooking spree, so we knew what dosa and pakoras and stuff were, but we didnÂ’t learn Hindi or grow up watching desi movies, or even celebrating the holidays. I knew what Diwali and Holi were… but we didnÂ’t do anything about it. For years my buas sent rakhi to my dad, airmail. My sister and I would swipe them because they were such pretty bracelets, but we never bought rakhi for our brother.
Siddhartha: So, if you didn’t grow up self-consciously Indian, how would you describe the cultural atmosphere in your home growing up? And how did the notion of brownness—or non-whiteness—come into play?
DesiDancer: Ooh, good question. Because there was more of my momÂ’s family around than dadÂ’s, we celebrated all the usual—Xmas, Easter, Thanksgiving. We were around my maternal grandparents and aunts/uncles a lot more, so we just sort of did what they did. I think my dadÂ’s family was maybe out-of-sight-out-of-mind? We had picture books on India, some Indian art around the house, and my mom even tried to get us childrenÂ’s books with Indian protagonists… But generally speaking we were raised in an Americanized household, for the most part. While thereÂ’s no denying that the 3 of us are brown (one of these things is not like the other) it wasnÂ’t really a factor for us in shaping our childhood identities. Sure you get some idiot in school who wants to know your story, and then either asks if your dad wears a towel on his head, or your mom wears a dot… or they pat their hand over their mouth and do the idiotic rain dance (not that kind of Indian, yo!)… But we didnÂ’t really dwell on it much.
Siddhartha: How about the name thing. You and I both have Indian names. My sister does as well and I imagine your siblings too? Did that get you questions about your origins, and how did you relate to your name as a marker of your identity?
DesiDancer: We all have Indian first names and Angrezi middle names. Which seems to suggest that at the time, my parents were very much about the biculturalism. The name was both a badge and a curse. Obviously I look sort of Indian, so it seemed to “match” that I had an Indian name. But oh my god the teachers in school just could not seem to get the hang of my name! I got called everything, all sorts of mutations and mispronunciations. I think around 7th grade, when kids start to get really vicious, and we all just really want to fit in and conceal our awkwardness I started asking people to call me an Americanized nickname version of my name (Re)… it just seemed easier because at that age I really didnÂ’t want to get into a diction lesson every time they called roll in school. It seemed to stick well because I was a tomboy. But my family always called me by my given name. How about for you? Your name was probably much more of a challenge than mine.
Siddhartha: True dat. I actually don’t have a middle name. I guess my name was a challenge but growing up in France, it didn’t seem to bother my friends and my teachers. They used my full name, just pronounced it as if it were a French name with no effort to learn the “authentic” pronunciation. When I came back to the U.S. for college, that’s when two things happened: 1) Some people became interested in the “authentic” pronunciation, but also 2) Everyone else started calling me Sid.
DesiDancer: Blame “Dil Chahta Hai.” Do you not like “Sid”?
Siddhartha: IÂ’ve written on Sepia before about my struggles with “Sid” or “Sidd” — how I eventually gave into it, used it myself, and it took me years to realize that I could do something about it. I reclaimed it first in my professional life, and then eventually I got everyone in my world to revert to my full name. I sent an email to all my friends, and I got lots of support, as well as other people testifying about their own name issues. Interestingly, after I wrote my post, on that thread everyone called me by my full name, and since then all these people have been using Sid! But itÂ’s one of those things, once youÂ’ve made the effort to reclaim your name, it no longer matters that much what people call you. ItÂ’s no longer that big a deal.
DesiDancer: True. I reverted back to my full name, when I moved to NYC. I figured with a city as diverse as NYC, I wasnÂ’t going to have the freakiest name, so it wasnÂ’t unreasonable to expect people to pronounce it correctly. I still have some girlfriends who call me Re. But itÂ’s contextual — itÂ’s how we know each other — so it doesnÂ’t bother me, but even they try to switch it up. But when I meet new people, I use my full name. I have a friend who was nicknamed “Rick” for years upon years, and heÂ’s tried reclaiming “Rakesh” for at least the last 2 years. It wonÂ’t stick, because all his boyz always call him Rick and refuse to switch. ItÂ’s probably a bit frustrating…
Siddhartha: I bet. If he really wants to switch and his boys wonÂ’t let him, theyÂ’re jerks. So, letÂ’s talk a bit about the process of getting down with the brown. Can you identify the key moments/stages for you?
DesiDancer: Well, I always kind of had the “pull” from India. I donÂ’t know if itÂ’s because IÂ’m the oldest, because IÂ’m a girl, or because I went there when I was young enough to have retained impressions of the trip. And I can see photos of myself in India… I remember people or things… so I always asked about India as a kid, and wanted to go back. But after junior high school (and the great name change) I didnÂ’t really actively pursue the topic much. It was in the back of my mind, but I was probably more concerned with fitting in than pushing the issue…
Siddhartha: So, did things start to happen in college?
DesiDancer: After. My big a-ha moment, as Oprah likes to call them, was around 2001. I went to visit my DadÂ’s uncle & aunt and we were watching a home movie of uncleÂ’s last trip to India. He had gone to a wedding and had run into one of my DadÂ’s younger brothers. So we were watching this tape and my chacha came on screen… My DadÂ’s aunt asked me, “When was the last time you went to India?” and I told her, when I was 2… She immediately stomped her foot and directed her husband to take me to India that fall — he was planning on going back anyway. It was kind of the green light I needed to jump into the discovery of brownness. It wasnÂ’t that it was off-limits or a no-no topic in our house, but we were told 100 times over that we werenÂ’t going to visit India, ever. So I forgot about it as a possibility until that conversation with my dadÂ’s aunt & uncle. I spent the next 8 months trying to contact family in India.
We hadnÂ’t really kept in touch with people there, but my DadÂ’s uncle found the address for our family house in Dehradun, so we sent an aerogram over and waited to see if anybody wrote back. My Chacha still lives in my DadajiÂ’s house, and so he emailed us both back, and also sent me the email addresses for my cousins. When I went to India at 2, I only had one cousin who is 4 months younger than I am. Since then, I have 10 cousins, all slightly younger than me (20-29) and I had no idea! I started emailing with a few of them, and it was really the coolest, most welcoming experience. My cousins have a lot to do with why IÂ’m so fond of my family and of India. They were so enthusiastic and awesome — we emailed all the time, back and forth, and right around then IÂ’d started trying to watch Bollywood movies (I think Lagaan and Monsoon Wedding had just come out, and I was SO thrilled to see an entire movie with brown people in it) and learn some Hindi. So even before I went to India, IÂ’d started bonding with my cousins over email. WeÂ’d send pictures to each other, my one cousin is an artist so she scanned in some of her work and emailed it to me, weÂ’d argue over SRK and Hrithik, and because they were so open with me, it was really easy to ask my most ridiculous questions and not feel stupid for it.
And when I did go to India that fall, it was the most amazing thing — despite having never met my cousins, I truly felt like we werenÂ’t meeting as strangers because weÂ’d bonded so much before I got there. IÂ’d tried to learn some Hindi, and they were great about teaching me the slang or not making fun of my crappy grammar, and we just had the best month together! It was almost as if weÂ’d grown up together… and because of that weÂ’ve been able to keep in touch for the last four years, despite some of us getting married, and the fact that I havenÂ’t been back yet… The two girls, are really special to me, because theyÂ’re only a couple years younger than I am. For a girl to have an older sister is amazing, and so I take my role as such VERY seriously. I would do anything for those girls — I was a mess during the Mumbai explosions because I couldnÂ’t reach one of them, in Mumbai. Despite the distance and weird circumstances, IÂ’m closer to them than I am to my brother and sister. So I think a lot of my affection for the desh has to do with the wonderful openhearted love I got from my own cousins. Conversely, I had a chachaji call me a half-blooded witch, so I guess it runs the entire spectrumÂ…
So that was that major turning point in my life. Despite the fact that my dad lost touch with his family and didnÂ’t have any interest in rekindling it, he was very supportive of my trip to India. One of my buas came over for my shaadi, and to see her and my Dad face to face for the first time in over 25 years was just emotionally overpowering. It was the best wedding present ever. Ironically, the Bollywood movies that I studied in preparation for my trip got me hooked. Like crack. I canÂ’t stop watching them, even the really crappy ones… and the dances really got me! ItÂ’s been a really satisfying and strange journey that my life has come full circle in a way. I always danced, since I was 3 or so; I rediscovered my family, which sort of led me to Bollywood, and now it seems the puzzle has come together with all the pieces—as I teach and perform my Bollywood dance. I gained a career, besides a family!
Siddhartha: This is a great story youÂ’ve shared with me.
DesiDancer: I get long-winded sometimes because I think itÂ’s such a cool story. I debate writing a book, but I think my dad would strangle me
Siddhartha: It really is a cool story. IÂ’m interested in a couple things you alluded to — the way your dad burned bridges, or perhaps I should say allowed bridges to fritter away, with India, and along the same lines what you said about being told over and over, growing up, that you wouldnÂ’t go to India. But it makes for a great story. You really got inspired and acted on it and followed through.
For me it was different because we went to India every 2-3 years. And we would go for long stays — three weeks to three months. We usually went to Calcutta, but later my dad, who is a scientist, began to work with colleagues in Bombay and so there were several trips there. In fact, my freshman year of college, my parents and sister spent the year in India and thatÂ’s where I visited them that Christmas. So by the time I was in college IÂ’d been to Calcutta and various places in Bengal, Bihar and Orissa, as well as Delhi and Bombay. At the same time, it was all in function of my family and my parentsÂ’ choices. In college, though, I took a number of classes that were directly about South Asia, or that were relevant (like development economics). I took a class about Hinduism, and one on Indo-Muslim culture.
DesiDancer: So did you grow up speaking Bengali? And, it seems that in your case the brownness was always in the background, but was it in college that you really began to explore that as part of your identity?
Siddhartha: ItÂ’s funny, I was just going to mention language. I grew up, I would say, knowing some Bengali, rather than actually speaking it. During time spent in Calcutta I would be able to say quite a lot, especially the phrases used to make requests of servants.
DesiDancer: Hahahahaha. Chai lao and all that?
Siddhartha: Yeah, all that. My command of kitchen words, foods and so forth, is OK. I probably have 200-300 words of Bangla… and maybe 50 of Hindi.
DesiDancer: We didnÂ’t learn Hindi at all. The only words I learned were the ones my dad peppered his speech with: junglee, bandar, memsahib, suar, courpi (with regard to our need to clip our fingernails)… strangely they were all sarcasticÂ…
Siddhartha: What is Mr. DDÂ’s ethnicity?
DesiDancer: Mr. DD is desi. He came over when he was 3, so he’s about as westernized as I am. A lot of that is why we are great together—he’s not stuck in the old-school mentality and he gets my unusual (bad Indian girl) personality, though he hates Bollywood movies and wants to reclaim control of our Netflix.
Siddhartha: You realize this is very interesting, right?
DesiDancer: He knows more about the culture and traditions, whereas IÂ’m more knowledgeable about the pop culture stuff and the current atmosphere in India.
Siddhartha: And you guys met after you began your re-encounter with India?
DesiDancer: Yeah 🙂
Siddhartha: IÂ’ve dated desi and non-desi of many types.
DesiDancer: It is an interesting twist that heÂ’s desi; I dated all non-desis prior to him.
Siddhartha: And my sisterÂ’s husband is non-desi but theyÂ’ve given their 1/4 desi daughter a desi name. Etc., etc. Lots of dimensions.
DesiDancer: Really? ThatÂ’s cool.
Siddhartha: Yeah. In a way this is where a lot of the SM readership may be interested because it raises issues so many of them are confronting, either as mixed people or as people likely to produce mixed kids. So I’d like to be able to tell people just enough about ourselves, but then really get into the psychological aspects, the tradeoffs, etc—so we can spark some conversation on it.
DesiDancer: Fer sure. So hereÂ’s a question: obviously for our parentsÂ’ generation, especially those in India and their elders, there seems to still be a lot of partition-era separatism with regards to Hindu/Muslim/Sikh/Jain etc., even straight/gay, or the ostracism of those in non-traditional pursuits career-wise or dating-wise. Do you think our generation is freed up from some of those prejudices? Does being mixed ingrain a sense of tolerance in us that maybe some others donÂ’t have? Like, I have Muslim friends, Christian-desi friends, Sikh friends, Jain friends, gay-desi friends, desis with crazy unusual careers, desis who married non-desis… And I know some auntie back home is clutching her chest over it, probably. 🙂 Or we can hit that one later.
Siddhartha: That’s a great question. I think we should hit that one later. Maybe we should finish up the whole “re-encounter with India” bit and pause for today; then on the next convo talk about living desiness as mixed people today.
Meena,
From what you’ve said, your mum doesn’t meet the exacting standards for being a culture vulture in my book (scroll down to “Indian culture”)
I can identify with this, having, as a kid, not liked the fact that my family was not “normal” and I was envious of the kids who spoke the majority language (ironically, for some years, that was Tamil), followed the majority religion or atleast came from some other more fashionable minority. The parents tried their best to give us a Deepavali/Holi etc (I bet desi parents in America try to give their kids a Christmas/Halloween etc.) but that was no help.
But everything changed in the ages 17-21. I totally embraced Hindi, Malayalam, Tamil (can read write and speak all three like a native speaker) and Telugu (accented) and all the cultures and people that came with these (plus liberal dose of Western culture that can also come your way in India). I was not “from” anywhere and there would be always be people who tried to exclude me based on appearance or birthplace or whatever. “Indian” was the only identity that was undeniable and after a few years of living abroad, am happy to expand that to “Desi”. The trick lay in defining myself, rather than looking to someone else’s approval of whatever identity I’d chosen. It really helped that at this time I was in a college which had it’s own slang and where most people didn’t give a damn where you came from.
In your case, I suggest starting with the realization that there is nothing inherently better about being Punjabi/Hindi and the glamor you perceive ultimately just comes from numbers. Then you could start feeling less uncomfortable about having a Tamil background.
Meena,
This is a great point.
Branch Dravidian,
I second your recommendation of Motiba’s Tattoos. I used to drink a lot of Jim Beam. Not a big drinker any more.
… and I second the George Dickel recommendation. A lot better than Jack Daniels (the closest in style as they are both Tennessee Sour Mash whisky) and cheaper too.
Thomas Kurma, much respect. I wish more people were like you.
As an ABCMD [american born culturally mixed desi], I’d like to take a whack at the Bollywood concept as a strange culture barometer. By no means am I suggesting that the genre is “good”, but in the same way that eating fast food can be often as enjoyable as fine dining, sometimes it serves its purpose 😉
Seriously though, I found Bollywood to be a sort of window to the culture that I wasn’t being exposed to at home, or in our community. Obviously I don’t approach it with blanket-acceptance, same as I wouldn’t assume life in NYC is anything like “Friends”. But it was a good gateway to exploring some things I knew nothing about. I don’t view it as a yardstick of “indianness”, in any way. I can objectively understand the soporific or annoying qualities to the genre as well. I’m just more forgiving, especially if there’s a good dance as a decoy.
Pop culture is a tool that sociologists often use to gather insight into a given culture. I remember taking a French class in undergrad that was essentially an examination of the differences between French and American social norms. We actually spent much of the semester comparing French comics (i.e., Asterix) with American comics (superheroes). It was fascinating how much you information one could glean about the culture. Likewise, I don’t think anyone can doubt the impact pop culture has on how people act on a day-to-day basis (e.g., Friends haircuts, hip-hop slang being used in everyday conversation).
Whereas I don’t see Bollywood as reflective of the (southern) “Indian culture” which my family comes from. So it doesn’t have that use for me at all – instead, it could serve to induct me into an American Desi culture which is centered around Bollywood.
true… just to add a minor point. as a kid, when my diet of bollywood was relatively steady, maybe one movie a week … i used to think this isnt real… those were the days i gravitated to disney and wowed at the ‘realism’… now… i look at bollywood and i think… hollywood is all a big snark or special effects, there is no soul… the last hollywood movie i think i truly enjoyed was Big Fish… not that i see many bollywood these days… but sometimes when i catch a bit online… like that dialog from deewar… “…mere paas maan hai” (i have mother)… it REally is a different experience.
Meena:
I see the logic in this, but doesn’t the person have a responsibility to other Indians if everyone else recognizes him/her as “Indian”? Minorities in general have a greater burden of representation because they are usually taken as representative of their whole race/ethnicity/culture. Why else do we cringe when we see Kal Penn taking on roles that reinforce negative stereotypes about South Asians and Middle Easterners? Would it matter to us if he declared, “Yo, macacas, get off my back because I don’t consider myself Indian”?
nope… i speak for myself. i dont want or expect anyone else to speak for me. culture is a human construct, not the other way around. the “worst” i can say is that my ‘cultural’ background has been identified with some other cultural group. I dont see a problem with that. It’s a position of strength – because my profile has merged with another’s and we are all stronger as a result.
i dont cringe, but i dont disrespect you for feeling embarassed – because i was there once. i think i evolved or maybe am just inured to pain or shame.
So Meena – do you stay home from the clubs too because you’re worried about being groped and pawed? Or don’t your parents let you out the door to go to them either?
DesiDancer, I agree that Bollywood can play an important and useful role in familiarizing/re-familiarizing a person to many aspects of India. Even if unintentionally, it does reflect many things fairly accurately about at least northern Indian, Hindi-speaking culture (and current-day Punjabi Hindu culture for that matter), as well as modern, urban middle/upper class India in general as well. When done well, it is a delight…I just saw Lage Raho Munna Bhai, and along with everyone else in the theater, I was laughing the whole time. Bollywood is also a great way to improve your Hindi (as well as pick up a lot of Urdu). This despite the ever-growing amount of English creeping into the dialogues. It displays a lot of great clothing which makes you proud as an Indian (that our culture produced that kind of beauty); and the music/dances can be awesome at times. But it has a lot of flaws, it is doing a certain amount of harm, and I think all aspects of it need to be examined and critiqued.
hairy d,
I don’t think it’s so much an issue of being embarrassed. The fact is that when desis are repeatedly represented negatively, the average American believes what they see, and reacts to us based on that. If desis are always presented as foreigners or terrorists, that’s what the average idiot will think, which makes it more likely that a desi person will face discrimination or be a victim of a hate crime. For me at least, it’s not about embarrassment, I am not embarrassed by other people’s stupidity.
But it has a lot of flaws, it is doing a certain amount of harm, and I think all aspects of it need to be examined and critiqued.
Amitabh,
Filmmaking is not only an artistic expression but a business venture too. We see the world through the lens of BR Chopra, Subhash Ghai, Shyam Benegal, Satayjit Ray et al. Some of it is simplistic, so be it. Some of it is very sophisticated. Also, neither bollywood or hollywood are subsidized, and therefore, they tap in to what the audience wants to see through a very powerful medium.
Whether you like some of it, all of it, none of it is your choice.
Now, let take an example of Deewar. Why is it is a timeless classic?
It is a movie made post-1971 euphoria, and failure of Indira Gandhi’s “garibi hato” slogan. When the movie was made, India as a whole was headed toward failure. Emergency had been imposed (1975-77)……..and you have this angry young man, Vijay who wants to break the shackles, wants his self respect back, and not crushed all the way. Idealism has not took him anywhere, not even evenings roti.
Even rickshaw wallah thinks he could be Vijay (Big B in Deewar) one day, like Rocky Bolboa in Rocky-I when he sees the movie.
This is the dialogue that has made the movie timeless: * main aaj bhi fenke huye paise nahin uthata
(Even today I do not pick up thrown away money.) (Vijay to Dabur seth)
That is why people like Desi Dancer, Filmiholic, me and countless (millions) others are drawn to it. It does not matter Big B is north Indian in real life and he plays Mumbai street kid/ shipyard dock worker. What is the region of Dabur Seth? And Shashi Kapoor is really fair. Who cares?
amitabh, popular culture is just that. the hodge-podge of all that appeals at the basest level to the most. all sub-cultures are satellites to this melange, and can not exist without the base foundation. the need to conform creates the need to resist. so your sentiment is logical and expected. that being said, even as teh sub-culture that you and your community spawn, it creates a tertiary need amongst some who are trapped within your orbit, to break out. the cycle continues and the only constant is the individual who typically stands alone but merges in and dissociates from the pull of those around him to create his environment – this environment is what we call culture.
in an ideal state – i am the average citizen – and thus when i assert my will against bigots, it reflects that of the masses against the misguided few . my point being that one should not need to assert one’s socio-cultural identity in a minority’s adversarial stance – the people are us and we are the people. In am ovie, when i see a person acting the fool or the terrorist, the thing to do is lay this presentation against the template of the african american representation in “birth of a nation” or (to stay topical) the negative character of Lucky Singh in “Munnabhai”. Amardeep has often voiced his annoyance at sikh representation in popular hindi cinema, so i take it that his raving about the movie means that he wasnt seeing Lucky Singh as a Sikh caricature, but as a villain in the movie who just happened to be sikh – i havent seen the movie, so pls bear with me if my extrapolation was off.
It’s not about me personally. I don’t feel embarassed anymore either. Not for Kal Pen or myself. People in my immediate surroundings — even people who don’t know me well — would never say anything racist to my face based on some Indian character they saw on TV or at the movies. But that’s because I’ve come into my own, and I’m militant about social justice. Because of my reputation, people just know not to say anything racist, classist, misogynistic or even gendered in my presence. Should everyone have to be militant like me to be spared from racism? And even in my own case, where people wouldn’t be upfront with their racism, how can I prevent discrimination on an institutional basis?
Sounds like you’re tough to be around.
DeseDancer, you are so right about it providing a window to a culture. No matter how far off Bollywood’s depiction of anything in India is, if one does not have access to India’s language/culture in one’s neighborhood, movies (good and bad) are a good way to keep in touch or get in touch. Bollywood, in particular has been many Indian’s first window to some other parts of India. I’ve never met a Parsi in real life, for instance. But having seen them in movies, no matter what the portrayal, I see them as normal people. Box checked. One more group de-exotified. Good. Ladakhis/Mizos/Oriyas didn’t get their place in Bollywood. So, I’ll have to travel there to do the same with them.
Also good art/bad art, inaccurate portrayal, boring et cetera are not really a problem. If we don’t like it, we don’t watch it – that’s all, isn’t it? The problem is precisely the yeardstick thing you mention. Many don’t use it, but many do.
When I think of my (future) kids, movies seem like a really useful thing. I joke to friends that my biggest fear is that my own kids will accuse me of not being really Indian or being ashamed of my Indianness because I’m not really into Bollywood 🙂
Kush (and Hairy D): I don’t think you guys and I disagree. But a)for every Deewar there are umpteen number of ridiculously horrible movies; and b)Bollywood IS full of grotesque and hurtful stereotypes that impact on real people’s lives on a daily basis.
your point is well taken… but people who do not speak are as bigoted as those who do. one cant change everyone’s point of view. there will always be people who will use the basest, most obscure, irrelevant reasons to coalesce bigots. but to expend energy anticipating and fouling their plans is energy taken away from one’s personal aspirations. fighting against these losers is not a worthy cause, because they are the minority and one must not let oneself be defined by someone so miniscule. it diminishes us. the good fight is to see one’s ideas carried through to fruition. that is something positive. isnt that the hindu way – or so i believe has been stated in the gita. and who’s to say kal penn and jay c are not working towards that. at the end of the day it’s not about who one beat or whether one got beat down, but what one stands for and if one is still standing at the end.
Meena:
(1) Your mother is interested in classical music and dance. If you had followed her in these interests, you could have connected with your Indian heritage a little more strongly. Perhaps classical music and dance are not to your taste.
(2) Some mutineers are very close to their Indian cousins. They say that this closeness has helped them to connect better with their Indian heritage. You also have a cousin, whom you seem to have observed minutely. Nevertheless, you do seem close to her; you do not seem to go shoppping with her; you do not seem to exchange emails with her.
(3) You want to travel to different parts of India, yet you do not badger your parents to take you anywhere. They only take you to relatives’ apartments, and you stay indoors those apartments.
(4) Some mutineers have learnt one (or more) Indian languages, and that has helped them to connect better to their Indian heritage. You do not speak of this.
(5) Do you have a flair for cooking? If so, you could consider learning different kinds of Indian recipes (especially from scratch). That may help you to connect better to your Indian heritage.
(6) Do you have interest in arts and crafts? If so, you could visit trade shows. When I lived in Madras, such trade shows were announced in the Thursday edition of the Hindu. Most of them were in the part of C.P. Ramaswami Iyer road that lies between Music Academy and St. Mary’s Road. Another location was Khadar Nawaz Khan Road, opposite the Taj Corammendal Hotel. There were handlooms, pottery, Thanjavur paintings, batiks etc.
(7) At times, you seem to have given up on connecting better with your Indian heritage. At the same time, you are not completely able to do so: your white boyfriend is only an ex-boyfriend, you docilely let your parents take you to your relatives apartments and you stay indoors all the time.
Bottom line: There are avenues for you to explore. As Siddhartha said, it is a process. Perhaps a lifelong process.
Desi movies provide a solution to another problem which I’m guessing desi kids might face. The cool people on TV and in the movies in America do not look like them. If this leads to feelings of uncoolness/unfashionableness that has been discussed before, seeing a lot of heroes/cool/sexy people (I hesitate to use “role models”) would be great for them. Though the Bollywood people might still not look like your regular desi kid(selective skin color selection etc), I’m sure that’s still a big improvement over seeing only people of other races.
Since coolness to a kid can include fighting off 10 people simultaneously, getting all the boyfriends/girlfriends they want, being kick-ass in flying helicopters etc, Bollywood, in particular would also play a good part.
Would somebody on this forum who grew up in the US say something on this, please. Did it bother you that no one on TV looked like you? Did Indian movies help you feel a little cooler growing up?
She is tough to be around! I should know since I go to school with her. (Shruti, this is Peter…what’s up foo.) And I’m just kidding, she’s not really tough to be around, but maybe that’s because I usually agree with her.
Two arguments on this: 1. Meena is talking about a case where Kal Penn does not view himself as desi, but maybe he’s not doing anything to portray Desis’s negatively.
Meena,
Before we last visited India, my wife, who’s pretty pissed about groping/harrassment learned various ways to kick men in the nuts and to break their noses, which made tourism a lot easier for us while we were there. It was not such an odd thing to do in the Indian eye either. A demonstration of her new skill only earned her the respect of her in-laws 🙂
One practical suggestion for Chennai though – if you’re on a bus/street in Chennai, and you resort to some slapping/nut-kicking, don’t say very much if your accent/choice of language will easily give you away as not a local – just scream and do it. Due to various class issues, this could make a big difference in how others on the scene come to your support or gang up against you. See Mangs’s Train to Chennai to learn a little about crowd dynamics.
Would somebody on this forum who grew up in the US say something on this, please. Did it bother you that no one on TV looked like you? Did Indian movies help you feel a little cooler growing up?
It didn’t bother me until I got older, maybe my late teens or twenties, when I could be more critical and reflect on the images I had been exposed to. As a kid, I just accepted whatever I saw on TV or in movies without questioning it much.
Indian movies did not make me feel cooler (my parents watched Malayalee movies). I didn’t know enough Malayalam to understand the movies, so I was just turned off by them.
Since coolness to a kid can include fighting off 10 people simultaneously, getting all the boyfriends/girlfriends they want, being kick-ass in flying helicopters etc, Bollywood, in particular would also play a good part.
In addition to my above comment, I should add that I agree with you that watching Indian movies is probably a good thing for desi kids growing up in the U.S., for the reasons you mention. I think it’s definitely good for a desi kid to see desis portrayed on screen as something other than what they would see in Hollywood.
This thread now has me reminiscing nostalgically about some of the best Bollywood of the past. Will we ever again see the poetry, maturity, and sophistication that was so evident in this video?
http://youtube.com/watch?v=KkJyMvH4LsU
I was born/raised in Canada. I agree with Rejimon – I only grew conscious that I was ‘different’ from the images I saw on TV in my late teens and twenties. That’s when I bought a Malcolm X t-shirt and started telling the white guy I was dating that he was the devil.
In Canada, of course, we had Ian Hanaman Singh on the nightly news. He was/is/forever will be hot.
Popular Indian movies were never introduced in our home. Instead, my family took me out to see screenings of Satyajit Ray. My mother read Bankimchandra and Tagore, my father read the Upanishads, the Gita, the Dhammapada. We listened to classical Indian music and Rabindrasangeet, and on the weekends went out to hear the sarangi and see kathak/bharat natyam. Result: My parents infected me with a kick ass respect for Indian culture. Meanwhile, in school it was the new era of multiculturalism, and I was constantly asked to give presentations and write essays about India, while my little schoolmates wrote about Ukraine, Poland, England, Singapore, Vietnam. Sound idyllic? In the face of all naysaying, all nasty cracks about Canadian racism (and yeah, there was some of that too), overall – it was.
This is a really enlightening discussion! Thanks Siddhartha and DesiDancer! The similarities between growing up of mixed parentage and having two South Asian parents are striking: the need to access “authentic culture”, determining means to do that, reconciling those limited quantities of cultural elements with our identitities; there is a strong resemblance.
I came to the States before first grade, and I was not bothered that as I was growing up the only people who looked like me were Apu (from the Simpsons) and some guy from one of the Star Trek movies. Far better to have no one like me than terrorist associations (from 24 and Alias, among other shows) that desi kids these days may have to face and answer for in their communities.
I can’t stand Bollywood; I didn’t like it as a child, and I can only tolerate it now. We grew up speaking Marathi, not Hindi, so that was a factor, since most of the places we lived in in the South lacked access to Marathi movies. Now, having seen a lot of Marathi comedies, I think it’s a good thing I was never exposed to them. 😉
Comics initially helped me in my identity formation; that and a love of mythology. The comic characters moved from religious figures into biographies of Shivaji and others, which lead me to find books on these people. My point is that instead of having brown people on a screen that I looked up to, I found some solace in the brown people in the written word who aided my understanding of cultural history.
This discussion has been very enlightening for me. For as long as I can remember, I have juggled two worlds – the western world and the eastern world. As a teenager, I went through stages of questioning everything about me, my family, my religion etc. Fortunately, my parents allowed me to question, prod, deny and argue every aspect of my heritage that did not sit well with me. At the end of the whole process, I came out as an Indian with a lot of western qualities, but an Indian nonetheless. A proud one at that. I owe much of this to my mother, because she was responsible for ensuring that I never forgot my Indian heritage.
It is rather startling that the children of Indian parents share the same experiences as the children of mixed parents. This discussion has been especially interesting for me because I am in a inter-racial relationship and I have often wondered how our children would adjust to the different cultural/racial backgrounds their parents represent. I guess only time will tell..but in the meantime, discussions like this educate all of us and help us find a way to connect with our heritage at the same time allow us to assimilate other cultures, and this can only make us stronger right?
Amitabh (#222)- You’re absolutely right, and I’m not defending the crappy negative movies. Having just watched “Pardes” last night, I spent a good amount of time lecturing Mahima Choudhury on my screen about feminism and equality, and cursing her pansy-ass father for treating her like chattel and thinking that his reputation had more value than his child’s life. But then again, it’s the same old Subash Ghai crap– girl selflessly goes with the “wrong” guy, to save face of her family, drama ensues, women have secondary rights, and some magnanimous father finally says “ok, you can go with the guy you love” and we’re all supposed to clap and whistle at his generosity. Like I said in #27. I can’t get down with the sexism bakwaas.
Thomas Kurma (#225)
I never actively felt like “hey! nobody on TV looks like me!”, however, on the off-occasion that Deepak Chopra or somebody would be on TV, I’d immediately perk up and think “w00t brown people!” [though w00t wasn’t around, back in the day] I knew that I looked different, but I wasn’t really mindful about brown representation in the MSM til I graduated high school. Probably because through Jr. High I just wanted to fit in without having to give a cultural discourse. In my early 20’s, I felt the same way in desi crowds, ironically. (yes, I’m desi, please don’t pop-quiz me about how much…)
Amitabh, your little soliloquy sent me on a tangent last night. I did a quick trot throug youtube just to see what all classics have been sampled online. i had this wonderful discovery and it brought back memories. this is a clip from the movie ‘hindustan ki kasam’. it was several years old even when i saw it, but my dad is a fan of raaj kumar and we got it on tape. i dont remember the story, but the dogfights in the movie are really good – and the guy rajkumaar is so refined – it’s like a total antidote ot some of the clowning going around in hindi movies these days. try it out if you get the chance.
here’s the clip i found http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gCQhLBUKun4 i think deep lyrics – especially for those among us whose friends and family are serving on enemy lines. i hope they come back safe as well.
Hairy D: That was really nice. Youtube has SO MUCH…I hope no one ever pulls the plug on it. You can spend hours thinking of old videos (desi/non-desi) and watching them (I’ve rarely failed to find what I was looking for).
DD and Siddartha, Thanks for this discussion!
May God(s) bless “beige babies” such as we.
I agree wholeheartedly. I’m looking forward to the next installment.
anandos, jai and all – thank you. rest assured that we are plotting the next instalment even as i type this. look for a post hopefully end of next week. we have much to absorb from this comment thread; it’s been most enlightening. peace
Anandos, I was wondering when you were going to pipe in, O Master of Beigeness 😉
Hi DD and all,
I always show up eventually. . . although I’ve been spending the first week back at school teaching reflective-Americans (read, golas) how to bond and whatnot.
I’ve just returned from a weekend taking my very-white only-child of only-child girlfriend to see the larger family in Toronto. She was only mildly overwhelmed by our numbers – but she did notice the “which-culture-am-I-today?”) routine which I go through after those visits. It seems (and perhaps I generalise to suggest that all beigies do this) that I continue the “fit-in” game to some extent, trying to match the others around me wherever I am, bouncing between all-white and mixed-Indian cultures.
Anywho, I look forward to the next bit of the discussion, and hopefully I’ll be able to butt in earlier. . .
Other people with identity issues are those of us that spend the majority of their adult lives in countries other than the one they were born and raised in, and countries which have vastly different cultures/customs than the ones they were born and raised in.
Add to that the practice of a religion which when, practiced outside of the country of it’s origin, is more or less free of the original country’s baggage, but when practiced in that country, the baggage gets added to it and you don’t know what to let go and what to hang on to, or rather, what to separate from your practice (sadhana) and what not to. And going back and forth between alot of differenct countries and cultures in the course of your travels which are all connected to the religion and the country/culture it originated in.
Yep, we got issues.
I was just curious to know if any one had met other mixed kids that are brown on brown (like myself and a bunch a cousins) and how does the desi community in say india and the us view them/us? Is it with more alarm that we’re regarded? I’m just curious as to whether or not we are as equally accepted or not for the same reasons in the Desi community here as our white on brown conterparts, would we be less easy to accept and get past because we are brown on brown? cause I know some of my brit brown on brown mixed cousins have a really hard time over there. By the way, brown on brown was the nickname we gave ourselves when people kept asking us what we were,lol.
Sorry Bidi, I meant that my mother is Indian and my father is black.
AnjaliToo:
What have your experiences been with both desi and non-desi’s? I’m curious!
Amongst the Carribbean people I know, meaning, browns on browns (black), the ones found to ebrace their Indian heritage are a rarity. The mixed Indo-African Caribs say that the Indians do not accept them at all, look down on them, etc. Thus they tend to lean more towards their African/black heritage in terms of lifestyle and culture.
I have a very good friend who’s mother is Indian, father is African and the father’s parents had no problem accepting an Indian daughter-in-law but the mother’s parents “disowned” their daughter for marrying a black man. This has planted a “seed of hatred” of sorts in the heart of my friend towards Carribbean Indians. He said he faced alot of prejudice and just prefers not to mix with Indians at all. Ironically enough he is more attracted to Indian spirituality than to African spirituality and plans to make a trip to India to explore his “spiritual roots”, so to speak. Although he admits he is not looking forward to the prejudice he assumes he will face as a black man there.
I told him that people in general will treat you how you treat them and I doubt he will experience much prejudice at all since he looks very Indian in his facial features. If he experiences anything negative at all it might be xenophobia, being that he is not a “desi from the desh”, so to speak, and he does not speak any Indian language. But from first glance the people will just think he’s some Himalayan sadhu with very long jata (dreads) accumulated over years of doing the sadhu thing, as long as he doesn’t dress too “western”.
Because the so-called “sadhus” with jata who roam about do not wear western clothes, and the Indians who wear western clothes do not grow jata (dreads).
So, to pass as an average Indian man, short hair and western clothes is the way to go. But to pass for a sadhu – jata sans western clothes is the way to go.
But he does not want to pass as either.
An Indian in western clothes with jata past his cute butt will be a new experience there and people will not know what to make of it.
I remember when one European girl was roaming through our town with long dreads, the people were asking me, “yeh yogini hai?” I’m like no, that’s just her hairstyle. They couldn’t understand why anyone would choose jata as a “hairstyle”.
But anyway, my experience with racism or colorism is that it is really “culturalism”. Meaning, it’s not the color of anyone’s skin that gets on people’s nerves, it’s their behaviour, which stems from their cultural upbringing or material conditionings.
Often times my black Carib friends ask me, “why do Indians act like they are white?”
When broken down they mean to say, “why do Indians treat us (blacks) inferior when many of them are blacker (in skin color) than we are?”
Again, it’s not the skin color, it’s the behaviour which stems from cultural differences. And that’s at the root of racism anywhere in this world, in my humble opinion, based on my experiences.
Most Indians are more structured in their behaviour than either whites or blacks in the West. There are more do’s and don’ts and more is expected of Indian children. Whites and blacks by contrast appear “ulta-fulta” or disorganized, with no structure, no morals (morality is relative, oftentimes subjective), no tazeeb, etc.
Yes, these are all generalizations and I know many Indians, whites and blacks will not fit in with all of the above, but again, in my experience, most do. I can only speak from my personal experience, just as others can only speak from theirs.
Like I said, I can only speak from my own personal experiences. I don’t pretend to speak from the experiences of others. That’s why I always make it a point to say, “in my opinion, based on my experiences”.
In the parts of India where I have lived and roamed, dreads, if not on a “sadhu”, did raise alot of eyebrows, comments and questions.
So be it.
So am I. Extremely so.
Who is that question directed at?
I’d have to say that my experiences have been varied depending it seemed on generation and gender, which is why I asked the questions I did. And I have to disagree with what beige sage said about caribbean mixes because I am from the caribbean and what I am is the norm in the country that I come from, mixed children are considered, especially the girls, beautiful and something to aspire to. But I also think that it has something to do with the island you’re from, in Trinidad & Tobago as well as in Jamaica where I’m from, it’s not such a big deal that blacks and indians mix, but I know from a lot of my Guyanese friends that in Guyana, indians tend to stay together and that the ones that do venture outside with a person of african decent, especially if that person is a man, have a very hard time finding acceptance, but I think that has a lot to do with the fact that if any indians in that part of the world hold on to indian culture, its the Guyanese, and being so far removed from India they’re trying to hold on to what culture they still have which I understand. The majority of them practice hinduism, while we in the rest of caribbean have created a whole new culture from all the people that were brought there. We have some rudimenatary knowledege of food and culture, but for the most part we are almost completely ignorant. Like someone said above though, I’ve always felt that pull towards India. For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to visit India, but I was always afraid because I didn’t know how I would be looked at. But back to my experience here in the states, I never really thought about being half of anything before my interactions with desi’s here. It’s been a bit confusing because even though I’m mixed, I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I look startling Indian, but then again not thanks to my very curly hair. I walk through little India in Manhattan and people look curiously, and I even had one man come right out and ask me if I were Indian, which I prefer to the staring by the way, and when I told him no, he asked me if I was from guyana, lol. Younger desi’s don’t seem to care or be bothered by it, I’m just who I am to them, the guys seem to like it, they think its exotic or something, a not so Indian Indian girl, so I wind up dating a lot of desi men, which is good because I’m mainly atrracted to indian men I just don’t know if they take me seriously, but it never gets to the point where I meet the parents because I’m terrified, I’ve heard some horror stories. I always seem to have better interactions with men than with women regardless of age, they always seem more curious as to what I know about the culture, can I make the foods, general stuff, my interactions with women are very few, and if they’re anything like my mum, I want it to stay that way, she scares me, lol. To be honest though BS, it was my fathers family that had a problem with my mother, so we wound up spending very little time with them and most of our time with our mothers relatives. In jamaica it’s a little bit of a double edged sword, while they think that mixed black/indian children are beautiful, the prejudices against indians in Jamiaca is underlying and has a lot to do with class because Jamaica is a class society with the mixed people, indians and whites being at the top of the pile, and mostly being the ones with the money. For a long time I completely rebelled against being mixed though, because I felt like a fraud for looking like something that I’m not, and from time to time it still bothers me. I went through a period where no one knew my first name and everyone called me by my middle name, I wouldn’t even look twice at an Indian man, and just generally refused anything Indian. Its only been about six years since I’ve been comfortable (for the most part) with who I am.