Flippin’ the Bird

seattle.jpgI am quite sure many of you macacas have had some version of this experience, recounted by Mukta Tripathi of the Napa Valley Register:

During my first fall in the United States, someone asked me what Indians do for Thanksgiving.

Faced with this sort of inquiry, there are three basic approaches you can take.

1) A thorough, sensitive explanation that Thanksgiving is a uniquely American holiday unfamiliar to desis-from-desiland or any foreigners for that matter, augmented if you care to, by a description of meals consumed at holidays of the desi tradition of your choice, and if you need to, by a patient clarification that you are not one of those other Indians, you know, like that nice lady Pocahontas;

2) A petulant riposte that you are, by birth or longstanding residence, as American as the questioner, and how dare they suggest you would mark Thanksgiving any differently than they;

3) Simply invite the questioner to sit down with you and get your eat on.

My personal preference goes to option 3, as does Tripathi’s, who contributes in that spirit a menu of desified Thanksgiving delights:

I have put together a list of dishes using some traditional American Thanksgiving ingredients: green beans, pumpkin, turnips, potatoes and even cranberries. The sweet and sour pumpkin dish and the turnip, tomato and pea curry can be served with rice pilaf or rolled in a flour tortilla or flatbread as a wrap. I can guarantee that your vegetarian friends will be happy with these alternatives to turkey, and even the non-vegetarians may be inspired by these recipes.

They include Sweet and Sour Pumpkin with Indian Five Spices, Turnip Tomato and Peas Curry, Rice Pilaf; and Ginger and Cranberry Chutney with Five Spices.

You will have noticed that one key item is missing: the turkey. That’s fine if you’re vegetarian — you get to avoid the chore of preparing this fundamentally boring bird in a way that’s fit to eat — but if you or your guests are not, and unless you splurge for a partridge or goose, you need to deal with the problem. That’s where restaurateurs like Qudrat Syed of Chicago come in. He’ll desify your gobbler for a fee:

For $75, Syed took Motamen’s store-bought bird and gave him back a tandoori turkey with biryani, a vegetable-laden rice dish, and Motamen got to keep his own kitchen clean. “It was really different and really good,” said Motamen, who plans to do it again this year.

Continue reading

Mon Frere?

Before I begin, forgive me for any inadvertent formatting and presentation mistakes. I don’t use MovableType, and quite frankly WordPress is a hell of a lot easier when it comes to aligning images, doing text wraps, that sort of thing. In other words, my posts may look like a hot mess, but I promise you they will taste like seriously good chaat masala.

Frere-Hall.jpg Carrying on…

In my experience (limited though it may be), of all the cities in Pakistan, Karachi probably has the greatest number of intact buildings left over from the days of the British Raj (Lahore has prettier and larger ones, but not perhaps as many). Which is not to equate “intact” with “well-preserved”; in many cases, these building are little more than shells and facades, while others have faded into the background under the manic pressure of urban decay expansion (not unlike many aging aunties struggling with foundation and surma in a desperate effort to hold back the ravages of time). Naturally, the city government finds it a complete waste of time to actually try and maintain these buildings, with a handful of exceptions, preferring instead to focus on cramming as many slum areas into one space-time locus as the laws of physics will allow.

This is important to me, I like the pretty, and I like it a damnÂ’ lot. Continue reading

Friedman on India

It should be no surprise to most here that I’m a strident fan of Milton Friedman and that his passing was quite a bit more than a garden variety celeb obit for me. While I’m a geek of rather high proportions, there are quite a few of us for whom the loss left an almost personal hollowness.

“The current danger is that India will stretch into centuries what took other countries only decades” – Milton Friedman, 1963Because he called San Francisco home, I actually had the honor of seeing Uncle Milt speak in person about 2 years ago at a benefit gala for a thinktank I’m a contributor to.

And earlier this spring, I had another opportunity to see Milton & Rose Friedman in person at the unveiling of a PBS documentary on his life and times. At the time, I implored several friends to join me with the argument that “at 94, homey ain’t gonna be around too much longer – see him while you can.” Unfortunately, a bout of flu kept Friedman from joining us that evening (Rose did, however make it) and alas, my words were sadly prophetic.

Interestingly, at that event, Gary Becker was on tap for Milton & Rose’s intro. In nearly any other context, Becker’s own Nobel Prize would have garnered him a headline act. But given Friedman’s ginormous stature, Becker’s intro speech was instead somewhat rudely met with idle chatter from the back of the banquet hall. You’d think scoring a Nobel prize would earn a little more respect – apparently not so when you’re between an audience and the Friedman’s.

‘Tis the curse of the passage of a generation that we take for granted previous, hard fought accomplishments – both material and intellectual. In its extreme, we just assume that he world we see around us had to be rather than recgonize the role of volition, creativity, and intellectual accomplishment which enabled it to be.

In Friedman, India, and recent economic history, we see all this wrapped up in a neat tidy little package. So much that seems obvious now was contrarian then. And so many of the arguments we use to excuse and ignore the outcome of disastrous policy was plainly predicted and evident decades ago.

Continue reading

Global Climax Change: The Science Is Still Out

You have just over one month to eat your nuts and fruits, reserve your favorite setting and line up the partner(s) of your choice. On Friday, December 22nd, you can help change the world by taking part in the Global Orgasm for Peace.

WHO? All Men and Women, you and everyone you know.

WHERE? Everywhere in the world, but especially in countries with weapons of mass destruction.

WHEN? Winter Solstice Day – Friday, December 22nd, at the time of your choosing, in the place of your choosing and with as much privacy as you choose.

WHY? To effect positive change in the energy field of the Earth through input of the largest possible surge of human energy. There are two more US fleets heading for the Persian Gulf with anti-submarine equipment that can only be for use against Iran, so the time to change EarthÂ’s energy is NOW!

Our minds influence Matter and Energy fields, so by concentrating any thoughts during and after The Big O on peace and partnership, the combination of high orgasmic energy combined with mindful intention will reduce global levels of violence, hatred and fear.

Since the list of countries that possess WMDs includes the United States, India, Pakistan and the United Kingdom, the Global O gives most of our readers an opportunity to do some good. Make sure to tell all the aunties and uncles back in Desh that they too can change the world that day. I am sure they will all want to participate.

It will come as no surprise that the Global Orgasm project originates in San Francisco, the veritable yoni of spiritually-oriented activism. Amusingly sprinkled with double entendres, this article in yesterday’s San Francisco Chronicle has the details:

While the Global O may sound much like other collective actions attempted over the years, the O’s organizers promise something more on their Web site: “The combination of high-energy orgasmic energy combined with mindful intention may have a much greater effect than previous mass meditations and prayers.” …

The effect is to be measured by the Global Consciousness Project at Princeton University (I’m not making this up), which tracks the impact of major events on the output of random number generators. That scientific dimension distinguishes Global O from earlier ventures:

Not surprisingly, the Global O isn’t the first effort to synchronize pleasure in the name of peace. Or even just in the name of synchronized pleasure. For several years, a weekly climax has been coordinated online (Webcams optional), and sexuality experts say there have been several other attempts to link pleasure and peace.

I’m also reminded of the song by Pulp, “Sheffield Sex City,” which speculates on what might happen if everyone in a depressed Northern England city came at once. But the Global O takes the concept to a more ambitious stage and I am sure you will all want to take part. No word yet on a Meetup.

Continue reading

Pink haathis and the like

In retrospect, that last bottle of champagne on Saturday night was a bad idea, but finding an unopened, chilled bottle of Dom in Karachi is so damn’ difficult that I simply couldn’t pass up the offer.

I did however manage to pass right the hell out.

And now I’m still not sure why I have rope burns on my wrists, nor why my underwear seems to have mysteriously gone missing, and most importantly, why I’m trapped in a room without any minimalist furniture, wall-decorations other than a Mr. Kabaddi 2004 calendar, and a laptop perched on what seems to be a vertically placed dhol.

Ah yes. I wondered what the Mutineers were doing at that party over at the Sind Club, but oddly enough at the time, I was too busy shaking my groove thang with Anna and marvelling at her ability to inhale Black & Coke by the litre to really pay attention to the ropes and chains that Vinod was trying (with a fair amount of success, mind you) to hide behind his back. I suppose the words “You know, we’ve never had a gay Pakistani on SM yet” should have been a marginal clue as to the direction the evening was going to take, but at the time it just seemed like such an innocent, simple expression of fact.

And now I’m trapped in a sparsely under-decorated room with absolutely no Aveda products of any kind, and I don’t even know the mailing address for this place, otherwise I’d have re-decorated the entire bunker by now. Which is probably for the best now that I think about it.

On the plus side, I think I see the t-shirt Ex-Intern Neel was wearing lying on the floor, so there may yet be hope for this location. Continue reading

Guest Blogger: Sin

Once upon a time (i.e. in 2003), a neophyte blogger considered the layout of her site and wondered if she should change her sidebar. Never mind the hilarious fact that just two months before that moment, she was unaware of what a “sidebar” was– now she was scrutinizing hers, specifically the “Recently Updated Blogs” content which TypePad offered as an option.

Solidarity with other TypePadders was good, but she had not had much luck when it came to whichever link she whimsically chose to explore. She had never bookmarked one of these random blogs and she probably never would. Like this one for example, newly at the top of the list…”Venial Sin”. Fantastic name, the erstwhile Catholic school girl thought…it’s probably going to be an even more impressive disappointment, because of it.

Perhaps her cynicism unjinxed the ritual; this time, she didn’t just bookmark, she froze, then devoured. Then, she fell in blog-love. “Venial Sin” wasn’t just a reference to a minor transgression against God– it was a nom de plume for the best blogger she had ever read. She was absolutely enchanted.

Despite its life-altering role in her infatuation, “Recently Updated Blogs” was heartlessly deleted. In its place, she created a newly expanded blogroll, which finally included a fellow TypePadder, along with the following description of his site: scathing, coruscating, ennui-slaying perfection. Three years later, those words are truer than ever and best of all, now you can think them, too.

The latest Guest Blogger to visit our bunker might just be the greatest, mutineers. Give a suitable welcome to Sin. Continue reading

The World Is High, Not Flat

akhil bansal.jpg The Philadelphia Inquirer has the first in a series of articles about an illegal prescription drug network that was busted in 2005, as part of “Operation Cyber Chase.” The ringleaders of the network were the Bansals, a family based in India, though part of the business was run out of a warehouse in Queens.

Here’s how the business worked:

Akhil [Bansal] oversaw the family’s North American operations, shipping roughly 75,000 pills a day via UPS. In a little more than a year, the network had smuggled 11 million prescription tablets to more than 60,000 American addresses, an operation that grossed at least $8 million. These numbers did not include the steroids or the kilo shipments of the tranquilizer ketamine, a club drug called “Special K.”

The family’s Internet business represented a dark slice of the global economy so new, and so widespread, that national governments were still struggling to understand it, let alone police it.

Laws were vague, outdated, inconsistent. Technology – new medicines and ways to deliver them – was outpacing regulation. (link)

Unlike Operation Meth Merchant, where a number of the defendants pleaded guilty because they were going to be deported anyway, these guys clearly knew exactly what they were doing, and what they were doing was definitely illegal. In contrast to Operation Meth Merchant, which disproportionately targeted Indian immigrant store clerks, I’m not at all bothered at the take-down of the Bansals — they deserve to be in jail. Rather, it’s an intriguing case study that shows yet again how India’s entry into the globalized, internet-based economy goes well beyond the rosy picture suggested by talk of outsourcing and call centers.

At the same time, I don’t think the Bansals are especially “evil” for smuggling imitation prescription drugs, though it’s definitely dangerous for these drugs to be floating around. (According to NPR, at least one person died after purchasing drugs from a website based in Mexico.) If anything, the Bansals were evil because their business was based on spam, which wreaks havoc with email and is the bane of many a blogger’s existence. Continue reading

55Friday: The “Blue Jean” Edition

Let’s motor“, a certain red Mini whispered my way late last night, so I happily complied. Careening down Rock Creek Parkway, I thought I was already as blissed as I could possibly be, since I had a sticky car on a curvy road obeying my right hand’s every whim. Then I realized that XM’s Fred was sending me some David Bowie-flavored sweetness; I hadn’t heard “Blue Jean” in at least a year, which is unfortunate, because it’s one of my top three Bowie songs of all time. Laughing out loud, I made the volume dial spin clockwise as I threw caution out the sunroof. My wrist chose sixth and my night was sublime.

I tend to name our nanofiction orgies after songs which helped me survive high school and “Blue Jean” can definitely take some credit for that feat. No, seriously…I don’t have any other reason for choosing it. It’s not like I’m trying to indicate a subtle preference when it comes to college sports or anything. CoughGOBLUEcough.

:+:

Today, we’re going to do something a little different with our flash fiction festivities. Yes, you have a theme, which you can mutilate as you see fit (blue, jeans, space oddities…it’s a very special Abhi-edition of the 55). You may also ignore it, if you have words within you that have nothing to do with the song which is still stuck in my head. However, if you are not inclined to write an amuse-bouche of a tale which is composed of exactly 55 words, I have another option for you. Continue reading

Gawker: Suddenly Less Brown

teh hawt.jpg Nick Denton’s flagship timesuck Gawker said “pinne kannam” to their perma-intern Neel Shah today (Thanks, Amit)– wait, you totally didn’t even know they HAD a brown intern, did you? What’s that? We are your timesuck of choice? Awww. That kind of loyalty is worth a solid kundi-grab at the next meetup, kids.

It’s so hard to see the little ones grow up and take wing; you nurture them, tutor them in the ways of righteousness, and then send them out into the big, scary world, hoping that the values you’ve imbued somehow help them through life’s most trying tasks, specifically, working for Maer Roshan. As Eat the Press reports, our own Intern Neel (whose tenure here at Gawker exceeds that of the four current editors combined) has taken the position of Assistant Editor at Radar.[link]

See? Told you he was the perma-intern.

Neel, whose party dispatches were legendary and who elicits a flood of “Is he single?” e-mails to the tip line each time we print his photograph, will write front of the book stuff for the magazine (remember, there’s going to be a magazine component) and Fresh Intelligence work for the website. Sorry as we are to see him go, we’re thrilled for him, and we look forward to reading his work in the two issues of Radar they put out before the inevitable loss of funding. Congratulations, kiddo.[link]

Is he single? The comments section to the post quoted above had certain gawker stalkers wondering if he was teh gay. Whichever way he plays, he is a little bit of brown adorable, yessiree Babu.

Gentlewomen (and teh gays), start your matrimonial engines– he’s got the following standard-issue brown-privileged background, according to this blurb which I lifted from a Gawker post on Kaavya, which used Neel’s insights to provide an insider view in to her plagiarism fustercluck:

Gawker Intern Neel Shah thinks he understands. Hailing from picturesque Port Jefferson, Long Island, Neel is a first generation Indian-American who took the SATs in 7th grade, went to the same dorky summer program at Johns Hopkins as Viswanathan, and recently graduated from Dartmouth. His father is a doctor, his family drives a Range Rover, and he played tennis in high school. In some small way, Neel knows where Kaavya’s coming from. His culturally specific analysis of her hell and humiliation follows.[link]

Continue reading

Two quick notes about Michigan

Today’s Michigan Daily has an interesting story that sheds light on the evolving politics within the larger Asian American community. There is a secret society at The University of Michigan known as “Michigamua.” It is pretty much modeled after “Skull and Bones” at Yale, right down to their use of Native American artifacts. It existed at time I attended Michigan and my Indian friends mostly disapproved of its existence, although a couple of acquaintances of ours were in it. Many see it as an elitist organization modeled after other such organizations that help to maintain a white male patriarchy. Others see it as a way for minority communities to become part of the “establishment” by wielding the supposed power and influence that comes with membership (President Gerald Ford was a member). Recently, both the president of the Indian American Students Association and the co-chair of SAAN (where I was invited to speak earlier this year) were outed as members of this secret society. This prompted the following demand from the United Asian American Organizations, an influential umbrella group on campus:

United Asian American Organizations, a congress of 37 Asian/Pacific Islander student groups, passed a resolution last month insisting that the senior society meet five demands by the beginning of winter semester.

If it does not, UAAO promised to oust two member groups – the South Asian Awareness Network and the Indian American Student Association

“Michigamua fails to prove to the campus community that they are no longer a racist establishment. The only way they could prove this is through transparency, a method they do not employ at this time,” UAAO executive board members wrote in a statement. “Because of this lack of transparency, United Asian American Organizations has taken steps to ensure the safety of the student of color community to which we belong…” [Link]

Let me translate and paraphrase in my own words: “You stand either with the racist establishment or you stand with other Asians of color.” It doesn’t appear likely that the browns want to quit though:

Members of IASA declined to comment for this article, but it appears their group does not intend to force Pai, the group’s president, to quit the society. It also seems unlikely that they will force him to resign.

SAAN has no intentions of barring its leaders from the society, said Shah, SAAN co-chair and society member.

“At this time, SAAN’s central planning team has decided to give the opportunity to the organization formerly known as Michigamua to implement the changes it promised last year,” he said. [Link]

Also, a second quick note about Michigan:

Continue reading