Monthly Archives: March 2008

Guest Blogger: Sandhya

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This morning, I was sleeping late in my hammock in the bunker when Rajni came in and tried to wake me up. I slept through her first and second attempts. Finally she got so annoyed with me that she swung the hammock upside down, sending me crashing rudely to the hard concrete floor. “Silly bugger!” Said she, “Sandhya will be here in 30 minutes and the guest room is still a mess from the party you threw last night and … what are we going to do with Sandhya’s herd of elephants?”

Well, that got me off the floor in a hurry. You see, Sandhya is a friend from the days before this blog, heck, since the days before blogging in general. She’s one of those old fashioned writers who writes for publication on dead trees as well as live electrons, and the bunker was an absolute and total disaster. I’d like to report that I have it all cleaned up now, but that would be a lie. Instead, we have what I hope will be comfortable enough temporary accomodations for our newest guest blogger.

One other thing about Sandhya – she’s the most diasporic desi I know. You see, while my parents came from the motherland to here, Sandhya is a third generation African who grew up between three continents. Holy Gogol Ganguly! But I’ll let her tell you her own stories rather than stealing her thunder.

I hope you make Sandhya feel welcome.

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Poetry Friday: Mad About Elephants

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A little pre-post note from Sandhya Nankani, your new guest blogger: At least once a day, I come across a link or a piece of literature or an article and I think, “That would be great for sepia!” So it goes without saying that I’m thrilled about coming aboard as a guest blogger for the next month. You’ll read ennis’s little ditty about me later today, so besides inviting you to check out my family ruminations, I’m ready to fly…

For the next month, I thought it would be fun to import a regular feature—Poetry Friday–from my personal blog Literary Safari. I’ll be putting a subcontinental twist on this. Every Friday I’ll be posting a poem by a desi writer that speaks to me. mohan.jpg

I’ve always had a thing for elephants. My first (and favorite) stuffed animal was a gray elephant. In those days, stuffed animals were not very soft or fuzzy. Mine is rough and tough, but he has survived three decades, and continues to thrive (despite his half-fallen off trunk) alongside my collection of elephant kurtis; shell, glass, and metal elephants (including Ganeshas); elephant paintings and silkscreens, elephant magazine holder … yeah, OK, you get the point!

So, today’s poem—which I recently discovered in Billy Collins’ anthology 180 More: Extraordinary Poems for Every Day—is (brace yourselves for the long title) “Aanabhrandhanmar Means ‘Mad About Elephants’” by Aimee Nezhukumatathil (Nez for short).

I like to pair literary and artistic selections the way people pair wine and cheese, so when I read this poem, it seemed to me a perfect accompaniment to Australia-based photojournalist Palani Mohan’s images in his new book, Vanishing Giants: Elephants of Asia. [click the above image to view a slideshow of his photos.]

Aanabhrandhanmar Means ‘Mad About Elephants’

Forget trying to pronounce it. What matters
is that in southern India, thousands are afflicted.
And who wouldn’t be? Children play with them
in courtyards, slap their gray skin with cupfuls
of water, shoo flies with paper pompoms.
When the head of the household leaves

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Review: Tahmima Anam’s “A Golden Age”

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A friend gave me a copy of A Golden Age, by Tahmima Anam, as a present a couple of months ago, and I finally got around to reading it this week. A Golden Age, it turns out, is a very strong first novel, written in a direct, natural style, and I wholeheartedly recommend it. tahmima-anam.jpg

Anam’s is the first novel put out by a western publisher that I know of to have Bangladesh’s war for independence as its main theme, and for that reason alone, I suspect A Golden Age will become the kind of book that is often taught in college classes on “South Asian Literature” (like the courses I myself get to teach every couple of years). The War is important in Rohinton Mistry’s Such a Long Journey, but only at a great distance (Mistry’s novel is set in Bombay). And a section of Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children deals with this event, but it comes near the end, and Rushdie addresses it in rather lyrical terms — you don’t really get a solid explanation of how the war started or what it was about.

Here, you do. The center of the novel is, of course, the family drama — involving a widow named Rehana and her two grown children, Sohail and Maya. Both of the children are politically oriented, and take a strongly pro-Bangla, pro-Sheikh Mujib position on the events that transpired in 1971. By contrast, their mother Rehana is at first reluctant to make a commitment — though the needs of her children soon force her to inject herself into the conflict. She also begins to come out of her shell emotionally, which is of course what most readers want to see.

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Salmagundi

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In this edition:

1) I buzz the hive mind, about Jackson Heights
2) a cool event in DC next Friday, for a good cause
3) mentions of a NY meetup

::

I get a lot of different requests from you mutineers, and though I am usually not able to write back, I try to help whenever I can. I’ve also noticed that sometimes, I have a few things I’d like to bring up, but they don’t seem worthy of an entire post– asking what days might be good for a New York meetup, for example. So, every so often, I’m going to put up a post called Salmagundi [I like the word so much, it used to be an entire category on the right sidebar of my personal blog :)] and it will contain a few utterly unrelated but mutinous things. Either that, or I’ll use SM’s newly-created Twitter account to ask questions like the one below:

Dear Anna
I was wondering if you knew when Jackson Heights would be closed if they close at all? We are planning on coming to NYC for 2 days as my husband needs a visa. So I thought we would go to Jackson Heights when somebody mentioned that they were not sure but it may be closed on either Monday or Tuesday.

That’s a question from one of our faithful readers. I want to help, because next week is spring break and that’s when they want to go, but I don’t know the answer! I went to Jackson Heights a few times when I lived in NYC, but I never did anything useful, like pay attention. I usually bought pista kulfi on the street (blew my mind, every time…I could do this in America? Don’t hate, I grew up somewhere 98% pale), looked for Hema Malini DeeWeDees and then got back on the subway. So, what’s up Jackson Heights-area mutineers? When, if ever, does brown-town shut down?

::

Next chunk of stew-y goodness: A special event, NEXT WEEK (thanks, Kenyandesi) at the historic Bohemian Caverns in DC (now home to SubDrift), starring Cheb i Sabbah, someone I tend to associate with home (yay urrea).

Legendary DJ, producer and global electronica icon Cheb i Sabbah returns to DC for the first time in many years with his special blend of outernational beats and lush organic soundscapes at electroganic 001 on march 14 @ bohemian caverns!
Joining him on the decks will be one of San Francisco’s best DJs, Janaka Selekta, as well as DC’s own v:shal kanwar, mr. darko and julez.
Proceeds to benefit local women’s shelters through Race Against Domestic Violence…

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Kal Penn @ UPenn

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This past Sunday I went down to the University of Pennsylvania for a rare, open Q&A session with Kal Penn. As readers may remember from Anna’s earlier post on the subject, Penn is at Penn this spring, teaching a class on representations of Asian Americans in the Media. He’s also shooting episodes of “House” (go, House), and stumping for Obama in his free time, though with that schedule I’m not sure how he has any.

As I understand it, there was initially some controversy about the class — is this going to be a stunt, or a real asset to a the Asian American Studies curriculum?

If it were just about bringing a little glamor to campus, I would be skeptical too. But I think it’s fair to say Penn is both an actor and a careful observer of the representation of Desis in both Hollywood and the Indie film world. If you listen to him talk, it’s clear that he’s thought carefully and self-critically about his experiences and choices (he’s very aware that his role as a home-grown, Muslim-American terrorist on 24 might be seen as “problematic,” for instance — though he still defends the choice to take the role). He’s self-conscious enough to know what a racist representation of a South Asian character is, and call it by that name. But at the same time, he’s open about the fact that minority actors sometimes need to play ball to get an entree in Hollywood.

In response to one of the questions posed by a student at the Q&A Kal Penn effectively acknowledged that this was the dilemma he faced when he auditioned for his first Hollywood movie, “Van Wilder.” Unfortunately, Penn also suggested, in response to another question, that things aren’t all that much better even now, for actors who are just starting out:

“I think things for me personally as an artist have changed dramatically, but I know that overall, that change has been slow and incremental. There is no shortage of truly talented actors of South Asian descent in places like New York, Los Angeles, Toronto, and London. There are folks who majored in theater, studied film, and are experiencing the same struggles I went through when I was starting out. I think that was my main point: things for me have begun to change, but things for others are perhaps remaining the same.” (Kal Penn, from an email)

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It isn’t even April 1st yet!

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I love wearing saris. Trouble is, the more unique a sari is, the more memorable it will be. If you wore this to a wedding in May, people will still remember it in June. For those of us who are 3,ooo miles from home and Mama’s saris, that doesn’t leave us with many options, especially if shopping at ISP in Murrland isn’t a palatable idea.

Since I haven’t been back to the pind since 1989 (insert cringe here), and I feel like I’m getting massively ripped off if I buy something on Devon or University Avenue, that only leaves me with one way to get my pleats on; every year, some relative returns from Kerala with a few gifts which my much-adored Chinamma chose for me. She knows that I favor Kanjeevaram…and that her older sister, my Moms, is very conservative. [See: my blouse sleeves, for proof.] Chinamma always sends me something beautiful, and because of her, I haven’t needed to purchase something silky or slinky online. And that, dear mutineers, is why I didn’t see this (click, to enlarge…if you dare):

are you kidding me.jpg
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Doing the Texas two-step

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It’s been a long 48 hours for me here in the heart of Texas. Monday night I went to check out Barack Obama for myself at one of his stops in Houston. The crowd was about six thousand or so strong and was composed mostly of people of color (probably an 85-15 split) including quite a few South Asian Americans. I’d never been to a political rally and figured this would be my chance to witness one first hand. I would have loved to have gone to a Clinton rally as well but my schedule (and hers) didn’t permit it. My observations from the rally were many, but here are a few:

1) There are a lot of sheep who will bay at just about anything

2) People seem to go crazy when free stuff is being handed out. When free Obama placards were being handed out (to wave around at the rally) I felt like I was in the middle of a disbursement of flour in the Gaza strip, given the way people started acting

3) The vast majority of people want to believe in someone other than themselves

4) Gas prices seem to be the most important thing to the group of people I was with

I realized that a rally just doesn’t do anything for me. I am a policy wonk and find it more satisfying when I feel the candidate is talking directly to me rather than simply trying to inspire me.

I early voted in the primary but I also caucused after the polls closed at 7 p.m. CST tonight (Tuesday). This dual primary-caucus system is unique to Texas and is often described as the Texas Two-Step. At 7:15p.m. you sign in and declare which candidate you are caucusing for. You have to caucus for a candidate in the same party as the person who you voted for earlier in the primary. However, there is nothing preventing you from splitting your “two votes” among two candidates if you choose to.

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Sister Alphonsa’s Story

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A nun known as Sister Alphonsa will be canonized by the Catholic Church later this year, becoming the first Indian female saint, according to the BBC. sister-alphonsa.jpg Sister Alphonsa has a somewhat dark life story:

Sister Alphonsa (1910-1946) of Kerala was beatified in 1986 by the late Pope John Paul II on a visit to India. She will be formally canonised in October.

She had burnt and disfigured herself to avoid a marriage, having chosen to dedicate her life to Christ.

She will become a saint ahead of the Albanian nun Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

Mother Teresa was beatified in 2003.

The decision to accord sainthood to Sister Alphonsa was made over the weekend at a meeting between the Pope and other cardinals at the Vatican.

Sister Alphonsa, whose real name was Anna Muttathupadathu, was described by those who knew her as generous and loving. (link)

I should note that the story about it being an intentional self-injury is not repeated on Sister Alphonsa’s Wikipedia page, nor did the Catholic Church refer to it that way in its statement on Sister Alphonsa’s Beatification in 1986. (Also, see how her story is described by Catholicism.org) So perhaps the story isn’t true, or if it is true, it may not be important to those who revere Sister Alphonsa. (If readers have experience with Sister Alphonsa, do people tend to believe this story? Is it important to the popular understanding of why she is revered?)

Of course, Sister Alphonsa is not becoming a Saint for that back-story, but rather because she lived a pious life, overcame her disability (and the lifetime of pain that followed her injury), and helped people. Two miracles are also attributed to her (that is also a requirement for canonization, as I understand it).

That said, I have to say I find the back-story powerful. Is it really true that at age 13 she burned herself in this way to escape a marriage she didn’t want, in order to dedicate her life to the Church? If so, that is at once an amazing and horrible act of self-assertion — and renunciation. Continue reading →

A Trick Question: That’s KAH-ree-yah-wah-sum

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A quick break here from my Groundviews posts. First, as I said in that last comment thread, the kind people in the bunker said I could stay for awhile longer! I’m excited.

Second, my friend alerted me to a reference to Sri Lanka in a recent SNL skit:

Run the player until about 1:30 before the end, and listen to the foreign policy segment. Yup, that’s a reference to Sri Lanka’s Ambassador Prasad Kariyawasam. He’s Sri Lanka’s permanent rep to the U.N. At least, I think he still is. 🙂 Continue reading →

Everyone wants a little Punjabi

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I wish we were beyond this exasperating stupidity. Via TOIlet (no need to visit and catch a VTD, the entire article is quoted below:

Three-month-old Livya was rejected thrice by prospective Indian parents, who found her too dark. A year later, however, an American couple chose to adopt her and flew her to the US. She now lives with her parents and has two siblings — one from Korea and another from Vietnam.
Livya was lucky, but the story is not the same for other adoptable children. Many who are legally free for adoption continue to face discrimination as wannabe Indian parents look for a “fair and lovely” baby, though the law prevents one from picking and choosing babies for adoption.

Perhaps those overlooked children are better off without such complexion-obsessed parents. After all, there is always the Angelina effect (aside: once again, Madonna is associated with the word “wanna-be”):

But most foreign couples prefer children who are dark-skinned, older or with medical concerns, HIV positive and with special needs.

And here, the reason for my title (and the explanation for the painful noise my jaw made when it fell on my desk):

Secretary for the Central Adoption Resource Authority (CARA), O P Sirohe, says in-country adoptions have been encouraging and there is a long list of parents waiting. But still, they ask for fair-skinned, healthy and, preferably, Punjabi child as it is usually chubby. A child is no market commodity and adoptions become meaningful only when there is a change in people”s attitude, he says.

Preferably a Punjabi child. Wow. I love chubby babies, too (my Godson’s nickname wasn’t “The Pudgesicle” for nothing)…but this just makes my stomach twist. What are you adopting? A baby or an accessory? What does this even mean? That it’s too much work to feed your new kid butter-laced everything, so you can chub them up sufficiently yourself? “Honey, let’s go shopping for a baby on Saturday—I heard they have new Punjabi models in stock!” And to my Punjabi peeps…um…how do you feel about being objectified due to such a dubious distinction?

Foreign couples are more open to adopting any child, irrespective of its age, religion, skin colour or looks. Children who are older, with special needs and medical conditions are finding homes overseas, he says.
“NRIs and couples from Italy, Germany, US, Spain and Sweden take home kids with special needs. We place such children in Indian homes too, but they are an exception,” says Dr Aloma Lobo, chairperson, Adoption Coordinating Agency, Karnataka.

And thanggawd for it.

The following concern isn’t exclusive to India; American “waiting” children don’t have much luck when they are in their teens, either. Everyone wants a baby. And sometimes, a chubby one.

Another hurdle in the adoption of children is their age. For instance, Lakshmi, who is 13 years old, has still not found a home as her age is a major deterrent.

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