Author Archives: cicatrix

Rage, Rage Against the Dying Satellite

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mtvdesi_small.jpg Bloggers can’t presume objectivity, so despite the fact that I don’t subscribe (only get old-school network TV), I’m frankly quite dismayed by the news that MTVWorld has closed shop. I know some people who work(ed) at MTV Desi, and appeared on a show that might never air, so perhaps my sentiments are self-serving. But an MTV desi producer emailed this rather heartbreaking note to me today:

This is just really tough for all of us who work to the bone on making something progressive and representative of our communities. I’ve been pretty broken up.

I feel truly truly sad…[and would like] people to understand the challenges of creating a 24 hour channel. The reason we repeat so much is because there are fucking four of us working our asses to the bone to get content up. We are growing. We are a start up– give us a chance!!!

It takes time– and we barely cleared a year and we have supported so many many artists and every single one of them has walked out of our studio feeling proud, happy, accomplished, important…[there is] a need for us to get out there… [to represent] what we stand for and how much WE CARE!!

SepiaMutiny blogged about MTVdesi from its inception, as the first video dropped, anchors were selected, desi artists aired their first videos. We even blogged about how MTV desi covered the Pakistan earthquake (internet writing about liquid television…does that count as meta commentary or wankery?) Continue reading →

Love in the time of Leprosy

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I hate the New York Times Vows Section. I hate how the couple is always young (or young-at-heart!), how the bride is always so quirky and brainy, how the guy is so creative in his wooing of her, how the article name drops schools, professions, connections, and associations as if the NYTimes were a paid fluffer for social ranking porn. And that’s before we meet the parents.

So I wouldn’t have stumbled across this gem if Gawker.com hadn’t brought it to my attention. At first glance, Frances Wu and Rommel Nobay appear to fit the profile:

Mr. Nobay, whose first language is Swahili…was named for a military leader, in his case Field Marshal Erwin Rommel. Mr. Nobay was born in New York, but spent most of his youth in Kenya, his parentsÂ’ birthplace, and also in Goa in India, where their ancestors originated. Eventually his family settled in the United States, where he learned English, graduated from Princeton and received a masterÂ’s in public health from Yale.

Ms. Wu is a Virginia-born Chinese-Japanese American, who speaks more Japanese than Chinese…Ms. Wu remembers feeling “immediately understood,” and she had little trouble grasping his sense of dual kinship with Goa and Africa.

Cosmopolitan, eccentric background, well-traveled, Ivied, quirky, polished professionals, romantic discovery of soul mate…All good, right? But wait!

As their dating progressed, Ms. Wu researched Mr. Nobay online and learned that in 1998 he sued Princeton, unsuccessfully, for defamation after the university notified medical schools he had applied to that his applications contained misrepresentations and altered his academic record.

What the hoo-ha? Rommel, is this true? I couldn’t believe that the brother would let browns down, so I decided to investigate further… by reading on. According to the AP in 1998 (also via Gawker):

The graduate, Rommel Nobay, had admitted he told numerous lies and half-truths in applying to Princeton and later to medical school. He claimed that he was part black and a National Merit Scholar and that a family of lepers had donated half their beggings to support his dream. … Nobay, 30, a computer science teacher from New Haven, admitted that he was not, in fact, a Merit Scholar and that a family of lepers had not helped send him to school. He also acknowledged that he doesn’t know whether he has any black blood.

Stand tall my friend Rommel. Stand proud. Military history (and the Sepia Mutiny)on this day salutes you. For within the hallowed halls of academia, and the gloried annals of the Grey Lady, I can think of none besides you who, for however a sweet and fleeting moment, got people to believe that lepers helped fund your schooling.

As for me, I think I just might read this section more often… Continue reading →

Shilpa Shames Them All

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I’ve never seen a movie starring Shilpa Shetty. I’ve never watched Big Brother. I had no idea until this post on SepiaMutiny that Shilpa Shetty would be on Big Brother. Frankly, I didn’t read it because I didn’t care.

So why, in in the name of all that is sacred, have so many of my conversations in the past few days involved the unholy combination of a mediocre Bollywood actress and a revolting reality show?

Sajit recently tackled the growing controversy surrounding the show, so please refer to his post if you need to catch up. That’s were it began for me.

Then Mr. Cicatrix and I randomly channel-surfed our way to a ABC Nightline News segment on the how Shilpa’s quiet dignity was “Uniting India’s Warring Muslims and Hindus.” So sixty years after Partition, THIS is what finally unites?!

190_britain_2.jpg The House of Commons has weighed in. Tony Blair. The British Chancellor of the Exchequer. The Indian Parliament has lodged a formal complaint with the British government. All this over remarks variously described as “girly rivalry,” “bullying,” and “racist abuse.” (link) Remarks made by people so stupid, one thought “Winston Churchill was the first black president of America.” (link)

The talking heads pontificated and culture critics scibbled op-eds. Is it jealousy? Class conflict? Bigotry? Ignorance? (link). Insecurity? Stupidity? (link). A set-up by the show’s creators? (link). Shilpa’s own fault? (Yep. Germaine Greer said it).

The semiotics of racism, of “poppadoms,” “can’t even speak English,” “Shilpa Fuckawallah” and “live in a house or a shack,” have been tossed about selectively and dissected to the point that it’s all just meaningless chatter.

So it was a relief and a surprise to read Martin Jacques’ article in the Guardian (thanks ultrabrown). Jacques, a Fellow at the Asia Research Center at the London School of Economics, roots around the muck to find a very solid reason for why this show is more than a tempest in a teapot, why it resonates so violently in Britain and abroad:

The test of our behaviour, of how racist we are, is no longer what the white British think. That started to change with the self-awareness and growing confidence of our own ethnic minorities. But the matter does not end there. The test now, in this instance, is what Indians in India think, how they perceive us.

As Goody raged and railed against Shetty on Wednesday night’s TV broadcast, she was like a cornered animal, lashing out in every direction against something she clearly detested but also feared and felt threatened by. She was confronted not only with the Other, but a hugely self-confident Other. What could be worse? It was a metaphor for the world that is now rapidly taking shape before our very eyes. (link )

I think he nails it. Continue reading →

Violent Assault at Leela Lounge

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leela lounge.jpg Many of you have probably received the email. Flying around the internet, it describes a horrible attack on Ashwani Nagpal, the respected owner of Leela Lounge. I actually thought it was a hoax at first, but called the Lounge to verify and was informed that yes, it was true.

Early December 23, 2006, individuals who were present at a holiday party at Leela Lounge attacked both Mr. Nagpal and his friend and co-worker, Asheesh Mathur. Thankfully, both Mr. Nagpal and Mr. Mathur escaped the incident alive; however, Mr. Nagpal suffered injuries to the head and Mr. Mathur, a fractured nose and cracked jaw. During the course of these assaults, racial and ethnic slurs were directed to at least one of the victims. It is chilling to realize that members of the South Asian and Greenwich Village community could suffer this sort of violent crime by patrons at their own establishment.

Please see the full press release here.

So what exactly happened? Was it a private party? If yes, then how did these men get in? If it was a desi party, then who were these people hurling racial insults? Rumors and speculation have fueled this already tragic story, so in the hope of understanding what happened, I met Mr. Nagpal last Wednesday at a meeting held to discuss possible paths of action.

Continue reading →

Literary Festival Saps Tsunami Aid…Is that Bad?

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Hello again, my Sepia friends! I’m delighted to say our mutinous overlords invited me back as a part-timer here at the bunker, and I promise not to abuse the privilege. (But did you feel that shudder? Those were standards being dropped.)

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So as I cast about for something to write about besides boys and terrorist envoys, I found this item in the news tab (thanks Gujulicious): Sri Lanka hosted a literary festival this weekend in Galle, a beautiful city on the Southern coast with a uniquely Dutch heritage.

Attended by non other than the freshly minted Booker winner, Kiran Desai, The Galle Literary Festival billed itself as “Sri Lanka’s first literary festival” and announced noble goals:

Our objectives are to raise the awareness of the increasing depth and diversity of Sri Lankan writings in English, to give Sri Lankan writers an equal platform to their international colleagues, to encourage the use of English among young people and to attract visitors from overseas to visit Galle and the Southern Province.link

But Sri Lanka already has a National Literary Festival, as bureaucratic and stodgy as it may be. And the founder of this Galle festival appears to be an Anglo-Australian hotelier, Geoffrey Dobbs, who has a vested interested in drawing affluent tourists to his Galle hotels and resorts. And this same Geoffrey Dobbs also founded a a tsunami relief organization, Continue reading →

Love means never having to say “good bye”

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One cold and rainy night, Manish and Abhi were going to White Castle when they found me shivering under the hedges that surround the ND HQ. Thinking I’d just lost my way, they offered me a blanket and a Slyder, and decided to let me stick around for a month. But once I tasted the shweet shweet intoxicating nectar that is Admin Privileges, I found myself trying to wrangle a more permanent invite. To that end, dear readers, you won’t believe the things I’ve done. I’m ashamed to say that I: sepialast1.jpg

  • Reorganized Anna’s closet (the shoes! the shoes!)

  • Agreed earnestly when Vinod discussed Milton Friedman’s theories in a Libertarian context (I lied! I lied!)

  • Asked Ennis if he’d like to be Mr. October in my Topless Turbaned Hotties Calender (Fauja Singh is Mr. January, but Ennis doesn’t know that yet)

  • Made a collage of MIA, Sania Mirza and Mohini Bhardwaj for Manish to contemplate as he Rocketposts in the darkness of his lair. (No comment! No comment!)

  • Bought Abhi a 5-pack of Astronaut underwear (plus an extra one that glows-in-the-dark!)

I gave up on Sajit cuz he never came out of his room. Also, I was too afraid to face him after the Marmite incident. He’s like Bruce Banner – you don’t want to make him angry.

They saw right through me though, cuz I’m being booted outta the bunker. But never fear, SepiaReaders…there is so much lowe, sweet lowe, in the air…I can’t help but paraphrase Ali McGraw’s famous line to the rich dude when I say I’ll still be around. Continue reading →

Death Disco in the Diaspora

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sepianirmala1.jpg The Sepia Music Edition continues…Last week, Adnan Y. left a comment about post-punk desi musicians. Specifically, Nirmala Basnayake of controller.controller. Smelling a fellow Sri Lankan, I tried to verify my hunch…but…nada. Ms. Basnayake apparently doesn’t see the need for a compelling backstory.

Once again though, Sepia readers came through.Mephistopheles1981 compiled a list of arty-farty Lankans in the North American diaspora, and called her out. Here forthwith, is a quick review of controller.controller’s debut album History:

Five-piece Toronto outfit, Controller Controller, are the latest mob to join the post-punk rat race. More than just another punk-funk band, though, they seem immediately capable of overriding the hype….The usual old school references are dotted throughout this debut (PiL – check, Gang Of Four – check, Joy Division – check), but distinctive female vocals (courtesy of Nirmala Basnayake), some serious attitude, dancefloor-aimed death grooves and a sense of the apocalyptic all make for a thrilling ride. [link]

More? Why not:

Recalling the best of female rock vocalists from Debbie Harry to Chrissie Hynde, Nirmala’s voice alternates from anxious and angry to pure sonic tenderness as the four boys behind her laydown seriously solid songs of punishing rhythm and dueling angular guitar work. Bust out your dancing shoes because with their nonstop four-on-the-floor disco beats and raging basslines, you won’t be able to stand still for long.[link]

Sisterfriend really gives my fav post-punkers Bloc Party a run for their angular danceability. I dare you to check out “Disco Blackout” and not twitch your feet! Continue reading →

S’cuze me Mister Hombre

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I’ve got a hot-off-the-press issue of GQ in my hands, and guess who I see? Mathangi “Maya” Arulpragasam, staring right back at me. sepiaMIA1.jpg

The article is titled “British Rule” (hmm…somehow so familiar, so soon) and it’s a style spread:

The hair, the sounds, the suits. For more than 40 years, the Brits have consistently defined the style of rock’n’roll. In this exclusive decade-spanning portfolio, photographer David Bailey proves that they’ve never looked sharper. [link]

David Bailey is, of course, an important figure in the music-fashion-celebrity matrix, seeing that a film was based on him and all. But who the hell are these musicians? Let’s see…we’ve got Pulp, and Blur. Beatles/Stones mentions: Eight. From the closest thing to a Brit OG (Paul Weller) to the youngest of the new tarts (Razorlight) everyone agrees that the Kinks were bloody marvelous and underappreciated. Sure, whatever….pleez. I could say more, but my fangs are already bloody.

Into this sea of insular uniformity they’ve thrown in the Sepia Idol herself, and she doesn’t disappoint: Continue reading →

Monday Movie

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Tired of Harold and Kumar? Want a desi film that asks more than “Where’s the Party, Yaar?” You’re in luck if you live in NY, because ImaginAsian Theater is screening Kaya Taran tonight at 7pm, followed by a discussion with the Director, Shashi Kumar. From the website (thanks Saurav!):

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blockquote> The film straddles two traumatic events in recent Indian history: the 1984 anti-Sikh carnage following the assassination of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and the anti Muslim riots in Gujarat in 2002…The film essentially deals with the dilemma of identity in a multicultural society that, every so often, turns volatile. Many aspects of the highly charged contemporary discourse find resonances in the film: the religious divide, the tyranny of the majority, the issue of religious conversions, the alienation of tribals from their hereditary land.[link]

Kaya Taran won the Aravindan Puraskaram award in 2004. If the description above sounds a bit heavy, check out the cast! The 100% fresh Bandit Queen stars: sepiakaya.jpg.jpg

The 107-minute-long film…is based on the Malayalam writer N. S. Madhavan’s short story titled “When Big Trees Fall”, set in the background of the anti-Sikh riots in 1984. The cast includes Seema Biswas, Angad Bedi, Neelambari Bhattacharya and Neetha Mohindra.[link]

TODAY, 7pm, @ImaginAsian Theatre, 239 59th Street NY, NY 10022. Continue reading →

Bombay, the Mehta Way

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In case you missed it in hardcover, Maximum City will be out in paperback next Tuesday. sepiabook2.jpg

I will spare you my opinion of the book since Suketu Mehta appears to be Sepia regular, but just for those who can’t get enough, the Columbia Journalism Review runs a highly entertaining interview with Mehta in next month’s issue.

His interviewing technique:

I was writing as I was speaking to these people. IÂ’d bring out my laptop.. one of their hit men might say, ‘You know, we had a job to kill somebody for their laptop last week.Â’ And IÂ’d say, ‘Yes, IÂ’m aware of that” …. I noticed this subliminal thing started happening where as they spoke, I was literally typing. My fingers were dancing, and they would look at me and pick up these cues from when IÂ’m typing or not. Now, in India the problem isnÂ’t getting people to talk, itÂ’s getting them to shut up or to stick to the topic. And I didnÂ’t have to tell them to stick to the topic, but..when they wandered off into a tangent IÂ’d still be nodding, but my fingers werenÂ’t dancing. And so they would, without my ever having to say anything to them, come back to the topic that I was interested in…

Writing as self-actualization:

Each chapter was a journey into myself, into my weaknesses and my strengths. And I asked myself, Why was I attracted to these tough boys? And itÂ’s because in school I was a weedy kid, and I always looked up to the tough boys. The short and the smart sat at the front of the class….in the back were the people who had failed the grade and were taking it again or the really tall kids and we called them the LLBs — the Lords of the Last Bench. And I always looked up to these guys. These were the ones who were good at cricket, could get the girls. And here they were — they were grown up, and they were my protectors.

Even a hitman’s got a conscience:

I remember one of the hit men saying, ‘It used to happen that after I killed, the soul of the man I kill will come and sit on my chest. But then a Muslim gangster taught me to sleep in a fetal position with my back to the door, so the soul doesn’t have access to my chest so I can sleep peacefully.’ Each one of them had different rationalizations, including the police.

Continue reading →