Author Archives: A N N A

How Dare You Insult My Papaya!

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I’m getting really sick of the unnecessary hate.

Rocker Ozzy Osbourne pulled out of an appearance on “American Idol” because of a former contestant’s hairstyle, according to reports.

As IF. Since when is Ozzy Osbourne fit to judge good hair?

The Black Sabbath star was slated to duet with Sanjaya Malakar on last week’s season finale, but cancelled at the last minute.
A source tells the New York Post’s Page Six column, “When he learned he would have to do a duet with Sanjaya, Ozzie said he didn’t want to be onstage with that idiot.”

Yeah. Insulting Sanjaya Malakar makes you very, very cool. Very edgy.

Aerosmith star Joe Perry was called up as Osbourne’s replacement on the talent-search TV show. [SFGate.com]

Perry, by the way, thought our Papaya was really nice. The video of their performance is here. Unlike some drug-addled has-beens who have the temerity to look down on such fruity goodness, Perry was a gentleman.

I’m not saying Sanjaya is perfect, but the level of criticism he receives is ridiculous and usually racist (though I’m not insinuating that race is at the root of this story). For bat’s sake, Ozzie– you could have said that you didn’t want to do the duet because young Malakar’s voice is awful, in your opinion, but there was no need to call him an idiot. Not when you yourself are guilty of THIS:

Osbourne admitted that, at the height of his drug addiction, he shot 17 cats:
“I was taking drugs so much I was a fucker, The final straw came when I shot all our cats. We had about 17, and I went crazy and shot them all. My wife found me under the piano in a white suit, a shotgun in one hand and a knife in the other”. [wiki]

Sanjaya should have said he didn’t care to be on stage with a cat-killer– oh, wait…he’s too nice and humble to do that. Continue reading →

55Friday: The “Hallelujah” Edition

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What was I supposed to say at that sorrow-saturated moment, when you stood behind security’s velvet rope, reaching out for me one last time? I couldn’t follow you to your gate, I can’t follow you in to hell, I must follow this war even more closely, because you have been deployed, though you weren’t supposed to be. fleeting sweetness.jpg

If we could all go back in time, would some of us have voted the way we did, if we knew this is where we would be in May of 2007? I didn’t vote for him and I certainly didn’t vote for this nightmarish occupation which causes nothing but anguish, for innocents cowering in their own homes, for the young, so very young men and women in uniform who witness that and for the relatives of those witnesses, who walk about in a depressed haze, worrying if the last time…was that the last good-bye?

Dazed, I now sleepwalk similarly through my days, wondering where you are, if you’ve had proper food (vegan? In the military??) and if you are okay. I can’t focus, I can’t sleep and I’m grateful to be an allergy sufferer, because it gives my tears and the perma-red eyes they descend from acceptable reasons to exist.

I miss you already, little sister and only sibling of mine. You will always be three to me, knobby knees and ankle socks, super-short hair and moody sweetness. I miss everything about you and I wish you could come home.

What kind of a war are we waging if we send people who just survived cancer scares over, I asked a mutineer. “We’re sending people with spinal cord injuries, what do you think?” was their reply. I think we should support our troops, by bringing them home NOW. And I felt that way before I knew they would take you, too.

That soul-crushing moment when I had to let you go, when I couldn’t stop hearing Jeff Buckley’s voice in my head crooning “Last Goodbye”, I lost every word in my expanded-thanks-to-Scripps-Howard vocabulary. I stumbled with my leaden tongue instead of my wobbly feet, awkwardly letting “bye”, “be well” and “take care of yourself” get muddled in to some nasty cliché cocktail. What I really wanted to tell you, was “I love you, so very much. You are precious to me and I will count the hours until you return.” But that truth never came out of my lips. At least I didn’t cry, not while you were looking. Only when the tram took you away from me did my tear ducts release pain and fear. And Buckley was there again:

There’s a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn’t matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah
I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah [Cohen]

I did my best, Kalyani. It wasn’t much. Continue reading →

Rajasthan’s 5.5 Million Gujjars Want a Downgrade

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From our news tab, via the Times Online:

For thousands of years India’s ethnic Gujjars have been looked down on by much of society, as they were traditionally pastoralists who raised sheep, goats and water buffalo.
Now, as India approaches the 60th anniversary of its independence, the Gujjars have had enough, and are demanding that their social status be changed. But in an unusual example of how caste works in modern India, they want to be downgraded to the lowest level so that they can benefit from an affirmative action scheme.
Tens of thousands of Gujjars have blocked roads and railway lines in the northwestern state of Rajasthan since Tuesday, accusing the local government of reneging on a promise to lower their status. At least 15 people, including two police officers, have been killed in rioting when the Gujjars repeatedly set alight police property and attacked government offices.

They’ve deployed the Indian Army to regulate this hot mess, especially since it is now affecting tourism.

The violence has fuelled criticism of India’s affirmative action scheme under which lower castes are given preferential access to government jobs and education…

I have heard of Scheduled Castes and Other Backward Classes, but I hadn’t heard of Scheduled Tribes. I await your scathing declarations of how I am a stupid ABCD who knows nothing about India and should therefore shut up. Whatevs, yo. I just found the following paragraph helpful, since the entire reservations/caste furor IS confusing for this bear of little brain.

The Hindu caste system, which enforces a strict social hierarchy from brahmins at the top to dalits at the bottom, was outlawed after India became independent in 1947. But to correct its injustices the Government divides the lower levels of society into Scheduled Castes (SC), Scheduled Tribes (ST) and Other Backward Classes (OBC). SC includes untouchables and others at the bottom; ST consists of ethnic minorities and OBC comprises other people who were traditionally discriminated against.

Regarding the “downgrade”, the Gujjars want to switch from OBC to ST status.

::

Now be honest girls, how many of you are thinking of a certain commercial since I’ve used the term “downgrade” excessively? 😉

Speaking of things in XS, that website is excessively LOUD. I was wearing headphones when I discovered it; I think I’m partially deaf now. Continue reading →

Stop Your Hooking

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Because Akka loves you, she feels like nagging your misbehaving kundis about something you should not do (via the AP and one anonymous tipster on the news tab):

Smoking a hookah may be as dangerous as cigarettes, the World Health Organisation said, adding that more research was needed into the link between the use of the water pipe and several fatal illnesses. It said that a person can inhale a hundred times more smoke – a mixture of tobacco, molasses and fruit flavours – in a hookah session than in one cigarette. Hookah, or shisha, smoking is a tradition in North Africa and the Middle East. [Linkaya]

I’ve heard so many people declare that smoking a hookah is “nowhere near as dangerous” as “regular” smoking, I had to post this. I hope those delusional darlings are reading this and realigning their thoughts accordingly.

Also, while the blurb states that Shisha is popular in North Africa and the Middle East, it is also popular with brown people, especially the annoying ones who won’t quit staring at Prince Cafe in Georgetown, at 3am when all a girl is trying to do is innocently get her mirchi Aloo Chole on. What is it with our people and the shameless gawking?

It would be one thing if this were Iowa circa 1968 and two lonely Namesake-era desis were curiously gazing at each other in a room full of Amreekans, the desire for recognition, i.e. that knowing “gang recognize gang”-moment apparent on their homesick visages, but this is D.C. and out of the sixty people at Prince, the only white guy is the Romanian Orthodox dude behind the counter. We have taken over. The “Arrrre you Yindian??”-bit is thus uncalled for in this uberdesi day and age.

Wait, what was I saying? Oh yeah. QUIT EFFING SMOKING. That hacking cough ain’t attractive, y’all. Back to your regularly scheduled troll-baiting, spelling bee-dissing and witty comment-making then. Continue reading →

How to Save A Life

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vinay and rashmi.jpg

A tragedy, in five lines;

This is Vinay and his wife Rashmi.

They were married in 2005.

He was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia in 2006.

He is 28.

He needs a bone marrow transplant, in the next six weeks.

If you aren’t already part of the National Marrow Donor Program registry, please consider what you would be going through if this were your little brother, childhood friend or husband. Wouldn’t you want as many desis as possible to be in the database? Vinay’s greatest hope lies with someone like him, but the number of us who are registered is so low, it’s pathetic.

All it takes is a few minutes of your time. A swabbed cheek. And maybe, with that selfless gesture, you increase the chances that this person who probably has so much in common with you goes on to live the life we all deserve.

This is what Vinay’s parents have to say:

We cannot express in words what this is like. All we can do is implore you to close your eyes for a moment, and imagine that this is your son, your brother, your best friend. We are guessing you would move heaven and earth to help save his life…
Vinay is the world to us – he is warm, funny, loving. We have watched him grow from a little baby, to a young boy playing sports, to a fine young man determined to be a doctor, to a man marrying the girl of his dreams. Please help us help our son have a chance to live – to be with his wife, with us, and his friends. [Hema and Partha]

Drives are planned in Fremont, Cerritos, Anaheim and Livermore; additional information may be found here. Speaking of additional information, when I numbly surfed through Vinay’s website, the following three points made me cringe:

When a Caucasian is looking for a match they find 15 matches on an average where as opposed to an Indian they might find one match or none.
This can happen to anyone at any age and god forbid if you get into similar situation then this will be the only registry that will come to rescue.
There is no such registry in India and when an Indian kid is looking for a marrow match this registry is the only resort. [HelpVinay.org]

We’ve written about others whose lives were similarly threatened by our failure to represent in such a vital way. What would it take to move you to get involved? Would it matter if I told you that like every 8th desi, he’s from Fremont?

That he went to Ardenwood and eventually UCB (though not this UCB)?

That his favorite books were The Hobbit and Midnight’s Children?

That he liked The Godfather (but only 1 and 2), Garden State and Million Dollar Baby?

That he’s Seshu “Tiffinbox” Badrinath’s cousin?

He listens to Coltrane, Miles Davis and 2pac?

And yes, like every male I know, he likes to watch Scrubs and Sportscenter?

Do you identify with him yet? I pray you do. Because one of you could be his match and that would be the sweetest thing. My Uncle died of Leukemia and I’m sure each of us knows someone else who has been similarly affected. Continue reading →

Rape of the Lock: Brown on Brown Hate Crime?

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Our tip lines have been exploding about a New York incident involving a Sikh high school student who was assaulted; his turban was ripped off and then his hair, which had never been shorn, was cut against his will. Unfortunately for those of you who kept submitting the story, there were crickets chirping in the bunker this weekend. Our delay in blogging it was not a reflection of whether we feel the issue was important or not.

Here are the facts I have gleaned from the various links sent in:

  • The Sikh boy was trading “Yo Mama”-like insults with two others
  • Things got out of hand
  • He tried to apologize
  • He was informed that the only way to do so would be a haircut (WTF?)
  • That’s when he was dragged in to a bathroom and cut
  • Two other boys served as “lookouts”
  • All the boys may or may not have been friends
  • The teenaged defendant is a Muslim of Pakistani descent
  • Other desi students said this was anomalous for their school.

From the Queens D.A.’s press release:

District Attorney Brown said that, according to the charges, just after 12:00 noon on May 24, 2007, the defendant, armed with a pair of scissors, approached 15-year-old Vacher Harpal in the hallway of Newtown High School, located at 48-01 90th Street, and stated, “I have to cut your hair.” When Harpal asked, “For what, it is against my religion,” the defendant allegedly displayed a ring with Arabic inscriptions and stated, “This ring is Allah. If you don’t let me cut your hair, I will punch you with this ring.” It is alleged that Harpal initially refused to go into the bathroom with the defendant because he feared that the defendant would hurt him with the scissors.
Once inside the bathroom, it is alleged that Harpal removed his dastar while crying and begging the defendant not to cut his hair, which had never been cut and fell past his waist. The defendant is then alleged to have used the scissors to cut Harpal’s hair to the neckline and thrown the hair into the toilet and onto the floor. [link]

Is this a hate crime? Or just juvenile stupidity and roughhousing gone too far? Continue reading →

Benetton Takes on Bruises – UPDATED

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Just got back home from the long weekend to see the Benetton advert above. It was in my inbox, posted at SAJA’s ad-savvy blog and mais oui, on our news tab, via an Anonymous Tipster who wrote:

Benetton’s Colors of Domestic Violence campaign features desi survivor? On the one hand, nice effort. On the other: color-coordinating the bruises with the sweaters? Tasteless.

I don’t know if the woman is a DV survivor or a model, but I think the image is opinion-provoking. I want to know how many of you agree with the nameless mutineer who had mixed feelings about the execution of a very important public service announcement. As a DV witness and survivor, I think anything which draws pain out in to the light where it can be confronted is a good thing.

Domestic violence is a concept in constant rotation on this blog; I can grimly recall how many of you have come forward to reveal in our comments section how you have experienced DV yourselves, either directly or indirectly. That’s not to say that this is a horror we brown have a monopoly on by any means; to that end, Benetton does have ads with other “bruised” women of various ethnicities, which you can see here.

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On a less serious tangent: how does this make you feel about Benetton? Positive, negative, no change? Is this just more un(desi)red P.R. stunting?

I’ve worn and loved them since back in the day (16 years!) so I’m a bit biased, especially since they make my current favorite little black dress (worn to the infamous man-harem meetup, no less), but I think that even if I didn’t already sweat those United Colors, I’d be positively disposed towards a brand which tried to address DV in such an unflinching fashion. What about you?

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THIS IS NOT A BENETTON AD CAMPAIGN! Not only did one of you direct us to a Salon blurb about this intriguing development, the original link submitted to our news tab had the following statement in its comments section:

Dear All,
this is NOT a United Colors of Benetton advertising campaign. Please don’t be deceived, see the official Benetton Group website www.benettongroup.com

Best regards,
Federico Sartor
Direttore Stampa e Comunicazione Istituzionale
Benetton Group
Tel. 39 0422 519036
Fax 39 0422 519930
www.benettongroup.com/press
www.benettonpress.mobi

Curiouser and curiouser… Continue reading →

On The Considerable Benefits of Pineapple Juice

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haagen dazs.jpg Oh. My. Gawd. Babli. Look at her blog.

It’s like, out there, I mean – gross. Look! She’s just so…FAQ.

With sincerest apologies to Sir with love, but I could not resist. I just read Uberdesi and it immediately had me reminiscing (I reminisce, I reminisce) about high school thanks to the blunt advice contained in one of its latest posts; the straightforward way it handled questions everyone wondered about but almost no one dared ask reminded me of Sassy magazine’s shocking candor. How could I not also recall furtive curiosity, the novelty of espresso drinks, 90210 and most definitely, “Baby Got Back” on auto-repeat in my Pioneer.

Yes, ladkas and ladkis. Akka be so old, her first car didn’t have no bougie CD player. Uh-uh. “Auto-repeat” meant that the stereo would smack it up, flip it and rub it down for me and by that I mean, I didn’t have to physically take out the tape and reinsert it to hear the other side, not that any of you youngsters can relate to this in any way. Haha. I said “reinsert”. (Told you I was in a puerile mood).

So there’s a reason why I’ve got fornication on the brain and it’s all Uberdesi’s fault. Their blogger Amrita wrote a post with a title so naughty, I shan’t repeat it here, but I’ll quote from it liberally because any desi with a healthy attitude towards sexuality deserves some fame and appreciation.

Here’s the deal, your juices are altered by what you eat. While I can’t get enough of mamma’s fish curry, I might have to fight the gag reflex with a mouth full of fishy swimmers. Urban dictionary defines fish curry as, “the vagina of an Indian female.” Not so yummy.

That’s just wrong. I’m really sick of the “tastes like curry” remark. Enough already. What am I not sick of? Lines like this which make me laugh so inappropriately, I forget to be upset:

Who wants to be known for having a spicy taco?

No comment. 😉

Alcohol, caffeine, drugs, and heavy spices among other culprits can cause the funk-nasty taste.

And then, because Amrita is a helpful sort of gf, she breaks it down.

Here are a few tips:
*Drink tons of water and flush out your system.
*Eat plenty of fruits. As if one needed a reason to splurge on heavenly Indian mangoes. Pineapple juice supposedly does miracles.

Omnivores! I am windicated! Amrita says so:

*Eat plenty of veggies. Stay away from foul smelling veggies like asparagus, cabbage or cauliflower. This is a plus for the non-meat eaters as vegetarians taste better.
*Cut down on chowing down on spices like garlic and onion if you want someone to chow down on you.
*Cleanse out your system with green juice (parsley or wheat grass with a pinch of cardamom, cinnamon, lemon or mint).

Wheatgrass with cardamom? I didn’t think you could make those shots of freshly shorn lawn palatable, but hey, I’ll give it a try…for my health, of course. What other reason? 😉

Oh and families of suitable boys: if you are reading this, I have no idea what I am writing, I just blog what they tell me to, okay? This proves that I have the submissive proclivities you hope for in a bahu while establishing that I am very chaste; never would I ever find blog posts about what shame shames could or should taste like interesting. Nope. Not me. I am also not going to the store for some pineapple juice nor will I be purchasing a mango anytime soon. Nooooo. I don’t do things like that. 😉 Continue reading →

“The Over-Accesorized Label Lover” – UPDATED

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The LV which is unfortunately fug.JPG

Sometimes, you mutineers will see a story which you practically demand we post. After New York Magazine’s “The Look Book” slyly dissed and dismissed a brownie who works in Private Equity who emphasized,

“I love to consume. Consuming is my specialty.”

…some of you started screeching louder than the Howler monkeys in the bunker—and that’s saying a LOT.

Natasha Mitra (r) was interviewed by Amy Larocca and though I was also left smirking at the catty aftermath, I immediately heard the diminutive angel on my shoulder remind me that we don’t know how many questions were asked and then not included, whether Mitra’s words were edited to paint her a certain way, etc.

Having typed that, if my little sister sounded like this, I’d beat her with my red Ferragamo loafer. Not that there’s anything wrong with…sounding…like…this. 😉

Such big accessories!
My bag was a really special purchase. I work with this woman at Louis Vuitton—she picks things out for me, sends pictures, and tells me to pick what I like. She called one day and was like, “I picked a bag for you, and I’m sending it to your house because I know you’re going to love it.” I think it’s called the Stratus.
How old are you?
I’m 26.
Was the bag expensive?
Yes—about $3,500. I guess a lot of craftsmanship goes into it. Accessories for me are the key. I have about twenty bags, and I don’t know how many shoes. But they’re Vuitton, they’re Versace, they’re Gucci, and they’re Dior.
And your sunglasses?
They’re D&G. I was really excited to find them. They’re wild and crazy and different.
What do you do for a living?
I work in private equity. I love the sector that I work in, which is the consumer and retail group. It’s an area that I’m passionate about. I love to consume. Consuming is my specialty.
You picked the right career.
I’m going to Harvard Business School in September. Moving is definitely going to be the most difficult part of the experience.

Thoughts? After reading some of your emails, I’m tempted to respond with a “Tell us what you REALLY think”, but I’m certain you will already do that. I also look forward to the inevitable, “I know her, and, and–” which will appear below at some point. TWO DEGREES of separation, people. The fact that we couldn’t prove it with two random desi models doesn’t mean the theory is invalid, aight? Continue reading →

Don’t Want No Dark, Dark Man…

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Avishkar and several other mutineers sent in a story tip from Reuters about a rather unusual wedding complication, so I realized I better post it ASAP, lest I see it in my inbox yet yanother time. 😉

When it came to our color-obsessed culture, I thought it was the girl’s complexion which mattered. I guess turnabout is fair play. Sort of.

Turned down for marriage due to his dark complexion, an Indian man staged a hunger strike outside his would be bride’s house for two days before she finally relented, an official said Saturday.

Didn’t he know they make fairness creams for the new, metrosexual, dark brown man?

Saral Prasad, the 23-year-old groom in eastern Bihar state, said he would not budge from the girl’s village home after she refused to marry him earlier this week in an arranged marriage because he was too dark.
Rajani, 19, changed her mind after two days and the couple got married, Arun Kumar Mishra, a village council official said.
“We were all taken by surprise but Rajani was finally moved by the gesture of the young man and married him,” Mishra said.

Rajani was not quoted as saying, “I just want everyone to shut up and go away already, for Pinter’s sake”.

Most Indian women, especially those in rural areas, often have no choice in matters of marriage, and are coerced into it by relatives and parents.

Yes, of course..we Indian women have no choice with regards to anything and are coerced in to everything we do. Just this past Saturday, at the meetup, I was coerced in to drinking my Madras coffee later than I wanted to, because our poor waiter was so overwhelmed with 26 people ordering at once, he forget that I asked for it. Thrice. Obviously his being an Indian male was why he oppressed me by not sating my caffeine fix. :p And yes, yes…the meetup write-up…it is coming. Continue reading →