Author Archives: A N N A

Slightly Desi Daily Candy

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Fresh out of GMail this morning, it’s a missive from my belowed Daily Candy about some silver “fusion” jewelry which is designed and sold in Virginia:

Inspired by the sterling silver baby bells worn by tots in India, the ring adds a bit of cheer to any outfit. Use it to jazz up a casual look or add more pieces from the collection for a fancier occasion.

Worn by tots? I wear those…a “tot” am I? Newsflash: brown “tots” of all ages toy with payal/kolsu.

A bonus: Unlike the cheery adornments theyÂ’re based on, the rings do not jingle (thankfully). So your friends will have to find some other way to tell when youÂ’re approaching.

What? Why not? If they don’t make noise, then why bother with calling them bells? And if they are silent, how will I sing “I’m jingling baby (go ‘head, baby)” to myself, like a shameless idiot?

I’m serious– in my opinion, the delicate brightness of those tiny bells, trilling their metallic chime as they kiss the “S” clasp they are mounted near is one of the most gorgeous sounds around: feminine, whimsical, unexpected. Bells don’t have to hide until Chrismahannukwanzakah, not when they can chill with your ankles on a daily or weekly basis. Sheesh. Continue reading →

Where is Dr. Attari?

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On November 10th, Abhi posted about missing person Dr. Zehra Attari of San Jose. Dr. Attari left her Oakland office on November 7th to attend a medical conference in Alameda but something went horribly awry; this stable, responsible Auntie vanished, and authorities are troubled because it seems obvious at this point that foul play was involved:

…San Jose Police. Chief Rob Davis calls the AttariÂ’s a “good family” and believes Dr. Attari is missing against her will.

Vigils have been held back home in Northern California, a $20,000 reward has been publicized, local newspapers have kept the story alive, a blog has been created to disseminate information…and nothing. While the majority of us immersed ourselves in the warmth and affection of our loved ones last week, a brokenhearted family endured Thanksgiving without their wife and mother. Leads have dried up and since Dr. Attari’s 2001 Honda Accord is nowhere to be found, the possibility that she was in an accident seems less and less likely.

Erstwhile patients of the missing Pediatrician leave messages at her clinic, expressing concern for a woman who was obviously well-loved, who tended zealously to the needs of her low-income patients over the last seven years. My heart breaks when I think of Dr. Attari’s two daughters. My only sibling is a sister, and if our mother went missing after something as painfully routine as leaving work, I would crumble. Wouldn’t you? Please don’t forget this woman; you know you would call her Auntie if you were introduced to her, so act like she is yours– repost, forward, volunteer…and if you are so inclined, sign this petition which implores the FBI to get involved with this nightmarish case. While you do that, I’ll be praying for the Attari family, that they survive this ordeal, find answers, and peace. Continue reading →

Liveblogging ANTM’s mercifully brief trip to Bollywood (Updated!)

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nicole.jpg Breaking News which is Meaningless: A brown-ish designer, Ashley Isham, is one of the four people America’s Next (Nowhere Near) Top Model contestants go on a go-see with during this episode’s “challenge” in London. Contrary to every model friend I’ve ever had, THESE hapless girls are being told to wear something in the “style” of each designer, i.e. wear preppiness to Ben Sherman versus the typical jeans and no makeup MY friends rocked whenever they did anything.

The twist? The girls have to assemble their punk, preppy, mod and BOLLYWOOD outfits at some flea market. Winner gets a photo-shoot. A Bollywood photoshoot. (UPDATE: There ’tis, above/left.) Oh my. What any of this has to do with being a supermodel is beyond this bear of little brain. Lovely Malayalee Julie of ANTM3, we hardly knew ye, and ye would’ve rocked the shit out of this trifling test.

With the words, “so, look BOLLYWOOD” still ringing in my ears as four confused girls run off to buy something, anything sequined– but will they look appropriate for a frolic through the Swiss countryside?– I hereby notify you that this train wreck is on UPN RIGHT NOW on the east coast. You mutineers on my home coast still have 2.75 hours to get ready for this spicy jelly (Thanks, ANTM fan Rani!).

Liveblogging, after the jump… Continue reading →

Speak No Evil

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Muslims in Fatehpura burned an effigy of Sania Mirza on Tuesday. Miss Mirza’s transgression? Her publicly stated views on S-E-X. (Thanks, Raj!)

Muslim leaders said that their religion and holy book ‘Quran’ do not permit her to make such statment.[linky]

The article linked above provided no clue to the naughty view that burned poor Sania. Some googling turned up this:

She was quoted as saying that whether before or after marriage, the most important matter was that sex was safe. [linku]

Whoa, nellie. I knew SM (great initials on her, by the way) had plenty of balls, I just thought they were for tennis. Of course, there’s more to the story; Miss Thing had to recant.

In a statement issued in Hyderabad, Mirza said pre-marital sex could not be justified.
She said she was upset that her image had been maligned by misquotes and that such a non-issue had become a controversy.

We already know about the creepy effigy destruction. Check out how the tennis star’s detractors voiced their displeasure:

Some activists burned Mirza’s effigy and shouted “Sania Mirza down down”.

I’m not touching that last one. 😉 Continue reading →

55Friday: “This Woman’s Work” edition

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Happy holidays, sweet readers. Today is Black Friday and that’s actually a flawless description of the moment I’m typing in now. I’m feeling rather overwhelmed by the dark…mostly because I’m staying with my little sister and she’s sleeping, so I can’t turn on any lights. 😉 I’m also supposed to be vewy, vewy quiet, so she can hunt wabbits in her dweams, but she’ll have to tolerate the clickety-clacketing, since I have pirated wifi and as long as I have the mighty iBook and a connection, the 55 will go on. 🙂

I spent my day in transit; six hours of flying through three airports (with a two-hour layover) and one misplaced, gate-checked, carry-on bag later, I was back in the state where I once played as a toddler. I arrived in mukluks, the memory of last night/the season’s first gorgeous snow fall in DC dominating my thoughts like a new crush. Still swoony for Frosty, I stopped cold once I left the artificial climate of the airport and saw…a giant cactus. In 70 degree balminess. What an amazing country this is, from one end to the other.

My ultra-vegetarian family never did celebrate Thanksgiving (“such a typically American approach…to be grateful ONCE a year”), so I didn’t mind traveling today, but I looked at my fellow passengers on each PACKED leg of the journey and wondered about them. Surely they were trying to get home to a TurDuckEn or something brined or deep-fried. Maybe it even tasted familiar.

What did you eat? Did you create your own holiday with the family you chose vs the one you were born to, or did you go home? Did anyone gobble an all “brown” feast, with nary a cranberry in sight? Where YOU responsible for all that cooking?

Thanksgiving is for family but it’s usually staged by women. My Uncle in Maryland was a rare gent who cooked with Auntie, side-by-side; she handled the Amreekan fare while he made a most excellent sambar, to go with the Mallu portion of the menu. I remember adoring him for that. Most of my friends, no matter their ethnicity, had just their mothers stressing out over creation.

Women are the keepers of traditions, the path to religion and the source of life itself, which is why the following statistic (Thanks, Kenyandesi) left me queasy:

One in six women worldwide suffers domestic violence — some battered during pregnancy — yet many remain silent about the assaults, the World Health Organization (WHO) said on Thursday.

No, I’m not surprised that women are such targets, or that the pain is so widespread…but to put such an accessible number on it–again, “one in six”– is like a bracing slap in the midst of all this fuzzy, post-prandial contentment.

:+:

Each week I throw out themes because you seem to enjoy them, but I try to emphasize that no one minds what you write your nanofiction about, so long as you just write. So go ahead, write anything, and then leave your contribution (or link) to our beloved weekly project in the comments below. Continue reading →

They’re Lucky Champawat isn’t Alive

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tiger.jpg Yesterday when I was watching Oprah spoil people who selflessly gave up time, money and jobs to head South and volunteer with the victims of Katrina, the moment I broke down was right after a woman in the audience was lauded for her work in rescuing emaciated, terrified dogs who had been locked in closets. I mourn for all of Katrina’s casualties, but something about an animal being unable to scrawl, “HELP” on a roof makes me extra farklempt.

When I was in college, before I had my first german shepherds, tigers were what I adored. I took an International Law class at Davis just because we were going to focus on the CITES and Biodiversity treaties. I did all of my assignments on India’s tigers, and winced as I learned more about their situation. That was over a decade ago, but this story from ye olde BBC still makes me happy:

Four alleged poachers in the western Indian state of Rajasthan have confessed to killing tigers in the Ranthambore National Park, police say.
The hunters, who were arrested last week, have admitted to killing nine tigers and one leopard, police said.

Mock it if you care to, but it’s a start. The government of Rajasthan has also transferred two senior park officials for their inability to protect the only cats I’ve ever loved. We haven’t much time:

Tiger numbers at Ranthambore dropped to 26 from 47 last year, a census showed. Urgent action is needed to stop Indian tigers becoming extinct, activists say.

At least Ranthambore still HAS tigers. According to environmentalists, Rajasthan’s Sariska sanctuary has all of zero, down from over a dozen in the May before last’s census. Restocking the park is under consideration.

What’s depressing is that a few turtles (another animal I find sweet) might have been sacrificed for the aforeblogged arrests:

Police in the town of Kota near Ranthambore, about 200km (125 miles) south of the city of Jaipur, told the BBC the arrests resulted from information obtained during another investigation.

Continue reading →

55 Friday: The “Walking Down Madison” edition

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Since I’m experiencing worrisome technical difficulties AND I’m in transit, I’m going to err on the side of paranoia caution, break with tradition (if we can define seven weeks as such) and post this week’s nanofiction orgy early.

I went back and forth with regards to what I should do about this situation, since I am 99% sure I won’t be near my prrrecious iBook at 3am EST, when I usually come up with some hackneyed way to express my incredulity about how fast the week has gone by…blah yadda blah. I couldn’t bear to be tardy with our 55-fiesta, which is just uproarious because I am never punctual to ANYTHING. Shocking. I guess it’s love.

Since the “only city in the world” (does anyone else remember the Barney’s ad which stated this? I can’t find it on Google) is half the reason for all my fretful feelings, I think I’ve found our theme. New York. Or, your New York. My New York is heaven. There’s no place I’d rather be. Perhaps your New York is London, Bombay, Kampala…you get the idea.

Of course, you are welcome to write exactly 55 words of flash fiction about ANY topic your heart sweats; leave it or a link to where we might find it below, please. Spank you very much. Continue reading →

SF: Quake Benefit = Your Plans This Saturday Night

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On the wrong side of the country for kulfi?

Don’t fret, my pet- the mutiny has even more ways for you to help donate to the victims of the brown quake (Thanks, Yasmine and Raj). If I were back home on the left coast, there is no doubt about what I’d be doing this Saturday night (after getting two sublime mango lassis from VIK’s, that is):

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BEYOND BORDERS A Benefit for the Survivors of the South Asian Earthquake

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Saturday, November 19th, 7PM
Wheeler Auditorium
University of California Berkeley

100% of the proceeds go towards grassroots earthquake relief efforts in Pakistan and India – specifically, Edhi Foundation (Pakistan), Sungi Development Foundation (Pakistan), & Association for India’s Development’s Jammu and Kashmir Fund (India).

Get your tickets, visuals and other info here. The line-up looks as good as the aforementioned lassi:

Featuring

Farah Shaikh – Kathak Dance
Chhandam-Chitresh Das Dance Company
Shailja Patel – Spoken Word
Arshad Syed – Santoor
Shabi Farooq – Tabla
Rita Sahai – Hindustani Vocal
Vivek Anand & Ferhan Qureshi – Tabla
Kamal Hyder & Nasir Syed – Sitar Duet
Ferhan Qureshi -Tabla
Domestic Crusaders –
Pakistani American Theatre

A night of solid culture and the opportunity to help people who need it, who are the victims of a vicious natural disaster AND donor fatigue? That’s some cocktail of goodness. May you get intoxicated and then donate even more. Continue reading →

TOMORROW: Eat Ice Cream in DC, Help Quake Victims in Pakistan

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Blog Quake day came and went, but so much more still needs to be don(at)e(d).

Mushie was on NBC’s Today this morning, as Ann Curry asked him how much more his country needs; his answer was measured in the Billions.

My cousin Lisa sent me a forward with an easy way Mutineers in DC can help TOMORROW:

BEN & JERRY’s in Dupont Circle has graciously agreed to donate 25 % of your tab towards the South Asia Earthquake Relief Effort. The money will go directly to the Association of Pakistani Physicians of North America (APPNA). Please mention the cause when you purchase your ice cream.

An estimated 70,000-80,000 people have been killed and 2.7 million left homeless in the aftermath of a devastating earthquake that hit Pakistan, Kashmir and India on October 8th. With the harsh Himalayan winter rapidly approaching, death tolls are expected to double.

You CAN make a difference. Your contribution will be used on the ground in Pakistan to assist doctors and nurses treat the injured and prevent the spread of disease.

When: Wednesday, November 16th, 7:30-8:30p

Where: Ben & Jerry’s, 1333 19th Street NW

This is a wonderful idea– if any of you are coordinating similar fundraisers, please let us know. Mo’ notice, mo’ betta. Continue reading →

Slow Down, Be Careful

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pavaam kochu.JPG Once I finally decided to get my license at age 17, I made up for lost time with a vengeance. I had an amazing car and that alone seemed like a mandate to drive as if I were preparing to audition to be a stunt driver in movies like this. My father, who in thirty years of driving NEVER got a ticket or caused an accident, who thought cruise control was for dilettantes with poor muscle control, who regarded driving as one of the most serious responsibilities a person had, was predictably livid by the evidence of my passion for velocity; beyond the interesting wear pattern on my tires and my underwhelming fuel efficiency, the ever perceptive service staff at my dealer let him know that his daughter was certainly enjoying herself.

He was unable to impress upon me how vital it was to slow the fuck down until one day, while making me anxious by inhabiting the front passenger seat, he exhorted me to drive as if he weren’t in the car at all. Like every other teenager, I tended to drive as if I were in the car with a DMV official whenever a parent was with me. “Spare me your bullshit discipline, edi. I know you don’t really drive like this.” Smarting, I sulked for a moment instead of devoting all of my attention to the four-way stop we were atÂ…I had given a cursory look to my right and left and my lead foot was approaching the accelerator, to zip through the auto-free intersection.

I can still barely recall what happens next, and that is astonishing, considering my freakish ability to recount information like what my best friend “Eileen Perfume” was wearing during our Senior-year broadcasting class in high school, when we found out that LA was burning after the Rodney King verdict.

I still hadn’t mastered the art of accelerating without causing people’s heads to snap backwards in to the headrests, so I know the car must have lurched forward, thanks to a lethal combination of my impatience and an uber-responsive engine.

My father, who had a voice so powerful he never needed a microphone when he was up on the altar, shouted “STOP!”, the noise of his command more overwhelming than usual since we were in such a small space. I still shake and go weak when I think of what would have happened, had I made the same mistake my little sister made ten days in to HER career as a driver, when she accidentally hit the gas instead of the brakes at a stoplight. It’s so easy to do, especially when you are young, all the more so when you are in a panic. The lead foot landed in the middle of the floor, not the right and the familiar Antiblockiersystem pulse was as apprehensible as my own at that terror-filled moment. We lurched forward before being thrown back, seatbelts locking so tightly I felt like I was being strangled. Continue reading →