Dancing in the Family

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He is tall, slim, and strikingly long limbed. Dressed in jewel-colored silk tunics and antique ornaments that are family heirlooms, he looks more like a handsome young maharaja than a traditional South Indian dancer. Newsweek

Yes, I know, vomit, it sounds like more exoticizing pablum from a mainstream media source. But getting past the opening drivel, this article (posted in the news tab, thanks Brij01!) turned out to be about a rather fascinating family:

Aniruddha Knight is the ninth generation heir of a 200-year-old family of professional dancers and musicians from Chennai, India. He is also half American. His father, Douglas Knight, married into this artistically rich family when he studied classical drumming on a South Indian mridangam at Wesleyan University, where Aniruddha’s late grandmother–T. Balasaraswati, India’s prima danseuse–and her two musician brothers had taught since 1962.

Aniruddha followed his mother and grandmother, continuing the family’s bharatanatyam tradition:

Knight is fluent in Tamil, his mother’s language, and spends half a year in India, performing and learning from aunts and cousins who had worked with his mother. He has established a school and an archive of family history in Chennai. (The Smithsonian boasts an archive of Bala’s performances, too.) It houses all the records of his grandmother’s performances.

About his mixed parentage:

“It’s isolating to identify with two cultures, it creates a split personality. I can never be just one or the other, it’s a heartwrenching lonely process. But then, what I have, many don’t have.”

Those against mixed marriages often cite fear of waning traditions, culture, language, etc., as a reason to date within one’s own ethnic community. So it’s heartwarming to see this family’s artistic legacy continuing on, and even thriving, under the stewardship of its youngest, half-desi member. But do other half-desis feel the same sense of loneliness and isolation? Continue reading

I.C.E.D better than GTA-IV

I really wish I could have been playing the new video game Grand Theft Auto IV this week. Unfortunately I don’t own a gaming system. I used to be an obsessive gamer as a kid so its best that I don’t go near one now that I have real responsibilities (like blogging). I can however, get my fix online. I’ve been trying my hand at a game that looks similar to GTA-IV. Instead of smacking hos and jacking cars, I’ve been learning about “my” rights as an immigrant child. The game is I.C.E.D. (I Can End Deportation):

Breakthrough’s video game, ICED, puts you in the shoes of an immigrant to illustrate how unfair immigration laws deny due process and violate human rights. These laws affect all immigrants: legal residents, those fleeing persecution, students and undocumented people.

ICED has been featured in overwhelming amounts of press including: MTV News, Game Daily and has been covered on popular blogs including, Gothamist and The Huffington Post. To get a full list of media, please look at the left-hand tool bar.

How do you play?

THE OBJECT OF THE GAME IS TO BECOME A CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES

Game Play:
As an immigrant teen you are avoiding ICE officers, choosing right from wrong and answering questions on immigration. But if you answer questions incorrectly, or make poor decisions, you will be detained with no respect for your human rights. [Link]

Is your knee jerk reaction that you think this game might exaggerate the plight of immigrant kids, especially those brought over by undocumented parents? Think again. More about that later, after the fold. Continue reading

Blurring Borders in Ramchand Pakistani

In their book Borders and Boundaries, editors Ritu Menon and Kamla Bhasin write: “As an event of shattering consequence, Partition retains its pre-eminence even today, despite two wars on our borders and wave after wave of communal violence. … Each new eruption of hostility or expression of difference swiftly recalls that bitter and divisive erosion of social relations between Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs, and each episode of brutality is measured against what was experienced then.”

This statement speaks directly to the premise of Pakistani director Mehreen Jabar’s debut film Ramchand Pakistani, which recently premiered in NY at the Tribeca Film Festival. Based on a series of true events which took place in 2002—during a period where India and Pakistan were on the brink of war—it is the story of one innocent Hindu Dalit family which became a victim of the national hostilities that have permeated Indo-Pak relations since partition. Ramchand at the border.JPG The story begins in a small, dusty border village in on the Pakistan side of the Thar desert. Ramchand (Fazal Hussain) is the willful, naughty son of a Hindu Dalit farmer Shankar (Rashid Farooqi) and his wife Champa (played by Nandita Das). One morning, when Ramchand gets into an argument with his mother, he skips school and goes for a walk in the desert terrain bordering his father’s farm. Without realizing it, he crosses over into Indian territory. His father follows him to bring him back, but it’s too late. Indian patrol officers, suspicious of their motives (“Are you Pakistani spies?”) take both of them into custody.

For the next five years, Ramchand and his father are trapped in a bureaucratic prison system in India, where despite the lack of evidence that they did anything wrong, it is impossible to release them because of a longstanding battle of wills between the Indian and Pakistani governments. The film follows Ramchand’s coming of age in a prison where he and his father share a cell with Indians and Pakistanis, many of whom made the mistake of “crossing over” and have gotten lost in the shuffle. Continue reading

Hot Breads = Teh Yum

A few weeks ago we were in North Jersey, and went with friends to a new restaurant called “Hot Breads,” in Parsippany. I thought the idea of a cafe style restaurant along these lines was great, and I immediately thought, “hey, someone should open one of these down in Philadelphia!” When I got home, I hit Google, and discovered there are already two within 20 miles of my house, not to mention numerous franchises in California, Georgia, Maryland, Illinois, New York, Texas, and Virginia. [UPDATE: Abhi also gave his own take on this place two years ago, in this SM post]

Hot Breads specializes in stuffed croissants (tandoori chicken, paneer, etc.), but also offers a menu of other light foods (wraps, chaat, desi-style pizza) as well as dessert pastries. (See a typical menu here [PDF].) The format itself is a nice change from a typical Indian restaurant — with the year-round Christmas lights and sometimes shoddy service.

After the Parsippany experience, we went to the one in Lansdale/North Wales, and liked it even better. I particularly liked the Dabeli, a kind of Gujarati version of Vada Pav. I also found my Chicken Tikka wrap quite satisfying, and the chutney free version of the “Bombay Sandwich” we got for Puran was also good. We got stuffed Croissants to go, though perhaps they suffered a bit by being not quite as fresh when we actually ate them the next day. Next time, I’ll be curious to try the “Alu Chilli Pizza” — or perhaps the “Pav Bhaji Pizza.”

Oh, and everything tastes better with Limca!

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“The Age of Shiva” — a Review

I was surprised by how much the others in my book group didn’t like Manil Suri’s The Age of Shiva. The biggest complaint was from the mothers in the group (including my better half), who didn’t like Suri’s use of a first/second person narrative method (the novel is written in the voice of a woman named Meera, addressed to her son, Ashvin). Several people said they didn’t think Suri really pulled off the trick of writing about the intimate space of family life from a woman’s point of view.

Reading as a man, I didn’t notice anything implausible or false, though obviously I can’t be the judge. Certainly, some of the intimate passages regarding things like Meera’s breastfeeding of her son are quite risky (starting with the opening paragraphs of the novel; you can hear Suri read them aloud here). I find the opening a bit stylistically overwrought (the novel quickly shifts to a more conventional style), but it’s still, I think, plausible.

(Chandrahas Chowdhury, reviewing the novel in the Guardian, wasn’t bothered by this aspect, but by the novel’s use of Indian history. Jabberwock, whose opinion I respect greatly, loved the novel, and found Suri’s attempt at a woman’s point of view convincing. Then again, both reviewers are men. The only review of the novel by a woman I’ve come across is by Caryn James, in the New York Times — and she doesn’t take issue with Suri along these lines. Still, I wonder what readers thought?)

Though I suspect some other readers may share my book group’s distaste, I did think The Age of Shiva had some real strengths. Continue reading

Abhisheks and Pujas endangered in India

Can you imagine a world without any boys named Abhishek or girls named Puja? I simply can’t! It is too horrible and sad to even contemplate (unless it raises the worth of existing Abhisheks and Pujas). A generation from now, that’s where we might be headed if these crazy food prices don’t start to come down and these rituals become obsolete. The Washington Post on Wednesday described the growing problem in sad detail:

Every morning, Hindu devotees haul buckets of fresh, creamy milk into this neighborhood temple, then close their eyes and bow in prayer as the milk is used to bathe a Hindu deity. At the foot of the statue, they leave small baskets of bananas, coconuts, incense sticks and marigolds… But recently, Ram Gopal Atrey, the head priest at Prachin Hanuman Mandir, noticed donations thinning for the morning prayers. He knew exactly why: inflation.

With prices soaring for staples such as cooking oils, wheat, lentils, milk and rice across the globe, priests like Atrey say they are seeing the consequences in their neighborhood temples, where even the poorest of the poor have long made donations to honor their faith.

“But today the common man is tortured by the increases in prices,” Atrey lamented during one early morning prayer, or puja, adding that donations of milk were down by as much as 50 percent. [Link]

Without milk you cannot shower the Siva Lingam properly (hence, no Abhishek). Blame it on gas prices. The main reason that milk is becoming so expensive in India is because it costs more to ship that milk around by automobile. Dudhwallas no longer carry as much straight from the local cow.

In New Delhi, the price of rice rose by 20 percent and the price of lentils by 18 percent in the past year. Cooking oil prices have climbed by 40 percent over the same period. The price of milk, which is essential in both diets and religious rituals, rose more than 11 percent in the past year.

Milk is literally the nectar of gods in India. Most temples in the south use it at least twice a day to bathe Hindu statues, since it symbolizes the eternal goodness of human beings and is seen as a generous offering to the faith. [Link]

In rough times like this you can begin to see part of the origin of vegetarianism in Hinduism. If you ate cows then the precious milk which sustains so much of the malnourished population would become even more scarce. Better to “make” beef sacrilegious lest you fall up hard times like these and be without. Now if we could have a reformation where the use of gasoline was deemed by many religions as being sacrilegious as well.

All humor aside, the food crisis is increasingly worrisome. Poor people spend a vastly greater portion of their earnings on food than people who are better off. If you squeeze them even more AND you take away their ability to pray in a traditional manner at the same time, that’s a powder keg of misery just waiting to go off, not just in India, but in many parts of this world.

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Simon Cowell, Meet Tigerstyle

Chickpea has been sending us tips for this video:

This is way better than Sanjaya, or that Pakistani dude who was on “America’s Got Talent” last year. And it has to be the widest exposure that Tigerstyle track (“Nachna Onda Nei”) has ever gotten. (I wonder who, if anyone, is getting royalties — since they’re sampling both Michael Jackson AND Vanilla Ice/David Bowie).

Simon’s question at the end is prescient, though. There’s not many Bhangra/pop/hip hop tracks that work as well as this one. (I seem to remember another Tigerstyle track that channels Bell Biv Devoe — perhaps that’s what these guys should do next…? Any suggestions for Suleman Mirza and Madhu Singh on how to keep up the surprise in round 2?) Continue reading

Posted in TV

Metallic Identity

When I was in India in January, I ended up hanging out at Mumbai airport for about 4 hours while waiting for a domestic flight. In one corner of the terminal was a group of twenty-something year-olds – mostly boys and two girls or so — all dressed in jeans and tee-shirts, all with longish flippy hair. One of them was carrying a guitar and they were all sitting in a circle, close together, humming, strumming, and singing English songs that sounded like a cross between David Byrne and Bon Jovi. I tried to park myself near them and kept trying to figure out their story. I never did–it was the middle of the night and I was an unabashed victim of jetlag–but in my mind, I’d made up a story about them — they were college buddies traveling together (probably to Goa); maybe they were even a band, getting amped to sit on the beach around a campfire singing their songs after a full-moon rave at Anjuna Beach. …

I was reminded of this scene when I read Akshay Ahuja’s feature essay on the Indian subculture of heavy metal in the April issue of Guernica, a print and online magazine of art and politics. In “Death Metal and the Indian Identity”, writer Akshay Ahuja is asked to carry a guitar to India for his father’s colleague’s son. The guitar is to be delivered to Pradyam, who is part of “a semi-pro death metal band” called Cremated Souls (now defunct).cremated souls.jpg

A simple guitar delivery leads Akshay Ahuja into the vibrant subculture of heavy metal in India, as he becomes friends with Pradyam and his band members, many of whom work at call centers.

There are several sections in the piece where the author makes small observations about the little differences and nuances between India and America, cultural and otherwise. These gave me pause, not only because some of them rang true, but also because I enjoyed the way they were being articulated in a very specific context.

For example:

A few days later Pradyum came to my parents’ house on a black Royal Enfield motorcycle, wearing a leather jacket. He was strong and well-built. I found out later that until a few years ago, he had been serious about track and field before a scooter accident had crushed his leg. Pradyum would drop me off several times after this, but this was the only time he came inside. He was always afraid that he smelled like cigarettes (he smoked constantly) and that this would offend my parents. Once in the house, he complimented my mother on her beautiful home—and such a nice garden! This immense politeness was strangely incongruous. Looking just like James Dean, he had all the American gestures of rebelliousness, but without the appropriate American attitude.

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Reminder: Jindal on Leno tonight

As I mentioned last week, Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal will be on Leno tonight in a show he taped earlier. If Leno is on past your bedtime then you can read the full transcript here:

Leno: So, tell us Bobby. If John McCain came asking or begging you to be vice president, you’re telling us you will say “no”.

Jindal: Jay, again, I would be honored but I have a job to do and that is to be the governor of all of the people in Louisiana, republicans and democrats, rich and poor, young and old.

Leno: Spoken like a politician Bobby. You are learning fast. But, getting back to the question. Would you say absolutely say I would not serve as Vice President if asked. Remember you would be a heart beat away from the Oval Office and McCain is no “spring chicken”. Are you telling the nation tonight you would not serve no matter what?

Jindal: Jay, I have a job to do. I was voted into office by a large majority. I want to be the best Governor Louisiana has ever had and we have really had some real colorful clowns in the past.

Leno: So, that is the best we will get from you tonight, right.

Jindal: I have spoken repeatedly about this issue explaining my feelings, so let’s talk about how Louisiana is becoming a major force to be reckoned now and in the future.

Leno: Governor, first, I’ve been wondering. Tell me. How did an Indian American become Governor of the same state that almost put David Duke in the mansion a decade or so ago? Did you buy his list or something?

Jindal: (laughs) Well, Louisiana has changed so much in the past decade and will do so even more during my administration. I am pleased that the son of an Indian immigrant could become Governor in the Deep South. I was born in Baton Rouge, am an American and am dedicated to turning Louisiana around after years of neglect and poor leadership. [Link]

I have to say, he is saying all the words a person who’d accept and invitation to be VP should be saying. I don’t think you’d HAVE to resign your Governor’s job to be a Vice Presidential running mate. I guess it is in his advantage to keep his name in the spotlight by not dismissing the idea. I’ll link the video once its up.

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Notes From a Punjabi Literature Conference in Vancouver

I was recently in cool Vancouver to give a talk at a conference on Modern Punjabi Literature. The conference was at the University of British Columbia, and it was hosted by the Asian Studies department (where they have a strong program in Punjabi language instruction, part of which includes the study of literature in Punjabi).

The community was invited in, and they most definitely came — including a number of poets and novelists in Vancouver’s surprisingly large Punjabi language writers’ community. One of the best-known Punjabi poets in Vancouver is of course Sadhu Binning, who has also taught the Punjabi language at UBC for more than 20 years (he’s now retiring, sadly). His collection, “No More Watno Dur” is one of the very few collections of Punjabi poetry I’ve seen to be published in a bilingual edition (which is especially helpful for someone like me — a person who reads Punjabi only haltingly, and always with reference to a dictionary).

Among the many other writers in attendance, it was great to meet, for instance, the Punjabi-Pakistani-Canadian poet, Fauzia Rafiq (who didn’t mention she had a blog!). Another writer who seems well worth checking out is Ajmer Rode.

At the poetry reading on the last night of the conference, Nadeem Parmar sang a ghazal in Punjabi. I Googled him today, and was surprised to find that he’s written lyrics for many well-known singers, including Jagjit Singh. I also Googled Darshan Singh Gill, and was intrigued to find that he had actually been featured in a CBC documentary about new immigrants in Canada, back in 1958. And those were just a few of the names.

I met a Dhol player who plays for a “world music”/fusion group called “Delhi To Dublin”, which seems worth checking out. He also plays Dhol for a “pure” Bhangra group called En Karma. (There might be another post about these Vancouver bands once I’ve had a chance to listen to the music.)

Those are some links to start off. After the jump, I’ll discuss some of the more substantial issues discussed at the conference.

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