Category Archives: Arts and Entertainment

Let’s Arrange a Marriage, Shall We?

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What the huck.JPG I recently posted about a man in Tamil Nadu named P. Selvakumar who was advised by his astrologer to marry a dog to atone for his past cruelty; when he was younger, he had stoned a pair of mating dogs and then hung them from a tree, to die. After his deplorable act, he apparently lost his hearing and became paralyzed.

If only he had been the son of a powerful politician in Amreeka. Then he would have blessed enough to get away with it, grow up and continue to display very disturbing behavior!

You see, once upon a time mutineers, in a state far, far away…okay, it was Arkansas, but still, there was a teen who was wicked. His name was David Huckabee and while he was leading a boy scout camp in 1998, he murdered a defenseless dog.

Do you see where I’m going with this? Of course you do, clever readers. Because while some of you impugned my decision to post about P. Selvakumar’s wedding to Selvi the canine as an “about-as-veiled-as-that-one-belly-dancer-at-Prince-Cafe” dig at Hinduism, most of you realized that what haunted me was how the whole thing occurred because two dogs had been stoned and then strung from a tree. I love dogs. I’ve had three, all of whom sadly are gone. Out of an overwhelming sense of loss, I now stop and pet every pup who will have me; that is how much I love dogs. They are fiercely loving, ever adoring, loyal, fuzzy angels with paws.

Once, when I was a senior in college and considerably angst-ridden (for very good reason), I put “Strangeways Here We Come” on my turntable, dropped the needle and then dropped myself down on the lush, odd red carpet we were infamous for having installed in our ENTIRE Home. It was time for some emotional bloodletting, though I didn’t have any Johnette nearby.

When Morrissey started keening, I went still, except for the unceasing crying, of course. A few songs in to the album, I was vaguely aware of a strange noise but I was too morose to move. My eyes were closed. I was despondent. I really didn’t care.

But my wolf-German shepherd hybrid did. He had broke through the once-sturdy patio screen door in his haste and worry to get to me. I opened my eyes because of the oddest sensation–a very concerned puppy was licking all the NaCl off my face. Torn between being utterly grossed out (it was my first pet!) and utterly in love with such love (it was my first pet!), I chose the latter and sat up, as my dog visibly relaxed at my not-being-dead.

That’s what kind of sweetness dogs contain.

And maybe, just perhaps, the dog that David Huckabee executed had licked away some other kid’s tears. Even if it hadn’t, I’m sure it would have been inclined to, if it hadn’t been hung from a tree and left to choke to death by the son of a Preacher man. Continue reading →

Documentary: “I For India”

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I recently got a chance to see an excellent documentary called I For India (thanks, Kate!). It’s a kind of family documentary that spans nearly forty years. When Yash Suri moved to England, in 1965, he decided to buy two Super 8 film cameras, two tape recorders, and two projectors. One set he kept, the other he sent to his family in Meerut. He filmed and recorded his family’s life and growth through the 1970s and 80s, his family in India did the same — and they sent each other the tapes, as a way of staying in touch. The result is an amazing archive of what happens to a family when one part of it goes abroad. Yash’s daughter Sandhya Suri assembled and edited the material into a unique 70 minute statement. Here is a brief clip:

(You can also supposedly see a clip from the film at the BBC, though when I tried it I couldn’t get the video to play.) Continue reading →

With Mango Juuuuuuice! With Shampooooo!

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I guess MC Vikram and Ludakrishna aren’t the only dynamic desi duo doing creative reinterpretations of hip-hop:

I can’t get over their names, Pari and Harvin…sorry, allow me to be accurate—I can’t get over ONE of their names, because I always thought it was a very bad word in Malayalam.

Random Uncle: Molay, what did you get for Christmas?
Three-year old me: Pari!
Random Uncle: *thud* (falls over in horror)
My dad: She’s so funny!

Beyond that, I must say that I was somewhat impressed with the quality of the video (though I’m rarely on YouTube, so I’m sure all the youths of today have ridonkulous video editing skillz of which I am unaware).

Once the backup dancers started..um…cranking…or light bulb-changing specifically, I was surprised at the level of thought put in to this lunacy. Backup dancers! It must have been fun to walk by all THAT. Where’s the “Making the Video” for this, complete with confused non-desis watching on the street corner?

Anyway, it’s Friday and we’re (read: I’m) stressed, so a bit of light-hearted spoofery seems apposite. It was cute enough that I’m willing to forgive Harvin (whom I assume put it on the News tab) for bringing this wee bit of awareness of Soulja Boy in to my world; I was proud of the fact that I had never heard “Crank Dat”, but for you excessively mustachioed kids, I’ll make this very good exception. Oh, who am I kidding. My motive for posting this was zimble—after you watch, I will not be the only one who has the words I used for my title STUCK IN THEIR HEAD all day.

With Mango Jooooooooose,

a Continue reading →

For the Ladies: “Tell Me What,” A DBD/ABD Hip Hop Video

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Check out the following video, which is currently in rotation on MTV India:

Who are all these people? I hadn’t heard of any of them: the producer and male rapper calls himself Deep (he seems to be an ABD rapper). The woman singing in Hindi (with the short hair) is Pratichee (she is definitely a DBD). The woman singing R&B style, in English, is Janina Gavankar (who has had a role on “The L Word”; she was also featured in an earlier Sepia Mutiny post by Abhi). And the woman rapping — ferociously! — in Punjabi is Navraaz (could not find any links; I have no idea who she is).

I won’t try and translate the Punjabi rap (any takers?), except to say that the English chorus (Back the **** off me) makes a good summary. (I might also add that the lyrics might make even Ms. Hard Kaur blush…)

Incidentally, the label responsible for this track, IndiAudio, has made an MP3 available for downloading here.

What say you? Continue reading →

An Afro-Pakistani Poet

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Via 3 Quarks Daily, I read a profile of Noon Meem Danish, an Urdu-speaking poet from Karachi who is of African descent. The author of the piece, Asif Farrukhi, makes reference initially to some places I hadn’t heard of:

Whether you think of Lyari as Karachi’s Harlem or Harlem as a Lyari in New York, for Noon Meem Danish places provide a context but not a definition. ‘I am what I am’; he explains his signature with a characteristic mixture of pride and humility. Off-beat and defiant, he was a familiar figure in the literary landscape of the ’70s and ’80s. His poems expressing solidarity with the Negritude and the plight of blacks all over the world were referred to in Dr Firoze Ahmed’s social topography of the African-descent inhabitants of Pakistan. Karachi’s poet Noon Meem Danish now makes his home in the New York state of mind, and feels that he is very much in his element there. (link)

Lyari, one learns, is a town in/near Karachi where many of Karachi’s Africans (an estimated 500,000 of them) live. Their ancestors came to Balochistan as slaves via Arab traders (Noon Meem Danish defines himself ethnically as “Baloch,” which was confusing to me until I made the connection).

The Afro-Pakistani community, perhaps not surprisingly, hasn’t been treated particularly well, according to this essay in SAMAR magazine (skip down towards the end for some disturbing references to the extra-judicial killing of African youths). It’s not surprising that Noon Meem Danish, given his penchant for poetry, would consider leaving.

Danish is pretty forthright about the difference in how he is perceived in Karachi vs. New York:

More than home, Karachi was for him the city of the torment of recognition. ‘I was black and in Karachi it was always a shocking experience when people would ask me where I came from. They would ask how come you are speaking saaf Urdu. I had to explain myself each time.’

Karachi University wouldn’t hire him, but NYU did, and now he teaches at the University of Maryland (in the foreign language department — teaching Urdu, I presume). It’s interesting to think of someone of African descent emigrating to the U.S. because it’s less racist than the place where he grew up, but there you have it.

You can see Noon Meem Danish reciting at a Mushaira on YouTube (he’s at about 2:30 2:10). Continue reading →

Rest in peace, young Desi, there’s a heaven for a G…

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If the pop culture ref I used for my title didn’t float your yacht, try this one from tipster Raj, who single-handedly ruined my afternoon by sending us the bad news:

“Oh my God !! They killed Asok, you Bastards!!”

A moment of silence, please, for the adorable, paavam*, wide-eyed IIT alum who will no longer be available for scapegoating and abuse. Wait a second…maybe he’s better off away from Wally, the Pointy-haired Boss and everyone else he (got) worked (over) by.

Asok (pronounced “a-shook”) is an intern in the Dilbert comic strip. He is a brilliant graduate from the Indian Institute of Technology…Asok often solves difficult problems in a few keystrokes, but he is still naïve to the cruelties and politics of the business world. As a result, he often ends up being the scapegoat for his coworkers’ antics. Despite many years as an intern, and performing the functions of a senior engineer, Asok has been denied permission to be a regular employee and the usage of company resources for his work.
It has been mentioned that Asok once lived in the handicapped stall of the bathroom; he later moved to a storage facility (but was only allowed an hour leave for moving by the Pointy-Haired Boss). Asok is also trained to sleep only on national holidays, a trait that he allegedly carried over from his alma mater. In addition, he was trained during his time at the Indian Institute of Technology in telekinesis, using it once to vaporize an obnoxious Texan and more recently to stealthily steal donuts in a meeting, and remove asbestos from the office. As well, he has mentioned that he has the ability to reheat his tea by holding a cup to his forehead and think about fire. Asok appears to be a fan of Indian music: in the animated episode “Art” he is shown listening enthusiastically to a female vocalist singing in Hindi. Recently, the Pointy-Haired Boss announced that Asok died while on a test of a moon shuttle prototype. Asok had planned to reincarnate into his clone, unfortunately Carol had used the jar containing his DNA as a candy jar. It is not known how Asok will return. [viki]

If you are one of the three people reading this post who has not been exposed to the charm of Asok, read on:

Asok: You can use my key to open the box with its teeth.

Dilbert: To open this box I’ll need something stronger than a key.

Continue reading →

Further Proof That Bharath Obama is so Desi.

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Between the snow, the looming holidays, sundry drama and Keeping up with the Kardashians marathons, it’s gettin’, it’s gettin’, it’s gettin kinda hectic these days. It’s been heavy in addition to hectic, depending on which thread you’ve been marinating in (despite Abhi’s heroically adorable post about every college male’s dream sitch). Time for some high jinks and hilarity, I say.

The link to this wideo has been sent to me so many times, all that copying, pasting and emailing should be put to good use, right? Who cares. You’re gettin’ some Bharath und Bollywood, whether you want some or not. Don’t blame me, blame SAFO; this concoction has the manicured fingerprints of those over-educated hipster doofuses all over it.

If this mesmerizing mash up doesn’t inspire you to…um…do…something, then perhaps the crushing pressure of high expectations will– soon after Denton-offspring Wonkette posted this vid, a commenter thither wondered what we were thinking, here at Sepia Mutiny. Don’t disappoint everyone now– it’s bad enough that you didn’t go to med school, you sepia slacker. What’s that? Oh. Well if you did go to med school, it’s bad enough that it was overseas. And if you…ad absurdum. Continue reading →

Brown Bikers’ Big Beatz

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Nobody would ever accuse desis of being quiet folk. You get a few desis together and pretty soon the volume of the chit chat rises; you get them excited and all the white people in the room start giving them dirty looks. We are voluble people.

So it’s not surprising that young desi bikers in Queens are making their presence known. Out where I live, white men on motocycles remove their mufflers and rev their engines, the aural equivalent of pissing on a tree. In Richmond Hill, young Indo-Carribeans mark their territory more euphoniously using huge speakers … on their bicycles, a tradition brought over from Guyana and Trinidad.

That’s right, this desi biker “gang” is real old school, eschewing newfangled innovations like the internal combustion engine for the purity of gears and sweat.

A new biker gang is roaming the streets of Richmond Hill, Queens. This crew of mostly teenagers can be seen riding along 103rd Avenue just west of the Van Wyck Expressway. The bikes roar… these contraptions look and sound more like rolling D.J. booths.

“This one puts out 5,000 watts and cost about $4,000,” said Nick Ragbir, 18, tinkering with his two-wheeled sound system, with its powerful amplifier, two 15-inch bass woofers and four midrange speakers. It plays music from his iPod and is powered by car batteries mounted on a sturdy motocross bike. [Link]

When I started reading the article and noticed all the names were desi, I was hoping for families of four on scooters or mopeds, women riding side saddle, but bicycles are almost as good.

Let other teenagers cruise around in low riding automobiles with the trunk and backseat full of woofers, burning dinosaur juice, bringing us Indian summer year ’round. We’re rolling rickshaw style, moving our bodies to propel the music up and down the streets, dancing in the saddle as we pedal and peddle.

Who needs an iPod when you live in a desi neighborhood?

Slideshow with pictures here. The other photos are even better.

Continue reading →

ABC’s “Notes From the Underbelly” (and kannu candy)

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he even makes facial fur look good.jpg Last year, a wee little show called “Notes From the Underbelly” debuted on ABC and we ignored it, despite tenacious reminders of its existence on our news tab. Our bad.

No, seriously.

The brown angle to that repeatedly neglected news story turned out to be the HOT angle; NftU stars one Sunkrish Bala, i.e. the gorgeousness gazing at you over on the right. Bala plays the part of “Eric” and one of the most interesting things about this program is how there is no mention of his ethnicity; for once someone brown gets to play someone “normal” (for lack of a better word), who isn’t a terrorist or other H-town stereotype.

Eric may not be the manliest of men, but he’s the perfect man for Julie. Even though he almost missed the birth of his son, Eric is an utterly devoted husband and father. He has an incredibly lucrative career, though no one knows exactly what he does. Always cheerful, Eric deftly balances a demanding job with an even more demanding wife. [ABC]

I know what you’re thinking– now there are two FOUR beeyootiful desi guys on network television? YES. It’s not a cruel joke. There is even more male to objectify, my sisters and brothers-who-swing-that-way! I’m making my preference known now; start printing Team Sunkrish tee-shirts because I’m not only the client, I’m about to be the fangirl-president.

What am I trash-talking about? Well, while many of you ruined Victoria’s Secrets over that Sendhil guy on Heroes whom I have no use for, I caught the last few episodes of this cute, quirky show which features the hottest South Indian male I have ever salivated over. Mmmm, Sunkrish. If this book’s cover doesn’t do enough for you, his inner sweetness should; Sunkrish was part of the Help Vinay effort, which is how I was able to speak to him and delightfully discover that he’s down to earth, kind and really funny. For the 2,359 of you from Northern California who will recognize it, he’s an alum of Bellarmine College Prep. 🙂

Though I rep Kerala shamelessly (and probably inaccurately), I’m totally willing to sell out my coconut-eating counterparts and say that Tamizhhrrrzzl men are teh hawt. Now if only Sunkrish weren’t 16, I could feel less like a filthy pervert and actually daydream of a future where I am Mrs. Bala, not that I’m doodling that on my notebook in meetings these days or anything. 😉

The season premiere of Notes From the Underbelly is TONIGHT at 9:30 on your local ABC affiliate. Tune in and drool for yourself. 🙂

p.s. I’m not the only one who digs “Notes”. Salon’s TV belle Heather Havrilesky had this to say, yesterday: Continue reading →

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Review: “Queens Boulevard — the Musical”

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queens-boulevard-paan-o-ram.jpg
(Debargo Sanyal and Amir Arison)

Over the weekend we caught a matinee of Queens Boulevard (the musical) at a small, off-broadway theater in New York. The play has already been covered at both SAJAForum and Ultrabrown; this is my version.

The cast of Queens Boulevard has three people of South Asian descent in it, and Charles Mee, the playwright, mentions in the script that “Queens Boulevard (the musical) was inspired by the Katha-Kali play The Flower of Good Fortune by Kottayan Tampuran.” The central plot of the story is partly a reworking of the Shakuntala myth, and partly a version of Homer’s The Odyssey — and sometimes both at once.

I had a number of problems with the play, but I want to start with the positives.

Continue reading →