Category Archives: Humor

How to choose a college

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This is so true. Just so damn true that I had to bring it to the attention of SM readers. Just read what Jason Neffler has to say about a topic that doesn’t get nearly enough attention:

I’m really glad I decided to go to my current school. I can’t think of an American college with such balanced and complementary diversity. While any old school can boast of their Indian dance groups, few can say they have the perfect number of them. Well, this one can. Yeah, you could say I have it good when it comes to Indian dance groups. Or, more accurately, I have exactly the right amount when it comes to Indian dance groups.

Three.

I checked out a few other schools before coming here, and the choice wasn’t too difficult. Some of these schools have upwards of seven Indian dance groups. That undercuts the cultural importance of the dancing with petty competitiveness, and dilutes the experience with oversaturation. Meanwhile, a bunch of the other schools have only one or two, which is equally unacceptable. Try coming away with any informed appreciation of Indian dancing with only two Indian dance groups on campus. It’s completely ridiculous–insulting, even.

No, three is dead-on… [Link]

By the time most of the people who read this website have kids, I think that this elusive balance of three Indian dance groups per campus will be a thing of the past. I forsee a day when somewhere between 7-10 troupes have established themselves at every college (except maybe community college). This development, combined with the ever-quickening pace of global warming, has got me thinking as to whether children are even a good idea. Is this the world we want to bring them into? One where Bollywood-style dancing is done by everyone?

Like a proper Bharatnatyam, Neffler’s wisdom kept flowing:

… if I’m looking to take a break from my economics studies with a little Bharatanatyam or Odissi, I can always check out Eternal Bhakti when they perform at the commons. When it comes to bringing to life the ancient theories put forward in the Natya Shastra Of Bharata, I believe I speak for the entire student body when I say that there’s no room for improvement in that department.

Of course Eternal Bhatki’s not for everyone. But at this school, it doesn’t need to be. We also have Saraswati, for those who like their Manipuri slow and relaxing. No pressure here. Just Indian dancing with no frills. [Link]

Just share this with someone. The Onion continues to be America’s finest news source.

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The neurosurgeon more powerful than Cheney

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Yesterday Siddhartha informed us all of the first Indian American governor to ever hold office in the U.S. (even if it will only be for a few days). It is a proud step forward. I mean, the only powerful desi politician right now is Bobby Jindal, and we all know there are mixed emotions regarding him. The situation in New Jersey got me thinking as to whether or not there is any other back door action to be taken advantage of out there. Can us desis (who often face an electability hurdle because of the pronunciation of our names and our brown faces) get our hands on the levers of power by “non-traditional” means instead?

As most of you are aware, South Dakota’s senior senator, Tim Johnson, fell ill a couple of weeks ago:

In Washington, D.C., on December 13, 2006, during the broadcast of a live radio interview with WNAX radio in Yankton, South Dakota, Johnson suffered bleeding in the brain caused by cerebral arteriovenous malformation, a congenital problem that causes enlarged and tangled blood vessels. He underwent surgery at George Washington University Hospital to drain the blood and stop further bleeding. Johnson’s condition was critical after the surgery. Johnson’s physician, Admiral John Eisold, said that day that “[i]t is premature to determine whether further surgery will be required or to assess any long-term prognosis.”

As of December 28, 2006, Johnson remained hospitalized in George Washington University Hospital. According to a neurosurgeon on the hospital’s staff, Johnson was being weaned from the medication used to keep him sedated, and he was opening his eyes and responding to his wife. [Link]

Johnson’s health is critical to the balance of power in our country. The Senate has 49 Republicans, 49 Democrats, and two Independents that caucus with the Democrats. This equates to a 51-49 majority for the Dems. If Johnson is permanently incapacitated then the Republican governor of South Dakota can appoint someone to fill the vacancy. He will most definitely appoint a Republican. Thus, we will be at 50-50 again and Vice President Cheney (a.k.a. Lord of the Sith) would become the tie-breaking vote. The Republicans would then control the Senate as before the recent election. Enter Dr. Vivek Deshmukh:

The surgery on Johnson was performed by Dr. Vivek Deshmukh, a neurosurgeon with special expertise and subspecialty training in cerebrovascular and endovascular neurosurgery, the statement said. The surgical team included Caputy and Dr. Anthony Venbrux, director of cardiovascular and interventional radiology. The surgery was a success, the statement said. [Link]

“Senator Johnson is sedated to allow his systems to rest and recover from the hemorrhage, and we anticipate no further tests or procedures in the near future,” neurosurgeon Vivek Deshmukh said in a statement issued by Johnson’s office.

“This is expected to continue through the holidays,” Vivek added. [Link]

Here is what I am slowly leading to. Rather than trying in futility to get desis to win political office, maybe we should try a more circuitous approach to the problem. Can anyone contest that Dr. Deshmukh is currently the most powerful man in America? What I am advocating is that we encourage young desis to perhaps go into non-traditional fields like medicine. We might be able to make more of a political impact that way.

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The "Buddha Boy" returns

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A few months ago our News Tab was blowing up with people pointing us to the story of Ram Bahaudr Bomjon (a.k.a. the Buddha Boy) of Nepal:

Ram Bahadur Bomjon (born May 9, 1989, sometimes Bomjan or Banjan), also known as Palden Dorje (his official Buddhist name), is a young Buddhist monk from Ratanapuri village, Bara district, Nepal who drew thousands of visitors and media attention for spending months in meditation, allegedly without food or water, although this claim is widely contested. Nicknamed the Buddha Boy, he began his meditation on May 16, 2005. He went missing on March 11, 2006 and reappeared on December 25, 2006. [Link]

Just this past week the famed “Buddha Boy” re-emerged from the woods so dark into which he had disappeared for the last 10 months. Come on, was he really living in the woods for 10 whole months? Pictures never lie folks. If David Blaine can live inside an ice cube than surely this boy can live in the woods doing nothing but meditating:

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SM Memo: Nars “Hindu” is Very Brown

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The mission came my way via Abhi over a month ago, a reader had contacted our comment line with the following:

The high-end cosmetics company NARS has a new lipstick shade called Hindu…I wonder how a shade called Jew or Protestant would fare in the public eye? Is the idea that all Hindus have temptingly red lips? To be fair, there are also shades called Afghan Red and Gipsy. What do you think?

Said Abhi, “This one is ALL you.” Said me, “HELL YES!” I love Nars. If I’m not wearing Chanel makeup, I’m glowing because of the most notoriously named blush of all time. One problem– “Hindu” proved more elusive than I imagined. It was sold-out all over town. The intrigue grew; if it was so desired, I had to keep it under surveillance for the sake of the Mutiny. I finally located a tester of it at Blue Mercury Apothecary (apothecary!) and made my way to my prey.

Part of Nars’ Holiday ’06 collection, “Hindu” had sold so well, it would take a month for me to procure one for the Mutiny. “Nars just didn’t make enough,” my source said, as they prepared the tester for germ-phobic me. I loathe such situations, because I prefer to examine communal cosmetics on the back of my hand. The allegedly-disinfected lipstick was headed right for me. I started to panic, but then I remembered that every Mutiny requires pain and sacrifice.

When she was done with me, I was wearing a very brown lipstick with excellent texture, which reminded of a sheer version of Chanel’s “Very Vamp”. I expected redder tones, not the muted brown which I was studying. I also thought there would be more glitter, since it’s very visible in the tube. The staff praised the end result; I was less convinced by the “Hindu” effect. Maybe for the office, but it was too dull for my scenery-chewing tastes. I was thrilled that it looked so good on South Asian skin, though.

“Would you like to be put on the waiting list?”

I hesitated; normally I would have politely declined, but Abhi had tasked me with more than just scouting “Hindu” out:

My biggest question is can a nice Christian girl such as yourself be labeled a “heathen” if they apply this? If you kiss a nice Mallu boy with “Hindu” lipstick on, what would happen!

In the name of the Mutiny, I gladly put myself on the line to complete this mission; alas, I did not find a suitable partner for such a life-or-death covert operation. Abhi, forgive me. Continue reading →

55Friday: The “Cherub Rock” Edition

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I believe in Sliding Doors.

I believe in Serendipity (though I never ventured there myself).

And yes, I believe that at least one angel watches over me. There’s no other explanation for my stupidly good luck or the consistent little miracles which always make my heart lift a little bit in my chest as my hands fly to cover my face from either shock, delight or both. I’m a girly-girl and a Christian one at that, so for me, this is a season for miracles. True to my Orthodox roots (and like a certain Uncle and Auntie in Florida who used to wear buttons pointedly declaring this fact), I believe that Jesus is the reason for the season. If I do THAT, then I have to suspend cynicism, don’t I?

:+:

7:15. Metro. Red line to Glenmont. I hear the infamous, “Doors closing!” as I’m rushing down the escalator at Tenleytown, just as fast as my Connolly-colored mukluks could take me.

I skip the last three steps but it’s too late. Six minutes to the next train. That’s not so bad– it seems better than the Orange line, anyway. Six minutes pass, I board and after Cleveland Park, we pause for no apparent reason as the operator announces “Stand by.” I roll my eyes. I just want to get home. Continue reading →

Who’s your daddy? Say it! (corrected)

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The son also rises

Desi families like to provide well for their children. Parents give their kids money, cars, businesses … and now it seems that some even help procure girls for their darling little boys. That’s right – having Salman Rushdie as your father helps you score chicks. While this isn’t a huge surprise (Duh!), I was made a bit queasy by the way the famous family discussed the matter.

First there is Rushdie, fils, talking about his dad:

Zafar Rushdie, 27, often accompanies his father on nights out because the pair are usually swamped by attractive girls keen to impress the literary genius. He says, “Most people who go to a party with their parents try to run away from them. Not me. If I want to meet girls, I just stand near him. “All the beautiful women want to talk to Dad, so I stand close and bask in the sunlight. Beauty loves brains…” [Link]

Then there is Rushdie, pere, engaging in mutual admiration:

“Every time I see a picture of him in the paper, he has four girls around him, so I think he’s not doing badly,” the author tells the paper. “He’s absurdly charming – lethally, disgustingly charming. He has it like a weapon…” [Link]

A weapon, huh? Really, we don’t need to hear about your son’s Louisville Slugger. Just tell the researchers and leave us out of it.

Lastly, step-mom and fourth wife Padma also agrees that Zafar, a mere 9 years younger, is a stud:

… actress Padma Lakshmi, 36, is equally complimentary of Zafar, talking him up as a red-hot ladies man who can’t be resisted. [Link]

In addition, Salman says, his son is a “red-hot ladies man who can’t be resisted.” [Link]

I know the family that pimps together stays together, but can’t the Rushdies save the meddling in their Zafar’s sex life until he’s ready to get married, like decent people? Or is this just a further extension of the same principle – they’ll help puttarRushdie find his wife, his girlfriends, and even his short term flings.

Please understand that my reaction isn’t one of pure prudishness – we are firmly pro-groupie here are Sepia Mutiny. We just believe that groupies should be earned, not inherited. Continue reading →

55Friday: The “I Want Your SEX” Edition

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It is time for further explorations of today’s “You asked for it…” theme, via flash fiction on a Friday: 317440697_ad6e519f2e_m.jpg

Jai: As someone recently mentioned on the News tab, this blog is screaming for a Bad Sex in Fiction-themed 55Friday, like a man and woman simultaneously exploding in a 2000-gigaton thermonuclear detonation of desire and mutually-assured destruction, the mushroom cloud of their passion suffusing the bedroom like acid rain in a post-apocalyptic nuclear winter.
Pooja: A N N A did respond to my suggestion with a “Hell, yes!”
We’re waiting… ;).[linky]

Wait no longer, my pets (though allegedly, if you do it’s that much better)– the porntastic version of 55Friday is here. Jai and Pooja? Membership has its privileges, because this DJ doesn’t always take requests. 😉

For those of you who are utterly confused as to what we three book-lovin’ pervs are going on about, Ennis wrote a post entitled “Good Writers Finish Last” about a dubious competition–the Literary Review’s Bad Sex in Fiction Award— which inspired the comments you see quoted above.

Now in its 14th year, the award is given to the passage considered to be the most redundant in an otherwise excellent novel…
The judges said the award’s mandate is “to draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel, and to discourage it”. [linkypoo]

Hopefully you still have enough stamina to mount an attempt at some 55age, though I know some of you must be exhausted from all of that passion expended over on the “size matters” thread. You may write total fiction, obscure some, ahem, non-fiction or use Mutineers or anyone else you please in your nanofiction. Come now, it can’t take you all that long to recover. 😉 After all a 55-word story is nothing but a quickie. You’ll be done (and so very satisfied) before you know it. Continue reading →

First Miss Great Britain of Indian origin

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We have reached yet another milestone as a community, one that was critical to our development. A desi of Indian origin has seized the coveted Miss Great Britain title!

With so few beauty pageant titles left unclaimed by the rising tide of brown in swimwear and heels, it was very important that we capture each of the remaining tiaras:

British-born Preeti Desai has become the first person of Indian origin to win the Miss Great Britain title replacing original winner Danielle Lloyd after she was stripped off the award for reportedly dating Judge Teddy Sheringham and agreeing to pose for Playboy magazine. [Link]

As with many winners, she has a heart-warming story behind her victory, one of filial piety:

Preeti gave all credit to her mum, who is recovering, from a serious illness. “When she was crowned Miss Great Britain she rang to tell me and said, ‘The crown is for you.’ I burst into tears. I felt as if I won that crown. I felt as if I am Miss Great Britain. She only wants to see me happy – both my girls do. They want to see me smiling thanks to them I was able to overcome that dreadful illness,” Hema said. [Link]

Like all good desi children, Preeti is multi-talented and ambitious. She worked for years in hair and beauty, before making a career switch to the family fireworks business and she may now be trying to get into property investment. In what I think are her own words:

She then started, and is currently working for the family business G2 Fireworks full time and was made Jr partner, which she built up after years of working for G2 Fireworks from being a child… Recently she decided to move to London and work as a model until she raised enough money to eventually get into the property business. [Link]

If you’re a fan, you can read her myspace page and personal website.

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Good writers finish last

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There are times when we on Sepia Mutiny are happy when a desi loses. For example, when a desi author makes the short list for “one of the world’s least-coveted literary prizes – the Bad Sex in Fiction Award” [Link] (thanks Pooja!).

This year, Nirpal Singh Dhaliwal joined luminaries like former Booker Prize nominee David Mitchell and Thomas Pynchon (and five others) for consideration by the London based Literary Review for the 14th annual dishonor. I’m sure they all heaved a sigh of relief when the award went to first time novelist Iain Hollingshead instead. If you’ve never heard of the prize,

… the award’s mandate is “to draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel, and to discourage it”. [Link]

Embarassingly, this is not the first time a desi writer has been nominated. In 2003, Aniruddha Bahal won the award for his novel Bunker 13. The very next year, Siddharth Dhanvant Shangvi was nominated for The Last Song of Dusk, Nadeem Aslam was nominated for Maps for Lost Lovers [thanks Red Snapper], and two non-desi writers were nominated for desi themed stories — Gregory David Roberts nominated for Shantaram and Will Self for Dr. Mukti.

That means that a full 50% of the nominees in 2004 were either desi or writing on desi themes! The Guardian has quotations from all of the 2004 nominees [Not Safe For Work] so you can see exactly how bad the writing was. We’re talking really really bad, people.

I’m a bit perplexed about the connection between South Asia and bad sex. Is it the Kama Sutra thing that attracts preposterous sex writing? Do exotification and bad sex come not so chastely hand in hand? Is it India’s own fascination with purple prose?

That said, I’d rather that desis were associated with writing about bad sex rather than having actual bad sex. Bad sex writing is funnier, and I’m all about the laughs.

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Old folk can still dance

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I was thinking about the fact that, as an over 30, I am now officially old. I mean, James Bond is now a 30-something, which makes this the first time in my life that I have been in the same decade as a Bond actor.

However, between popping arthritis medicine and obsessing about the fact that I have to settle down before it’s too late, I remembered something. Old folk can still dance. I don’t just mean gorgeous professional dancers like DesiDancer, I mean ordinary uncles and aunties. I’m not saying that they can grind, freak or krump (although I’ll bet DD can krump like a clown) I mean that they can dance which is to me a far more beautiful thing.

Herewith, exhibit A [via Vinod], Gurdas Maan’s Babe Bhangra Pounde Ne:

If I can dance like that, when I’m that age, I’ll be a happy man.

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