Is there anything schlockier than this fiber optic, snow-flocked Om tree? For just 50 quid, you get the same emotional, uh, ‘appeal’ of an interreligious wedding where not only are both religious ceremonies conducted simultaneously, they’re physically merged. I’m thinking a pandit with a yarmulke. Syncretic-alicious!
(via the Calcutta Telegraph)
16-year-old Kiran Matharu, a third-gen Brit Asian, is a budding golf star from Leeds whom some call the best female amateur golfer in the UK (thanks, midnight toker):
[Amarjit Matharu’s] daughter, Kiran, is the best female amateur golfer in the country. She plays off plus 3.4 – compared to Michelle Wie’s plus 4.2 – and she is only 16. Kiran is off to Texas this week, having been invited to a training camp by Butch Harmon, Tiger Woods’ former swing guru. Nike, Ping and Red Bull are all keeping a close watch. Serious money is just around the corner…Continue reading[Her father] was a keen sportsman, playing golf off four before switching his attention to cricket, but he never quite made the big time. He runs a bar in central Leeds and follows sport as a fan. He feels hard done by that Kiran is not given more attention. ‘Everyone raves about Michelle Wie,’ he says. ‘I know that if Kiran was American, she’d be red-hot news…’
Her practice swing is a thing of artistic beauty. So smooth, so relaxed, so natural. She bangs the ball 260 yards down the middle of the fairway without appearing to make any effort…
Kiran Matharu could be the most exciting female golfer to emerge in this country since Laura Davies started scorching the hide off the ball. Let’s hope she makes it, not just to repay the £50,000 her family has already invested in her career, but for her sake. [Link]
She will play in the Curtis Cup next year — the youngest member of the squad — and then turn pro. [Link]
Today is the 536th birthday of Guru Nanak Dev ji, the founder of the Sikh religion.
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Sikh pilgrims celebrate the anniversary of the birth of Guru Nanak, the founder of Sikhism, in Nankana Sahib, Pakistan. |
Here is an article about the life and contributions of Guru Nanak.
Here is a description of how the event is usually celebrated.
Here is a very nice slideshow of images from the celebrations in India.
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
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I have been pretty bummed about football this season. My Michigan Wolverines are not going to be national champions (not even close), my 49ers are hapless, and even my fantasy football team has seen a sudden downturn. I had just about lost all hope in the sport until SM tipster Aliya sent us a heads up about a football game being played on Thanksgiving Day. Screw the Cowboys and the Lions. I had to look no further to remember my love for the game than the city of my birth: Skokie, Illinois. The 6th Annual Indo-Jew Bowl is on, and if you don’t know, now you know:
Five years ago, in the bitter chill November air, best of buddies, yet bitter rivals, made a pact. They agreed to a competition of courage, endurance, strength and will that would soon prove to be the pinnacle of events in the Greatest Village in the World that is Skokie. The two most dominating Super-Powers met to determine the true leaders of the community the only way they knew how: in a field of play. The Indians fought the Jews, both honorary and true, with all of their heart and gave the fine Village of Skokie some newfound pride. Sadly only one group of men were victorious that day. The Indos left as champions, but the real story was this was just the beginning of something special.
Something special has now it has turned into the annual zenith in all that is Indian and Jewish Life. That first afternoon also displayed a gust of diversity that can never be matched, and is always attempted to be replicated each and every Thanksgiving from here on out. Pride is at stake and another year of bragging rights are in order. Only at Indo Jew Bowl can you say hello to an old buddy, friend, or pal in the most serene of settings. Attend a perhaps run into a “Local Celebrity,” but attend and expect to garner a slice of history that will go unmatched. Suffice it to say this is one chapter of a classic novel that has to be read.
Can we get a satellite feed please! After winning the first Indo-Jew Bowl, the Indians have been dominated. They are down 4 games to 1. This year is about salvaging some pride. Here are the rosters:
Indos – Keyur Vora, Pranil Vitha, Sonesh Shah, Trushar Naik, Nirav Dedhia, Ajay Mehta, Nilay Vora, Bub Vitha, Ash Soni, and a mystery player!
Jews – Amit Klass, Michael Wenger, Steve Feder, Christopher Shermach, Danny Spitz, Adam Federman, Bobby Wenger, Yochai Eisenberg, Daniel Engelman, Matthew Robins
Aliya, informs us that the word on the street is that the Indo’s mystery player may in fact be one Penny Hardaway of the New York Knicks. Ringer. (update: there is no confirmation of this rumor. See comment #1) Continue reading
A ToI reporter showed up to a small Delhi blogger meetup several days ago under an assumed name and did a Page Six/Page 3-style takedown of our very own TTG:
Most mainstream Indian papers are glorified scandal rags.. the active blogging community in India is a shockingly tiny group… Their preoccupation nevertheless continues to be slamming and analysing a very wide variety of things in an attempt to display their intellectual might… Their favourite pastime remains MSM (blog speak for mainstream media) bashing, often without caring to provide substantiations and taking cover behind free speech platitude…… the 3rd annual Delhi bloggers meet just proved how big (or small) is the Indian blogosphere. Just four bloggers attended it, counting the host… ”I have booked the entire section of the restaurant,” he added, pointing at the empty sofas reserved for an army of bloggers that he had expected…
The Indian blogosphere has a long way to go before it even comes near to achieving the influence of the American bloggers… We are yet to see the Instapundit of India or an Andrew Sullivan. And this is not lost on them. ”We are the elite bloggers of India,” announced Tarun… [Link]
There’s no law against snark, but the aggrieved organizer says the story is full of inaccuracies:
Barista is not a restaurant. I hadn’t booked the “entire section” of it. And there was ONE sofa, which could hold 2 people, and ONE chair that was empty…Continue readingI SAID I WASN’T one of the ELITE bloggers of India, and went on to roll off a list of all the A-list dudes…
Now I know how celebrities must feel when they see their quotes in print. Is anything in the paper the truth? [Link]
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
Amitav Ghosh penned a harrowing essay on the organized anti-Sikh riots of ’84 (via DesiLit Daily):
The first reliable report of Mrs. Gandhi’s death was broadcast from Karachi, by Pakistan, at around 1:30 PM. On All India Radio regular broadcast had been replaced by music… The motorcade of Giani Zail Singh, the President of the Republic, a Sikh, had already been attacked by a mob…A stout woman in sari sitting across aisle from me was the first to understand what was going on. Rising to her feet, she gestured urgently at the Sikh, who was sitting hunched in his seat. She hissed at him in Hindi, telling him to get down and keep out of sight. The man started in surprise and squeezed himself into the narrow footspace between the seats.
Minutes later, our bus was intercepted by a group of young men dressed in bright, sharp synthetics. Several had bicycle chains wrapped around their wrists. They ran along beside the bus as it slowed to a halt. We heard them call out to the driver through the open door, asking if there were any Sikhs in the bus. The driver shook his head. No, he said, there were no Sikhs in the bus. A few rows ahead of me, the crouching turbaned figure had gone completely still…
I have watched phil-ums that made me want to gouge out my eyes with hot forks of displeasure, but I’ve never felt homicidal because of celluloid. According to my beloved Beeb, I OBVIOUSLY have nothing in common with Somali militia men:
Calm has returned to the Somali capital Mogadishu after 11 people were killed and 20 wounded in weekend fighting.
The clashes pitted militia belonging to the Islamic courts against owners of cinemas showing dubbed Bollywood films.
Obviously this horrible violence has nothing to do with the quality of a flick, but an extreme culture war over the qualities of the films and the activities related to them:
The Islamic courts have been attempting to control the activities of the cinemas – accusing them of fuelling crime, drug abuse and immorality.
Somalia has essentially been lawless for 14 years. What’s a little more immorality on top of THAT?
Last month, the court’s militia stormed a studio where Bollywood films were being translated and destroyed equipment.
I’m not quite sure what the honorable chairman from the state of fundamentalism means by the following quote:
Sheikh Sharif Ahmed, the chairman of the Islamic courts, says they open from early in the morning showing “scandalous movies to children even not allowed by producers in their home country”.
First and last of all, what scandal? The flouncing around gardens, peeking out from trees, getting close enough to sniff your dance partner but not kissing them even though the cut to a flower blooming might suggest exactly such fornication? Sheikh, please. Continue reading
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This next post is going to be difficult for people to believe. It was difficult for me. The very fact that I am writing this post may put my life in danger. Many things that I do for our readers puts me in danger though, so that is okay. Somewhere in the heart of Oregon lies a secret society restaurant. Witness:
Anyone who is familiar with secret societies such as the Freemasons, Priory of Scion, Knights Templar or has read Dan Brown’s book The DaVinci Code will be familiar with the concept of sub rosa. What goes on here, stays here.The Sub Rosa restaurant began in a cottage on our property that was once the caretakers quarters for a 90 acre orchard here in Dundee. It remains primarily a workshop for Talisman Stoneworks, a stone carving studio though we do whip up some tasty meals from time to time.
During the day when the workshop is humming, you can drop in from noon on for a bowl of spicy soup; an onion tart; some tasty dessert; a beer or a stiff shot of grappa. Dust flies. Music pulses. Food smells waft into the air creating a exotic blend of workshop meets hole-in-the wall cafe meets underground radio station and WiFi hotspot.
At night – well, the ‘restaurant’ is rarely open. This is an invitation only gig. If you know us or know someone who knows us – you’re in. Otherwise you just get to read about us on this web site.
I just got the shivers. It is actually kind of sadistic what these people do. They prepare virtual menus that will bring tears to your eyes, and perhaps affect your nether regions with the skills of the Merovingian. Your tongue is not allowed to taste however:
You can download recipes and music and order a t-shirt but that’s about it. We’re more a state-of-mind than an actual place to eat.
Then why, dear God why, did they send the following menu/recipes into my inbox? This is beyond even my considerable culinary skills.
Thanksgiving Dinner:
Appetizer: Curried Nuts
Greens: Gujarat Green Beans
Starch: Horseradish Mashed Potatoes
Curried Yams with coconut milk
Turkey: Cumin and Coriander spice rub
Condiments: Cranberry Chutney
Cucumber Raita
Stuffing: With raisins, cinnamon, almonds, celery and of course, bread
Dessert: Chiffon Pumpkin Pie with crystallized ginger galore
Garam Masala – Classic Indian spice mixture
