Bring Me the Head of Nina the Infidel!

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So, towards the end of my essay on acceptance, a commenter thoughtfully asked me to clarify what I meant by mentioning the fact that Nina Paley had lived in Kerala more recently than I had even visited it. Here’s what I said, which prompted her inquiry:

Nina has been to Kerala far more recently than I have; my last visit was back in the dark ages of 1989. In fact, she lived there, which is something I’ll probably never be able to claim. Who the hell am I or anyone else for that matter, to pull rank over that?

Did Nina’s stay in my parents’ home state give her carte blanche? No, of course it doesn’t. When I said that I wasn’t going to “pull rank”, I meant that I was going to acknowledge that others, even white others, might be more familiar with what everyone expects me to be an expert on, and because of that, I especially loathe the idea of playing the race card, i.e. I am desi, therefore I know more about (and/or get to restrict the unbrown from) my culture. If you read my post, you’ll know that I have a very intimate and poignant reason for why the part I italicized resonates with me.

I appreciate that Nagasai and Amitabh both opened a respectful dialogue about how they feel about Nina’s art but I also am known to be a fan of keeping threads on-topic, so I thought I’d spin this discussion off in to its own separate post, because the issues at play here are fascinating and significant.

What does Nina’s artwork mean to you?

What role does race play in all of this– how many of us would have the same issues we do if her name were Nina Patel vs. Nina Paley?

And how far do these “rules” go? Do some of you have a problem with the fact that I’m writing this post (i.e. that I’m a Christian, commenting on the appropriateness of Hindu imagery in art)? Inquiring and potentially bored mutineers want to know! Continue reading →

A young life scarred by the love of cricket

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Cricket mania in India has produced a new Indian superhero, ‘Sachin Tendulkar – the Master Blaster’:

India’s Sachin Tendulkar is set to appear as a superhero in a new range of comic books, animation and games. The cricketing legend has linked up with Virgin Comics and his character will wear body armour and wield a flaming cricket bat. [Link]

Ummmm …. guys? You’re not helping the rep of desi men any. He’s short, has a stiff bat on fire, and is associated with Virgin? Great … But wait, it gets even better:

… two years ago had a stage musical about him called Main Sachin Tendulkar [Link]

Just imagine little Rajiv, playing in an American sandbox with his Sachin Tendulkar action figure.

Joe: I’ve got a GI Joe! What’s that short geeky looking thing?
Rajiv: I’ve got a Sachin Tendulkar! He plays cricket!
Joe: GI Joe has a gun. See, he can shoot bad guys with it.
Rajiv: Sachin has a flaming cricket bat! And when I play, I sing songs from his musical. Isn’t he awesome?

Doesn’t Gotham Chopra know how many years of therapy poor Rajiv is going to have to pay for? Continue reading →

On Hybrid Vigor, Acceptance and Grace

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A banned commenter left the following pain on a thread yesterday:

I cannot stand it when black or hispanic women try to get into the “bollywood” trend. They are so superficially involved with indian culture and dont know shit about the true meaning/history behind why things are done. I doubt they have any respect for the indian culture; they just like the trendy-cool look of things.

I didn’t delete it, nor did I summon the intern to stop fanning me as I lounged on my throne, to do so at my behest. I was too overwhelmed, at how in much the same way a smell can invoke a memory consummately and instantly, bigotry could, too.

ANNA and the Cathedral.jpg

Reading the bitter words in that comment sliced my age in half with the precision of my Mother’s Wusthof carving knife; once my eyes left my laptop screen, I was sixteen again and utterly miserable. It was a Sunday morning, just after church, during the coffee hour, and I was waiting for my Father to finish chatting with one of his acquaintances, a local professor named Dr. Pappas whom he didn’t get to see regularly.

I never felt entirely at home at church, because I was Indian and it was Greek. Though my parents both come from indefatigable Malankara Syriac Orthodox bloodlines, my sister and I were not baptized in the church of our ancestors. The reason for this sounds droll when I narrate it, after I am inevitably asked why I’m Greek Orthodox; personally, however, it is borderline painful, as it created a chasm between me and other Malayalees which can never be closed. I find it bitterly amusing that the only time I was ever “confused” as an American-born desi was when I was trying to reconcile who I was as an Orthodox Christian. Continue reading →

Research NOT to conduct with daddy

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For those of you who missed it, there was a groundbreaking study out of Texas last week:

The traditional theory of beauty says that for every man who chases the voluptuous type, such as Jordan or Marilyn Monroe, there is another who prefers to woo a waif such as Twiggy or Kate Moss.

But this and the idea that beauty is subjective and ever-changing has been overturned by Prof Devendra Singh and his daughter Adrian Singh…

The psychologists from the University of Texas today publish research showing that lovestruck men have only one thing on their minds: a woman’s WHR – waist-hip ratio, calculated by dividing waist circumference by that of the hips.

Jordan and Twiggy have something in common: both have waists that are noticeably narrower than their hips and Prof Singh has found evidence this “belle curve” is ingrained in the male brain in his studies of Playboy centrefolds, the ancient Egyptians and tests on men from Africa to the Azores. [Link]

Ok, I know this is science but…eeeww. If I had a daughter I wouldn’t want to be looking through stacks of Playboy magazines with her, even if it was for the good of science (which I normally support). Anecdotally, I know these two have hit upon the correct theory. Just this past weekend I leaned over to a friend and mentioned that I was totally “crushing on that girl’s WHR.”

The team also found the hourglass in ancient literature. Two ancient Indian epics, Mahabharata and Ramayana (first to third century), and Chinese sixth dynastic Palace poetry also link attractiveness with a wasp waist.

Consider, for instance, the description by Chinese writer Xu Ling (507-583): “Beautiful women in the palace of Chu, there were none who did not admire their slender waist; the fair woman of Wei.” Similarly, the Mahabharata contains the description: “accept this slender-waisted damsel for thy spouse…” [Link]
Continue reading →

A place at the table

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Hot-off-the-press (so hot that it won’t even be available until July) is a book whose subject matter seems to tackle some of the same topics we often post on this site, as well as might contain some good explanations as to why our website sometimes attracts bigotry/ignorance of a certain persuasion. The book is titled, A Place at the Multicultural Table: The Development of an American Hinduism. The book is by author Prema A. Kurien (who I see has been denounced in some way or another on a smattering of websites). Indolink reports:

According to its publisher Rutgers University Press, the book offers an in-depth look at Hinduism in the United States and the Hindu Indian American community.

The book focuses on understanding the private devotions, practices, and beliefs of Hindu Americans as well as their political mobilization and activism. And it probes the differences between immigrant and American-born Hindu Americans, how both understand their religion and their identity, while it emphasizes the importance of the social and cultural context of the United States in influencing the development of an American Hinduism…

Drawing on the experiences of both immigrant and American-born Hindus, Kurien demonstrates how religious ideas and practices are being imported, exported, and reshaped in the process. The result of this transnational movement, according to Kurien, is an American Hinduism- an organized, politicized, and standardized version of that which is found in India.

The book explains that Hinduism has undergone several modifications in interpretation, practice, and organization in the United States in the process of being institutionalized as an American religion. Kurien argues that while Hindu American spokespersons espouse a genteel pluralism and attempt to use Hinduism to secure a place at the American multicultural table, they also use the ideology of multiculturalism to justify and legitimize a militant Hindu nationalism. Drawing on this contradiction, she develops a theoretical model to explain 1) why multiculturalism often seems to exacerbate émigré nationalism, and 2) why religion is often involved directly or indirectly in this process. [Link]

Continue reading →

Boriqua in the Ghar

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175452__deevani_l.jpg

Last week, the Daily News (thanks Dave) had a fascinating article about Deevani, the Hindi singer on the Daddy Yankee hit “Mirame”. Details about this singer were always shrouded in mystery, at least until she granted her first interview and cleared up the fact that Deevani (née Adalgisa Inés Rooney) was actually not Indian or even South Asian at all, but a Puerto Rico raised Dominican who fell in love with her first husband’s Bengali language and culture.

Normally I’d want to snark all over something like this. But I can’t. The woman is just too impressive. I think she’s single now, so let me pass on her biodata:

  • She is a 31-year-old mother of 3 kids
  • She has an MBA in finance
  • She is the CEO of her brother’s (Luny, of superproducing duo Luny Tunes) company Mas Flow
  • She taught herself eight languages – Chinese, Japanese, Bengali, Hindi, Urdu, Gujarati, Punjabi and Arabic. So with her native Spanish, and English, that makes ten.
  • In an industry crammed with female “divas” and all the cliches that the term engenders, she is refreshingly comfortable presenting a low-key, domestic image:
    “I’ve just written this song for [new artist] Nicolle,” she says, passing her iPod across the table. “The melody came to me when I was dusting my house.”

Ughhhrrr…on most mornings, I’m lucky if I can find a pair of black tights without holes, and leave the house with my glasses still on my face. And she records hit songs while she’s dusting. F*ck! Maybe I need to step it up a little…

Rooney also appears to be a driving force behind the electrifying (should be if “Mirame” was just a teaser) Bhangra-Reggaeton fusion known as Bhangraton: Continue reading →

The Tabu of the Namesake

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It is a picture that I imagine many who read this blog have a variation of in one form or another. You know, that image of the the nuclear desi-American family– returned to the sub-Continent for a long (summer) vacation– of mom, dad, brother, sister posing in front of the Taj Mahal. The group is huddled close on that bench hoping for the perfect portrait. And really, how can the picture be bad? That grand marble monument towering in the background, its skewed reflection glimmering in the rectangular pond. Observing that familiar image reflected on the movie screen and understanding that feeling of closeness and comfort of being together in a foreign place, put a big smile on my face, as did most of Mira Nair’s latest film The Namesake.

I know we’ve previously blogged a review of the film, but this was a very personal book for me, I think for most of us. I even made my mom, who doesn’t usually read “English novels” read the book, and she loved it. So I think the movie merits more than just one review. In any case, I’ll do my best not to repeat too many of the things cicatrix mentioned earlier, and promise to stay away from the word timepass. The film was “just too good yar,” to merit the use of the word to describe it.

I find it hard to have high expectations for movies based on books. I have been burned too many times. With that in mind, my expectations for the movie were upward leaning, but not over reaching. I didn’t know how Nair could add visuals to a novel that was for me already so vivid. As the stunning opening credits blurred between Bengali and English, I immediately knew Lahiri’s story was in good hands. Nair and her longtime collaborator Sooni Taraporevala’s treatment stayed true to the novel while also providing an original point of view. Their take does a fine job of including the highlights of the book, but in their attempt to hit all the major points, the movie misses some of the extras that made the story so poignant. (Warning: Spoiler Alert, especially if you haven’t read the book)

The inclusion of the Ashima and Ashoke’s early years was good, but I wanted to see more of their early married life, more of Ashima’s struggle adjusting to life in America. To life without her family. To life without the familiar. I wanted to see her overcome that struggle, and grow into her life in America, as we saw in the novel. I think that is an important part of the story, and not spending enough time on some of these nuances took away from the story’s gravitas. The significance of the late night/early morning phone call for example, how was the audience supposed to know that odd-timed phone calls only meant significant news from India, usually bad?

Continue reading →

“Herewith, Some Names To Learn”

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I don’t need to tell y’all that brown people are taking over the world. Hell, desis been taking over for a minute now. One place where you would have thought this would be apparent is here in New York City, where our people are running things across the board, from academia to media to cinema to art to finance to medicine to law to activism to philanthropy to — oh, yeah, fruit vendors and taxi cab drivers (but we do not speak of these). And yet, there remains a class of benighted New Yorkers who have yet to recognize the ever-browning brownitude in which they bathe.

Who are these poor souls? Why, they’re the readers of the New York Observer: the pink-papered weekly with the highbrow preoccupations and the arch headlines and the Upper West Side noblesse oblige; the original fount of the Candace Bushnell column that begat Sex and the City; the paper that crows to advertisers that it “delivers the top of the market: a well-educated, affluent audience of highly influential consumers.” Indeed, according to the sales kit, median household income among Observer subscribers is $162,500; median net worth is $1,546,200; the average numbers are much higher.

Well, in what must be confirmation that we have finally arrived, this lofty set has been officially advised of our existence as of the current issue of the Observer, which features a series of short profiles penned by Nicholas Boston, under the (highly original!) title “India, Inc.” The reduction to India of a group that actually mixes FOBs (or whatever we’re calling them now), ABDs, 1.5s, and people of Indian, Sri Lankan, Pakistani and even half-Dutch origin is but one of the various conflations that y’all sensitive types might bridle at but that, let’s face it, shouldn’t really matter all that much given that we all look the same.

Anyway, now that we exist, at least as some kind of highly literate brown blob, we also need a name. What would it be? Desicrats? Macacarati? No! We are… the Bollypolitans! “A Bollypolitan elite is the newest creative class to kick into New York with art, fashion, literature,” the subtitle announces. And in the first sentence we meet our leader:

In 2000, the Indian-American Jhumpa Lahiri won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction with The Interpreter of Maladies, making her the first South Asian—and, at 33, among the youngest of any ethnicity—to be named in that category. She appeared on The Charlie Rose Show, wearing crimson, her hair gelled back into a chignon.

Charlie Rose! Crimson! Chignons! Shit, this desi thing must be for real. Indeed:

Ever since then, twenty- and thirtysomethings of South Asian descent—that would be Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Sri Lankan—have emerged in a very public way on New York’s cultural stage, and we’re not talkin’ Kaavya Viswanathan. Art centers have been chartered, dance ensembles formed, fashion companies founded—and many more books, both fiction and nonfiction, written and published. Herewith, some names to learn.

So, quick: If you had to pick 12 desis-you-need-to-know in the New York “creative class” (and don’t pick Cicatrix or myself, that would be too easy :P), who would you choose? You can compare your results with Mr. Boston’s incredible advanced sociological sampling analysis here. Discuss! Continue reading →

Gandhi and the Jews

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Former Senator, occasional actor, and potential GOP presidential contender Fred D. Thompson recently delivered a radio address titled “Gandhi’s Way isn’t the American Way” (mp3 here; transcript here).

To Be or Not To Be, That Is the Question

Thompson’s address responds to peace protestors carrying signs asking “what would Gandhi do?” & he cames out swinging against the question –

..At what point is it okay to fight dictators like Saddam or the al Qaeda terrorists who want to take his place?

It turns out that the answer, according to Gandhi, is NEVER. During World War II, Gandhi penned an open letter to the British people, urging them to surrender to the Nazis. Later, when the extent of the holocaust was known, he criticized Jews who had tried to escape or fight for their lives as they did in Warsaw and Treblinka. “The Jews should have offered themselves to the butcher’s knife,” he said. “They should have thrown themselves into the sea from cliffs.”

There’s an old saying that had the Brits been Nazi’s, Gandhi would’ve been a lampshade. Macabre as the humor might be, it underscores a key reason for Gandhi’s success with passive, non-violent resistance – it depends on your opponent’s moral code as much as your own. The problem here however, paraphrasing Thompson, is that Gandhi’s enemies aren’t America’s enemies.

Still, Gandhi’s direct statements about the Jews was a bit startling to me and worth some googling around…

Another They’d be dead but at least they’d have the moral high ground…guy who was also likely surprised by Gandhi’s determination to prescribe his strategy to the bitter end (well, for the Jews at least) was one Louis Fisher. He asked Gandhi to clarify his position which he did rather unequivocally –

Louis Fisher, Gandhi’s biographer asked him: “You mean that the Jews should have committed collective suicide?”

Gandhi responded, “Yes, that would have been heroism.”

If Nature made it, it’s gotta be Good, right? “Charles Darwin found the grisly life histories of Ichneumons incompatible with the central notion of natural theology…“

They’d be dead but at least they’d have the moral high ground? That’s comforting. Clearly we’re speaking of a rather different brand of “heroism” than the 300 Spartans – it’s not death that separates the two but rather, the preceding act of physical surrender.

It’s clear that when considering the age old problem of mind-body duality, Gandhi entirely favors the mind at the expense of recklessly discarding the body. Sticks and stones may break his bones but homey’s still not gonna give you the time of day and that’ll make you, his enemy, sad. Eventually. But perhaps only after 6 millionth casualty. Or if you run out of sticks & stones.

“Evil” in his sense thus comes from too much application of volition via the body and not enough going with the flow of nature. And in this orgy of nihilism, Gandhi found nobility and a “joyful sleep” which he implored the Jews to partake in –

…suffering voluntarily undergone will bring [Jews] an inner strength and joy….if the Jewish mind could be prepared for voluntary suffering, even the massacre I have imagined could be turned into a day of thanksgiving..to the godfearing death has no terror. It is a joyful sleep to be followed by a waking that would be all the more refreshing for the long sleep.

Lest we accuse Gandhi of anti-semitism we must first note that, in a manner echoed by our modern day Mel Gibson’s and Michael Richards‘, Gandhi assures us that not only does he sympathize with the Jews, but that some of his best friends are Jewish –

My sympathies are all with the Jews. I have known them intimately in South Africa. Some of them became life-long companions. Through these friends I came to learn much of their age-long persecution.

…didn’t believe Ichnuemons existed in Human Nature too…

Further, his commitment to lying prone at the wolf’s maw wasn’t unique to the Jews — he had a similar prescription for the whole of continental Europe engulfed in WWII –
“I would like you to lay down the arms you have as being useless for saving you or humanity. You will invite Herr Hitler and Signor Mussolini to take what they want of the countries you call your possessions…

“If these gentlemen choose to occupy your homes you will vacate them. If they do not give you free passage out, you will allow yourselves, man, woman and child to be slaughtered, but you will refuse to owe allegiance to them.”

Oh yeah. Let the Gestapo torture & kill you but refuse to owe them allegiance. That’ll show ’em. Needless to say, you can put me on Fred Thompson’s side on this particular debate.

Still, the world does occasionally need Gandhi and his modern-day sign-toting adherents…. Putting aside their well-intentioned blinders towards human nature, I agree that peace more than has its place as does a firm aversion to the carnage of war. I just wish they’d put more energy into getting their message in front of these guys first.

Continue reading →

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