May I vent? On Sunday I went to the India Day celebration in New York. It was my first one since moving here, after years in a smaller city where there wasn’t much commemoration. Riding the subway downtown I was quite excited. I was also upset that I didn’t have a camera. I wanted to document the event for the mutineers to share in the party. I was annoyed that I’d have to find someone else’s blog or Flickr page to show you images of the day.
So I get down to 28th Street and start walking south on Madison Avenue. The street is empty. That’s OK, I can see the party a couple of blocks ahead. It looks small… but compact, right? Besides, it must spill out onto the side streets that I can’t see from here.
Aha! Here we go. Booths, stands, displays. I’m ready to get my culture on. I’m hoping for musicians, arts organizations, political groups of all stripes, regional and ethnic groups, maybe some cool vendors…
And what do I get?
Shaadi.com
BharatMatrimony
State Bank of India
Direct TV
Satellite TV channel #1
Satellite TV channel #2
Insurance agency
Another bank
… and that’s about it.
I mean, this was pathetic. Pathetic! India Day, commemoration of 59 years of Independence and all that, aunties walking around in tricolor saris, kids with face paint, and almost every single organized presence is hawking middle-class consumer services.
The exception was a bone marrow drive, but even that was being promoted by brothers from a desi fraternity. I’m not hating, especially not on bone marrow drives, but the frat-boy flavor certainly didn’t bring any cultural diversity to the event.
Yeah, there was a stage with performances. Just one stage, and the little I saw was, eh… just OK.
And yeah, I missed the parade. I’d been told to watch for the floats. Well, here’s a brother who took pictures: Corporate flatbeds rolling by empty sidewalks. A few Republican politicians.
The most flavor at the entire event was the Hare Krishnas.
Is it always this way? Continue reading




Ustad Bismillah Khan, who played the shehnai at the Red Fort on the eve of India’s independence and brought the instrument to prominence in Hindustani classical music, passed away today. He was 90 or 91 (reports vary). Born in Bihar, he came to Varanasi as a child and remained there the rest of his days, living a simple, impecunious life when others of his musical generation achieved fortune in India and overseas. He was a devout Shia Muslim who also took part in Hindu worship, believing in the unity of pathways to God and in the spiritual role of music. Although he had disciples and his sons all became musicians, he leaves — as far as I know — no single obvious musical successor.


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