Spy Princess

A new book to be released on March 1st (in the U.S.) will detail the life of Noor Inayat Khan, a spy of South Asian heritage (her father was Pakistani) that worked for the Allies during WWII:

The life and times of Noor Inayat Khan – a descendant of Tipu Sultan and the only Asian secret agent to work for the Allied forces during World War II – have been captured in a fascinating new book to be launched on March 1.

The book, titled “Spy Princess: The Life of Noor Inayat Khan” (Sutton), is authored by journalist Shrabani Basu, the London-based correspondent for the Ananda Bazar Patrika Group.

Based on extensive research and interviews with Noor’s relatives, descendants and friends, the book presents a graphic account of her life till Sep 13, 1944, when she was shot dead by German forces at Dachau. She was 30.

Born in Moscow, Noor was raised in the Sufi style of Islam and joined Britain’s Special Operations Executive (SOE) during the war. She was one of three women in the SOE to be awarded the George Cross and was also honoured with the Croix de Guerre. [Link]

I had once mentioned Khan in a previous post. Comments following the post seemed to indicate an interest in her story. For those of you that enjoy fiction more than non-fiction, author Shauna Singh Baldwin has previously written a novel inspired by Khan’s life called The Tiger Claw:

From the author of What the Body Remembers, an extraordinary story of love and espionage, cultural tension and displacement, inspired by the life of Noor Inayat Khan (code name “Madeleine”), who worked against the Occupation after the Nazi invasion of France.

When Noor Khan’s father, a teacher of mystical Sufism, dies, Noor is forced to bow, along with her mother, sister and brother, to her uncle’s religious literalism and ideas on feminine propriety. While at the Sorbonne, Noor falls in love with Armand, a Jewish musician. Though her uncle forbids her to see him, they continue meeting in secret.

When the Germans invade in 1940, Armand persuades Noor to leave him for her own safety. She flees with her family to England, but volunteers to serve in a special intelligence agency. She is trained as a radio operator for the group that, in Churchill’s words, will “set Europe ablaze” with acts of sabotage. [Link]

Additionally, a 2001 film titled Charlotte Gray featured a title character who was a composite of women like Khan:

CATE BLANCHETT plays the title role of Charlotte Gray, a young Scottish woman who is unexpectedly drawn into a special operation with the French Resistance when her lover, a British pilot, is shot down over France.

An interesting section of the film’s website has pictures of newspaper clippings about Khan’s exploits.

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Aussie drugrunner gets death in Bali

A 24-year-old Aussie from the Sri Lankan Tamil community was sentenced to death this week for running a ring smuggling heroin from Bali to Australia:

Myuran Sukumaran

Bali Nine “enforcer” Myuran Sukumaran today joined Andrew Chan in being condemned to death by firing squad for attempting to smuggle heroin from Indonesia to Australia. [Link]

I doubt the codename helped their credibility:

The court heard that Sukumaran assisted Chan in strapping bags of heroin to the legs and bodies of Renae Lawrence, Czugaj, Martin Stephens and Scott Rush… On April 5, it is alleged, Sukumaran gave Lawrence $500 and a Nokia mobile phone. He instructed her to call an Australian contact codenamed ‘Pinocchio‘, the court heard. [Link]

I bet they prefer the sound of ‘hakuna matata‘:

Cheers from some Indonesian anti-drug activists echoed in the court as the judges announced the words “hukuman mati“, meaning death sentence. [Link]

Maybe they should’ve read the fine print:

During the trial [a drug mule] said he was so excited at the offer of an overseas holiday in Bali that he was blind to the possible reasons behind the free trip. [Link]

I don’t think this is the judge they had in mind when they made Judge Dredd:

Judge Suryowati said she looked down at the bench in front of her, tears welling in her eyes, as [the chief judge] announced Sukumaran would be executed. [Link]

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Where the mandirs are

Harvard University’s Pluralism Project has many interesting resources concerning minority religions in the USA. Here, for example, is their map of mandirs across America:

To some extent, this map can be read as a proxy for the distribution of Hindus across the country, although only crudely. Because the map indicates the number of temples and not the size of their congregations, a state with a large number of small temples will show up as darker brown (I love their coloring scheme) than one with a smaller number of large temples. That is, there might be more Hindus in Illinois than New York, but they simply worship at a few very large temples.

Despite this limitation, there is still much to be learned from reading these maps. I was surprised to see, for example, that there were more mandirs in Georgia than in the state of Washington, or Michigan. Who knew there were so many mandirs in the south?

The site also includes maps of the 89 Jain temples, 236 Sikh gurdwaras, 2039 Buddhist temples, and the 1855 Islamic mosques that they have catalogued.

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World’s largest turban!

Major Singh, a Nihang Sikh in India, is hoping to qualify for the Guinness Book of World Records with the world’s largest turban (via Mr. Sikhnet):

A Sikh cleric from Amritsar is all set to make it to the record books for wearing what he claims is the largest turban in the world… Major Singh… wears a huge tower-shaped turban using 400 meters of cloth, some 100 hairpins, and embellished with 51 religious symbols made in metal. [Link]

This style of round turban is known as a dumaala and is common to Nihang Sikhs. Most Nihangs wear a smaller turban than this, but there is a tradition of competing to see who can wear the largest. Major Singh’s 400 meter turban weighs around 35 kg, or roughly 77 lbs. Nobody else is in his weight class, the next largest turbans are 10 kg smaller.

If you’ve ever seen or met a Nihang Sikh, all dressed in blue, you’re not likely to forget:

Nihang Singhs belong to a martial tradition … Their way of life, style of dress, and weaponry has remained little changed since … three hundred years ago. Nihangs are a semi-nomadic people. They are organized into “armies” and live in camps known as “cantonments”. Men and women both train in horsemanship, swordsmanship, and in the Punjabi martial art known as gatka. During times of persecution in the past, the Nihangs defended Sikh shrines and the Sikh way of life and become known for their bravery against all odds. In times of peace they travel to festivals and fairs throughout India, staging displays of horsemanship and martial skills. [Link]

For those inquiring minds, my own turban is considerably more modest in size. It’s not the size of the turban on the man, it’s the size of the man in the turban, and that’s all I have to say on this topic . [Major Singh is, I’m sure, a lot of man in a very large turban.]

Related Sepia Mutiny Posts: Crisp or Not, As American as Gatka, Justice Department smacks MTA over turban ban, Da Star in dastar, This turban’s disturbin’

Related Articles: Nihangs, Learn How To Tie Different Sikh Turbans

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End of the line

3-offload.jpg

The current issue of Foreign Policy magazine has a spectacular photo essay by Brendan Corr on shipbreaking in Bangladesh: huge ships driven at full speed onto the beach at high tide, armies of workers trudging out to strip them with bare hands. The physical danger is intense; the health and environmental consequences are potentially dire, as these tankers and container vessels and cruise liners are loaded with asbestos and other contaminants.

In Bangladesh, according to the text, shipbreaking employs 200,000 people. Amazingly, it yields 80 percent of Bangladesh’s steel production. So this massive and hazardous recycling effort generates a vital input into the economy. You can provide your own comment about macroeconomic trade-offs.

Shipbreaking has been a major activity in South Asia for years now; here is a 2000 article by uber-reporter William Langewiesche on the Alang beach in Gujarat, which favorable tidal conditions have turned into a surreal junkyard of corroding behemoths. Now, though, it seems that Chittagong has outflanked Alang with even cheaper labor.

This week, the Clemenceau, once France’s biggest aircraft carrier, was forced to break its journey to Gujarat after legal challenges in both countries. President Chirac has now ordered the Clemenceau back home.

Meanwhile the 315 meter-long cruiseship France, is reported to be on its way to Chittagong though the Bangladesh government has demanded it be decontaminated first. Now called Lady Blue, the ship is registered in the Bahamas by a Norwegian company owned by a Malaysian company owned by a Hong Kong company. This opaqueness, standard in the shipping industry, makes accountability hard to enforce. Continue reading

Waiter, there’s a fly …

Whether sanctimoniously single or smugly encoupled, I find that most people suffer from a post-Valentines hangover. I don’t mean a literal hangover, although copious quantities of champagne are commonly consumed, I mean a reaction to the intensely saccharine and unidimensional portrayal of love. As a homemade remedy, I offer the hair of the dog that bit you – a reminder that love takes many forms.

Saheli tipped us off to this article by an American desi who went back to Karnataka to work as a medical volunteer at the “largest Tibetan refugee colony in the world,” an encampment of over 10,000 Tibetans:

I found out quickly that I had entered a place with entirely different notions about life purpose and productivity. Soon after I arrived I pointed out to a monk that a mosquito was sucking his blood. He nodded in acknowledgement and said something brief about the accumulation of merit and allowing another being to nourish itself off your own. (Luckily, we were in a region where the prevalence of malaria is low).

The second day I was there, a monk took me to the local Indian restaurant. A fly fell into my daal. The monk’s reaction took me by surprise. I wrote this poem about it.

There are those who
When a fly drops Plop! into yellow daal
it is not their bowl of food they worry about.
It is the fly and her wings
The ability of fire and spice
To sear wings
And with so much kindness
They place the fly in their palm
Unfold a white creased napkin
Clean the wings and the space
Between the wings
with water rinse away
Any hot yellowness
Place the fly gentle
On the edge of the table
Until
by the end
Of our meal
The fly has flown
made her way
Back into the world. [Link]

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He loves it when they call him “Big Papa”

Those of my friends that have spent enough time with me know that my life is driven by the pursuit of two passions. One is pretty well known, but the other one, although not spoken of often, is my true white whale. I want to be a Jeopardy contestant! My whole life it seems that my dream has remained just beyond my outstretched hands, a broken buzzer-click away:

As many of you now know I failed in my Jeopardy contestant test today. It’s okay though cause I felt quite good about the number I got right. Failure is good. Throughout your life you may need to fail at something several times before you get that internal push you need to succeed. The enemy (The Jeopardy exam) has now drawn first blood on me and I will thrive with such a debilitating condition. I shall stalk my enemy relentlessly now. I shall read Encyclopedias for fun. I shall go to the library and become intimate with 19th century American Novels. I shall formulate “Before and After” phrases such as Linda Blair Witch and Stevie Wonder Bread. I shall post the “Ten Rules of Taking the Jeopardy Test” that the “Jeopardy Clue Crew” gave to us before the exam. I shall overcome (cue Rocky music). [Link]

I’m still bitter from that defeat nearly three years ago. I turned increasingly to alcohol and blogs after my failure, hoping that they could fill the void within my soul. I probably got like 38 out of 50 questions right on the exam…but I will never know for sure. They don’t tell you how many you got wrong, nor do they tell you how many you needed to answer correctly. That cruelest of cabals, euphemistically known as “The Jeopardy Clue Crew,” holds all the power. The path to Trebek is long and difficult. The jerk next to me who passed the test advised me to read an almanac. I wanted to say, “do I look like a farmer?” I didn’t though because I knew he spoke the truth. Once upon a time I did read an almanac for leisure, but adulthood had falsely convinced me that such a thing was uncool. Tonight a young Jedi will try to accomplish what I never could. Papa Chakravarthy has made the Jeopardy Teen Finals:

A true playa

Paul Laurence Dunbar High School [Kentucky] student Papa Chakravarthy, 14, is one of 15 students competing on the Jeopardy Teen Tournament, which runs tonight through Feb. 17.

Papa’s first appearance on the game show will be Thursday, said Jeopardy spokeswoman Sara Kaplan. If he wins that round, he will continue in the tournament.

Each player is guaranteed winnings of at least $5,000, and the overall winner is guaranteed $75,000. [Link]

In the pre-game interview last night (a semi-finals match that he went on to win) the 14 year old spoke of his neurosurgeon aspirations. Jerk. I squealed like a little girl when he missed a Daily Double, the answer to which was “New Delhi.” Even Trebek chided him for letting down his people for that one. So what if I also guessed “Phnom Phen?” This isn’t about me.

I turn 30 in two weeks. I may already be past my prime. I can no longer remember the finer details of the Spanish Civil War, nor all the works of Tennessee Williams. Still, I plan on giving it one more shot, with almanac in hand. Clue Crew, from hell’s dark heart I shall stab at thee.

To watch an interview with Papa click on the picture at the right and then the link under his profile.

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Posted in TV

Kali’s video game debut

File this under “It’s only offensive if somebody else does it.”

Only desis could get away with making a video game about Emperor Ashoka that uses figures from Hindu mythology and art just to give you something to fight:

Kali is appearing in the forthcoming Emperor Ashoka … which recreates battles from the life of a legendary Indian king who lived in the third century B.C. The game allows players to engage in bloody historic battles based in ancient temples and other antique environments. Some mythical creatures are also thrown in — in addition to Kali, there are gargoyle-like interpretations of the voluptuous female statues that adorn sacred buildings in India, who come alive and fight. “We wanted to have an edge,” says Indiagames CEO Vishal Gondal. “It’s a storyline that hasn’t been seen before” [Link]

If the game makers had been white, the blogosphere would have been up in arms with people yelling “Temple of Doom, never again!” Continue reading

In search of a "mahogany man-killer"

A few weeks back I wrote about the dearth of brown athletes at the Winter Olympics and suggested an alternative competition where our prowess would be unmatched. Today at Slate.com Reihan Salam further breaks it down, tongue firmly in cheek:

Who are we kidding? “Mahogany-man killer” he ain’t.

While watching a bunch of young, white Olympians zipping and flipping around on their newfangled snowboards the other night, I couldn’t help thinking: What if Bangladesh, my parents’ native land, had the geopolitical muscle to turn an extremely Bangladeshi-friendly activity into an Olympic sport?

Bangladeshis are very good at making things from jute, assembling button-down shirts for export, and organizing crippling general strikes. All of these activities involve tremendous mental dexterity and physical prowess. All can be performed in the bitterest cold. And, unlike “snowboarding halfpipe,” not one is compatible with head-bopping to Juelz Santana on your iPod–a surefire indication that your “sport” should not be conducted on the Olympic level…

I still vividly recall the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta, when my middle sister and I cheered on every wiry, diminutive American athlete of a darker hue. When you squint, a fearsome Latino bantamweight looks not unlike one of the burnt ochre Salams…

Deep in my heart, I hungered for a mahogany man-killer who would avenge me on the slopes and forever banish my Winter Olympics-induced shame. This year, I had a strong candidate, Indian luger Shiva Keshavan. But the story of this “great brown hope” is not one of unmitigated joy and triumph. It’s a parable for the tragedy of modern India. More than that, though, Shiva’s struggles teach us that a brown man trying to make it in a white man’s world is like luging uphill. [Link]

Obviously Reihan hasn’t heard of this potential mahogany man-killer (thanks for the tip “epoch”):

[Canadian Emanuel] Sandhu’s impeccable posture and extension on the ice betray his classical dance training. He started ballet and jazz at age 3, and at 11 began studying at the renowned National Ballet School in Toronto. Only 100 dancers every year are accepted into that school, whose graduates usually end up joining a professional dance company. Sandhu, who first took to the ice at age 9 (his mother told him, “all Canadians must learn to skate”) continued to skate while in ballet school. But by 11th grade he was only finding 15 minutes a day to skate, and was forced to make a choice. He chose figure skating, leaving school and eventually moving to Vancouver to train. Sandhu still dances several times a week, and he says that floor work enhances his skating.

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It’s Time for a Chocolate City Meetup- Updated!

Manhattan has held three (including the first and last), San Francisco contained two (the best, Jerry…the BEST!), Brooklyn had quite a sweet one…and now FINALLY, the most powerful city on earth will host a Mutinous Meetup on Saturday, March 25th!

To continue with that nascent alliteration, it’s all going down in the month of MARCH, which comes in like a Singh and goes out like some…ghosht. 93146438_6ce060add3_m.jpg Believe it or not, half-kundi’d me remembered to bring my calendar to my shimmering birthday fete two weeks ago, where our two squeakiest wheels (read: the SM loyalists who wanted a meetup most, who just happened to be my guests that night) provided valuable input with regards to when we should get trashed get together; Kenyandesi and Chai chose the first Saturday in March to mutiny earlier in the month, but at this point, the date you should save is MARCH 25. 🙂

I already know what our precious unbwogable bachi thinks (that’s her, on the right, in the picture to the left), but what say you Zzzzafar, Msichana, Timepass et al? Does March 4th work for you? Will this be a Tryst with Mutiny? Will my record of hosting the BEST meetups ever extend to the right coast? 😉 Will Santino EVER get kicked off Project Runway??? Sorry, I’m watching that show right now. 😀

If March 4th 25th is an awful choice, do speak up, though if we choose something different, a certain Space Cowboy might not be able to attend. Continue reading