Ok Arun, I’ll marry you, but only if I can ride an elephant to the wedding!

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Liz Hurley and Arun Nayer are finally getting hitched. The wedding is planned for February of next year, and will be held in Rajasthan. This will be a “spectacular affair with no expense spared to show the world how much she loves Arun,” and she has warned guests that they should keep the entire month free.

Liz, who turned 40 this weekend, is whole heartedly embracing the whole mirch-masala desi spirit of her wedding even though

… she gets horrifically ill whenever she sets foot in her lover’s country. Liz said she was sometimes left so weak doctors put her on a drip for days and has to take special care when eating, drinking – and even showering. She said: “I have a dry flannel right across my mouth like a gag when I take a shower. When I take my make-up off at night I don’t let water touch my lips. ” [cite]

Despite her Howard Hughes like ordeal in India’s five star establishments, she is very enthusiastic about the ceremony. She’s ready to trade in safety-pinned dresses for red wedding saris and to show up at her wedding riding an elephant. An elephant?

Liz has made up her mind that she wants an Indian princess-style wedding. She loves the colourful traditions of the country and wants to embrace them…. [and] is very keen to involve elephants in some way and hopes to arrive on one … It wouldn’t be the first time Liz and Arun have used an elephant as part of a celebration. The couple arrived side by side on one at his 40th birthday party last year. [cite]

While this same source also claimed that the use of elephants “depends on logistics and whether it actually fits in with the ceremony,” I’ll bet this is actually the first line of the pre-nup. You want me to get married in your germ-ridden country? I’m riding an elephant or we can call the whole thing off! Oh, she’s a real Indian princess already …

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Dilli the Haat

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Ahh, the famous Dilli Haat. Everyone who has either lived in or visited India’s capital knows it well. The shopkeepers and artisans that inhabit the Haat are rotated out every few weeks to make room for new talent. It’s basically an outdoor mall that you have to pay a fee just to enter. This keeps the wealthy Delhi-ites and NRIs in, and the “riff-raff” out. I know I’m a hypocrite for sounding scornful since I too shopped there, but the whole paying for admission thing never sat well with me. Sitting inside with my shopping bag containing the goods I just purchased I felt dirty looking out the metal gate at the people outside. Now it seems the Haat is taking its show on the road: to London’s Trafalgar square. The Hindustan Times reports:

London’s Trafalgar Square will wear an Indian look over the weekend with the arrival of Delhi’s famous Dilli Haat, the only difference being Lord Nelson will watch over the celebrations.

Marking its arrival London Mayor Ken Livingstone said at a press conference today: “London is home to the largest Indian community in Europe. We have established a warm relationship with Delhi symbolising the importance of the economic, cultural and social ties, which link our two great cities and our countries.

“We buy each other’s goods and services and invest in each other’s businesses and markets. There is a thriving exchange of tourists between our countries. Dilli Haat will offer Londoners a wonderful display of the vibrancy and diversity of India’s arts and crafts.”

Somehow I just don’t believe that the artisans that make it to London will be very authentic. Then again I’m not sure what “authentic” is anymore. No word yet on how many rupees the pigeons will be charged to enter.

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Spinning towards the truth

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One of the best-selling books at your local store right now is the philosophical essay titled, On Bullshit. Philosophy is HOT right now, as are the philosophers who are philosophizing. That leads me to five year old Shruti Indiresan from the Bay Area. The SJ Mercury reports (thanks for the tip Runnerwallah):

Shruti Indiresan has been surprising people all of her life.

As a toddler she buzzed through books and slapped together puzzles developed for much older children. Today, at 5, the kindergartner at Faria Elementary School in Cupertino reads and writes at a fourth-grade level.

Shruti’s latest stunner: winning the Most Philosophical Kindergartner in America title with the essay she composed for the third Kids Philosophy Slam. Several thousand students across the country in kindergarten through 12th grade submitted essays on which is more important in their lives: truth or beauty.

“I feel happy when I am telling the truth,” Shruti wrote in her essay. “I become beautiful when I am truthful.”

Her mother was a bit baffled.

“She’s very fond of princesses,” Rohini Indiresan said. “So I figured she would choose beauty.”

So what was Shruti’s winning essay? Behold:

Truth means not telling a lie. It is good to tell the truth. You are telling the egzact thing that you did. I feel happy when I am telling the truth. I become beautiful when I am truthful. Beauty comes from your good behavior. You can find out you are telling the truth by the size of your nose. Truth means to me good behavior. Because truth is the only way adults will be proud of you. Everyone will like me.

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Punishing the Victim – Rape Victim Must Marry Rapist

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Between Mukhtar Mai and now this gal, it’s been a bad week for South Asian women –

An Indian rape victim is being forced by village elders to “marry” her rapist – her father-in-law, a newspaper reported on Wednesday. …Holding a special council on Sunday, village leaders ordered the mother of five to leave her husband, Noor Mohammed, and live with her parental family for seven months and 10 days and make herself “pure” again, reports said. It did not say how she becomes pure. After that, she must “marry” her father-in-law and live with him, along with his legal wife.

Freud would also have a field day with the Oedipal Complex this sick, twisted verdict sets up for her former husband, Noor –

“She… will then be like a mother to Noor Mohammed,” the local cleric Shamim Ahmad was quoted as saying.

The cops plan on intervening & arresting the father-in-law while somehow respecting the sensitivity of this religious situation. We’ll see. Continue reading →

It depends on what the meaning of the word ‘vegetarian’ is

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An interesting little surprise comes to light after an Indophile President has a meal at the magnificent Bukhara, Maurya Sheraton’s much-lauded restaurant in Delhi:

“Clinton was very careful while ordering from the menu. Post-surgery, he has become very conscious of what he eats and is trying to become vegetarian. However, he still prefers chicken,” says US-based hotelier Sant Chatwal, who hosted dinner for Clinton. Clinton’s signing-off line to the chef: “It was a great meal. I simply love Indian food. It’s the best thing about coming back to India.”

I know Bengalis who insist that they’re good wegetarians despite their fetish for fish. 😉 If they get special dispensation, perhaps we can let ol’ Bill have his chicken? While y’all think on that, I’ll tell you that erstwhile-“First Daughter” Chelsea Clinton is already an herbivore; I’m almost sure that she had a birthday party or two at D.C.’s exclusive, mirch-free, pretty-but-not-pleasing Bombay Club, which is conveniently located near a certain large white edifice.

Salon’s War Room take on Bubba’s new diet choices made me snort with glee:

Oh my God. What?
Bill Clinton not eating meat? A man whose very name brings to mind the word “pork”? Who has never met a nitrate he didn’t like? Whose all-night bull-and-barbeque sessions were sent up hilariously in “Primary Colors”? The man who once, after having consumed a 3,300-calorie lunch with German Chancellor Helmut Kohl in 1994 that included meats, cheeses, seafood and veal-stuffed ravioli, ordered a piece of chocolate cake to go?
…The thought of Bill Clinton spurning meat is like the thought of him spurning blow jobs. Simply not possible.

I mean, doesn’t that just make you GUFFAW? He orders the chocolate cake…to go! That Bill. 😀

I think I can also speak for mutineer Manish when I say that we gladly welcome the big dog/Slick Willy* to our exclusive club of people who smell better and otherwise rule the world. 😉

:+:

*I use nicknames that are pro- AND anti- the Bill because we at SM are TOTALLY non-partisan when it comes to snarfing down the world’s best Dal Makhani. Mmm, daaaaal. Continue reading →

Fauja Singh finishes another marathon!

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Fauja Singh is a stud. The man is 94 and he just finished yet another marathon, this time in Edinburgh. There he led a team (named “Sikhs in the City”) of five Sikh runners with a combined age of 397 years between them. Said Fauja Singh:

I hope we will inspire young people to keep going and older people never to give up [cite]

If this is the first time you’re hearing about Fauja Singh, here’s the (very) skinny:

  • He rediscovered running at age 81 (because he was bored sitting around his son’s house) and ran his first marathon at 89.
  • The next year he set a world record for 90 year-olds
  • He has been getting faster as he has gotten older!
  • He’s a poster boy for Adidas (like David Beckham) and he gave a large chunk of the money to charity
  • He’s a vegetarian, and has been in a PETA ad

Honestly, I’m amazed that he ran even one more race. My father met him recently, and from their conversation I had gotten the impression that Fauja Singh was considering hanging up his sneakers and calling it a day. If he had been thinking about retirement, it looks like the idea suited him around as well as it did Michael Jordan. I’m pretty selfish about this – I hope he stays healthy and competes for years to come. I need all the inspiration I can get.

Story via DNSI. Thanks to SM reader dot for the tip!

 

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Devika Mathur- one Righteous sister

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devika.jpgWho cares about “tall” desi guys on Amreekan Idol who go on to make us cringe (“Eye of the Tiger“? while pretending to run?)– Canadian Idol shall redeem us!

On June 8, on the third episode of Canadian Idol — the, well, Canadian version of Indian Idol — 2005, Devika was one among 32 contestants given a ticket to the next round to be held in Toronto.

I tripped over that last sentence…I always thought Canadian Idol and its North American cousin were inspired by Britain’s “Pop Idol”. I guess I’m mistaken. Apparently, so is wonderful Wiki:

Canadian Idol is a reality television show on the Canadian television network CTV, based on the popular British show Pop Idol and its US offshoot American Idol.

Hmmm. Well, whatever. The point is, a soulful version of The Righteous Brothers'”Unchained Melody” rocketed Devika Mathur (a.k.a “Rinku”) to the top 32. By the way, the judges love her. Check out this fawning action:

After comments like, ‘Your sense of pitch is fantastic and your sense of artistry is really lovely,’ ‘Your a-capella is unbelievable’ and ‘I don’t think you could be more beautiful if you tried,’ Devika was seen running with delight towards the judges who handed her the ticket.

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Extreme humor

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Some time ago, a group of Net trolls by the kitschy but startlingly offensive name of Gay N* Association of America put together a remix called ‘Punjabi Extreme.’ It’s a set of crank calls to an AOL call center in India, set to a funk beat. Listen to a clip here (warning: NSFW + sound).

The humor is in hearing the group’s name repeated by an unsuspecting customer service rep with a desi accent. It’s the inverse of the My Big Fat Greek Wedding joke, teaching your mark a Greek phrase which actually means, ‘I have three testicles.’

The group takes its name from a low-budget Danish porn parody called Gayn* from Outer Space. I can’t decide if the group’s name is purposely over the top, like the pointlessly graphic ‘Aristocrats’ joke, or if it’s just autistic racism — whether it achieves the requisite level of wink.

There’s a similar urban legend about a credit card scammer who issued fraudulent charges using an unmentionable, NAMBLA-like business name. The theory was that victims would be too embarrassed by the name to dispute the charges with their banks.

Previous posts: 1, 2, 3

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I yelled “Blog-life” as I emptied the clip

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I am not a happy blogger. Every day on Sepia Mutiny I give some of my suga’ away for free. Don’t get me wrong. Blogging is a lifestyle. Wannabe bloggers sell out to the man and go all corporate. I believe in the small but dedicated following, playing the backroom internet cafes around the world where people log on even in the dead of night. Still, it would be nice to see some perks once in a while. A bigger dressing room and some bubbly every now and again wouldn’t be insulting to my sensibilities. Last week I mentioned that this guy got a $100,000 salary for staying at home all day and watching Dukes of Hazards re-runs and blogging about it. Where is my 100K for blogging about meaningful things? Also, last week I read that the Pennsylvania State Tourism Office hired several bloggers to road-trip around the state, have as much fun as possible, and blog about it to attract tourists. What the f*ck! What is this? Where is the beautiful struggle? Where is the sweat, blood, and tears? Blogging shouldn’t be about getting paid to roadtrip. I had just begun to calm down when Patrix sent us a tip. Two of the Pennsylvanian bloggers were desi girls. Meet Manisha and Preethi:

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Spittin’ image

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Vikrum Sequeira, a desi American who’s spending some time teaching kids from Bombay slums, unpacks the desi head wiggle:

Affirming your Indian identity: … Since I was wearing sunglasses and talking to foreigners, many of the Indians wondered about my identity: was I a foreigner, an NRI, or an Indian? To answer their question, I made eye contact and waggled at them. No further explanation was necessary…

Making friends: … When I finally bought a phone card from him (after weeks of reciprocal wiggling), I realized that the weeks of waggling had paid off. Sagar, the phone-wallah, gave me a giant smile and treated me like an old friend…

Disarming people: … Once I was walking in a slum near Colaba and a few men gave me a look signifying, “What are you doing here?” I gave them the wiggle and they smiled and let me pass without a problem.

Here’s another gem: a commenter explains why religious tiles festoon Indian stairwells.

You will find these kind of tiles [stuck] to stairwalls [throughout] the country [in] almost 60-70% of govt. offices, apts, commercial complexes… [Paan] eaters used to spit on the walls instead of dustbins… so you may find red colors on the stairwalls where there are no tiles.

On a more serious note, Sequeira contrasts street crime with riots in Bombay:

In August 2003 in San José, Costa Rica, a seventeen year old was stabbed to death near my apartment because he refused to give his cell phone to the assailants who mugged him… Bombay is not like that… I have seen women casually walking through poor areas adorned with thousands of dollars of jewelry. A woman can walk through Bombay wearing gold earrings and a diamond ring and not be in any danger…

… While the Bombay volcano does not spew lava on a regular basis, it is an enormous volcano… What is scary is that many people believe that an eruption is imminent.

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