What next? No, really. I want to know. What next? First SRK announces he’s releasing a movie called My Name is Khan that has to do with issues of terrorism post-9/11. Then SRK gets detained by guards at Newark airport. Now, days after SRK wraps up a publicity tour in NYC, we hear that our friend is once again in the news? Life imitating art? Stranger things have happened.

Claims on behalf of authorities that naked body scanner images are immediately destroyed after passengers pass through new x-ray backscatter devices have been proven fraudulent after it was revealed that naked images of Indian film star Shahrukh Khan were printed out and circulated by airport staff at Heathrow in London.

This past fall, I moved to Ann Arbor, Michigan, to begin teaching at the University of Michigan. One of the first people I met here was the opera singer Sean Panikkar, a University of Michigan alum who’s singing at the Metropolitan Opera in Ariadne auf Naxos this week.

I’m a bit of an operahead. (For those of you who have never been to the opera, if you want to try it affordably, I recommend my usual method: standing room tickets at the Met, which go on sale at 10 a.m. on the day of the performance. But I’m going to Ariadne courtesy of Sean. Many thanks, Mr. Panikkar!) Sean was the second opera singer I’d heard of who had some Sri Lankan background. And his tenor has gotten great reviews from the likes of The New York Times’ Anthony Tommasini, as well as a host of others. I asked him if he’d be willing to do a bit of Q&A for the Mutiny. Here’s an edited and abridged version of our interview.

Can you share a little bit about your family background?

I was born in Bloomsburg, PA, which is a small town of about 12,000. My parents are from Sri Lanka and came to the United States in 1975. My mother is Tamil and my father is Sinhalese, which is why they left.

When and how did your striking voice first come to attention? What was it about opera specifically that appealed to you? How did your family feel about it?

I had always been involved in music from the time I was little. I played piano, violin, and trombone while also singing in choirs. I never considered myself musical, but it was one of the things my parents wanted us (my brother and I) to do along with sports. My parents often thought I was lip synching during choir concerts. They never knew I could sing.

When I was in middle school a Juilliard-trained soprano named Li Ping Liu moved into our area…. She had nobody to teach because opera isn’t something people in central PA really know much about. I thought it might be interesting to take voice lessons, but I wouldn’t do it unless somebody went with me so for the first few lessons my father and I had lessons back to back. At the time I was into Michael Jackson and Billy Joel so that is what I brought to sing. She made me sing it like an opera singer and I thought it was the worst thing in the world. Just imagine singing high pitched “hee hees” like an opera singer! Needless to say that didn’t last long.

Three weeks ago, 25-year old Philadelphian and lifelong foodie Abdullah Saeed did something thousands of people around the world were doing that very minute - he wrote a blog post. The post, titled “What a strange new feeling” was the first for his blog, ‘Adventures in Pork: A Muslim eats various pork dishes for the first time in his life and divulges his thoughts.’ Over the next four weeks, Saeed, a DJ and freelance writer tried Wendy’s Baconator, Pork Vindaloo and BBQ pork ribs among other pork dishes. The reaction from the blogosphere was immediate. Phoodie, a Philadelphia food and drink blog had this to say about Adventures in Pork, “Saeed’s almost poetic prose and fresh perspective on swine merge like ribs and BBQ sauce that makes for a witty feast for the eyeballs.” Thrillist wrote, “a scrumptious blog from a guy who realized he could have his pig and eat it too.”

I first heard about Saeed a few days ago, when I asked Hassan from Sunny Ali & The Kid who ‘The Kid’ was in the band. He introduced me to Saeed’s blog and suggested I read it. I was immediately hooked. I simply had to interview my bacon-brother-from-another-mother (especially given my own current exploration of pork.) Saeed was kind enough to sit down and share his story with SM.

Bobby Jindal wants you to root for the Saints in the Super Bowl, but here’s a reason to root for the Colts: John Singh Gill, son of Ajit and Ann Gill, is a defensive lineman for the team (via Ultrabrown). He was recently elevated to the active roster, so he may see some playing time. Now I know what my friend meant when he said, “I’m looking for 69 during the big game.”

If the Colts win, Gill won’t be the first desi player with a Super Bowl ring. That distinction belongs to Bobby Singh, who won a ring while on the Rams practice squad in ‘99. The Fiji-born Singh is the only player to win a Super Bowl, XFL Championship and a Grey Cup. Other active desi football players include Obby Khan, a center for the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, and Brandon Chillar, who plays linebacker for the Packers and is perhaps the best desi football player ever (Baichung Bhutia not included).

Gill, a Los Altos, Calif., native, played college ball at Northwestern and answered some questions from NUsports.com:

Q:If you could dine with anyone from any period in history, who would it be?
A: Ghandi (sic)

Q: If you could have a starring role in any film already made, which movie would you pick?
A: The Godfather

Q: What is the greatest lesson in life that you have learned?
A: Always do your best in every aspect of life

Q: Something people would be surprised to know about me is…
A: I am half Indian

Q: My ultimate SportsCenter highlight would be…
A: Returning an interception 100 yards for a touchdown

Q: The person that inspires me the most is…
A: My parents

Q: My favorite food is…
A: Italian food

Q: My favorite pre-game ritual is…
A: Eating

Q: If you were to have your friends attribute one quality to you, what would it be?
A: Loyal

He wants to dine with Gandhi and he likes Italian food? Oh, I get it now: He meant Sonia Gandhi.

When I saw the headline “U.S. Congressman asks Clinton to demote Rajiv Shah,” I thought that the USAID director had done something seriously wrong. Perhaps Shah had bungled the U.S. relief efforts in Haiti, sending too much rice but not enough beans. Or perhaps he had handed a reconstruction job to an Indian-American Contractor who doesn’t do any contracting. But no, nothing of that sort.

U.S. Rep. John Conyers (D-Detroit) is calling on Secretary of State Hillary Clinton to demote the official coordinating relief efforts in Haiti, Dr. Rajiv Shah, for a lack of diversity on his staff. [Link]

In his letter to Clinton, Conyers wrote: “As you know, the 42 member Congressional Black Caucus met with Rajiv Shah, the Administrator of the U.S. AID yesterday to discuss the crisis in Haiti. I was alarmed and chagrined to learn that none of the approximately dozen staff he brought with him were African American. This is so serious an error in judgement that it warrants his immediate demotion to a subordinate position at AID. It is well known  that there has long been an under-representation of minorities in key positions within the State Department. I am confident this Administration will immediately begin addressing this problem.” [Source: The Hill]

Poor Shah. Perhaps someone had told him that he’d be appearing in front of the Congressional White Caucus. Perhaps he was under the mistaken belief that race doesn’t matter much in 2010, that he just has to surround himself with qualified people. Or perhaps he took his resemblance to Obama a little too seriously and forgot to speak with the right dialect.

About a week ago, I noticed that many of my friends on Facebook had changed their profile pictures to images depicting various celebrities. “Maybe they were bored”, I thought. Perhaps there was a current event which was prompting this; when Benazir Bhutto was assassinated, I made an image of her my profile picture. So I barely paid attention and wasn’t super-curious as to what was going on. I prefer Twitter to Facebook, anyway.

I became a little more surprised when I noticed that some of my friends had changed their profiles more than once a day and that each update was accompanied by either accolades or criticism. Despite reading, “that totally looks like you!” a few times, I didn’t immediately figure out that this was a meme or a game, and that people were doing this to participate in some greater movement until one of you spelled it out, in the comments section under your newly-changed picture. Don’t blame me, unlike you MIT-alums or Ivy Leaguers, I went to a state school. Suck it, with your superior deductive skills. At least I figured out the “bra color in FB status” thing without googling it. Go me!

Obviously, I’m not writing this to tell you about a “hot, new trend!”. I’d be more than two weeks late for THAT. I’m writing because I noticed something very interesting occurring in my feed, and many of you are responsible for that. It started simply enough, with this:

“I’d participate, but there are no Hollywood celebrities who look like me. :o(“

And with that, so much was conjured. Memories of being at Disneyland or airport souvenir shops, standing next to my sister as I excitedly snatched a license plate or key chain emblazoned with, “A N N A”…while she glumly turned the display to “V”, where there was nothing which read “Veena”.

“Is someone feeling left out because they are Brown?”, I wondered. “Because THAT’S a post!”. I had no idea how much of a post it could be until my own Facebook profile became a hotbed of discussion about why people were participating, what it meant to participate, as well as questions of representation, inclusion and “passing”. The original point of the game may have been to simply change your profile pic to that of a celebrity whom you allegedly resemble, but I sensed that there was more here than a mere meme.

Dear Mutineers,

There are exciting happenings going on in the bunker nowadays for those interested in all news Bollywood and Hollywood. Taz just came back from Sundance (where she met Aamir Khan and Sendhil Ramamurthy) and today Cicatrix and I will be around in NYC, covering the My Name is Khan press conference featuring Shah Rukh Khan, Kajol and Karan Johar. If you’ll remember, we talked about Khan’s new movie back in August, where we found out he was going to meet President Obama (played by Christopher Duncan). And of course there was that whole Newark airport incident (which some of you suspected was a publicity stunt done to promote the movie, much like his joining Twitter).

For those of you who have been there, you know that the entire portion of Houston outside the 610 loop, and between the 6 and 9 hand of the clock, is Asian. Chinese, Vietnamese, Indian, Pakistani. Asian. Hillcroft street is where all the South Asian businesses are concentrated, much like Chicago has Devon St.

Businessman Aku Patel watched as two workers installed the orange-trimmed Mahatma Gandhi District signs atop a Harwin Drive street sign.

The owner of Karat 22 Jewelers on Hillcroft Avenue and other members of the South Asian community have waited seven years for these temple-shaped signs to go up in southwest Houston.

“It’s a great feeling,” Patel said proudly as he stood in the drizzling rain and watched Zane Frazar and Ron Mitchell install some of the 31 signs that will decorate street signs along Hillcroft Avenue, Harwin Drive, Fondren Road and Westpark Drive.

Leaders of the India Culture Center and Indian merchants have long wanted to rename Hillcroft Avenue Mahatma Gandhi Avenue, but municipal rules require 75 percent of commercial property owners on a street to sign a petition in support of changing the name before the City Council can consider it.

More than 76,000 people of Indian descent live in the Greater Houston area. [Link]

Two weeks ago I was in Mexico City. A waiter realized my companions and I weren’t Mexican and he said, “Indios como Gandhi, no?”

“Si, como Gandhi,” I thought, silently defeated. Don’t get me wrong. I admire Gandhi greatly. He’s my om boy. But how many Indians have lived on Earth since the dawn of man? And yet the most expedient way to describe us is that we are “como Gandhi.”

This will be my second SM post exposing an underground eating establishment. Part of the allure of an underground restaurant is that it remains somewhat hush hush, hidden from the hordes of hipsters waiting to overrun it and then subsequently Facebook about it. Last weekend I went to my favorite Vietnamese sandwich shop in Houston. Tofu, carrots, and greens inside a hot 8” French bun for only $2.95. Magical. But on this visit, for the first time, it was packed and they were playing Jay Z and L. Fiasco over the sound system. The always empty parking lot was full so I had to park on the street and a bird shit on my car. So then, why would I ruin it for the select few D.C. residents who already know about this supper club I am about to expose? Because that’s my job. I see brown and I expose it, wherever it may be.

HUSH is a secret supper club in the U Street neighborhood of Washington, DC, offering Indian vegetarian meals you won’t find in any restaurant. At HUSH, the meals are sumptuous, fresh and organic. At each supper, the chef will give a spice tour and explain the origins of each meal.

Both the salon and dining room are designed to please the eye and relax the mind. Reserve a seat at the social table where strangers become friends, or request a table in the Salon for an intimate meal. [Link]

How it Works

Hush is run by a chef named Geeta who claims to be well versed in topics such as Jainism, anthropology, and food politics (a topic that combines my two favorite…topics). That’s all she is willing to reveal, although if you follow her tweets you may uncover more.

NEXT SUPPER CLUB DATES
Saturday, February 6 at 8 PM - FULLY BOOKED
Saturday, February 13 at 8 PM - FULLY BOOKED
SINGLE HEARTS - Sunday, February 14 at 7 PM [Link]

I like her Single Hearts concept:

‘Single Hearts’ - Sunday, February 14 at 7 PM open only for singles unburdened by love or lawful bliss (No married cheats on the prowl, please) Noah’s Ark Style - one man for every woman at the table.

Alright hordes. Go do your thing. Book her solid. And while your at it, ask her what she thinks about blogs.

There’s an amusing YouTube video going ‘round the Interwebz that I thought you mutineers might enjoy. It shows the President of Pakistan, Asif Ali Zardari addressing a crowd of supporters. In the middle of a speech about democracy he interrupts himself to shout “Shaddup” to the noisy crowd. As the blog CHUP put it, “maybe the President should consider being a little nicer to people, especially those who show up at his rallies.” Hmm, somebody’s momma didn’t teach him manners. My little cousins (who aren’t allowed to say the word) would be appalled. Or perhaps Zardari is just plain sick in the head? Either way, the clip makes for a good remix, don’t you think?

(h/t Anil)

Jay Sean, the brown (whom we’ve known about for years) who crooned “Down”, was on The Wendy Williams show two days ago. Behold:

After he performed “Down” and “Do you remember , Williams exclaimed to her guest, “You are, STUNNING!” She followed up with “You’re exotic and spicy, what is your background??”. Mr. Jhooti let her know that his “heritage” was Indian and immediately clarified that he did not, in fact, live in a “wigwam”, i.e. that he wasn’t THAT kind of Indian.

Other scintillating bits from the show included Jay swatting down rumors about Ashley Tisdale, a mention of how the New York Post named him one of NYC’s most eligible bachelors and Sean’s confirmation that he’s already got a bird. So all you single ladies (all the single ladies)…and single men (all the single men), if you were in to him…you’re tatti out of luck. :)

There were two stories relating to human cognition today that really had me thinking about the way we…think (how appropriate). The first involves the game of chess. You know, the game of kings invented so long ago in India:

Chess is commonly believed to have originated in North-West India during the Gupta empire, where its early form in the 6th century was known as caturanga (Sanskrit: four divisions [of the military] - infantry, cavalry, elephants, and chariotry, represented by the pieces that would evolve into the modern pawn, knight, bishop, and rook, respectively). The earliest evidence of Chess is found in the neighboring Sassanid Persia around 600 where the game is known under the name became chatrang. [Link]

Garry Kasparov, the former world chess champion (the current is India’s Viswanathan Anand) has penned a brilliant (absolute must-read) essay/review of the new book, Chess Metaphors: Artificial Intelligence and the Human Mind. The title of his essay could have easily been, “How I Learned to Stop Battling and Love the Computer.” It chronicles his victories over the machines, followed by his losses, followed finally by a type of brutally efficient partnership. Let the human worry about strategy and the machine about tactics.

…I narrowly defeated the supercomputer Deep Blue in a match. Then, in 1997, IBM redoubled its efforts—and doubled Deep Blue’s processing power—and I lost the rematch in an event that made headlines around the world. The result was met with astonishment and grief by those who took it as a symbol of mankind’s submission before the almighty computer. (“The Brain’s Last Stand” read the Newsweek headline.) Others shrugged their shoulders, surprised that humans could still compete at all against the enormous calculating power that, by 1997, sat on just about every desk in the first world.

It was the specialists—the chess players and the programmers and the artificial intelligence enthusiasts—who had a more nuanced appreciation of the result. Grandmasters had already begun to see the implications of the existence of machines that could play—if only, at this point, in a select few types of board configurations—with godlike perfection. The computer chess people were delighted with the conquest of one of the earliest and holiest grails of computer science, in many cases matching the mainstream media’s hyperbole. The 2003 book Deep Blue by Monty Newborn was blurbed as follows: “a rare, pivotal watershed beyond all other triumphs: Orville Wright’s first flight, NASA’s landing on the moon….” [Link]

Freedom of speech. It’s not something I take for granted. I grew up in Zambia during an era when you could say anything you wanted about the country’s president, as long as you had already started the engine of your getaway plane. That’s what I love about countries like America and Canada — freedom of speech has no bounds, as long as you don’t scream “Fire!” in a crowded theater, threaten the president or profess your undying love for Osama bin Laden. Okay, so it does have bounds, but you get the point. I don’t remember the last time a journalist or author had to run away from an angry mob. It’s just not the way things are done, as I learned several years ago when I tried to assemble a mob to chase Ann Coulter.

India allows a great amount of free speech, compared to many other countries. But just ask fans of Savita Bhabhi how free they are to enjoy her sexcapades. The cartoon seductress has been banned in India, perhaps to the delight of many a wife, who remembers the good old days when her husband got his thrills out of Asterix. As S. Mitra Kalita writes in the WSJ, Savita joins The Da Vinci Code, The Polyester Prince, and Royal Magazine as “examples of India’s hindrance of free speech.”

You might never have heard of Royal Magazine, but it’s an example of the squelching of free speech in India that seems more common—preemptive and driven by fear. Editor in chief Ronak Vyas wrote to me and said, “I have been publishing an online magazine that features nudity and had my share of problems in India. To be honest I feel like you can get away with anything as long as you don’t offend a particular person or group on a personal level.”

This being India, offending someone is a given. This being India, also the world’s largest democracy, the government needs to weigh what’s more important and whether it draws the line too soon, too early.

Consider this comment from Gaurav Jain: It’s “not about the internet or Savita alone, its (sic) a general lack of freedom in being able to criticise or comment on our holy cows (leaders, gods, other religious figures) … some mob somewhere will have a reason to protest most likely in a violent manner.”

Like me, he wonders whether the controversy stems from Savita being an “empowered woman making her own choices, perhaps this is a threat to certain sections of society that prefer to see their wives as creatures who should stay indoors and rear the kids (which is ACTUAL subjugation).” [Wall Street Journal]

Savita was banned because she’s an “empowered woman”??? Watch out Indra Nooyi, you could be next.

Fortunately, I’ve already downloaded hundreds of Indra’s pics to my hard drive. Let me know if you want any. And please indicate your preference: business suit or sari.

Himanshu from the Indo-American Arts Council (IAAC) passed on information about an event I thought mutineers around NYC and Stanford would find interesting. Tea with Chachaji is an off-Broadway family musical based on the the book “Chachaji’s Cup” by Uma Krishnaswami and directed and choreographed by Rajendra Ramoon Maharaj. It tells the story of a boy, his great-uncle and a teacup. Produced through a partnership between IAAC and Making Books Sing, the musical stars Raja Burrows as Neel, a young boy whose great-uncle, played by Tony Mirrcandani, teaches him valuable lessons about life through stories about a teacup brought over from India.

Did anyone catch the speech of Massachusetts’ new Senator-elect, Republican Scott Brown last night? I just saw the video of his speech and I think I was as shocked as anyone when he veered off-script to pimp out, I mean talk about his two daughters. But it did sound awfully familiar. Hmm, could Brown be ‘browner’ than we all thought? Who among us hasn’t heard a desi parent laud the virtues of their single child on the marriage market?

Brown, during his jubilant acceptance speech on Tuesday night, did the right thing and paused to acknowledge his family.

“As always, I rely on Gail’s love and support, and that of our two lovely daughters. So I want to thank Ayla and Arianna for their help as well,” Brown said, turning to his wife, TV reporter Gail Huff, and their daughters, Ayla, 21 - a one-time “American Idol” finalist - and Arianna, 19.

But then Brown went horribly wrong, at least in the Dad department - adding that his daughters were both “available.”

“Just in case anyone who’s watching throughout the country, yes they’re both available,” Brown shouted. [Link.]