Freedom to enjoy empowered women

Savita-Bhabhi.jpg

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.

 
 
Rasika Mathur Skates Into the Moshpit

the_three.jpg Kick, kick, push…. went our Sector 9 skateboards along the coast of the beach of Santa Barbara; my board was painted with surf waves, and hers was appropriately painted with an image of Ganesh. I was skating with Rasika Mathur, comedian, actress, and funny person extraordinaire. When I found out that Rasika was a skater chick, I knew that I just had to conduct our interview while skateboarding on the beach.

You may have seen her on MTV’s sketch comedy show Wild N Out or on the film festival circuit promoting her rap music sari tutorial, Sari (W)rap. Or maybe you’ve seen her in character as Nilam Auntie in a viral video. I caught up with Rasika just after she had just flown back from being on set in Ohio for The Taqwacores motion picture. Directed by Eyad Zahra, the movie was adapted from Michael Muhammad Knight’s fictitious book The Taqwacores and will be premiering on January 24th at the Sundance Film Festival. The movie revolves around the lives of punk rock Muslim characters that live in a punk house in upstate New York and their subsequent exploration of identity and shenanigans. The movie features Maxim sexpot Noureen Dewulf playing the burqa clad riot grrl Rabeya as well as featuring American Dreamz Tony Yalda playing the flamboyant Muzzamil (on the right in above picture), amongst others.

Playing the role of the activist Muslim punk chick character Fatima is Rasika Mathur. I first met up with her before she left for the movie set. She wanted some inspiration for her character, so I hung out with her for a day, taking her to the mosque and teaching her about “DIY”, “NOFX” and “circle pits” . I made her promise when she returned from set, that in exchange, I’d get a Sepia Mutiny exclusive interview. So here it is, my interview with Rasika Mathur.

On working on a “Muslim” focused movie, after being raised in a Hindu home:

It really helped me to expand my mind and break my perceptions. You took me to a mosque so that I could get some real hardcore research and so that I could get what the heck this book was describing this whole time. Maybe the best thing that people can do to become tolerant is to literally put themselves in other people’s shoes by doing a film. Because you have to study what the role is and I shifted my perception by doing this.

 
 
MexiDesi

Seems like Abhi may have more in common with turban wearing LA Mayor Villaraigosa than we thought. (via Razib)

Indians and Mexicans.png

In world wide context South Asians and mestizos can be viewed as somewhat analogous; a stable admixture between West and East Eurasian elements. Of course, the “East Eurasian” ancestry of mestizos consists of the New World descendants of Paleolithic Siberians, while those of South Asians are the ancient long resident populations of that region of the world.[geneexpression]

It is kind of a surprising finding. As an activist that works in the umbrella political category of Asian American and Pacific Islander, it’s interesting to see that Houston Gujaratis have more in common with LA Mexicans than East Asians. Of course, one is a construct of political identity and the other one is purely genetics.

Still. I totally see this as potential marriage fodder for Desis who want to prove to their parents that they have more in common with their Mexican boy/girlfriend. I guess Columbus wasn’t that far off then, was he?

 
 
A Little Wednesday Comedy: Kumail Nanjiani

Pakistani-American comedian Kumail Nanjiani, on “Benjamin Button”:

I also think some of his other bits are pretty good: The Thing, A New Drug Called Cheese, and Cellphones and Horror. It looks like this promo has material related to life in Pakistan, which I for one would be curious to hear more about.

For those in the NY area, Kumail Nanjiani is performing as part of a festival called “Minority Fest” this Friday, December 11, in Brooklyn. Other people participating in the event include Das Racist. and Hari Kondabolu, both Sepia Mutiny favorites. More info. about Minority Fest can be found here.

p.s. I’m at the Pizza Hut, I’m at the Taco Bell. I’m at the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell. What.

 
 
Daily Show on Salahis

If you haven’t already, peep The Daily Show’s take on the White House Gate Crashers. (Jon Stewart regarding Michaele Salahi, “Is that lady fondling our vice president’s man boobs?”)

The Daily Show With Jon StewartMon - Thurs 11p / 10c
The Real Asswipes of Washington, D.C.
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show
Full Episodes
Political HumorHealth Care Crisis
 
 
The Eidie Goat

GOAT.jpgEid Mubarak, Mutineers! There are two Eids that Muslims celebrate, one marks the end to a month of fasting and another marks the end to pilgrimage to Mecca, called Hajj. Today we celebrate the latter one, Eid-al-Adha. This Eid in particular is the one where a sacrifice is supposed to be made of a goat or cow (the meat is to be eaten later and donated), in remembrance of the story of Ibrahim being asked by Allah to sacrifice his son and his son being replaced by a goat.

It was for this reason, my friends and I joked around about how we needed an Eid goat. Easter has the bunny rabbit, Christmas has Santa Claus. But growing up as a Muslim kid in the U.S., we didn’t really have anything equivalent. I was always told Eid was my version of Christmas, but then, why did all the other kids get presents and we didn’t? As we got older, it seemed like the Eid goat would have been the perfect solution.

Thus, I had already goats on my mind when maitri tweeted the following “I Want a Goat” video [NSFW]. It’s promoting a program, I Want a Goat, where you can design and donate a goat to a village in India. The modern twist is that this video has hipster charm splashed all over it.

I realize the tie between this video and Eid is tenuous at best. I found the the song amusing and the cause seems legit. The project was started by a woman Debbie who volunteered in the village for seven months and saw a similar program run successfully in India. For only a $20 donation, you will be donating a goat to a village in Koraput. Why goat?

For tribal people who are landless, raising goats is a great alternative source of income. Families who breed goats can earn a good profit selling the kids in the local market. The extra income provides a safety net for families that can be used for things like medicine, food during lean periods and farm equipment.

 
 
UPDATED: A "Real Housewife" and her Husband Gate Crash the White House

Update: I’m watching the news, right now. Fox 5 DC is reporting that Michaele was never a Redskins Cheerleader. The Secret Service visited the couple’s winery this morning, but the party-crashers were not there. The Salahis DID meet Obama via a receiving line, Tuesday night. The Secret Service owned their failure in a strongly-worded statement today; the news said that they are considering pressing charges.

::

Before it occurred, the State Dinner was all anyone could talk about, here in Washington, D.C. After? We’re still talking about it— and yes, contrary to what some SM commenters think, State Dinners are a big deal. I will admit that my perception is perhaps tainted; I don’t just live inside the Beltway, no, I am surrounded by the chattering class and bold-faced names because I live in Georgetown, home to many elected officials, the journalists who cover them, and the staffers who serve them. So here? The State Dinner Mattered, with a majuscule “M”.

Fashion mattered. Etiquette mattered. The food mattered. Most of all, the “rules” mattered, because following them was how we guaranteed a successful event. One rule which was broken, in what many here see as a daring move to differentiate the Obama administration from those which preceded it? Serving food from the same culture of the guest who was honored:

…the Obamas shook things up by serving, among other dishes, Indian food to an Indian delegation, typically a no-no.

“You wouldn’t try to outdo the Indians; that would not be typical,” said Anita McBride, who served as Laura Bush’s chief of staff and took pains to praise Mrs. Obama as moving in a new direction. “It’s the perfect combination of American food with a nod to the visiting country.” [nyt]

It wasn’t just American food, it was a personal statement by the first African-American president. They may have started with “elite” arugula, but they also served collard greens. Who better to strike such a delicate balance, and to take a considerable risk, than a world-class chef with a seriously cross-cultural back story?

They selected a guest chef, Marcus Samuelsson of Aquavit in New York, an American citizen who was born in Ethiopia, reared in Sweden and cooks up melting pots of flavors and cuisines. [nyt]

Salahis

While the culinary “rule” was broken without repercussions, a different, more serious bout of rule-breaking is what has my city (and the world, really) uttering a collective “WTF?” As almost all of you may know by now, two fame-loving, local “socialites” crashed the State Dinner.

 
 
Kali-ma at Seder Dinner

Twenty-five years ago (jeez…has it been that long?) many of our parents were up in arms over the portrayal of Hindus in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. They talked on the phone to their friends ahout it, wrote letters of complaint, etc. Now, scenes from that film are regularly referenced in pop culture. Even a Jewish Seder dinner can be an occasion for a good “Kali Ma” joke:

And Manish asked me by email the other day (to paraphrase), “couldn’t they have picked someone less Temple-of-Doomish to invite to the White House Diwali ceremony?” Compare here.

It would definitely have been some sight if the Hindu Priest, Narayanachar Digalakote, had gone “Kali Ma” on Obama. Some probably expected it. Here is Fox News’ picture of the day from that day. Fox News viewers enjoy pictures of Obama bowing.

 
 
Another Tasteful Post

Yesterday, the blog Jezebel wrote about the product of all products: a special “mint” for all you lovely ladies out there. But this particular tasty treat doesn’t necessarily have to remain in your mouth… “Think of it as an Altoid for your lady parts or, as its website explains, “A small, naturally sweetened flavoring, free of artificial dyes, which was created to flavor the secretions of a woman when she is…”Whoops, sorry! I got censored by the SM aunties. You’ll just have to visit the NSFW link for more information. But what’s the desi angle, you ask? Or is this just another self-indulgent sex post?

 
 
He's Your Polish Dancer, Your Brown Actor for Hire

d.pudi.jpg“Most of the roles you get are not Polish…You don’t seem like a typical Pole,” Jimmy Kimmel joked while interviewing comic actor Danny Pudi on his late night show. The lanky Chicagoan and Polish-Indian American Pudi was sitting in a chair autographed by Rod Blagojevich.

And indeed, his role on the new TV series “Community,” is not Polish either. He plays Abed, a half-Palestinian character.

Pudi, whose mother immigrated from Poland and his father from India, acknowledged that portraying Polish characters was not his “wheelhouse.” Playing South Asian characters is.

“I played three Sanjays…Haven’t played any Polish characters yet.”

You can watch his Kimmel interview after the jump.

 
 
It May Only Be A Board Game But He Can Strike Fear Into Your Heart

Do not tell me you thought the Agarwalla brothers were the only brown in town on the Scrabble board! Witness Mehal Shah, he of the deceptively friendly face and evil Scrabble strategery. (H/T to my awesome webmistress, who sent me this link to an Ignite talk, which she got via mentalfloss. They rightly dub Mr. Shah “Jedi Master.” Because of his Jedi mind tricks.)

Watching “Fighting Dirty in Scrabble: How To Beat Anyone, Anytime, Anywhere, and At Any Cost” will take only five minutes of your life! Your living room competition will never be the same! (This is an important note: these are not your Stefan Fatsis-level tips; these are for people who, like Shah, “love to play Scrabble and really, really hate losing.”)

What won’t he do? No cheating, no stealing tiles—but I’ve gotta laugh when I hear Shah talk about aggressively making up words. I haven’t forgotten that a certain British relative of mine made up T-R-A-X a few years ago when I wasn’t looking. (“It means… You know. Trax,” she said when I looked again.)

I will admit, I am part of the Scrabble Rabble. With the demise of Scrabulous, I took to Scrabble Beta over Lexulous, and I play “live” whenever time permits. (As fate would have it, this week I am teaching Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale to my contemporary political fiction class at the University of Michigan. Scrabble even makes a fateful appearance in that novel! It’s a good board game for some literary analysis.)

Now, how much of what Shah says is applicable beyond the board? I tremble in fear. :)

Follow Shah on Twitter

Previous word nerd coverage here.

 
 
At least @#$% one

Sometimes a blog post requires no words. This is one. The video does the talking (Hat Tip: MTV Iggy). The language is NSFW.

 
 
 
Can I get one at the "As Seen on TV"-store at the Mall?

So Foursquare* isn’t rewarding me with any points for running around my city and worse than that, GMail is down (boo! et tu Goo?). What’s a web-addicted fool to do? Check her facebook, natch. It’s a good thing I did— because that’s where I saw this:

Posted by SM reader Jisha to her feed, I found the narrator’s sorority accent to be soothingly familiar, as she gushed about the very things I love to mock: Starbuck’s redundantly-named and poorly-made “Chai tea latte”, scam-y scientology…and movies about schlubby guys who miraculously pull hot chicks.

Judging from their comments below it, Jisha’s friends weren’t feeling the clip (I believe the word “weird” was offered as a reaction). I think it’s funny. Props to Lindsay Gareth and Kosha Patel, who did such a cute job with this spoof that I can almost overlook the use of “a” instead of “an” in “1-800-uh-Indian”. Almost. Every time she intones that number, all I can think of is “An, an, AN, damnit, AN!” And yes, I know that they were probably prioritizing having seven digits over preventing glottal stops, but still. Does anyone have $19.95 which they can spot me? Like J. Wellington Wimpy, “I’d gladly pay you Tuesday for a Indian today”.

 
 
Daily Show on Shah Rukh Khan: Aasif Mandvi's "Wheelhouse"

Aasif Mandvi on The Daily Show last night:

The Daily Show With Jon StewartMon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Shah Rukh Khan Detained at Newark
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show
Full Episodes
Political HumorHealthcare Protests

The little Hindi joke at the end was fun; that is why it makes a difference to have people from different ethnic backgrounds on the roster. (Did they bleep it live too?)

 
 
 
No strings attached

Happy Raksha Bandhan to those of you who celebrate it, from one who does not. Our family tried to introduce the custom once, when my sister was three, and there are some great photos of her crying and desperately holding on to the rakhi for dear life. There was no way she was going to give the sparkly object and mithai to her brother in return for a promise, merely oral, not even signed and notarized.

I imagine she also thought “I’ll fork over the tinsel you promise to protect me from you, you big bully! You got to stop bossing me around if you want the sweets. You’re not even big enough to protect me from anybody else, that’s mom and dad’s job.” And so the tradition never took hold.

When I got older, and my offer of protection was more credible, I realized that my sisters-at-large would be likely to take offense at my mafia-like offer of protection in return for tribute. After all, these were not simpering ladies, these were girls and women more than capable of kicking my kundi. If one of these women were ever to need protection, the best course would be to buy them a firearm and some range time and get out of their way.

The holiday also came across as both sexist and unfair. Why can’t I be weak and helpless and trade a trinket in return for protection? It seems like men are getting the worst deal since Indians sold Manhattan for a bunch of beads.

 
 
The Illest Buddhist

UPDATE: The video seems to have been disappeared from the internets (please link us up if you find it), but lyrics are still up here. (Actually, now the video’s back up and here it is on youtube.)

In his over-the-top “Sickest Buddhist” rap parody comedian Arj Barker of “Flight of the Conchords” and “Marijuana-Logues” fame portrays a Buddhist wannabe with an ego the size of Central Asia who joins classes to meet ladies but finds out that he can “kick ass at this pacifist shit.” One site offers a transcript of his lyrics:

 
 
Kalpen Modi At Your Service

Kal Penn and Obama.jpgKal Penn e-mailed me this week. That’s right. THE Kal Penn. When I went to check my personal gmail account two days ago there was an e-mail from “Kalpen S. Modi” sitting in my inbox. I gotta admit. I got slightly Desi girl giddy.

Dear Friend [he called me friend!],

Last month, President Obama unveiled United We Serve, an extended call to service challenging all Americans to help lay a new foundation for growth in this country by engaging in sustained, meaningful community service.

To encourage participation in service this summer and beyond, the Serve.gov website features a volunteer matching platform called All For Good that allows people to search for volunteer opportunities based on location and interests … The Administration is seeking to further engage the Asian American and Pacific Islander community and amplify outreach efforts in the cause of volunteerism.

Kalpen Modi, Associate Director, White House Office of Public Engagement

I shortened the letter a bit, and as you may have guessed, it was a mass e-mail Kalpen sent. Not a personal one to me. All the same, the e-mail basically told me two things.

  1. Kalpen Modi is now officially working in the White House.
  2. Kalpen Modi might actually be doing some real work for the AAPI community. How could I tell? On Thursday’s conference call presenting the campaign to community leaders, Modi hosted it. Quite professionally. And nary a pot reference.
 
 
Needed: Zardari Jokes (and Manmohan Singh, Rajapaksa, Sheikh Hasina...)

Via Amitava Kumar, an article in the Telegraph UK about President Zardari’s recent move to criminalize jokes about himself in Pakistan circulated via text or email:

Pakistanis who send jokes about Asif Zardari by text message, email or blog risk being arrested and given a 14-year prison sentence.

The country’s interior minister, Rehman Malik, announced the Federal Investigation Agency (FIA) had been asked to trace electronically transmitted jokes that “slander the political leadership of the country” under the new Cyber Crimes Act.

Mr Malik, said the move would punish the authors of “ill motivated and concocted stories through emails and text messages against the civilian leadership”.

The step, which was described by human rights groups as “draconian and authoritarian”, came after government was particularly riled by a barrage of caustic jokes being sent to the presidency’s official email. (link)

Reading that makes one wonder what the jokes were — there must have been some good ones.

In the interest of encouraging Pakistani democracy, I thought I would follow Amitava in requesting readers to submit their own jokes about Zardari. If we have our act together, we’ll even compile them and send them to the Pakistani consulate to be forwarded via the correct diplomatic channels.

The Telegraph includes three sample jokes:

 
 
Cute or Fashion Crime?

Ok you all know how I felt about this:

Today, a picture of her newborn Ikhyd popped up on her Twitter account. The kid, minus the outfit, is mad cute. But… I am totally against killing albino ladybugs just so that the baby of a wealthy singer can be dressed like this. Can we get PETA up in here or something? Acts of Fashion Fug against a child should at least be a misdemeanor. I’m just saying. And why does this look like a mug shot?

 
 
The snack is sacred but the idiocy divine

It seems that Burger King decided that Carl’s Jr had a good thing going using (Padma) Lakshmi to advertise hamburgers, so they ran an ad in Spain using Padma Lakshmi to advertise … Ham Burgers with the tag line “The Snack is Sacred.”

I don’t know about you, but even as a non-Hindu I found this pretty offensive. Lakshmi is the Goddess of wealth and learning, and they’re using her image in an ignorant way to promote a pretty cheap foodstuff. I mean, if you’re going to be offensive and use a Hindu Goddess to sell a meat product, why not go all the way and get your forbidden foodstuffs right? Hindus are most offended by beef and Muslims are most offended by pork. It’s like they couldn’t even be bothered to tell their non-Christian religions apart, even though Spain was ruled by Muslims for hundreds of years.

Of course, when news got out, a holy ruckus was raised, and BK issued a rare apology:

“We are apologising because it wasn’t our intent to offend anyone,” said spokeswoman Denise T Wilson. “Burger King Corporation values and respects all of its guests as well as the communities we serve. This in-store advertisement was running to support only local promotion for three restaurants in Spain and was not intended to offend anyone. “Out of respect for the Hindu community, the limited-time advertisement has been removed from the restaurants,” she added. [link]

At BK, we offend you our way.

 
 
"Is this real? Perhaps": The Best DVD Blurb Ever

The other day, my wife and her parents picked up a film called “Hum Phirr Mileinge” (sic) from our local Indian store, apparently without reading the blurb on the back.

Just to be clear, I have not altered the following in any way. I just ran it through the scanner, compressed it a little so as not to crash the site, and posted it for you:

hum phirr mileinge compressed small.jpg

If you’re having trouble reading it, never fear; the text is plagiarized verbatim from a Oneindia.in web review. And here is a short excerpt in case you’re too lazy to click:

To put it bluntly, Hum Phirr Mileinge is archaic and outdated. You actually pinch yourself while watching this one. Is this real? Perhaps, director Manish Goel is completely clueless about the kind of cinema being made these days. The direction is unbelievably weak and so is the writing. Frankly, nothing works in this film, except for a couple of tuneful songs [Sandesh Shandilya], which, sadly, show up even if there’s no situation.

Remember, they are trying to sell DVDs with this blurb!

My question for you is this: how do you think this happened? A DVD printing/label company operator phoning it in, or intentional subversion?

 
 
 
Mango Pickle Down River

mangopickle.jpgAharay! What a waste of perfectly good achar

The X-ray equipment used by TSA airport security in Columbus could not detect what was inside a sealed canister in a bag being inspected around 7 p.m. Tuesday. [wlwt]

A brown woman? A suspicious package? Airport security to the rescue!

The container was labeled “baby food,” but authorities say security personnel became suspicious when the woman who owned the suitcase claimed the canister held pickles. [kansascity]

There’s only one thing to do.

The fire department bomb squad removed the item from the airport and detonated it, discovering the mangoes.

No one was hurt. Flights and other airport operations were not interrupted.[wlwt]

There are two things I love to this story. First, I wonder where this woman was going that she absolutely had to pack mango achar in her luggage. Where ever it was, she just absolutely could not leave home without the essential mango pickle to take with her. Secondly, I find it hilarious that they detonated the canister of achar. I imagine flying tangy orange sauce exploding all over the members of the bomb squad and pieces of mango getting stuck in their hair. Couldn’t they have just uncapped the jar and tasted it instead?

Desi, please.

 
 
 
"Talk Hindi To Me"

Doubtless many readers saw the recent article in the New York Times, profiling Katherine Russell Rich, author most recently of a book called Dreaming in Hindi — a memoir of a year spent in Rajasthan, learning Hindi.

Something about the article in the Times bugged me, starting with the following passage:

One store owner insists in English that she is not actually speaking Hindi; when Ms. Rich explains, in Hindi, that she studied the language for some time in Rajasthan, he retorts, in English, “They don’t speak Hindi in Rajasthan.” (This happens not to be true.)

When Ms. Rich returned to New York from abroad, she spontaneously spoke Hindi to a friend of a friend. “He told me that when I spoke Hindi to him, it was like a body blow,” Ms. Rich said. “I think to Indians, sometimes it feels like I’m eavesdropping on a private conversation, like I’m breaking the fourth wall.” (link)

Wait, couldn’t it also be that the people Rich has been accosting, taxi drivers and convenience store clerks, might simply find this persistent American annoying, and have refused to speak Hindi with her mainly to make her go away? Lady, I’m sorry if your being in New York means your newly-acquired Hindi is going to start getting rusty. But I got a job to do, and that involves speaking English to patrons as I sell them stuff, not teaching you how to pronounce “lajawab” correctly. Next in line, please?

The question has to be asked: why does Katherine Russell Rich want to learn to speak Hindi? Is it to communicate with Hindi speakers while living in India? That would be a perfectly fine reason, indeed, an admirable one. But I suspect that sadly her real desire was to a) get paid for writing a book where she can talk all about her Hindi lessons and her impressions of Rajasthan, only to b) promptly move back to Manhattan, where she’ll irk Hindi speaking New Yorkers with her persistent demands that they speak Hindi with her?

Another annoyance in the article is the presumption that people refuse to acknowledge a white woman who speaks Hindi because we desis like to gossip about Americans in our secret language:

To some people from India, Ms. Rich learned, it is insulting to be addressed in anything other than English, a language of the privileged. And for some immigrants, domain over a language unfamiliar to most Americans must feel like one of the few riches they can claim. (link)

I really don’t know where the author of the article got this idea. (Why not ask an actual Indian, Hindi-speaker before making the speculative statement that “domain over a language unfamiliar to most Americans must feel like one of the few riches they can claim”?)

Finally, there is the obligatory dis on second-generation, “heritage” students who take Hindi classes at their universities:

“A lot of Indians who were born here or moved here when they were very small want to rediscover the language,” he said. (Ms. Rich said that she had overlapped with such students at New York University, and that many were already proficient in the language, less interested in their heritage and more interested in an easy A.) (link)

I’ll have you know, Ms. Rich, that most second gen, Indian-American college students do not take Hindi for this reason. I myself took Hindi at Cornell, and my professor gave me a “B” in intermediate Hindi (I deserved it, but it still smarts: certainly not an “easy A”).

In fact, most Indian-American college students actually take Hindi to meet, and flirt with, other Indian-American college students. So there.

 
 
Shashi Tharoor, minister atwitter

Should government ministers use Twitter to keep the public tharoor_twitter.jpginformed of their daily activities? That’s a question being debated in India, thanks to new Minister of State for External Affairs Shashi Tharoor, who reportedly is the first Indian minister to actively use Twitter.

In case you aren’t one of his growing legion of followers, here’s just a sampling of his recent tweets:

First day in Parliament. Still can’t believe I made it to Delhi! Remind me not to fly Kingfisher again.
7:05 AM May 19th from TwitterBerry

Have given 13 interviews in 3 languages and 2 more TV shows pending. A little overwhelmed by the media scum.
3:31 PM May 19th from TwitterBerry

Scrum. I meant, scrum.
3:32 PM May 19th from TwitterBerry

@koshy no, I won’t be tweeting in Malayalam.
6:54 PM May 19th from TwitterBerry

@sreenivasan I’ve made 500 campaign speeches in Malayalam, given 150+ interviews in Malayalam, cursed my ex-wife in Malayalam!
6:59 PM May 19th from TwitterBerry

@verghese yes, I do regret the last part. I should have done it in French.
7:02 PM May 19th from TwitterBerry

Lunch with Vijay Amritraj, tennis ace and old friend. Discussed Wimbledon, Fed vs. Nad.
2:34 PM May 20th from TwitterBerry

@bhupathi yes, I’m more of a “Go Fed” guy than a “Go Nad” guy.
2:43 PM May 20th from TwitterBerry

Office computer still won’t work  … too many bugs. Clerk used a spray and 100 roaches ran out!
10:22 AM May 24th from TwitterBerry

 
 
Laugh Until/Because It Hurts: The Onion Does Sri Lanka

It’s been a rough several months reading the news out of Sri Lanka. But fortunately, The Onion noticed.

And thus we have the painfully hilarious Michelle Obama’s Arms Meet With Sri Lankan Refugees

(Spotted via Twitter. I’ve become a bit of a Twitter fiend lately.)

It is not unlikely that you have read or at least seen one article about Michelle Obama’s arms—her bold (?) sleevelessness, her workout routine, her admirably solid triceps and biceps and DISCIPLINE. The woman is RIPPED. Information about Michelle Obama’s arms is, for the most part, plentiful and straightforward and accessible. And this is comparatively ridiculous. As the piece indicates, it is pretty much like THE ARMS exist as an entity separate from the First Lady herself. Like THE ARMS are deeply important. You would think everyone cared about THE ARMS.

What else is going on in the world? A gentle jolt, courtesy of The Onion’s lede:

VAVUNIYA, SRI LANKA—In a rare diplomatic trip overseas, first lady Michelle Obama’s arms visited the largest refugee camp in Sri Lanka this week, bringing hope and comfort to countless victims of the nation’s 26-year civil war.

The article is actually weirdly informative. References to the number of displaced, the human rights minister, Manik Farm, the length of the war, the nature of ongoing suffering…

There are probably people who will only read about Sri Lanka in this one article. It’s comforting to think that if that’s true, at least those people will get not only a laugh, but also a very real sense of the most urgent issue in Sri Lanka right now: the people who need humanitarian aid. Well done, Onion. Humor and heart.

(Reminded me of the post-9/11 issue. Find American Life Turns Into Bad Jerry Bruckheimer Movie here.)

 
 
 
Handicapping the semi-finalists

This is sick. Out of the 41 semifinalists left standing today, 15 of the are Indian Americans. The Kenyans have running. The Cubans, baseball. The Chinese, ping-pong. Indian Americans own spelling.

It was a moment to savor. Of the record 293 participants at 82nd Scripps National Spelling Bee, only 41 moved on to the nationally televised semifinals that start Thursday morning (10 a.m. ET, ESPN)…

Expected to be in that final group are several returning favorites. Fourteen-year-old Keiko Bridwell of Duncan, S.C., back for the fourth time after tying for 17th last year, had no problem with “swivel” and “mahout” (one who keeps or drives elephants) in her oral rounds and breezed into the semifinals.

Is it easier now because she’s a veteran?

“More pressure,” Keiko said. “Everybody wants me to do better.”… [Link]

When ESPN calls you the Spelling Bee favorite it is just like putting an NFL player on the cover of a Madden game. You are probably cursed. Therefore, based on my own intensive scouting I offer up the following thoughts for those people who have bookies in Vegas and want to bet on these young horses. Word of advice: always bet on brown.

The first one I want you to keep an eye on is Vaibhav S. Vavilala from Indiana. Double V as he is known on the circuit is a 4 time competitor. Experience helps, but it can also prove to be a mental block because you can better visualize past failure.

Click for full profile

The next contestant I want you to watch for is Kavya “The Destroyer” Shivashankar. Like Double V above she is a four time veteran. According to her profile the thirteen year old looks forward to becoming a neurosurgeon. The Kavyas we know stop at nothing when the smell of success is in the air.

Click for full profile

 
 
Please, Shekhar, Make It Stop

Shekhar Kapur has made the worst advertisement ever, for Schweppes. It stars Nicole Kidman, Arjun Rampal, Rubina Ali (the little girl from Slumdog Millionaire), the Lake Palace at Udaipur, and a thick, dripping heap of tacky, pseudo-sensual, Orientalist ambience. I think it’s sort of meant to be ironic, but the irony doesn’t really work:

What is the thing you hate most about it? I’d like to compile a complete list and send it to the man.

I used to really admire Shekhar Kapur, for Masoom, The Bandit Queen and for the first Elizabeth. More recently, I started to think something something had gone wrong when my wife and I wasted one of our rare babysitter nights to go see the half-baked Elizabeth: The Golden Age. Now, after watching this ad, I think I’ll abstain from Shekhar Kapur (and probably also Schweppes) entirely.

 
 
 
Even the sock puppets want in on Slumdog

Via Harbeer comes this video: a sock-puppet parody of, what else, Slumdog Millionaire:

Although, I am not sure what I think of the Punjabi MC performance at the end.

 
 
I Wanna Hold Your Hand

It's become pretty old hat for us to find Bollywood rip offs of Western music and movies. Indian Superman is probably still my alltime favorite but this music video manages to chart new ground on an extremely crowded landscape.

Not only do they rip off the tune, they also rip off the band -

Not wanting to be left out of the fun, some Westerner's gave the video the Tunak Tunak treatment. The result is below the fold -

 
 
Dating advice from...Al Qaeda

An unintentionally hilarious (to me) story on NPR Monday morning. It seems that West Point researchers stumbled upon a terrorist recruitment “how-to” manual:

Researchers at West Point recently stumbled on the 51-page manual while they were visiting a jihadi chat room, called Ecles. It’s a Web site that allows members to have interactive discussions, post videos and download manuals. Ecles is the second most popular jihadi chat room on the Web, and al-Qaida often posts things there. Because of that, it is a place counterterrorism analysts track regularly.

So when the West Point analysts discovered a step-by-step primer called “The Art of Recruiting Mujahedeen,” it got their attention. On one level, the manual might be an early indication that al-Qaida is trying to identify new sleeper terrorists. On the other hand, the book is so basic it seems to suggest al-Qaida is getting desperate for new members. [Link]

What is it in the manual that suggests desperation to some? Well, if I were to slap a different, more pleasant cover on the book and then re-name it to, let’s say… “The Art of Seducing Desi Boys” I think I could make big money by marketing it to some SM readers. Behold the advice, straight from the manual [with my suggested modifications]:

Here’s how the manual, as translated by the CIA, suggests a recruiter build a rapport with a recruit:

“This stage lasts approximately three weeks [unless it overlaps with March Madness in which case it may take longer],” it says. “You must do something important at this stage [such as letting him go past first base]. You must identify his interests and relations with people [especially with his overprotective mother] and how he spends the whole 24 hours, meaning you study him secretly to be reassured about your choice [and make sure he does not talk about finance, medicine, or Battlestar Galactica too much…well definitely not finance or medicine].”

This section touches on such things as being nice to the recruit. It suggests the recruiter pretend to be his friend, perhaps even buy him small gifts [like the Wii]. It ends with a questionnaire to assess progress. “Is the recruit [more] anxious to see you [than Jamal was to see Latika]?” it asks. You get one point for “no” [because he probably doesn’t have many options anyways] and three points for “[hell] yes.” Does he accept your advice and respect your opinion [about how he should smile like Sanjay Gupta more often]?… “If you have received less than 10 points, you are on the wrong path [and need to try again on Shaddi.com, or a speed dating event], repeat the stages from the beginning. From 10 to 18, you are on your way [to achieving your Bollywood Dreams].” [Link]

I’m telling you. There is money to be made in this book idea of mine.

 
 
Gobi is brain food

We regularly get news tips about freakishly smart desi kids, like six year old Pranav Veera:

Pranav Veera can recite the names of the U.S. presidents in the order they served in office. He can say the alphabet backward. Give him a date back to 2000, and he’ll tell you the day of the week. He’s only 6 years old… Pranav has an IQ of 176… Albert Einstein’s IQ was believed to be about 160. The average IQ is 100. [link]

Yawn. Another desi Doogie in diapers. I mean, the kid is cute:

But he’s not really that smart:

What does Pranav want to be when he grows up? “An astronaut,” he said without hesitation. [link]

Besides which, I know the secret of our racial success. No, it’s not secret pooja, genetic superiority or even sheer numbers (if one person in a million has an IQ of 176 or above, and there are over a million desis in America … ), it’s parents:

 
 
 
Introducing DesiFilter: for all your Stalking Needs!

And some of you wonder why I sweat engineers…look at what amazing things they do! Hot off our tip-line:

A couple of weeks back, Sree asked SAJA Forum readers to help him see if there were any Desis affected by the Madoff swindle: http://www.sajaforum.org/2009/02/crime-any-desis-on-the-madoff-client-list.html
As a techie, needing to have humans manually crowdsource the filtering of Desi names out of a long list seemed inefficient.
That’s why I built DesiFilter, a new web tool to help community journalists and obsessive Desi-angle stalkers:
http://www.desifilter.com (click on “Example 1”, etc. for sample datasets)
It’s pretty simple — just feed it some text, and it’ll go through a list of about 26,000 common South Asian names and highlight possible matches.
South Asian names are super-multicultural. I tried to remove most common Anglo names (otherwise any list of American names would be all false positives), but there’s still substantial overlap with Iranian, Arab, Turkish, and Portuguese names. It may miss Anna John and catch Osama Bin Laden — but it’s still infinitely easier than looking for potentially Desi names by hand.
My goal is for the tool to be part of any obsessive Desi-angle stalker’s toolkit. I’m interested in what you or Sepia readers find with it. I’d love feedback. Thanks.

You want feedback? Boy, you ‘bout to get you some feedback, let me tell YOU. ;) I love how it’s an accepted practice to be an “obsessive, Desi-angle stalker”. It’s just so matter-of-fact. And warm and fuzzy— we at SM are not the only ones! Admit it, you totally do it, too. When movie credits roll, and you see a Best Boy named Neel/Jay/Anil Patel/Sen/Singh, you feel a little twinge of recognition…or indigestion. Who told you to get a Large popcorn AND nachos?

Anyway, is this the first time I’ve reprinted an ENTIRE, somewhat lengthy missive to the tip line, verbatim? Why, I think it is. I just don’t have the heart to remove anything. Especially any sentence which allows me to escape freely (muahahaha) while catching Bin Laden. FINALLY! Someone needed to do it and the U.S. sucks at it. Jai Hind! No, wait…Jai Ho! Actually, more like Jai HIM——> Anirvan.

Of course, if you’re a bibliophile, you already knew him; he’s behind the very respected BookFinder.com

…the best resource (online or off) for finding used, rare, and out of print books. The Library of Congress recommends it; both Newsweek and Money magazines called it one of the two best book sites online (the other, in both cases, being Amazon.com). [link]

And no, Anirvan didn’t pay me to splort all over your screen with my giddiness over his geekery. I splorted for free! Wait, that sounds awful. My point is, we get dozens, if not hundreds of tips. We rarely have the resources to cover each one. Most of you are aware of this.

I’m sure Anirvan sent in his DesiFilter message, shrugged, and thought “maybe”. He certainly couldn’t have expected that I’d put down my outrageously late dinner of lemon rice and paavaka mezhukkupuratti, pause the DVR and postpone packing for my trip tomorrow, just to publish an effusive endorsement of his efforts. He deserves it, though. It’s not every day that reading a tip makes me go —> :D. Better living through technology, y’all. I’m ‘bout it bout ‘it. Let the stalking begin! Wait, that doesn’t sound right, either…

 
 
Gassy? Bloated? Fatigued? YOU may be suffering from PSSD!

Mutineers, have you been the victim…of strange assumptions and blatant stupidity?

Are you confused? Uneasy? Constipated?

You may be suffering from PSSD. Post-Slumdog Stress Disorder is a very real ailment, with devastating consequences for its sufferers. Victims of PSSD often, on a daily, if not hourly basis, endure flashes of rage, manic ranting, rocking back and forth while twitching slightly in the corner, and a smug proclivity to email links to anti-“Slumdog Millionaire” news stories with the subject line: “HA! Look who agrees with me! LOOK!!”.

If you have been accosted by allegedly well-meaning but clearly oblivious, pink cylons who initiate insensitive conversations about this movie with you, DO SOMETHING. Instead of being harmed by that dangerous trauma trigger, show them this educational video, so that they leave you the fuck alone, then you can go back to being bitter about not going to medical or law school, in peace.


Link courtesy of old skool mutineer SexyGultiHo. And yes, that’s his screen name.

 
 
Proposed agreement between Aishwarya and Freida

WHEREAS, Aishwarya Bachchan (née Rai) won the AshFreida.jpg Miss World contest in 1994, bringing glory to India and paving the way for three lesser beauties to win the same title.

WHEREAS, Freida Pinto was a model who appeared in ads for Hutch, Airtel and Wrigley’s Chewing Gum, but was not selected by L’Oréal, the world’s largest cosmetics and beauty company, to grace billboards in New York, Toronto and other major cities around the world, causing innumerable men to drive their cars into telephone poles.

WHEREAS, Aishwarya Bachchan has long been known as “The Most Beautiful Woman in the World,” a title bestowed on her by none other than Julia Roberts, which, along with the acronym TMBWIIW, is widely recognized as her trademark, in much the same way as Angelina Jolie is widely considered to possess the trademark of TMBWITWOTA, or “The Most Beautiful Woman in the World Other Than Aishwarya.”

WHEREAS, Aishwarya Bachchan has appeared in 40 movies, has been crowned the “Queen of Bollywood,” and is a favorite of Mani Ratnam, Ashutosh Gowariker and other top directors who have created blockbusters featuring such acclaimed stars as Amitabh Bachchan, Abhishek Bachchan and Aishwarya Bachchan.

WHEREAS, Freida Pinto has appeared in just one English movie, a role that required her mainly to smile and look pretty, while Aishwarya Bachchan has starred in several English movies such as Bride and Prejudice, Mistress of Spices and The Pink Panther 2, roles that required her to not just smile and look pretty, but also flutter her eyelashes.

 
 
Dear Anu Lentils: Advice for the second generation

DEAR ANU: I’m tired of the dating scene and have decided that I’d like to have an arranged ask anu.jpg marriage, but my parents insist that I have a love marriage. They don’t want me to end up like them. “A love marriage may not last, but at least you will be happy for a short time,” my father said. “With an arranged marriage, you may be unhappy forever.”

I cried and pleaded with them to arrange my marriage. Finally, my mother said, “Okay, then. We will arrange a love marriage for you.” They want to arrange it with the son of my father’s dentist. They want me to date him for six months and try my best to fall in love with him. “He is a good boy,” my mother said. “He will not expect you to sleep with him on the first date.”

I just about screamed when I heard that. “I’m saving myself for the right man!” I said. My father, who happens to be a banker, smiled and nodded his head. “Saving is good,” he said. “But boys these days, before making any investments, they like to do some checking.”

Please help me! I don’t know what to do. — SoConfused in SoCal

DEAR SO CONFUSED: Yours is a common complaint I’ve been getting from the younger generation. Many parents aren’t totally happy with their arranged marriages and want something better for their children. But the children have been through the dating process and want something better for themselves, something that doesn’t involve being dumped.

I think the idea of arranging a love marriage is a good one, but so is falling in love with an arranged marriage. The important thing is to end up with the right person, someone who will love and cherish you, someone who’s interested in a long-term investment, rather than a quick withdrawal.

 
 
Don’t be Loose

India’s religious right has been taking a public relations beating this past week. The newly formed Consortium of Pub-going, Loose and Forward Women (which, by the way, is the greatest name for a group since the Committee for the Propagation of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice) has organized the Pink Chaddis Campaign to oppose the Sri Ram Sena’s despicable actions last month and their impending Valentine’s Day protests:

The group says it will give the pink underwear to Sri Ram Sena (Army of Lord Ram) on Valentine’s Day on Saturday.

[SRS] was blamed for the bar attack in the southern city of Mangalore last month.

Pramod Mutalik, who heads the little known Ram Sena and is now on bail after he was held following the attack, has said it is “not acceptable” for women to go to bars in India.

He has also said his men will protest against Valentine’s Day on Saturday. [Link]

Let’s just hope that the SRS leaders don’t have a fetish for women’s underwear or this campaign will not have its intended effect.

In other news (perhaps not entirely unrelated) the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), India’s Hindu nationalist group, has decided to start marketing a soft drink that contains cow urine. They see it as a refreshing alternative to Coke or Pepsi. I am sure they would rather young women kick back with a six pack of these instead of be loose at a bar with a beer:

Om Prakash, the head of the department, said the drink - called “gau jal”, or “cow water” - in Sanskrit was undergoing laboratory tests and would be launched “very soon, maybe by the end of this year”.

“Don’t worry, it won’t smell like urine and will be tasty too,” he told The Times from his headquarters in Hardwar, one of four holy cities on the River Ganges. “Its USP will be that it’s going to be very healthy. It won’t be like carbonated drinks and would be devoid of any toxins.”

The drink is the latest attempt by the RSS - which was founded in 1925 and now claims eight million members - to cleanse India of foreign influence and promote its ideology of Hindutva, or Hindu-ness. [Link]

I am curious, does anyone know how the cow urine aftershave splash has been doing in sales?

 
 
Bobby Jindal will change the world

Do you like lists? I love ‘em. My favorites include “100 things to do before you die,” “50 ways to lose your blubber,” and “25 ways to hide your bald spot.” (No, I don’t have a bald spot. I have a bald zip code.)Jindal.jpg

I just found another list. It’s called “Ten people who could change the world” and — surprise, surprise — Bobby Jindal is on it. The man never ceases to amaze me. I mean, he’s destined to change the world, whereas I have enough trouble changing my little son’s diaper.

The list appeared in the British magazine New Statesman, along with a profile of the Louisiana governor and future president.

Bobby Jindal talks too fast. That, both admirers and detractors agree, is the most noticeable flaw in the impressive presentation he offers as the first Indian-American governor and perhaps the best prospect for revitalising a Republican Party that has just started its tour of the wilderness … [Link]

Come on, guys. He doesn’t talk too fast. You just need to brush up on your Punjabi. You do know that he isn’t always speaking English, don’t you?

The man is brilliant. He speaks Punjabi, Hindi, Telugu, Tamil, Malayalam, French, Spanish, Arabic, Swahili and Xhosa, to name just a few. He’ll be the first U.S. president who can talk to foreign leaders in their native tongues. That would be a stark contrast from the last Republican president, who could barely talk to foreign leaders in his native tongue.

His rush of words is likely linked to the rush of his ambition, and his ambition - at 37, just two years above the minimum to be president - appears beyond restraint. He began his assimilation aged four, when he announced to his parents, a civil engineer and state official who moved from the Punjab to Louisiana before their son was born, that he wanted to be called “Bobby”, after a character in the 1970s sitcom The Brady Bunch, rather than his given name, Piyush. [Link]

You hear that? Bobby began his assimilation at age 4! The only thing I was assimilating at age 4 was payasam. Changing my name was the farthest thing from my mind. I was focusing on more exciting things, such as climbing the tree in the front yard, bouncing a ball off the neighbor’s wall, and pulling my sister’s hair.

 
 
Doctoring the documents like never before

India has a reputation for producing a lot of doctors, but it mayfake docs.jpg also be gaining a reputation for producing a lot of doctoring. The fake-document industry appears to be flourishing like never before, which makes you wonder how many of those doctors have doctorates that were doctored. Not many, I believe, but every now and then, a fraudulent doctor is busted, perhaps after giving a patient reason to doubt his medical knowledge.

Patient: “Doctor, my angina is killing me. Please help me!”

Doctor: “Okay, lie back and spread your legs.”

A Bangladeshi man named Golam Kibria was recently fined for practicing medicine with no real  qualifications — unless you count that high school certificate.

After interrogation, Kibria confessed holding no medical qualifications. He said he began his career as an employee at a pharmacy in Kushtia in 1991. Since he wanted ‘to become a doctor’, in 2003 he went to India and bought MBBS and MD (Doctor of Medicine) certificates at a cost of Tk 12,000 from a network of people there who specialise in sale of ‘fake’ certificates of different colleges and universities. [Link]

Only Tk 12,000 ($175) for a pair of medical degrees? Wow, I wonder if I can finally make my mother’s dream come true. Don’t worry: I’m not planning on practicing medicine — just practicing being a good son.

Imagine how pleased my mom would be to display my MD certificate on her bedroom wall, right next to my PhD from Harvard and MBA from Wharton.

 
 
Don’t listen to what’s inside your head

Earlier this week I was surveying some recently and soon-to-be-released albums as I decided what to load on to my mp3 player. Like many, I enjoy listening to music when I work out and especially when I run, so something upbeat was in order. I checked out the new Common and Lily Allen albums and they seemed worth loading. Then however, I came upon the must have release-of-the-week and used up the rest of my allowance:

Before I go any further I want to be clear that I don’t think that jokes about schizophrenia are appropriate. It is not Sanjaya’s fault that he has to listen to the musical voices inside his head. However, I do blame his manager and the record producers for giving the rest of us a ring-side seat. Manson-like cults could form around the contents of this body of work. The first single (titled “A Quintessential Lullaby”) is a psychedelic journey that blends the line between real and dream:

I mean…the lyrics quite literally blew my mind. Tomorrow morning I am going to write down what “happens when I wake up” while I play a Karsh Kale tune in the background.

 
 
Missing: Bollywood Movie Awards

Nassau County Police in New York are seeking information on the bolly_awards_2007.jpg whereabouts of the Bollywood Movie Awards, last seen on May 26, 2007, at the Nassau Veterans Memorial Coliseum in Long Island.

The BMAs, as they were affectionately called, were reported missing last May and have not been found, despite frantic efforts by American and Indian search and rescue teams.

“We’ve searched by land, by water and by air,” said Nassau County Police spokesman Scott Hansen. “We even sent divers to the bottom of the East River. The only thing they found was a rusted trophy won by David Hasselhoff at the 2005 BMAs.”

Hansen said the police department has received dozens of calls from concerned citizens about the BMAs. “One man was particularly distraught,” Hansen said. “He said he cannot survive another year without seeing Bipasha Basu in a tight dress.”

Hansen said foul play is not suspected, but police are looking into various possibilities. They have interviewed a number of past BMA nominees who didn’t win an award. But most did not attend the show, so their disappointment, if any, was minimal, Hansen said.

“That’s the thing about the BMAs,” Hansen said. “They always strived to make people happy. Almost all celebrities who were willing to attend the show were given an award. Special awards were created for them if necessary.”

But he acknowledged that police had questioned Aamir Khan, who they suspect has held a grudge since 1999, when Shahrukh Khan won a BMA for “Best Sensational Performance.”

“I don’t know much about Bollywood,” Hansen said, “but I hear that Aamir believes he’s more sensational than Shahrukh.”

Action hero Steven Seagal, who won the BMA’s “Humanitarian Award” in 2001, is among several Hollywood celebrities who have expressed shock and concern about their disappearance.

“I hope we can find them,” Seagal said. “As far as I’m concerned, the BMAs are better than the Academy Awards. They gave me an award and they even let me sing. The Academy Awards won’t even let me in the building.”

 
 
Diary of Barack Obama's desi roommate

The ongoing search for all photos and documents from President diary.jpg Obama’s past has turned up a diary that his desi roommate kept in the early 1980s. Some of the entries are quite revealing:

Aug. 28, 1981: Barack and I went searching for furniture today. We found a couch that someone had dumped on the street. It doesn’t look too bad, once we turned the cushions over. It doesn’t smell bad either, once Barack sprayed it with his Brut.

Sept. 14, 1981: Barack and I have been eating pizza, macaroni and cheese, and Ramen noodles for dinner. But today, I decided to make chicken karahi for a change. Barack tasted it and said, “Mmmm … This is a good change. Did I tell you how much I believe in change?”

Oct. 2, 1981: I tried to get Barack to give up cigarettes today. I said to him, “Why smoke cigarettes when you can smoke pot?” But it didn’t work. Poor guy. He really needs some help.

Nov. 13, 1981: Barack is a little too square. I’m trying to get him to be more stylish, more cool. Yesterday, I took him to see Sholay at a friend’s house, hoping that Amitabh Bachchan’s style would rub off on him. And today, Barack is walking around wearing a wide-collared shirt and saying, “Tera naam kya hai, Basanti?”

Nov. 20, 1981: Barack is such a dreamer. He talks about being leader of America one day. I told him that he needs to shoot for something more realistic, such as leader of the church choir. I mean, the day a black man becomes leader of America is the day I need to give up weed.

 
 
Books and movies you shouldn't miss

I was chatting with a friend –- let’s call him Varun –- about books and movies. Varun considers himself an expert on almost everything. So I asked him to name his favorite books and movies.

VARUN: “Well, one of my favorite books is Salman Rushdie’s M. M. Night book.jpg Night’s Children.

ME: “Don’t you mean Midnight’s Children?”

VARUN: “No, M. Night’s Children. It’s the story of two brave girls who delete a movie script on their father’s computer, saving the world from another disaster.”

ME: “Wow, Salman is amazing. Give the man a Nobel already! What other books do you like?”

VARUN: “I really love Jhumpa Lahiri’s first book Interpreter of My Laddoos.”

ME: “Don’t you mean Interpreter of Maladies?”

VARUN: “No, Interpreter of My Laddoos. It’s the story of a woman named Anjali who owns an Indian restaurant in New York and tries to win the attention of a handsome IT specialist by giving him two free laddoos after every meal. She keeps wondering if he will get the message.”

ME: “Jhumpa is fantastic. Where does she get her ideas?”

VARUN: “Yes, she’s fabulous. I also like her latest book: Unaccustomed Girth.”

ME: “Don’t you mean Unaccustomed Earth?”

VARUN: “No, Unaccustomed Girth. It’s the story of a skinny lad from Kolkata named Gopal who comes to America to study at Boston University and falls in love with the all-you-can-eat buffet.”

ME: “Another winner from Jhumpa! What other books do you like?”

 
 
Pam Anderson: "Take their balls, not their lives!"

Am I the only one who thinks of an infamously disturbing Borat quote whenever Pamela Anderson is mentioned: “She had golden hairs, teeth as white as pearls, and the…”. I am? Sigh. Okay, fine.

Via the Beeb:

Stray dogs in India’s financial capital, Mumbai (Bombay) should be sterilised not killed, says former Baywatch star Pamela Anderson.
Animal lover Ms Anderson intervened on the dogs’ behalf in a letter to the city authorities.
“Dogs cannot use condoms but… they can be ‘fixed’ painlessly,” she wrote.
The star learnt of the dogs’ plight after Mumbai’s High Court recently said strays should be killed as they were a “permanent nuisance” to the public. [BBC]
Hmmm. That same BBC article states that “Despite several sterilisation programmes, the population of strays has not been controlled”, so I’m not sure if the Baywatch Babe’s solution is an effective one.

More:

The court gave the ruling in response to a public interest litigation filed by a Mumbai-based non-governmental organisation (NGO), In Defence of Animals, challenging the validity of certain provisions of a law that permits killing of dogs under certain conditions. It said animals had as much constitutional right to life as humans and had a “right to expect compassion from Indian citizens”.[ST]
The court interpreted “nuisance” in this instance as “anything that endangers life or is injurious to the health of the public at large”.
While it noted that mere barking could not be cause for killing a dog, “dogs that have the habit of chasing moving vehicles, especially two-wheelers, may be treated as a public nuisance as they could lead to accidents”. [ST]
If all else fails, they could consider one Delhi politician’s innovative solution to his city’s problem with strays. ;) But back to Bombay.
Animals rights activists say that as many as 70,000 strays in Mumbai and many more across the states of Maharashtra and Goa may be disposed of if the High Court’s ruling goes ahead.
The decision has been stayed until the end of this month.[BBC]
According to the Straits Times article I quoted, those 70,000 stray dogs are responsible for 25,000 dog bites, annually. So while some fed-up residents have taken to poisoning dogs, animal activists caution that cleaning up the city is a better solution, since the dogs tend to forage through the garbage for food. I’ll close with a quote from “Medical professional Samir Guliyani”, whose name delights me to no end, and who went beyond the obligatory, understandable and predictable “Who does she think she is?”-sentiment:
“The way they suddenly pounce on bike riders is dangerous. Something has to be done and they have to be off roads.”
On the subject of Pamela herself, Mr Guliyani said: “She is hot but why is she writing to the municipal commissioner[BBC]

Duh, that’s what hot people do.

 
 
Never trust a Ginger. Never.

One of you phoned me, all out of breath, to say: “Have you heard? Prince Harry said racist things about BROWN people! This is so Sepia Mutiny. Are you going to blog it? Are you? Are you? Because, like, if you do? I don’t want credit, but I can’t WAIT until SM covers it. Okay? So, are you blogging it? When?”

Well…how ‘bout now, you not-annoying-at-all badger.

The video embedded above features Prince Harry disparaging darkies, his Grandmother and perhaps Canadians, as well— I couldn’t tell at times, with his accent. Well, that and a lot of people seem to insult Canadians (why?), so it seems like a safe assumption. The footage commences with time spent in an airport, waiting for a flight to the former British colony of Cyprus; after some editing, Harry is shown later on, discussing night maneuvers in Cyprus, as well as his pubes.

Speaking of those, they are what inspired the title of this post. In my title, I use the word “Ginger”, to refer to an infamous South Park episode which can help us understand why the Prince did what he did; perhaps by understanding, we may gain closure, and move on.

I had initially typed, “What next? Water is wet?” in the little Movable Type box before going the Ginger route. I only reveal this because I was really torn about which title to use. Obviously, South Park beats logic and sarcasm, every time. And for good reason, at least in this case.

Listening to Eric Cartman is especially instructive when trying to pick up the pieces after a traumatic video like the one above. Many people are asking themselves, why would Prince Harry SAY such a thing? Because water is wet? Trolls like to upset people? It’s just the way things are?

Or…is there something…more sinister…behind that pale skin and insolent mouth?

In a class presentation, Cartman argues that “Gingers” - people with red hair, freckles, and pale skin - are disgusting and are inherently evil, have no souls, and are unable to walk around during the day because of this...
 
 
The knives come out for Gupta

Aasif Mandvi wasn’t the only person to allude to the fact that Sanjay Gupta’s coming nomination makes life harder for all of us non- attractive neurosurgeon journalists. Sandip Roy, writing at New American Media, also tries to prepare us all for how hard it is going to be for us regular desis to play keep up with the Guptas now:

…I fear it’s a mixed blessing for the rest of us much more run-of-the-mill South Asians. It’s exciting to see someone who comes from your stock make it big. But another neurosurgeon-makes-good story is going to make us look even more like underachievers.

“What’s the matter, beta? Why can’t you be more like that nice Sanjay Gupta? Not just a neurosurgeon but on CNN AND meeting Obama for three hours?”

Not only is he dashing and articulate. Not only did he do brain surgery on a 2 -year-old Iraqi boy while embedded during the Iraq war, now he might be the new Surgeon-general. Let me pause, and reel in the envy!

And his only qualm, according to the Washington Post is “is said to involve the financial impact on his pregnant wife and two children if he gives up his lucrative medical and journalistic careers.”

Golly. This is a South Asian parent’s dream. He’s 39 and he’s already followed the four stages of a good Hindu life - childhood, education, family and now a sort-of-renunciation-and-service… [Link]

I completely agree with Roy’s analysis. This is the reason I have been pretty bummed ever since the Gupta nomination even though I agree he is a good pick. In fact, there has been a sort of let down ever since Obama got elected. He promised that we could all “Be the change.” How can that be true though when 300,000 people submitted resumes for ~7000 “change” jobs? Its like musical chairs and I, like may of you, am left without a seat. I’m the wrong kind of doctor, just a blogger and not a journalist, and I’m not quite so…model-like. I can’t even complain that he had access to a better education at an elitist school since we went to the same school. In short, I’m rapidly turning into a bitter hater, much like conservative pundit Stephen Colbert who basically implies in the clip below that Gupta isn’t qualified since he is a “dick eater”:

 
 
Too sexy for this job?

News that Sanjay Gupta has been offered the position of Surgeon General has produced the classic trifecta of Golidlocks responses: Is he too sexy for the job, not sexy enough, or does he have the right amount of smouldering sex appeal to keep pace with Obama, Biden, Daschle and Hillary Clinton?

Too sexy for this job:

My friend Dr. B objects to the idea that SG could be the SG, saying that he lacks the gravitas for the job, and that she would have preferred a more established, less erotically charged nominee in the C. Everett Koop mold.

For those of you too young to remember, despite Koop’s mad pediatric surgical skillz, he was as attractive as Bill Gates on a bad hair day. Nobody, no matter how intense their uniform fetish, ever had an erotic dream about Dr. Koop or Joycelen Elders, and Dr. B thinks that precedent should be maintained.

Similarly, when Dr. Amonymous asks for SG’s policy qualifications, pointing out that “The Surgeon General functions under the direction of the Assistant Secretary for Health and operationally heads the 6,000-member Commissioned Corps of the USPHS, a cadre of health professionals who are on call 24 hours a day, and can be dispatched by the Secretary of HHS or the Assistant Secretary for Health in the event of a public health emergency.” [wiki], it’s clear that what he’s really saying is … “how can I take him seriously when he’s so pretty?”

(Manish has a variant of this argument, claiming not that Gupta is too sexy for the job, but that the job isn’t sexy enough for him, calling it a step down from his current position to one that pays less and has less influence.)

They do have a point since “Gupta was named one of the Sexiest Men of 2003 by People magazine.” [wiki] It’s hard to see what more objective measure of sexiness there might be.

Not sexy enough for this job:

There are those, however, who reject People Magazine’s imprimature as if it were some illegible doctor’s scrawl on a prescription pad, arguing brazenly that Dr. Gupta doesn’t have the intellectual honesty sex appeal necessary for the position.

 
 
In 2009, I Resolve to be More Mutinous.

banana republic ad.jpg I thought it would be cute and fun to do a “resolutions” post on December 31st, but I wasn’t sure how to approach it. After all, just asking you what you plan on not accomplishing in the new year seemed rather bleh. So, imagine my glee when I discovered a frothy fashion article about this exact subject with no less than 1.5 brown connections to exploit! Problem solved.

Via Vogue.com:

We asked some of our favorite women what they hope to do (or do a little bit better)—from family to food and fashion—in 2009.

I’ve only quoted about half of the resolvers here:

Vera Wang, designer “Work more and work out more.”
Venus Williams, tennis player “I think it’s time to give up leggings and add more prints to my closet in 2009. I also think it’s time for more accessories, but I want to avoid those big chunky pieces.”

While she is a tennis player, Venus isn’t our “0.5” connection. ;)

Chanel Iman, model “Step back into my closet and re-create the things I haven’t worn in a while and do wardrobe swaps with my friends. After the swap, you can go shopping for that one item that will make the trade pop. It’s kind of a green way to go.”
Sophie Buhai, designer, Vena Cava “Monochromatic fashion that feels elegant (but is almost boring) paired with an eccentric large metal necklace is what I am wanting to wear. As far as giving things up, I’d say it’s time to give up flashy designer bags. The new year and a new economy are all about buying vintage Ferragamo and Bottega on eBay.”
Coco Rocha, model “Wear more jackets. This is the time to bundle up, and a girl cannot have too many coats because it is what you are seen most in during the winter season.”
Marina Rust, contributing editor, Vogue “I know if I squeeze a lemon into a cup of hot water and honey every morning I will actually feel and look better. Maybe this year I will remember to do it.”
Tory Burch, designer “Keep things in perspective and not sweat the small stuff. I always try to focus on the big picture and remember if my family is happy and healthy, nothing is worth getting too stressed about.”
Chiara Clemente, filmmaker “Eat at home as much as I can. Maybe it’s because I am Italian, but you have to start with the basics. And that’s food.”
 
 
Education like such as, uh, South Africa and, uh, the Iraq

Since I’ve had beauty pageant winners on the brain, I thought I’d share this video with the five of you who haven’t seen and rolled your eyes at it yet. I mean, that’s what I did once I realized what she meant by “condone” (way to kinda fake us out on the News Tab, oh person with unintelligible TypeKey handle).

Natasha Paracha is Miss Pakistan World 2008. She’s an alumna of U.C. Berkeley (go bears!), where she majored in Poli-Sci and started an association for Pakistani students. When she’s not confusing important words which commence with the letter “C” ;), she’s thinking about current events, about which she had the following to share:

The recent tragedy in Mumbai was the work of misguided individuals who do not represent a specific religion, creed or nationality…The fact these young men may have links to Pakistan is in no way indicative of the culture and caliber of people that represent Pakistan. It is my hope the world views this tragedy with those thoughts in mind as we all mourn for the victims and their families. [link]

More:

The tragedy in Mumbai has left us all in shock. It is difficult to understand that such violent acts are taking place in metropolitan regions. First, the attacks that were carried out at Marriott in Islamabad and now this…I have family and friends that live close to the Taj and Oberoi and my heart goes out to all those innocent people involved. [link]

All right, now which one of you (or ten of you) went to Cal with her and have stories about that one time she got her belly pierced at Zebra on a dare, and it, like, totally got infected? Oh, snap…that was me. Carry on, bear cubs and mutineers…

 
 
Fear of a blue turban?

Recently, I saw the image above, taken from a screenshot of the webpage of a Los Angeles talk radio station [via sullivan]. The show it mentions is the “top rated morning program in the Los Angeles market, with over 1 million listeners.”[wiki] I was struck by the blue turban which, it turns out, the wingnuts think is part of Nostradamus’ prediction about Antichrist III:

Out of the country of Greater Arabia Shall be born a strong master of Mohammed, He will enter Europe wearing a blue turban. He will be the terror of mankind. Never more horror. [freep!]

Now if they think that Hawaii is part of Greater Arabia, I’m worried what they’ll think when they see a photo of the Indian Prime Minister! Or worse, one of Sikh peacekeepers, since we know how they feel about the UN … (images below the fold)

I’m tempted to gather together a whole bunch of friends to stand outside a wingnut gathering, all of us wearing blue turbans, staring at people as they enter and exit. It would be worth it for a laugh, that is, if they didn’t call the FBI and accuse us of suspicious behavior. One step at a time, I guess. Maybe I should start with that cool forehead tattoo instead …

 
 
Sums up my feelings quite well

I haven’t had time to blog, and what I’ve wanted most to blog about were the tragic events in Bombay that cast a pall over Thanksgiving. I have family there, as do many of you, and so I was glued to the internet, watching as events unfolded.

I’ve since stepped back and have been mulling things over. I’ve got a lot to say, but what I want to say first, before I get nuanced, is pretty much this [via Manish]:

This is the reason why Stewart is brilliant - that was both hillarious and very good political commentary. I know that’s neither the beginning nor the end of the topic, but it’s something I have to get out of my system before I can go further.

That said, again I’m not going to open comments on this post. I have a great deal of anger about what the terrorists did, and about how those responsible for training them may have brought us one step closer to a nasty war, but that doesn’t mean that I want this site to become a cesspool of ugly comments about Pakistanis.

 
 
 
Elizabeth Hassel-blech: Idiot or Racist? You decide!

Reader “Cola” emailed our tip line about a Cele|bitchy blog post regarding The View’s most annoying co-host and the incomprehensible insults she hurls. Watch and enjoy, Mutineers:

But is she being racist? Or just a sputtering, inarticulate twit? I vote for the latter, but Defamer disagrees:

Though Elisabeth Hasselbeck has offended many during her tenure on The View, she’s never quite had what could be called, in the show parlance, a “Ching Chong” moment. So named for Rosie O’Donnell’s Asian language impression in which she shrieked, “Ching Chong Ching Chong!” and stopped just shy of declaring, “That was me, Rosie, playing an Oriental!” the gaffe is the type that incurs the wrath of an entire race, and Hasselbeck may have had her own in this morning’s episode.
While attempting to reference Deepak Chopra’s recent remarks on the Mumbai massacre (he implied the terrorists had an eye on America), a frustrated Hasselbeck first called him “Glitter Glasses Whatshisface,” and then, dismissing his comments as beneath her recognition, muttered, “Go light a bowl of incense.” Why stop there, Elisabeth? Tell those minorities how you really feel using the most stereotype-laden kiss-offs you can muster! If your stylist tries to dress you in another pirate shirt? “Oh, go take your AIDS pills!” Joy Behar got you down? Just say, “Whatsa matta, you-a? Something land in your spaghetti? Oh, what-a spicy meatball!” It’s fun, easy, and guaranteed to get the letters pouring in! [whats-his-link]

These are the remarks which got her knickers in a twist. In my opinion, she’s referring to Chopra’s new-age/self-helpy connections, zimbly because I think she’s too stupid to realize that agarbathi is Desi. I don’t know about all those letters pouring in there, Defamer. Thanks for the love, though!

Finally, “Glitter Glasses Whatshisface”? But…but…why? It doesn’t even make sense, not that Hasselbeck is known for doing so. Thoughts? :)

 
 
The Rage of Cummings II: Economic Boogaloo*

At times, it must be done. It simply must.

What is “it”? Honest reflection. Meditation. The potentially uncomfortable exercise of asking difficult questions…questions like…”Is Neel Kashkari a CHUMP?

Elijah Cummings, breakin’ it down Bodymore-style. A friend of mine whom I had forwarded that clip to told me that Cummings is a genuinely nice guy, which makes it all the more hilarious for him to be the one questioning our boy Neel. Find a previous SM post about the sacrificial lamb Kashkari by our Vinod, here.

(Hmm. I thought the name of the author of that ThinkProgress piece sounded familiar…then I realized it was erstwhile WLPer/reader Satyam, whom I was introduced to by mutineer Harin at the Kal Penn event held in support of our President-elect. :) I love how accomplished and brainy you smurfs mutineers are.)

 
 
Easing Tension Through Music

The other day I was looking on YouTube for the famous version of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” from the old Bollywood film, Purab aur Paschim, to amuse my kid. Instead, I found this:

It’s not just done for comedy, I think (though it is clearly meant to be funny for a South Indian TV audience). Actually, having the same English words applied to the different classical Indian musical styles is an instructive way of seeing the differences in the styles.

(Incidentally, what are the first two styles she uses?)

 
 
 
Posh as Indian Bride Barbie? That's Major!

posh for vogue india.jpg Well not Indian Bride Barbie so much as their November cover girl, but that’s totes what she reminds ME of (thanks, cookiemonsta):

Former Spice Girl Victoria Beckham graces the cover of Vogue India’s November issue, trading in her western outfits for a traditional Indian bridal sari.
“Posh” Beckham, the wife of British footballer David Beckham, chose several bridal outfits by Indian designers for the photo shoot, the magazine said in a statement. [linky]

She was also not overheard saying, “Can we hike these up a bit? I need people to see that I have replaced my seven-inch Loubys with swaggers. Aren’t they MAJOR?

“I have long been an avid admirer of the Indian fashion and lifestyle culture,” Beckham, 34, was quoted as saying. [linky]

She then stared dreamily off in to space for a second while fondly remembering that one time, with that proto-chav who made it rain with rupees at Glassy Junction. Ah, good times.

The magazine’s fashion director said Beckham was thrilled to experiment with Indian bridal wear.
“She absolutely loved everything about it — from the ‘maang tikka’ and ‘haath zeb’ (traditional Indian jewellery) to the gorgeous lehengas (traditional Indian skirt with embroidery),” said Anahita Shroff Adajania. [linky]

What fool wouldn’t? Indian brides get to wear the most gorgeous clothes in the world. I love Reem Acra but even her most show-stopping gowns fade away in the presence of Priya and Chintan’s most basic lehenga.

The cover is after the jump.

 
 
“...on the internet I can be just as tall as you.”

Australian-based Boymongoose is back with another video gem from their 2006 album Christmas in Asia Minor. You may remember the 12 Days of Christmas song we posted back then. Here is the video to Single Girls set to the music of Jingle Bells. Make sure to play this at your desi Holiday party. It will definitely be spinning here at our North Dakota headquarters come December.

 
 
Xenophobia Judo (updated)

Last week the Sacramento County GOP, which is the local party for the state capital of the most populous state in the union, had image below on their the official website!

If you had any doubt that the GOP was promoting the message “Obama = Arab = Muslim = Terrorist!” this should put your doubts to rest. (To their credit, the state level party quickly had the material removed but that doesn’t undercut the broader campaign.)

One minor personal consequence of this tactic is that I am unable to go canvassing door-to-door in battleground states for either campaign. Can you imagine the reception I would encounter knocking on doors for the Obama campaign in West Virginia? Or how about ringing doorbells for McCain in Missouri?

Sure, I might be able to overcome the xenophobia and fear of certain voters, but that would make the exercise more about me than the candidate, with each minute spent explaining who I am taken away from time avalable to make the case for a particular campaign. No, that would be immensely selfish on my part.

Unfortunately, this leaves me with only one option if I want to participate in face-to-face persuasion of voters. I could pretend to be working for the opposition.

 
 
NYT Vows, Special Desi Unit. Episode 420, "Matrimonials Hijinks"

nyt siddharth wedding elephant.JPG
Sometimes the Desi couples in the New York Times “Vows” pages make one cringe. But the latest entrants in the reality show known as “I am so stylin’, I invited the damn New York Times to observe my wedding!” actually seem pretty cool. For one thing, they seem pretty normal, and Rahul Siddharth in particular seems to have a way with words:

“Unlike in Bollywood movies,” Mr. Siddharth said, “we fight. We are totally opposite, but she is mine.”

“New York can be a very cruel city,” he said. “There are days when it can eat you up and spit you out. Sapna is my private escape. I always love to come home to her knowing that she brings peace to my chaos.” (link)

(Unless I am mistaken, this is where some readers might swoon a little. Others may find it all too cheesy. To each, her own.)

The part I personally liked the best had to do with the way they met, twice, online:

Dr. Chaudhary, a specialist in family medicine in New York, had posted her profile online at an Indian introductions site. She first heard from Mr. Siddharth, an advertising executive and stand-up comedian, in June 2005, in a response that was impressively lively. But after she replied, he seemed to vanish. That is, until September, when Mr. Siddharth’s second e-mail message, nearly identical to the first, landed.

To that one, she replied: “Maybe you should try and keep better track — or maybe you were just so overwhelmed by my beauty that you had some short term memory loss.” (link)

Let’s get this straight. Guy sees picture of a lady on Shaadi.com and thinks, “Me likee.” He shoots off his generic self-introduction, which in this case is pretty good, because homeboy has, as we’ve already established, the gift of gab. She replies encouragingly, but now (presumably) he’s already preoccupied emailing someone else, and as a result he blows her off. The other thing doesn’t pan out, and three months later he sees the first profile again without realizing it (her new pictures are “sexier”), and shoots off the same generic self-introduction, albeit a little puzzled that Gmail already seemed to know her email address.

And three years later, they’re getting married in style (seriously, check out those pictures), and bragging about it in the Times.

One quick side note — I like that the Times reporter describes the site through which they met as an “Introductions” website, not a “Matrimonials” site. It seems to me that “Introductions” is a better fit than “Matrimonials,” a descriptor that would require an obligatory reference to the “exotic” Indian practice known as “Arranged Marriage” ™.)

Anyone else have interesting Matrimonials/Introductions website correspondence snafus?

 
 
 
"Sikh Stand-up Comic" in Newsweek

narinder singh gotham.jpg
After my post last week on Hari Kondabolu’s “Manoj,” it seems fitting to discuss an actual stand-up comic who walks the delicate line between what we might call “self-deprecating good fun” and outright self-hatred, Narinder Singh (thanks, Colleen). Narinder Singh has three YouTube videos up: here, here, and here (as “Sikh Stand-up Comic”). I don’t love the videos — seems like he’s trying too hard — though admittedly the sound quality on them makes it hard to understand what he’s saying at times.

But Narinder’s “My Turn” essay in this week’s Newsweek is much more to my taste. The key section for me was this:

“A lot of people ask me why I wear a turban,” goes one of my jokes. “I tell them it’s because it contracepts my vices. But you know what, turbans are great contraceptives … I haven’t had sex in five years!”

I became more ambitious. I now wanted to show the entire audience that Indians, Muslims or brown people in general were affable and moderate. Because I received my first couple of threats from Sikhs, I had to convince myself that my fellow Sikhs were in fact also moderate. But it felt strangely exciting reading the verbal barbs posted on my first YouTube clip: I was having an impact.

I e-mailed some of the overzealous Sikhs and told them that I was making fun of prejudice against those who wear turbans, not the turban itself, which seemed even more sacred now. After 9/11, many Sikhs had cut their hair and stopped wearing turbans. The menacing looks and discrimination were too much. Our visible identity in numbers was dwindling in both America and India. Bollywood films had reduced Sikhs to fools and caricatures. In America we were being taken too seriously; in India, not enough. It sometimes made me feel compelled to conform and fit in, too. (link)

Seeing Narinder Singh say this makes me appreciate his approach to comedy more, in spirit if not in the actual performances I’ve seen. For one thing, though the reasons were different I too received my share of hate mail around the time I was first blogging at SM, (including an outright threat, from a fellow Sikh). I sympathize partly because I think the temptation is strong to “make an impact” and get attention with edgy statements — every writer, blogger, or comedian just starting out knows this — even if it offends some people and loses you some friends.

Still, I’m not sure he’s quite there yet in his actual comedy routine. What do people think?

To end on a positive note, Narinder Singh’s final quip might well be the funniest line he’s written:

Still, I completely understood my fellow Sikhs’ sensitivity and their fear of being marginalized further. I really didn’t mind the death threats and the heckling, as long as I continued not having sex.
 
 
 
Aasif Is Brown Like Us

Shruti’s facebook status earlier this week said that she was “certain that Aasif Mandvi is a regular reader of Sepia Mutiny and Ultrabrown.” I asked her what she meant, and she referred me to the following:

I know he never says that he got his references from the Mutiny, but I’m pretty sure we blogged about ‘What Brown Can Do For You’ and we definitely blogged the dancing little man video. And come on, you have to type in ‘brown’ before you can comment on the sites! He MUST have been talking bout us. The Mutiny has ‘brown’ literally trademarked!

I got the privilege of meeting Asif earlier this year (at a brown conference) and I know he’s a visitor to this site, so Shruti may just be right … How bout it, Aasif? Give the Mutiny a shout out on the Daily Show next time!

 
 
 
If you're male, you may not want to read this...

…lest you wish to spend the rest of the day with your legs tightly crossed, doubled-over with sympathy pain and terror (thanks, JTMoney!). Via our news tab: Kir Royale the betta.jpg

A 2cm long fish apparently found it’s (sic) way into the penis of a 14-year-old boy from India in a bizarre medical case.
The patient was admitted to hospital with complaints of pain, dribbling urine and acute urinary retention spanning a 24-hour period. According to the boy, the fish slipped into his penis while he was cleaning his aquarium at home.

Uh…I’ve either had or been around home aquariums since I was a toddler. I have never had a fish slip anywhere, while I was cleaning anything. Hell, I haven’t even had one of these bizarre pedicures.

Professor Vezhaventhan and Professor Jeyaraman, who treated the boy and later wrote a paper on the case, explained: “While he was cleaning the fish tank in his house, he was holding a fish in his hand and went to the toilet for passing urine. When he was passing urine, the fish slipped from his hand and entered his urethra and then he developed all these symptoms.”

Okay, mens. Here’s the part which will have you wincing:

After detecting the fish in the boy’s bladder, Vezhaventhan and Jeyaraman used a technique known as cystourethroscopy to insert a special set of forceps down the patient’s penis. Unfortunately, the fish was just too slippery to grip, so they resorted to using a rigid ureteroscope with a tool attached that is normally used for removing bladder stones.

Yeesh, even I am crossing my legs at this point. One of the most awesome aspects of being female is knowing what a speculum is, whether one is involved with medicine or not, and by awesome, I mean “atrocious”. Owww.

The fish the urologists removed, which Practical Fishkeeping believes to be a small member of the Betta genus, measured 2cm long and 1.5cm wide.

By the way, bettas aren’t just “Siamese Fighting Fish”, even though many people refer to the latter (a.k.a. Betta Splendens) by just its genus name. For those who may be wondering about it, the image enhancing this post is a picture of my dearly departed “Kir Royale”, a betta splendens who traveled to that great pond in the sky, earlier this year.

He was later admitted into counseling to help him overcome any trauma.

Speaking of trauma, aren’t you glad I didn’t play the caption game, with this one? ;)

 
 
Life is Stranger Than Fiction.

Twice a week, a very kind gentleman comes by with a nifty vacuum cleaner strapped to his back, to spruce up the floors. I say nifty because it looks more like a jet-pack or something a lot more fun than a mere appliance. Anyway, when he strolls in with his trademark, “Hell-oooooo!”, I know it is time to stand up and get out of his way. I usually just move to the other side of my desk and prepare myself for a minute or two of nothingness, but apparently, today will be…something. I hear a familiar voice, but I can’t make out the words above the din of the machine.

I turn around to see who is speaking to me. It is the one Pakistani man I work with, an uber-sweet coworker who likes to make halwa to bring to work, which he then guilts me in to eating—not the first portion, mind you; that goes to our other, “grown-up” coworkers. Oh, no—he comes by towards the end of mithai-madness and always authoritatively says, as he spoons at least three servings on to a paper plate he has helpfully brought with him, “I make you halwa. Eat.”

When I protest meekly, saying, “It’s too much!”, because I don’t want to waste food, he gives me the exact same look I get at home, from my Mom at the end of dinner.

“It’s so little. Why you make me put back in dish? If dish is empty, I can wash. Finish it. Be helpful. So I can wash. I not have all day.”

So, much in the same endearing, parental way he force-feeds me food which my tummy has no room for, he often comes by to “check on” me, the youngest brown member of the team (nine desis work here, total). To see, as he inimitably pronounces it, “how you arrrr DEW-wing!” When I moved away from my desk to facilitate vacuuming, he saw an opportunity and approached.

“Hallo En-ah!”

“Hi…Mm-…hi” I stammered, just barely resisting the urge to call him Uncle. I can’t bring myself to call him by his first name, which is Mohammad, so I just…well, call him nothing. Who cares if it’s a work environment? The man guilts and keeps tabs on me. Being on a first-name basis ain’t happenin’.

“How is your Mum? She in Kelly-for-nya? Or she visit home, maybe?”

I have always loved that: home. My heart immediately softens. No matter how many decades my late father lived in this country (three, if we’re counting), despite the American flag planted dramatically in our front yard, when he wasn’t communicating mindfully, he always said that about Kerala, too. Home.

“No, she is in California. She is well, thank you for asking.”

 
 
A final set of political tees

Here are the final batch of political t-shirts that Manish and I have created (in case you are looking to sport something subversive with just about 50 days to go before we have a new president). First up is “Hare Bama” (which you may recognize):

The next t-shirt tries to help clear up confusion:

 
 
My PUMA is flummoxed by Palin.

“MA!”

“WHAT!”

Did you hear??

“What? McCain?”

“YES! Aw, Man! It’s only 8 or so in California…I thought I’d get to tell you.”

“No. I am listening to the NPR. Family Radio has become annoying. That man thinks the world will end in three years.”

“SO???”

“So what?”

“What do YOU think? You were so curious about whom he’d pick…”

“I was really disappointed when I heard it…my heart just went down to the floor. What’s wrong with this old man, has he lost his brain or something? She is a young girl. No experience. She is Governor of state with 8000 population for only two years. What’s she know?”

“I think…Alaska has more people than—“

“Who cares! Don’t interrupt! Point is, I can manage things better than she can. This is guaranteed losing ticket.”

“You wanted Joe Lieberman, didn’t you?”

“I did!”

“And why is that, Mummy?”

“Because he is a Democrat. Was. I mean, he is independent. Also, he was so nice to you, when you met with him and his wife.”

“Awesome reasoning, Ma. Anyway, if not Sarah, then whom?”

“I would rather he gone for that…kid…the Indian…the governor…”

 
 
Seeing things that just aren’t there

Look, I’m just about as big a Michael Phelps fan as there is out there. No disrespect here. My boy is even a fellow Wolverine. However, when I saw the new cover of Sports Illustrated I thought it was a woman until I panned up to the face. I swear, with all those medals (8) it looks like he is wearing a top similar to something you’d see at an Indian wedding (picture on left). Am I going totally crazy? Am I the only one that now has this unusual image of Phelps etched into my psyche?

Truly sorry if this traumatizes anyone.

 
 
NASA and the missing Indian children

When I saw this headline on Monday I couldn’t help but laugh a little: Four [Indian] Kids on NASA Trip Go Missing. I mean, I know NASA is occasionally accused by some crackpot (even well-respected crackpots) of covering up info about aliens, but the idea of foreign kids going missing on a NASA field trip is a whole new kind of conspiracy (wrong kind of aliens). Here is how things unfolded:

The authorities of a private school here have lodged a police complaint that two of its students, who went on an educational trip to the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) at its US headquarters, have gone “missing.”

The two students, Paramjit Singh and Kunal Bhandari, went as part of a 13-member delegation of the Dayanand Model School on July 22. While the other members returned, these two students did not come back. [Link]

Then there was this:

Four students from a school in Parowal village who went on a trip to the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) have gone missing in the US. One of the teachers accompanying them has also not returned as she reportedly got married.

Eighteen students of the CBSE-affiliated Doaba Public Senior Secondary School went to NASA for a project. While 14 returned, Arshdeep, Sumit Sahni, Dalbir Singh and Baljinder Singh have not come back. The four are aged between 14 and 15 years.

“Teacher Meenu Sharma sent an e-mail to the school authorities, requesting them to extend her leave by a month as she got married,” a source said. [Link]

 
 
Kal Penn Hearts Obama

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Yesterday, I attended the ASIAN AMERICANS FOR OBAMA EVENT WITH ACTOR KAL PENN, in Macacaville, VA. No, I’m not shouting at you, I’m just too lazy to reformat what I copied from the press release that uber-Dem Toby Chaudhuri was kind enough to send me. ;) Like all good desi events, it didn’t start on time, which was highly awesome for those of us who were fighting our way from DC to Farlington during rush hour, in the hopes of seeing the biggest brown actor of them all stump for Obama.

So many references were made to a certain set of movies with which you are all familiar, that I have resolved to not mention them once (not! once!) in this post; instead, I’m going to give you the highlights of what Kal Penn said, about his favorite contender for the potentially-soon-to-be-not-White House.

Penn got personal, as he speeched at us with tales of his grandfather’s involvement in the struggle for India’s freedom and a more recent influential event in his life— a phone call he received from a good friend, from Texas, asking for advice.* This friend was struggling to finance his education, and he had been offered a job with Satan with Haliburton, driving trucks through Iraq for $90,000 a year. It was a tempting, and obviously perilous offer for someone making minimum wage. Penn was deeply affected by the awful situation his friend was in and that’s one of the reasons why he’s taking the time to get involved and motivate people across the country to support Obama; he sincerely believes his man has a plan.

The actor, who is currently starring in one of MY favorite shows, “House”, commenced his entertaining remarks with “Happy Macaca day!”. Indeed, it was the second anniversary of the infamous event which transformed our community in to some monkeys with which to reckon.

The one-hundred plus people in attendance seemed to enjoy his message…and the event itself, which was lively, upbeat and well-stocked with delicious food. Seriously. While I can’t personally vouch for the chicken—which my friend had fourths of— I CAN say that after Penn was hustled in to a waiting (yet fuel-efficient) SUV, I devoured the best samosas I’ve EVER had. Toby and Ruby…who was your caterer??

 
 
Highs and lows at the Olympics (updated)

Watching the Olympics this past weekend has been equal parts exhilarating and depressing. Seeing the American men win the 4 x 100 m swimming relay last night was un-freaking-real! But it also sent me in to full, early mid-life crisis mode. Am I the only one? I kept thinking how I’m now too old and beat-up to be an Olympian and I was feeling kind of jealous of fellow Wolverine Michael Phelps (would my upper body look like that if I growled in victory poolside?). And then this morning my depression lifted some. Even though I woke to the upsetting news that American Badminton stud Raju Rai had lost to a Finn (read here to understand how hard the environment is), I was quickly informed that Abhinav Bindra of India won the Gold in the 10m Air Rifle! It was Bindra that turned out to be the great brown hope.

So how did Abhinav help me to avert my midlife crisis until another day? Just look at our boy. He looks like and ordinary IT guy or an engineer or friendly grad student. He is now a national hero. A Peter Parker of sorts. He is the great common brown guy hope! Not all of us can have Phelps upper body, but some of us can imagine looking like this (I like paintballing for instance ).

From a virtual non-entity to the country’s hottest property overnight, Abhinav Bindra has struck gold. Not just in Olympics. The Chandigarh shooter who picked up India’s first ever individual gold in Olympics is expected to see his brand value shooting up to a couple of crores, riding not only on his historic feat but also his youthful personality. [Link]

Oh, lighten-up you nationalists! I’m just joking around. A hearty congrats to Abhinav! The dude even has over a 1000 comments on his latest blog entry. A feat unmatched by even…me. Well at least I can go after that record.

And for every hero of the day there is the sad story of the day. Poor Sania. Pulled out because her wrist was hurting. That’s what cortisone injections are for woman!

Raj Bhavsar lives on!!!

Update: Raj sports the bronze. Awesome.

 
 
Cocks of Fury

Early in high school I weighed about 105 lbs soaking wet. I know, laugh if you want to. I am descended from two bean poles so I was at a genetic disadvantage. This was, after all, long before my collegiate boxing, my climbing adventures, and before I started appearing shirtless in “Boys of Blogging” calenders (ahem…cough cough). So just how does a 105 lb boy make his way in the brutal world that is high school? By laying low, very low. Most people don’t notice a scrawny little kid in high school (as many of our readers might sympathize with). I was also very very very shy.

I hung out with the nerd/geek crowd at the first of the two high schools I attended. It wasn’t much fun as nothing exciting ever happens in the nerd/geek crowd. One day however, my friends and I hatched a plan. The only way that we could raise our station in life was to be on a high school sports team. Even JV would do. This would be our ticket out. But what could I play? Basketball was definitely out. I was a fierce defender but way too short. Baseball? I could play infield but could barely hit the ball out of the infield. Football? Ha Ha Ha. I was pretty good at indoor hockey on the gym floor and rough enough that one kid even tried to fight me for high-sticking his friend until the PE teacher broke it up. However, there is no gym floor hockey team in high school. And then, like a ray of light the answer was revealed. My high school would be holding try-outs for the…Badminton Team.

I was pretty good at badminton and my odds were good because none of the cool kids (who were also the more athletic kids) would EVER be seen anywhere near a shuttlecock. My svelte body would dart back and forth pounding that birdie mercilessly. The fact that it looked like a tiny upside down Apollo capsule re-entering through Earth’s atmosphere was just a bonus (although I could’t say that out loud or even the geeks would make fun of me). The problem was that the competition was cut-throat. All the other geeks were gunning for the same few spots. Many of them were also Asian or South Asian since, for some strange reason, Asians have a fascination with racket sports. Every day I practiced and practiced, honing my skills while huffing like a young Boris Becker of Badminton. Then, the day before the try-outs I came down with a cold and was battling flu like symptoms all day. After watching television while slumped in a couch I got up too quickly, got a massive head rush, passed out, cut my head open on my metal bed frame as I fell, bled all over the place, and had to get stitches in the ER. The doctor ordered me to miss tryouts the next day. I didn’t make the team. This was the single most scarring failure of my life. And that brings me to the point of this thus far depressing post: American Olympian Raju Rai. Geek has been replaced with chic.

 
 
The power of email squatters

The recent issue of The New Yorker had a cute story, that I can totally relate to, about one particular G-Mail address account created four years ago:

On July 27, 2004, a friend invited Guru Raj to create a Google e-mail account. A recent graduate of the University of Virginia, Raj, then twenty-one, was watching the Democratic National Convention on a television in his parents’ basement, in Norcross, Georgia. The beta version of Gmail—available by invitation only—was less than four months old at the time, and largely unproved, but Raj’s U.V.A. e-mail account was set to expire in a few weeks, so he decided to give Gmail a try.

At first, Raj tried to create an address using his own name, but, remarkably, both gururaj @ gmail.com and rajguru @ gmail.com were already taken. So he tried the name of the young senator from Illinois who was giving the Democratic keynote address on TV. To his surprise, it worked, and, moments later, barackobama@gmail.com was quietly born. “I’m not some cute little Indian boy who grew up in America with political aspirations,” Raj, the first in his family to be born an American citizen, said recently. “I just thought it would be kind of funny to create an e-mail address based on a random senator whose name no one could spell…”

Over the next four years, as Gmail became the third most popular Webmail provider in the U.S. and Obama became a serious contender for the next President of the United States, Raj used the account for his personal e-mail. In the fall of 2006, he received, for the first time, a message intended for the Senator. By February, 2007, when Obama formally announced his candidacy, Raj was daily receiving dozens of misdirected notes from all over the world.[Link]

I found this anecdote rather funny because on my (now-defunct) personal blog I wrote of encountering the same problem. Back when G-Mail first came out I snapped up three addresses. Two of them were quite obscure but the third one was the equivalent of “smith @ gmail.com.” Needless to say, over the years I have received all kinds of random emails from people who intended their message for someone(s) else. For example, I get at least two marriage-related biodata emails (complete with pictures) each week. I also get lots of people following up on a job interviews or medical results. A lot of these emails come from India. I am always faced with a choice: do I help destiny along by informing the sender of the error or by remaining silent? I randomly go either way (I know, this is probably evil and megalomaniacal).

Raj, who now works for a software consulting company in Washington, D.C., never replied to these, or to any other e-mails meant for Obama, not even to tell an excited would-be pen pal that he is not, in fact, the Democrats’ presumptive Presidential nominee. “It just became an interesting portal into Americana,” he said. “From the beginning, I had no intention of manipulating anyone.” .[Link]

Yes! See, Raj gets it. Its just like being the postal worker whose job it is to open all the mail addressed to Santa Claus. Nobody expects him to fulfill the expectations of every letter (or even a few letters), but at least someone can bear witness (even if they are biodata packages).

 
 
You call THAT an Indian accent?

Mindy Kaling, who writes for and acts on the NBC show The Office, recently revealed to David Letterman a secret that many Indian Americans guard very closely. Not all of us are good at imitating an Indian accent just because our parents are Indian [via Defamer]:

That’s right, we may not do Indian accents well…but no other ethnic group should be able to point that out without an indignant tongue-lashing back

If you want to skip the rest of the interview then start at 1:30 min mark. I can really sympathize with Mindy. When I try to do an Indian accent I sound slightly Scottish. Its just sad.

 
 
Indifferent? Or...uh...mellow?

pretty padma looks like my cousin here.jpgI get an email from Salon daily; with over 2,690 pieces of unread mail* in my beleaguered GMail account, I’m likely to open these newsletter-y missives approximately twice a week. Those two instances hardly ever coincide with Sunday’s “I like to watch”-edition, but I was feeling peevish while waiting for the laaaast loooooad of laundry to dry at 2:30 am, so I thought, “why not peek…it might mention my beloved ‘Mad Men’, which was the best show ever until season two started and kind of weirded me out, man.”

Right.

So I’m skimming “Critics’ Picks”, and I see no shout-outs to AMC’s finest, but my finely-honed browndar immediately zooms in on the following blurb, about Bravo’s tatti-est reality show:

Jaclyn Smith on “Shear Genius”
“Shear Genius” (Wednesdays at 10 p.m. EDT) may be the weakest of Bravo’s professional reality competitions — the contestants are almost uniformly uninteresting, and the hairstyles they create are almost uniformly ugly. Even so, its host, former “Charlie’s Angels” star Jaclyn Smith, stands out as a kinder, gentler alternative to Bravo spokesmodels Heidi Klum and Padma Lakshmi. For some crazy reason, Smith has great wells of compassion for these bad people with their bad hairstyles. When she informs a hairstylist that it’s his or her “final cut” at the end of each episode, Smith’s eyes invariably well up with tears and her voice wavers as she carefully chooses a few comforting words as a send-off. Forget Klum’s curt “auf Wiedersehen” and Lakshmi’s indifferent “Pack your knives and go” — Smith’s tearful goodbyes seem to remind us, “What could be more human than empathizing with the untalented?” — Heather Havrilesky

Whoaaaa, there HH. I know that all girls are supposed to lose their minds over Charlie’s Angels (the inspiration for a million mediocre facebook pictures) and Grease (I will never understand the obsession with that film or its annoying-as-soulja boy-soundtrack), but are we giving the gorgeous Jaclyn a bit too much credit? Let’s not so soon forget or forgive that unfortunate casual line she released years ago— there’s a reason why so many pairs of elastic-waist pants give “mom jeans” a run for fug and part of that responsibility lies with the otherwise glamorous Jaclyn Smith.

Anyway, there is nothing wrong with Heidi. If anything, far too much is right with that woman. She has squeezed three babies out of that ridiculous body and she has the cutest, most impish smile. As for pulchritudinous Padma, girl, she ain’t indifferent or cold…she’s HIGH. The Mutiny could’ve told you that, last year:

According to a source who worked on the set of Top Chef, the ex-model turned trophy wife turned hostess Padma Lakshmi allegedly enjoys smoking pot on set, giving a whole new meaning to the term “Quickfire Challenge” — see, cause she’s allegedly lighting up a joint instead of a stove! Anyway. Exactly how often this happened is disputed, though we were assured it was allegedly “fairly regularly…” [BWE]

That explains the sloooow, slightly slurred speech and her gracious, always-ready appetite to try potentially smack-nasty food— it also provides an explanation for why she doesn’t share Ms. Smith’s penchant for saltwater…she’s happy!

 
 
SM T-shirt contest: Making a Fashion Statement at the DNC

Folks, it is time to get excited about the fact that we will have greater South Asian participation than ever in this year’s Presidential election. Through this blog we also hope to provide a perspective from the floor of the Democratic National Convention in Denver next month that has been missing in previous years. This has been one of the long term goals of this blog after all. I will sniff out every conceivable brown angle I can find once I get there (especially if Huma is there). However, I would like to make this event as bi-directional as possible. I don’t want to show up there and simply write about what I want to write about. I want you all to send me ideas for what you’d like to learn. I’d like you guys to get me in touch with other South Asians you know will be there. I also want to know what you’d like me to communicate to the other bloggers and citizens I meet while I’m there.

In the spirit of that last point, and so we can have some fun with this, I am asking you guys to dress me. That’s right. You, the SM readers get to decide what I will wear on the convention floor next month. It is simple really: design a t-shirt that features a political or social (but non-partisan) message and I can order it using Café Press, Threadless, or one of many other internet t-shirt companies. Send me the design at abhi [at] sepiamutiny dot com. I will narrow it down to the best entries and have SM readers vote on the finalists. I will be at the convention for three full days so I will purchase up to three winning t-shirts to wear on the floor. The more clever/funny/relevant/socially conscious your t-shirt, the more likely it is to grab attention and communicate your message to all the varied citizens expected to be in Denver (the picture below is a perfect example of what I’m looking for). Let’s have some fun with this. My mom (retired from a major department store) has been dressing me all these years. It’s time for you guys to have a turn.

Just a clarification: I am looking for full t-shirt Designs, not merely slogans or catchphrases.

 
 
Satire, Done the Right Way

The Onion, on the India-Pakistan stand-off (thanks, Astonhope):

The joke is as much on the way Cable news channels report on “breaking events” — as if the world were about to end every time there is a traffic jam on the New Jersey Turnpike — as it is on the actual endless stalemate between India and Pakistan.

 
 
 
"Indian Nonsense"

I came across an anthology called The Tenth Rasa: An Anthology of Indian Nonsense, while browsing in a bookstore in suburban Philadelphia. The book is a collection of nonsensical poems and short stories from all over India, most of them translated into English. It’s one of those rare Penguin India titles that ended up getting distributed in the U.S. (An earlier book that I discovered in exactly the same way, was Samit Basu’s The Simoqin Prophecies. Also, I should point out that the editors of The Tenth Rasa have started a blog to promote the book.)

I’ll say a bit more about the idea behind the collection below, but what I have in mind for this post is a celebration of nonsense by example, not so much a thorough review (I’m also curious to know whether readers can remember their own South Asian nonsense rhymes, in any language. Anyone? Translations would be nice, but not required).

For now it might make sense to start with a couple of poems. First, the spirit of the collection is perhaps best captured by a favorite Sukumar Ray poem, “Abol Tabol,” (translated alternatively as “Gibberish” or “Gibberish Gibberish” to catch the reduplication), first published in Ray’s book of the same title in 1923:

Come happy fool whimsical cool
Come dreaming dancing fancy-free,
Come mad musician glad glusician
Beating your drum with glee.
Come O come where mad songs are sung
Without any meaning or tune,
Come to the place where without a trace
Your mind floats off like a loon.
Come scatterbrain up tidy lane
Wake, shake and rattle ‘n roll,
Come lawless creatures with willful features
Each unbound and clueless soul.
Nonsensical ways topsy-turvy gaze
Stay delirious all the time,
So come you travelers to the world of babblers
And the beat of impossible rhyme.
(Translated by Sampurna Chattarji from the Bengali)

(“Glusician” is not a typo, by the way; its utter unjustifiability is in some sense the point of the poem.)

Another of my favorites from the collection is an almost-limerick, originally written in Oriya by a writer named J.P. Das, and is called “Vain Cock”:

Taught to say ku-ku-du-koo, ku-ku-du-koo
He only said, ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’
Such a vain cock—
You’re in for a shock:
Not tandoori, you’ll only be stew.

(The joke here of course is that in many Indian languages a rooster’s cry is rendered along the lines of ‘ku-ku-du-koo’, and presumably in the Oriya version of “Vain Cock” the phrase “cock-a-doodle-doo” is rendered phonetically exactly as in English. The Vain cock, in short, is due for stew because of irremediable Anglophilic tendencies in his onomotopoeic ejaculation.)

 
 
Some Hin-dos and Hin-don'ts via The Colbear Report

In the following adorable clip, Stephen Colbert worries about Democratic nominee Bharath Obama being church-less and offers some divine guidance regarding salvation and religious affiliation; the segment is apparently the first of many in a series where Colbert thoughtfully helps Obama try on various faiths…I’m guessing Islam won’t be included. (Thanks for the tip, Maisnon and Kalyan!)

I share Maisnon’s skepticism about Auntie’s “no guilt!!”-claim, how about you? I also love the “spoiler” about how Manoj Nelliyattu Shyamalan will be paying his karmic debt. Finally, isn’t Colbert a little late with this fantastic suggestion? Bharath seems rather fond of Hinduism already.

 
 
M.I.A., like Jem, is truly outrageous!

Controversial crooner (and cover girl) Mathangi Arulpragasam got fugged not once, but twice over at the always-entertaining Go Fug Yourself (thank you thank you, mbawife). Behold her first fugtacular outfit below, and her second, after the jump (click to enlarge both to their full glory…srsly).

She's a brown Gem.jpg

The first thing I thought of when I saw this (as if you hadn’t already guessed from my title) was “Jem! And the Holograms!”, or Jerrica, more accurately. They don’t make cartoons like they used to, do they boys and girls? When we played “Jem”, I always wanted to be “Aja”, but I was often stuck playing “Kimber”. The four of you who know what the hell I’m talking about need not comment, I can feel your sympathy over the intarweb. I’m sensitive like that.

 
 
Fighting the name change

Real cute story on NPR this morning (part of the StoryCorps series) about a man named Ramon Sanchez who recalls how, during the 1950s while he was growing up, all the teachers tried to anglicize his name to Raymond. This got me thinking about all the poor Hardicks and Shitangs and Ashfaqs out there and the struggles they must have faced growing up. Even the Poojas probably had a tough time. Anyways, the punchline of the story is TOTALLY worth it so take a listen.

Since kindergarten he’d been known as Ramon. “Rrrrrramon,” he says with a thick roll of the R.

But when he got to the second grade, his name was Americanized. “Everyone was calling me Raymond.”

“On the playground, in the classroom. Raymond! Hey, Raymond! Hey, Raymond!” he says.

And it wasn’t just his name that got changed.

“If there was a girl named Maria, her name became Mary. Juanita became Jane,” he says. [Link]
 
 
Can you spell L-A-M-E?

SM Tipster Vishal informed us of something today that I just assumed was a bad joke until I visited the website. There is a new Spelling Beeexclusively for South Asian children:

About the South Asian Spelling Bee

The South Asian Spelling Bee is a platform that will give all South Asian students the opportunity to test their skills within their core peer group. In the 78th Nationals Scripps Spelling Bee, over 11% participants were South Asian and over the years many South Asian students have been champions. It is the effort of the South Asian Spelling Bee contest to encourage and promote South Asian talent across the US and to bring this aspect of a South Asian student’s life into the foreground by broadcasting this contest on National Television. [Link]

Are you kidding me? Is it not good enough that we already dominate the spelling world like the Kenyans do long distance running, or like Mr. T dominated Rocky in their first fight? Then again, that many geeky South Asian kids competing against each other is bound to provide an environment that engenders accelerated evolution (via hyper competition), resulting in the emergence of a super-speller. Its the same reason why you should always finish a course of antibiotics. If you don’t then the strongest bacteria will survive and multiply to create a superstrain. Speaking of multiply, desi parents can even use this venue to arrange child marriages like in the good old days. Mixing the right genetic lines would guarantee us victory in Scripps for years to come. Perhaps this new event has some merit after all.

 
 
 
W-I-N-N-E-R! Desi Kid Wins Spelling Bee, Again

13-year-old Sameer Mishra spelled “guerdon” correctly to win the 2008 Scripps National Spelling Bee. The word, rather wonderfully, means “something that one has earned or gained.” Champion!

splash.jpg

Sameer was a crowd favorite throughout the tournament. When told one of his words in the semifinals was a dessert, he deadpanned: “That sounds good right now.” He rolled his eyes and muttered “wonderful” when told that one of his words had five different language roots. He once asked “Are you sure there are no alternate pronunciations?” In another round, he uttered “That’s a relief” after initially mishearing the word “numnah” (a type of sheepskin pad).

And what did he have to say while hoisting the heavy trophy? “I’m really, really weak.” link

Seriously, this kid was a delight. The last desi to win was Anurag Kashyap in 2005. Only three years ago, but an eternity for a competition heavily loaded with over-achieving, heartbreaking desi kids.

As someone who can’t spell cat without spell-check, I never really paid attention to or understood the mesmerizing drama of spelling bees. Not until I recently saw the documentary Spellbound. Suddenly the years of study, weight of familial expectation, the children’s innocence and drive, the announcer’s voices, the rigid rules, the way personalities emerged in unexpected ways under crushing pressure…This was nail-biting, stomach-knotting suspense!! Hot damn!!

I caught a bit of the finals last night - this year seemed harder than ever before. After the jump, a list of the twelve finalists (five desis!) and the words faced by the last three standing in order of elimination.

 
 
The Termites Ate My Papers!!

Continuing my suddenly service-y news coverage this the week, I bring you the most fascinating case of corruption gone awry yet! Former Bangladeshi Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina is currently under trial, facing at least 10 counts of extortion and misuse of power. Legal proceedings just hit a snag when documents pertaining to a “barge-mounted power plant graft case” were found eaten by termites.

_44703972_termites_body_pa.jpg

According to her lawyers:

…many of the documents were now unreadable. The insect-eaten files were produced in court so that the matter could be officially recorded by the judge.

The defence say their case has been ruined. link

But wait! All is not so cut-and-dry (or, uh, chewed-and-digested):

The prosecution argued that only a tiny part of the cover page of the file was destroyed by termites.

They demanded to know whether the file had been damaged deliberately or because of negligence. link

Termites. Termites! Wow…think of how history might have changed if Monica had introduced a few boll weevils to that blue dress.

I wonder if I can get away with not paying rent this month… the mice ate my checkbook.

 
 
Is Weiner just a beard for Huma?

Hillary has Huma, Barack has Love,, and Huma’s love is Weiner, or at least that’s what the NY tabloids say:

Rep. Anthony Weiner, a likely 2009 mayoral candidate… finally ‘fessed that he is romancing Clinton’s glamorous “body woman,” Huma Abedin. Asked by The Associated Press about all the time he’s spending on the road campaigning for Clinton, the 43-year-old bachelor said, “It’s largely because I’m dating Huma…” [Link]

This story has actually been kicking around since January, when the rumors of a Hillary-Huma couple were stronger. Back then the Abedin-Weiner story was floated and then denied:

Speculation that Washington’s two most eligible singles—Hillary Rodham Clinton’s fashionable traveling aide Huma Abedin and New York’s dashing bachelor Congressman Anthony Weiner—are dating has become “common knowledge” among the campaign press corp… [Link]

Hillary Clinton’s top traveling aide, Huma Abedin, is not dating bachelor Rep. Anthony Weiner. A source close to Abedin shares that the political glamour gal is “just friends” with Weiner, but is dating someone else. [Link]

Honestly, I have trouble believing the story because I can’t imagine a body-person having time or energy to do anything more than minister to the candidate’s needs. They’ve got to be there, an arm’s length away, from when the candidate wakes to when they sleep. Huma’s probably better chaperoned than a desi on their first arranged marriage cha-meeting. And besides, Huma’s got her hands so full that I can’t see how she’s able to hold Weiner’s. Her schedule’s so full that there would be no time to be abeddin’ Abedin.

That said, it doesn’t really matter to me whether she likes Weiner or not. We’re desis, we like our politics without sex, thank you very much. You go girl - whatever direction you want.

 
 
The other race: Abedin vs. Love

With the Obama vs. Clinton contest in its death throes, I want to make sure we don’t lose sight of the big picture. There is another contest between an accomplished woman and a black man that is also about to come to an unfortunate end. It is the contest between Clinton body woman Huma Abedin and Obama body man Reggie Love (yes, that is his name).

Mr. Love now knows that when it comes to food, Senator Obama “eats pretty much anything, from chicken wings and barbecue and ribs to grilled fish and steamed broccoli.” But when he is campaigning in a small town with limited options, a cheeseburger is always a good bet. (“Cheddar is the cheese of choice,” Mr. Love added.)

He knows that “the boss,” as he calls Mr. Obama, likes MET-Rx chocolate roasted-peanut protein bars and bottles of a hard-to-find organic brew — Black Forest Berry Honest Tea. He keeps a supply of both on hand…

Mr. Love, 26, is Mr. Obama’s body man, the personal aide who shadows the senator and anticipates everything he needs — and everything he does not need. He is not a bodyguard (security is provided by the Secret Service), but rather the ultimate assistant, rarely more than a body length away from the candidate. [Link]

Even in a story about Obama’s body man, the Times lets us know that it too is smitten by giving a nod to the underdog:

Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton has a body woman, the efficient and glamorous Huma Abedin. [Link]

Yeah, that’s right. She is efficient and glamorous in addition to being dreamy. What does Mr. Love have going for him?

Mr. Love had summer try-outs with the Green Bay Packers in 2004 and the Dallas Cowboys in 2005 before being cut.

Which is how, in 2006, after applying for an internship on Capitol Hill, Mr. Love ended up interviewing with Robert Gibbs, Mr. Obama’s communications director, for a position in Mr. Obama’s Senate office. “It’s the only time I’ve ever interviewed somebody whose work experience included the Green Bay Packers and the Dallas Cowboys,” Mr. Gibbs said. [Link]

Misogyny rears its ugly head once again. The popular jock is pitted against the female achiever.

 
 
You Will Go To "Nether Region" For Watching "The Love Guru"

These people are actually quite serious, when they inform us of the punishments we are likely to receive for making, viewing, or thinking about the upcoming Mike Myers’ comedy, The Love Guru. One of the groups leading the protests is the Hindu Janjagruti Samiti, which has, based on the trailer, judged the film as offensive to Hindus because it mocks the sanctity of the Guru-Shishya relationship. They have drawn up an open letter of protest to the MPAA, and sent out press releases, generating straight-faced coverage like this (thanks, PremiumSchlock).

Unfortunately, while many news organizations have been attending to the budding protests against The Love Guru, few news stories have been paying attention to other creative documents by the Hindu Janjagruti Samiti relating to the film, such as the following table:

            Act

Demerit

   Means

Making the movie, ‘The Love Guru’

30 units

2nd region of Hell for 1000 years

Watching it for entertainment without knowing the spiritual science/significance

2 units

Nether region (Bhuvaloka) for 100 yrs

Watching it for entertainment even after knowing the spiritual science/ significance

5 units

1st region of Hell for 100 yrs

Being a seeker of God/on the spiritual path, knowing about the Movie, but doing nothing to stop it

5 units

1st region of Hell for 100 yrs

(Source for the above table.) And how many demerits do I get for finding this table hilarious? (I must admit, I am rather curious about this “nether region” idea.)

Their open letter to the MPAA is also unintentionally comic:

The trailer released by Paramount pictures shows utter disrespect for the deep spiritual significance of the Guru. It shows the Guru in a very poor light and encourages the audience to laugh at the Guru. I could not believe my eyes when the trailer revealed Mike Myers playing a Guru through a whole range of denigrating scenes, some of which are quite lurid, such as the Guru wearing a chastity belt, having an erection, involved in bar brawls, accepting money to playing cupid, etc. In the trailer the character Pitka is proclaimed as the second best Guru in India. Was this a calculated statement or was this pulled out of some juvenile script writer’s repertoire? For a country that has produced revered Gurus and Saints such as Swami Vivekanand, Ramkrushna Paramhansa and Yogi Arvind, does Paramount Pictures actually believe that Mike Meyer’s portrayal of a Guru will join the ranks of the most illustrious Saints/Guru’s of India? Was your research team / script writer not aware of the sanctity of the Guru prior to making the movie? Did they even consult leaders in Spirituality (apart from Mr. Deepak Chopra of course) if the script was potentially hurting? (link)

“The script was potentially hurting” — indeed.

The protests to this film might turn out to be funnier than the film itself.

 
 
 
Caption This

The Washington Redskins’ cheerleaders recently performed in Hyderabad Bangalore, during an Indian Premier League cricket match. A Washington Post reporter took the following photo:

redskins cheerleaders india.jpg

(Click on the photo to see the faces of the men a bit more clearly.)

There is also a detailed Washington Post article about the event here. Also, we wrote about the rival Twenty20 cricket league, the ICL, here; cheerleaders seemed to be a part of the mix there as well.

 
 
 
The "Great Khali" Attempts to Make Peace; Receives Sucker Punch

I know, I know — there are numerous absurd things happening here. How Boston Bhangra got involved, for one thing, is a puzzle. The “Poonjabi Peace Offering” sounds, to my ear, like it’s been delivered in Hindi. Indeed, The Great Khali is ethnically not Punjabi at all, I don’t think. (His real name is Dalip Singh Rana.)

But if you’re worried about those minor inaccuracies, you’re really REALLY missing the point of the eight glorious minutes of “entertainment” contained herein.

 
 
 
I went to Pakistan with my roommate

Barack Obama dropped a “bombshell” today, something not mentioned in either of his two books:

According to his campaign staff, Mr. Obama visited Pakistan in 1981, on the way back from Indonesia, where his mother and half-sister, Maya Soetoro-Ng, were living. He spent “about three weeks” there, Mr. Obama’s press secretary, Bill Burton, said, staying in Karachi with the family of a college friend, Mohammed Hasan Chandoo, but also traveling to Hyderabad, in India. [Link]

Whoa. He went to Karachi and probably had Hyderabadi biryani on the same college trip over 25 years ago! If he is elected President might not this learning experience alone help him bridge the divide between the South Asian nations? Remember when he said he was appalled that one of his staffers wrote the D-Punjab memo? At the time he stated an affinity for the South Asian community because his college roommate was desi. Turns out BO rolled at least three deep in his younger days:

In “Dreams from My Father,” he talks of having a Pakistani roommate when he moved to New York, a man he calls Sadik who “had overstayed his tourist visa and now made a living in New York’s high-turnover, illegal immigrant work force, waiting on tables…”

During his years at Occidental College, Mr. Obama also befriended Wahid Hamid, a fellow student who was an immigrant from Pakistan and traveled with Mr. Obama there, the Obama campaign said. Mr. Hamid is now a vice president at Pepsico in New York, and according to public records, has donated the maximum $2,300 to the Obama campaign and is listed as a fund-raiser for it.

Mr. Chandoo is now a self-employed financial consultant, living in Armonk, N.Y. He has also donated the maximum, $2,300, to Mr. Obama’s primary campaign and an additional $309 for the general election, campaign finance records show. [Link]

Clinton (D-Punjab) loves India and Indian food, but as far as I know, on a day-to-day basis she only runs one deep. And McCain? I don’t know if he has any desi friends but his daughter is desi, so I guess that also counts as one deep. All this is important because having desi friends means that you might understand aspects of foreign policy better, as Obama explained today:

“I knew what Sunni and Shia was before I joined the Senate Foreign Relations Committee,” he said. [Link]

He might have a point. We all know that W. doesn’t have a desi posse and, as you’d expect, he didn’t know what a Sunni or Shia was. Bottom line: Having South Asian American friends = good. That is something both parties should be able to agree on.

 
 
Don’t let your desi mom read this post

Especially if you are a smart, attractive, single desi woman. Seriously. This isn’t about desi women in particular but you’ll see how this information could be used for evil especially by desi parents. I know some of you forward posts to your parents but don’t do it with this one. You’ve been warned. NSFP=Not Safe for Parents.

Ok, now that I’ve cleared my conscience let’s get to the article at hand shall we? Slate.com recently published, The Eligible-Bachelor Paradox, which makes use of game theory to explain why the best women often end up single and alone if they wait “too long” to get married. We’ll save judgement for the end:

The shortage of appealing men is a century-plus-old commonplace of the society melodrama. The shortage—or—more exactly, the perception of a shortage—becomes evident as you hit your late 20s and more acute as you wander into the 30s. Some men explain their social fortune by believing they’ve become more attractive with age; many women prefer the far likelier explanation that male faults have become easier to overlook.

The problem of the eligible bachelor is one of the great riddles of social life. Shouldn’t there be about as many highly eligible and appealing men as there are attractive, eligible women?…

Actually, no—and here’s why. Consider the classic version of the marriage proposal: A woman makes it known that she is open to a proposal, the man proposes, and the woman chooses to say yes or no. The structure of the proposal is not, “I choose you.” It is, “Will you choose me?” A woman chooses to receive the question and chooses again once the question is asked. [Link]

So what have we learned so far? Despite the fact that men usually propose, it is the woman that typically dictates if and when a marriage will occur. In a free and modern society (meaning no forced or pressured marriages) the real power rests with the woman. Let’s go on then:

You can think of this traditional concept of the search for marriage partners as a kind of an auction. In this auction, some women will be more confident of their prospects, others less so.In game-theory terms, you would call the first group “strong bidders” and the second “weak bidders.” Your first thought might be that the “strong bidders”—women who (whether because of looks, social ability, or any other reason) are conventionally deemed more of a catch—would consistently win this kind of auction.

But this is not true. In fact, game theory predicts, and empirical studies of auctions bear out, that auctions will often be won by “weak” bidders, who know that they can be outbid and so bid more aggressively, while the “strong” bidders will hold out for a really great deal. [Link]

 
 
You liked that book? Pretentious crap. Get out of my bed.

Discussion over an article published Sunday night on the NY Times website dominated my email inbox today. Given the fact that so many SM readers are hyper-literate (or at least think they are) this simply had to be shared, discussed, and dissected to death here as well. Ready yourselves:

We’ve all been there. Or some of us have. Anyone who cares about books has at some point confronted the Pushkin problem: when a missed — or misguided — literary reference makes it chillingly clear that a romance is going nowhere fast. At least since Dante’s Paolo and Francesca fell in love over tales of Lancelot, literary taste has been a good shorthand for gauging compatibility. These days, thanks to social networking sites like Facebook and MySpace, listing your favorite books and authors is a crucial, if risky, part of self-branding. When it comes to online dating, even casual references can turn into deal breakers. Sussing out a date’s taste in books is “actually a pretty good way — as a sort of first pass — of getting a sense of someone,” said Anna Fels, a Manhattan psychiatrist and the author of “Necessary Dreams: Ambition in Women’s Changing Lives.” “It’s a bit of a Rorschach test.” To Fels (who happens to be married to the literary publisher and writer James Atlas), reading habits can be a rough indicator of other qualities. “It tells something about … their level of intellectual curiosity, what their style is,” Fels said. “It speaks to class, educational level.”

Pity the would-be Romeo who earnestly confesses middlebrow tastes: sometimes, it’s the Howard Roark problem as much as the Pushkin one. “I did have to break up with one guy because he was very keen on Ayn Rand,” said Laura Miller, a book critic for Salon. “He was sweet and incredibly decent despite all the grandiosely heartless ‘philosophy’ he espoused, but it wasn’t even the ideology that did it. I just thought Rand was a hilariously bad writer, and past a certain point I couldn’t hide my amusement.” (Members of theatlasphere.com, a dating and fan site for devotees of “Atlas Shrugged” and “The Fountainhead,” might disagree.)… [Link]

I confess, I went to theatlassphere.com to see if Vinod had posted a dating ad there. The article goes on to conclude that you must be incredibly shallow if you dump someone based openly (or secretly) on the fact that their taste in literature sucks compared to yours. In fact, it wasn’t until I read this article that I wondered, for the first time in my life, if I was shallow. Am I destined to be “Baioed”? Not only would the pre-32 year old Abhi break up with a girl if she had ever in her life waited in a line for a Harry Potter book, he may also have dumped her if she didn’t like Mos Def The Cure (yes, I am a music snob as well). However, the new Abhi is reflective about the depth of his shallowness, mostly because he had been completely unaware of it until recently. The new Abhi wants to change. There have always been hints. Let me tell you all about one recent break-up. Well, it still feels recent but I guess it has actually been a while.

 
 
Caption This

The following image was sent to me by email; it comes from the Times of India; I don’t know the artist or the original context in which it was printed:

okrishna radhillary.jpg

Please provide a caption or title. avoiding the use of the word “kala.”

I should acknowledge that at least one conservative Hindu website has declared that they find the above image offensive. Do readers agree?

(As I understand it, images of deities in the Hindu tradition are widely appropriated and reinterpreted in the culture. They don’t have the same “forbidden” status that they do in, say, Islam. While I can definitely see how a nude image of a Hindu deity not normally represented as nude might be offensive, I think a comic or satirical gloss on a revered story from the tradition, as in the image above, isn’t that uncommon. I am, as always, open to hearing other points of view…)

 
 
 
There goes the neighborhood

The big news on this Sunday is that an Indian character (human not puppet) is finally (after 39 years) moving on to the storied Sesame Street!

Doesn’t Snuffleupagus look like he is eyeing “Leela” as food?

The newest neighbor on Sesame Street just happens to be Indian American, because the role was originally dreamed up with no particular ethnicity in mind.

“It was incidental,” actress Nitya Vidyasagar told India-West by phone last week from New York City, where she is currently taping the 39th season of the award-winning PBS children’s show. “The casting notices said nothing of ethnicity.”

But the New York-based stage actress made such a strong impression on the show’s producers that they found themselves willing to create her role from scratch.

Vidyasagar plays Leela, a young Indian American woman who runs the local laundromat. Unlike many of the other actors on the show, who use their own first names as their character’s names, she felt more comfortable with the name Leela. “My name is hard for some people to say,” she explained. [Link]

Sepia Mutiny went down to Sesame Street and conducted interviews to see what some residents thought of their newest neighbor. Would there be increased tension because a South Asian was moving in to the neighborhood?

First off, we found that the some Koreans were pissed that a desi is running the laundromat instead of one of their own. When pressed further they said, “why not the 7-11 one street over?” The cookie monster was also in a foul mood explaining, “great, one more mouth to feed.” Count von Count was excited that he may soon learn how to count in Hindi. Oscar threw a garbage lid at one of our bloggers and just didn’t want to be bothered. Elmo just kept laughing because he was so happy at the news but then Bert came by and slapped him upside the head for no (good) reason.

The only one that would speak to us in earnest was Grover. He turned out to be far more lucid than he comes across on television (and he wasn’t wearing a cape). He struck me as an old soul actually. He was glad to see “Leela” move into the neighborhood but expressed some remorse when learning that Nitya had chosen to go by “Leela” because she thought “Nitya” might be too hard to pronounce. “We have a mammoth-like dude named Aloysius Snuffleupagus that lives on this street. Would Nitya really have been that hard to pronounce? Even Barack gave up Barry,” said Grover.

The new Leela is quite an international woman, and speaks Hindi and Telugu. Born in Muscat, Oman, she moved to India with her family when she was a year old. She and her family lived in Kolkata, Hyderabad and Bangalore before moving to the United States when she was 12, and she speaks English with a delicate, yet hard-to-place, Indian accent. “They said I could speak with my accent, too,” she laughed. [Link]

Look for the new season to start in August. This post was brought to you by the number 8 and the letter W.

 
 
 
Big B for PM of USA

Without making a big fuss, the boys at Badmash are back with a new video and new material. Tired of the Presidential Election already? Well, how about directing your attention to the election for Prime Minister of America (click to watch the video)[Thanks to Taz]:

Amitabh has a carefully nuanced platform, which explains why America needs a PM:

“I want to say to America: Look, America, I am not here to take a job from you. I am here to bring you a job from India. That job is Prime Minister. And yes, you should find an Indian to do it.” [Link]

He’s willing to take clear stands concerning important issues, such as women’s rights:

“I have always felt right about women.” [Link]

and the right to bear arms:

“Of course. Arms should definitely be bared. As often as possible. And shoulders. And even stomachs, especially in a white sari. But only not in Texas. I’ve seen less ‘skirt steak’ on healthy cows.” [Link]

and most importantly, the issue of Obama in a turban:

But Green Card Party candidate and Oscar-attendee Amitabh Bachchan was skeptical. He cited the loose wrapping and the absence of a triangular summit as reasons to believe this impostor’s turban would never go over with the country’s brown constituents.
“The audacity of audacity!” Bachchan told reporters after seeing the photo. “Is this guy trying to make me look bad? [Link]

 
 
 
It isn't even April 1st yet!

I love wearing saris. Trouble is, the more unique a sari is, the more memorable it will be. If you wore this to a wedding in May, people will still remember it in June. For those of us who are 3,ooo miles from home and Mama’s saris, that doesn’t leave us with many options, especially if shopping at ISP in Murrland isn’t a palatable idea.

Since I haven’t been back to the pind since 1989 (insert cringe here), and I feel like I’m getting massively ripped off if I buy something on Devon or University Avenue, that only leaves me with one way to get my pleats on; every year, some relative returns from Kerala with a few gifts which my much-adored Chinamma chose for me. She knows that I favor Kanjeevaram…and that her older sister, my Moms, is very conservative. [See: my blouse sleeves, for proof.] Chinamma always sends me something beautiful, and because of her, I haven’t needed to purchase something silky or slinky online. And that, dear mutineers, is why I didn’t see this (click, to enlarge…if you dare):

are you kidding me.jpg

 
 
A Trick Question: That's KAH-ree-yah-wah-sum

A quick break here from my Groundviews posts. First, as I said in that last comment thread, the kind people in the bunker said I could stay for awhile longer! I’m excited.

Second, my friend alerted me to a reference to Sri Lanka in a recent SNL skit:

Run the player until about 1:30 before the end, and listen to the foreign policy segment. Yup, that’s a reference to Sri Lanka’s Ambassador Prasad Kariyawasam. He’s Sri Lanka’s permanent rep to the U.N. At least, I think he still is. :)

 
 
Twenty-two more hours until the L.A. Meetup! There's still time to flee!

L A meetup.jpg Ennis wanted me to remind you that tomorrow night is the L.A. meetup.

I briefly toyed with the idea of not posting this, just because I like intercoastal chicken* and I’m hyper-competitive about everything. Then I realized that even if the L.A. meetup was dazzling, glorious and fornication-laden…it would still occur in Los Angeles ;)

Please take lots of pictures, the SM Flickr group has been woefully neglected, as has our Facebook album for the SM “group”. Really, you have no excuse, since you’re all going to have your cell phones with you and even the lamest o’ phones now takes pictures, hokay?

So.

Twenty-two hours from now.

Redwood Bar and Grill.

316 W. 2nd Street, Los Anjalis, 90012.

Got that?

.

*Why chicken? Well, it can’t be beef, because lots of desis don’t eat red meat. Can’t be pork, because lots of desis think it’s

gross

…you thought I was going to say “haram”, didn’t you? HA. Suckers.

 
 
Timberlake in a banana hammock? I'm there!

Behold, the trailer for “The Love Guru” (tagline: His karma is huge). I have mixed feelings, because I really lurve Mike Myers; I quote something from Goldmember almost daily. But, as familiar and fun as the shrimp/gnome scene in this trailer is (“Moleee Moleee Moooole”, anyone?) seeing Myers travel around on a pillow, flying carpet-ishtyle made me want to smack someone.

Plot nugget below:

Pitka (Mike Myers) is an American raised by gurus who returns to the USA in order to break into the self-help business. His first challenge: To settle the romantic troubles and subsequent professional skid of star Toronto Maple Leafs hockey player Darren Roanoke (Romany Malco) whose wife Prudence (Meagan Good) left him for rival skater Jacques Grande (Justin Timberlake). [wiki]

We should totally do a meetup on June 20th, so we can shriek about what offended us, afterwards. ;)

p.s. Thank you to lion and astrosmurf, for the tip!

 
 
NBC gets real with Desis, for Valentine's Week

Sugi’s post on how to make babies who will possess certain characteristics via Sarkai lo khatiya jaada lage on prescribed days of the month (with both of you keeping your eyes open, got that? no eyelash fluttering out of unbearable ecstasy) is so much more mutinous than what I’m going to post, but I believe in diversity, so while she brought the funny, I’m bringin’ the schmaltz. No, not schmaltz as in rendered goose fat which can be spread on bread as is done in German and Jewish cuisine, schmaltz as in the unbelievably literal “Every Kiss begins with K”-schmaltz.

Still with me? No? Perk up. It’s tea time, lovers.

Last night, I watched “Deal or No Deal, for the first time, ever. That show is mesmerizing with its repetition and stupidity. I wanted to tell the firefighter whom they were featuring that his response of

$100,000…wow…that could do a lot…it’s like, two years salary

in response to Howie’s ridiculously leading question

How would that change absolutely everything for you and your pregnant wife, who has to put up with you working two jobs?

was actually incorrect, since taxes would eat nearly half that amount and so it was really more like ONE year of his salary, but whatevs.

Though I had an hour to waste, I still couldn’t understand why I was watching such garbage while waiting for my dirty-little-secret-TV-cocktail of “Super Nanny” and “Cashmere Mafia”— which is on an entirely different network. But you know what mutineers? It turns out that everything happens for a reason.

During one of the commercial breaks on NBC, my browndar went off like police sirens in Adams Morgan on a Saturday night. Through my keen peripheral vision, I saw a brown face sinking and then looking up. I whipped my head around (oww) and realized that some random Desi had just proposed to their future Karva-Chauth-hostage (KIDDING).

What the-?

Visit NBC.com/Love for more about this couple…sponsored by Kay Jewelers…every Gambia-Senegal session after Applebee’s begins with Kay…
 
 
Evidence of Voter Intimidation

In case you needed to have it pointed out, today was the so-called “Potomac Primary,” where the voters of Maryland, Virginia, and D.C. weighed in on their favorite candidate. My dad was one of the voters who showed up bright and early to get his vote in. I know that one’s ballot should be secret and that this is one of the fundamentals of our Democracy. However, I am a blogger, and our kind is not known for always playing fair. Thus, I will share with you all the first email in my inbox this morning:

from: Dad
to: Abhi
date: Feb 12, 2008 7:27 AM
subject: Hold on to your Dreams * Love ……..Dad

2-12-2008 [0829]

Abhi: I voted for Hillary - an hour ago. I urge you to think positive and hang on to your dreams.
Also please try and select life partner before next January !! Good luck !! Love…. Dad

My primary in Texas isn’t until March 4th. I am still one of those undecided voters that I usually deride during other elections. All my recent energy has been focused on choosing the best candidate to elect to office next January. Now I have another choice to make on my plate apparently. A friend who I forwarded the above email to replied with an insightful remark:

Well, if you think about it, it makes sense. What else happens next Jan? Obama becomes president. So it’s perfect — Abhi will find a life partner when a black man becomes president. See, our dads really do know everything.

 
 
Facebook loves us a little too much.

Flying all over the intarwebs is an NYT article about Facebook— and how it is apparently the equivalent of a social networking roach motel; once you check in you can’t check out.

Are you a member of Facebook.com? You may have a lifetime contract. Some users have discovered that it is nearly impossible to remove themselves entirely from Facebook, setting off a fresh round of concern over the popular social network’s use of personal data. While the Web site offers users the option to deactivate their accounts, Facebook servers keep copies of the information in those accounts indefinitely.

The first flummoxed Facebooker quoted by la grey lady is brown!

“It’s like the Hotel California,” said Nipon Das, 34, a director at a biotechnology consulting firm in Manhattan, who tried unsuccessfully to delete his account this fall. “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”
It took Mr. Das about two months and several e-mail exchanges with Facebook’s customer service representatives to erase most of his information from the site, which finally occurred after he sent an e-mail threatening legal action. But even after that, a reporter was able to find Mr. Das’s empty profile on Facebook and successfully sent him an e-mail message through the network.

I understand that Facebook is ostensibly attempting to keep the reactivation process zimble, should one change one’s mind about one’s participation in this timesuck, but one might still find this policy douchey. (Now who has U2 stuck in their head? Just me? Meh. You kids and your tatti taste in music.)

Facebook’s Web site does not inform departing users that they must delete information from their account in order to close it fully — meaning that they may unwittingly leave anything from e-mail addresses to credit card numbers sitting on Facebook servers. Only people who contact Facebook’s customer service department are informed that they must painstakingly delete, line by line, all of the profile information, “wall” messages and group memberships they may have created within Facebook.
 
 
True Conversation with my Mom, 30 Minutes Ago

“HELLO.”

“Well, that was a forceful ‘Hello’…”

“Sorry, Ma. You’ve called three times and each time I picked up, I heard nothing.”

“I have a bad connection, sorry…listen, I have a quick thing to ask you.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Should I vote?”

“WHAT?!”

“Is the primary important? Isn’t the election what matters?”

“Well…the primary is going to determine who will be in those elections, so yes it’s very important. Why are you even asking? GO VOTE, woman. Cheee!”

“I know…I should…”

“Then?”

“Well, I don’t know…”

“About what?”

“Why can’t I vote for who I want?”

“Ma. Clinton is on the ballot. What are you saying?”

“But I have to vote for a Democrat.”

“Ohhh, that-a-way. Yeah, it’s basically a closed primary.”

“That’s not fair.”

“DUDE. You were the one who was all drunk off HRC kool-aid a week ago.”

“I don’t like people telling me who to vote!”

 
 
No Exclamation Points Were Harmed in the Blogging of this Post.

Yay commodification.JPG

I yam still convalescing, which means I don’t feel guilty for phoning this one in. ;) I love the random, and when Nux2 posted a link on our News Tab to a fabulous pillow you can purchase for your home, and he/she described his/her find as “random”, I was on it like Oprah on Obama. It’s mutinous because the pillow has Bollywood on it! And it’s just a mere $19.99? Wheee! Fire up the maroon Camry and let’s go!

Bombay blockbuster. Coming to a sofa or chair near you. Bollywood film clip, remastered in black and white on 100% cotton. Hidden zipper closure; feather-down insert. Machine wash. Imported. [CB2]

If you’re a fraudulent brownie like me who neither speaks Hindi (mein kya karoon?) nor watches Bollyfun, you probably won’t know that the gorgeous woman whose face will soon be under some hipster’s ass* is BhanuRekha Ganesan, the effulgent star of the legendary phillum Umrao Jaan (“the real version”, which came out in 1981 when I was six).

If you click the picture above, you can see a huge version of it, to better appreciate the edginess of it all. Once you do that, you might find yourself considering the severed hand tchotchke I’ve included a screen shot of(“adaa hand sculpture”), which is a steal at just $49.95. Think of all the money you’re saving by not buying the whole body!

 
 
Engineers = Evil

Every now and then you come across a new study or news article that really just hits home. It helps provide some “professional” or “scientific” insight into something that you always kind of suspected but could never quite properly articulate to yourself. I came across just such an article today (and the study behind it) and it has me re-examining myself (and many of my friends) in a new light:

Is there a thread that ties engineers to Islamic terrorism?

There certainly is, according to Diego Gambetta and Steffen Hertog at Oxford University, who recently published a paper titled, “Engineers of Jihad.” The authors call the link to terrorism “the engineer’s mindset.”

The sociology paper published last November, which has been making rounds over the Internet and was recently picked up by The Atlantic, uses illustrative statistics and qualitative data to conclude that there is a strong relationship between an engineering background and involvement in a variety of Islamic terrorist groups. The authors have found that graduates in subjects such as science, engineering, and medicine are strongly overrepresented among Islamist movements in the Muslim world. The authors also note that engineers, alone, are strongly over-represented among graduates who gravitate to violent groups. [Link]

One risk factor alone usually does not provide cause for worry (although I do have two engineering degrees). However, when combined with other risk factors such as this one that I had previously written about, you can imagine why I have decided to do some real soul searching. I mean, us engineers do have a lot of things in common with terrorists besides the fact that there are a lot of South Asian engineers and quite a few South Asian terrorists. For example, both groups hope that there are virgins in the afterlife (cause there definitely ain’t many women in engineering school). Both groups also stay home on Friday nights and have time to become increasingly bitter.

However, contrary to popular speculation, it’s not technical skills that make engineers attractive recruits to radical groups. Rather, the authors pose the hypothesis that “engineers have a ‘mindset’ that makes them a particularly good match for Islamism,” which becomes explosive when fused by the repression and vigorous radicalization triggered by the social conditions they endured in Islamic countries. [Link]

I wonder if people that know me think I have an “engineer’s mindset.” I will now have to suppress it by pretending to be intellectually lazy and incurious. How do you liberal arts and business majors do it so well?

 
 
Bolly gets pwned by the Mouse

Bollywood must be reeling from the disrespect paid to it by its smaller cousin in California. It’s not bad enough that the Hindi version of Spiderman 3 broke box office records in India, outgrossing domestic productions with a clear ripoff of Indian cinema complete with Tobey Maguire’s Bollystyle costumes, dancing, and hair acting. But to make matters worse, Disney has been muscling in on Bolly’s home turf, the absurd movie musical.

In an audacious move akin to bringing coals to Newcastle, Disney released High School Musical (1) with songs and dialogue dubbed into Hindi in 2006. The new release involved a few subtle changes that revealed how well Disney understands Indian film audiences:

Consider “Bop to the Top,” the title of a song from the first movie. In India, one of Disney’s most important foreign markets, the phrase was changed to “Pa Pa Pa Paye Yeh Dil,” which the company said roughly translates to “the heart is full of happiness” in Hindi. A Hindi translator contacted by The New York Times said: “It’s sort of like a Duran Duran song. The words sound sexy but mean nothing…” [Link]

The dubbed version of HSM did well enough that now Disney is releasing the sequel, High School Musical 2, with an entirely Indian cast. It’s just one of many versions of HSM2 with local casts - you can see them displayed in this medley of different adaptations of HSM2 from around the world.

Below is the climatic song in the all-desi HSM2, Aaja Nachle, the replacement for “All for One” in the American version of HSM2:

The song is a hit worldwide:

According to Nielsen Media Research, more than 1.5 million children age 6 to 11 watched “Aaja Nachle.” Even in a foreign language, children “can feel what they’re saying,” Ms. Sweeney said. [Link]

The Indian film industry is taking Disney’s blatant neo-imperialism very seriously, and is launching a counter-strike. They have announced that SRK will star in a completely naturalistic biopic of Dalip Singh Saund’s life to be released for American markets, saying that anything Miramax can do, they can do better.

 
 
Indian Men Dig Mills & Boon Too

Via the Literary Saloon, an article in the Economic Times on the upcoming formal distribution of Harlequin Mills & Boon romance novels in India. These novels have of course been available in South Asia for many years — but mostly via redistribution and consignment. It’s only now that Harlequin is planning to start distributing its books in India directly:

For most Indian readers, it will come as a surprise that M&B was never actually distributed in India. The novels have been so much a part of our lives, stacked in the hundreds in circulating libraries, borrowed dozens at a time by women (especially in hostels, where the trick was for one girl to borrow them and ten to read them the same night), laid out for sale second hand on pavements.

We’ve seen the special sections in large bookshops, shelves aching with romantic desperation, anguish and fulfillment. We’ve fantasised about the busty heroines and tall dark handsome heroes on the covers. We knew about all the different varieties of novels: nurses, Regency, exotic settings and so on. And exactly how we knew all this we would never say since like most people we would never admit to reading M&B.

But all of this was achieved with Harlequin ever selling directly. “We had some idea about this market, but we never really followed it up,” admits Go. “At the Frankfurt Book Fair, we would meet Indian distributors who would offer to take on consignments and we never bothered beyond that.” (link)

Interestingly, Harlequin is finding that Indian men are just about as likely to be Mills and Boon fans as women:

What he wasn’t expecting were the men, “A substantial percentage of Mills & Boon readership in India is male! You don’t see that in other markets.” Go has speculations on why this is the case. Perhaps it’s just the sheer ubiquity of M&B novels, “Their sisters and mothers are reading them and since they are lying around the men read them too.” (link)

(Come on, desi guys — I know you’ve read a few of these. MoorNam? Floridian? Now is the time to come clean.)

Finally, the author of the piece asks an obvious question on my mind from the start — what about the desi version:

But the interesting question is whether, as with FMCG products, M&B will see the need to Indianise their offering. When even a Kentucky Fried Chicken has to offer a chicken curry thali to survive in India, will M&B be able to continue with its offering of Western-oriented romance fiction? Or is this sort of escapist fiction exactly its appeal? (link)

(“Tall, dark, and handsome” might have to become “fair and handsome” in the Indian context. And maybe they could still use Fabio on the cover, only with Shah Rukh Khan’s hair style?)

Incidentally, I have long wanted to write my own pulpy romance novel to make some quick cash, but I’ve been starved for a good (desi-oriented) plot. Can anyone suggest a good scenario for me to use, as I attempt to enter the world of trash fiction popular romantic fare? (The best I can think of right now is an Indian version of this plot. Hopefully I can come up with a better title than “The Rancher’s Doorstep Baby,” however)

 
 
Prêt-à-Porter for Boyz

Quick, when was the last time I wrote a blog entry on the topic of high fashion for SM? Do some of you view me as a mere niche blogger who only writes about Antarctic exploration or freaky kids? These days, bloggers must remain sufficiently versatile so as to compete in a cut-throat business, one where the profit margins are razor thin and the trolls are out with knifes. And so I bring you news of designer Marc Jacobs’ spring/summer 2008 line (thanks for the tip “Meenbeen”):

Marc Jacobs can do anything he wants now. He’s even feeling confident enough to open up about a troubled private life that he once kept very private. And one expression of that confident spirit is the injection of willfulness he’s given to his collections. It’s a definite boon to the menswear in his second line, which can occasionally seem a little too close to the contents of College Boy’s closet. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but Jacobs has proved himself a virtuoso at distilling the talents of his various collaborators, and he has some keen ones at M. by M. We could rightly expect a little more. With this latest effort, we got it.

The menswear took the mixed-up, mumbled-up, shook-up world that Marc presented for his signature Spring collection and toned it down to one key discombobulation: asymmetry. [Link]

The above review was written during 2007’s Fashion Week in NYC. Since the majority of the clothes-buying-public didn’t attend Fashion Week, they will mostly base their opinion of his men’s clothing line on print ads seen in prominent men’s magazines, and based on the reviews of prominent fashion bloggers like myself. Some of you may recognize one of the models he has chosen to show off his new men’s line: the musician M.I.A. Below each photograph I will comment on the effectiveness of these ads from the perspective of a male with a disposable income.

In the above picture M.I.A. poses like that one potential child molester uncle in the family who the relatives all shield their kids from. Her clammy skin and disheveled hair seem to scream, “what!?” and I imagine that in the next frame (had it been published) her head and chest would have been lurching forward as she said just that into the camera. This look would suit a stockbroker or I-banker, the kind who will never be the best in his field, but has some cocaine to party with after work…so its all good. And those hands. Greedy, clutching, talon-like hands that will find a way to collect what’s coming to them. All things eventually find their way into those hands so you may as well just “give it up” without a struggle. Belt not needed for a look like this (in case you were wondering). The man wearing those pants shouldn’t have to be bothered with a belt anyways. Those pants need to be easy to pull down and easy to put on in a hurry when he needs to sneak out. And he sneaks out often. The tie? The subliminal message being sent by this ad is that even if you think the tie is ugly, you can still use it for something else. Like to tie something in place. Utilitarian clothing is in for 2008. [As a side note, this is the most attractive I’ve ever seen M.I.A. look, and I’ve seen her up close. I kept looking to see if there was a wire leading from one of those red sockets at the bottom left of the photograph, into her, to make her so electric].

 
 
Another freaky Indian kid

Title says it all. Here is something to think about on the drive home or to discuss with your friends over a beer tonight:

Roller-skating under cars might seem impossible, but it is the latest craze among kids in India and requires the flexibility, strength and balance of a gymnast.

Six-year-old Aniket Chindak holds the unofficial world record for ‘limbo-skating’ and speeds along no more than eight-inches above the ground.

Unfolding his body from his eye-watering position, the wonder-kid explained proudly how he is training to break his own world record of skating under 57 cars in 45 seconds. [Link]

He is like a human transformer. He goes from upright human to some sort of crazy airplane looking thing. Unfortunately, like all other successful child freaks, he will probably go on to face disappointment in a business that exploits youth to provide blog and media fodder.

 
 
A mind, a blog, and a vast emptiness

We often receive emails like the one below at the lonely North Dakota bunker that serves as Sepia Mutiny’s world blogging headquarters:

…I’d like to reach a wider audience and would really appreciate if you could link [to] my blog.

ps - I’m pretty good at keeping my site updated. Please take a look!

Thanks much!

To this, our standard response (if we have time to write one) is a polite “please read our F.A.Q.” But when I read the above email from a blogger, writing from a lonely bunker of his own, with nothing but his science and his blog…well, I’m not made of stone people. I’m quick to recognize a kindred spirit when I see one.

Plus, this guy’s research has direct bearing on my own work and career aspirations (and might save me some day):

I am a resident of Delhi, India, and a psychiatrist by profession (heal the mentally unwell). I’m also fond of the great outdoors, and cultures around the world. I’ll be spending 3.5 months in Antarctica winter of 2008, doing research at the Indian base station. Thru this blog, I hope to keep my friends and family updated on my stay in this incredible land.
—Sudhir Khandelwal [Link]

Of course he is going to be “good about updating his site!” What else does he have to do? :)

 
 
Cricket: Ponting tells on Singh, is now that annoying kid we all hate for being lame.

It was a dark and stormy night. That’s a lie. It was a mild and unseasonably warm night and I was almost asleep, lulled away by Heidi Klum’s and Niki Taylor’s voiceovers on Bravo.

Then, something insane happened; I received a reality-bending email. But first, some unnecessary prattle back story.

From age 0-3.5, I had a much-adored stuffed bear, like most children my age. Unlike most children, my bear was named Babu, which totally proves that kids born here in the early to mid seventies might as well have been popped out “back home”. Anyway, Babu was wonderful as a confidante, hugging partner and drool-catcher…until we moved to San Francisco. Somewhere between Southern California and Northern, Babu disappeared, never to be seen again.

Last night, dazed and confused by exhaustion, I checked my email one final time…and did a sleepy double-take. There, in my inbox…Babu. The only justification I can offer for thinking what comes next is, um, Benadryl. “My Babu reached out to me from beyond!”, I gasped, and he did so via GMail no less:

Hi Anna,
It’s the biggest story happening in Indian Cricket and you are not covering it….that’s not right :)
Feed your cricket hunger with the story. I’m not sure if you are aware of the suspension of an Indian cricket player over racial abuse. This has created a cricket war between India and Australia. and YOU should write about it.
It has high drama, fight for honor, millions of dollars at stake and the big Indian ego Vs Australian. Australian media is supporting India as well :)
Link, link, link and link.
Well, I didn’t wanna vote in News tab and wait….hehe.. :D
~Babu

Babu, after absorbing tears, snot and Lord knows what else, this is the least I can do.

All right people.

The cricket post I have received eleven requests for (not counting the above-pasted, impassioned plea from my bear) is up next.

 
 
V are all Rockstars

Abhi posted a link on the news tab which I just had to click…Guns N’ Roses? Sweet Child o’ Mine?

Indian-ishtyle??

I thought my brain would implode at the thought but I was hooked immediately. That song (and that group) dominate my memories of my freshman year in high school— mostly because I hated myself for secretly kind of liking it.

 
 
A Mutinous Look Back at 2007

There is no point to this picture except to consider it a reminder of how INSANE this year was.

Unlike many of you lucky bastards mutineers, I am at work today, so this might be one of the most compendious posts I will ever write (stop applauding, haterz).

For the last week or so, I kept hearing variations on “I can’t believe the year is almost over!”. I was feeling that way myself until I started to pore through our archives. Now I feel like this has been a very long year, one which lasted at least 365 days.

Can you even conceive of a time before Sanjaya? Believe it or not, there was, way back in the beginning of 2007.

Let that sink in.

NOW doesn’t it feel like January 17th—the last day that the mutiny was papaya-free— was a long time ago? Speaking of Sanjaya, he’s on the list. What list? The list I made of interesting, notable or significant posts from this year.

Without further contradiction of my use of the word “compendious”, here they are, for your procrastination and pleasure:

Obama
Sanjaya
Gigi
Aish
Gogol
Neyyappam
Grace

 
 
Ghosts of Christmas (and other times) past

I’m always a bit hesitant to write what might be viewed as a “personal” entry on these pages. I used to have my own personal blog for those types of musings but decided to give it up because of the pressures of a full time job and this blog. I also don’t want to be presumptuous and assume that the vast majority of SM readers care about my life (as opposed to my writings highlighting something of interest or importance to the South Asian American community). That being said, today is a holiday (when SM readership plummets for obvious reasons), and so I figured I’d get away with some personal blogging. Since many of you seemed to enjoy my previous entry about my arduous toils in my basement, I thought I would serve up one more entry based on the booty recovered from the nine tons of refuse we removed from down there over the last three days.

First off, I know some of you don’t believe me when I say I’m a Grinch. Do these pictures finally convince you? I could tell even at a young age that this new-fangled Santa Claus was an imposter:

Leave this one alone. He’s bad to the bone. (Age 1)

And Frosty? Please. The only large snowball I care to associate with is a snow cone with watermelon syrup:

Where is Frosty’s left hand?

 
 
Hindi-Chini Bhai Bhai 2007

India and China are just about to wrap up joint military exercises, 45 years after the border war which put an end to the phrase which serves as the title of this post. The CSM reports:

The decision to hold joint Army exercises, ending tomorrow, in China’s Yunnan Province, is admittedly a small measure. But it is the first time the two armies have cooperated in such a way, and it comes on the heels of rapidly expanding Sino-Indian ties in business and politics…

This being the first Army exercise between the two countries, it has been small. Only 95 Indian soldiers have traveled to Yunnan Province, where they are participating in counterterrorism drills. But the joint exercise is expected to become an annual event, helping each side become better acquainted with the other.

“These are building blocks being put in place,” says Rahul Bedi of Jane’s, a London-based military analysis firm. “It’s a part of the learning process…” [Link]

And what did they name these exercises? Operation Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon? Sadly, no. That would have been the name if only I were in charge. Instead, the name given to these joint training exercises was “Hand-in-Hand 2007.” Hand-in-Hand? These are supposed to be warriors not playmates. For your viewing enjoyment I have posted some of the most exciting pictures from the the last several days:

Chinese soldier teaches Indians that the best way to defend against a sledge hammer to the head is by using the nearest pile of bricks for protection. They swear it works and that Indians should try.

 
 
Skeletons in the basement

The last two days I have been performing back-breaking, grueling, utterly soul crushing labor…in my own house (well, my parents house). Have you guys ever read a news article about some reclusive old guy who had a lifelong hoarding problem (a.k.a syllogomania) and when police finally entered the house they found a rotting, partially eaten corpse buried underneath a pile of junk that was formerly on one side of the only navigable lane through the house? Yes? Then now you know what my dad is like (known as “Yo Dad” to some who read SM). My dad left with my mom for India earlier this week so I flew home to help my brother clean out the house without any resistance. I wanted to solve this looming crisis before my dad made the local news in the “odd news” segment. Over the last two days we’ve been cleaning out stuff (mostly stored in the basement) that spans back 40 years! I won’t bore you with descriptions of 20-year-old used shower curtains or “Indian luggage bags” filled with spiders. I will take you straight to the good stuff. First, check out these two cricket bats. I remember they were purchased on a trip to India in 1982/3 in Ahmedabad (I was ~7). Notice anything shocking on one of them?

Was I an angry militant batsman as a child?

Can someone please explain this to me? Why would a child’s cricket bat say Hitler on it? I can understand why the one on the right has Sunil Gavaskar’s name…but Hitler?? As best as I can guess, the bat makers meant to spell “Hitter” but misspelled it as “Hitler.” Why did my parents even buy me this cricket bat? This could REALLY come back to tank my candidacy if I ever run for office. This is a closet skeleton right up there with GW Bush’s and Obama’s cocaine use.

 
 
Stocking stuffers for the Orissa government

The opposition Orissa Congress Party is pissed off and they ain’t going to take it no more. Surely I am referring to some local matter (perhaps involving bauxite), right? Nope. They are pissed off at the online (mostly T-shirt) store CafePress and want to lodge a formal complaint with the United States government so as to put a stop to the highly offensive insanity I am about to describe. We’ve heard this all before from American Hindus, but this one just escalates the absurdity to a whole new level:

Is that a Nehru in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?

Insensitivity towards foreign cultures and sentiments has plumbed new depths. A US-based online shop has kicked up a storm by printing images of the Tricolour, Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru on undergarments.

The Orissa Congress on Saturday condemned the “cheap publicity stunt.” “This is stupid on the website’s part to malign a world leader like Gandhi and a great national icon like Nehru in such a disgraceful fashion,” Opposition leader, J B Patnaik, said, adding, “They should be told through proper channels to stop it. Since the website is US-based, I urge Indians there to lodge strong protests…” [Link]

Did you hear that? “They should be told…to stop it.” I beseech you my fellow Indian Americans to heed the call of this nobody politician from Orissa and demand that we protest against the First Amendment of these United States. If you remain unconvinced then I must point out that the reputations of Gandhi, Nehru, and the Indian Flag are not the only ones at stake. There is far greater disrespect involved here:

Youth also protested against the derogatory portrayal of Bollywood icons, Amitabh Bachchan and Shah Rukh Khan, on similar products. Now, it’s the turn of freedom fighters to air their grievances against the “offensive attacks on national leaders”. [Link]
 
 
With Mango Juuuuuuice! With Shampooooo!

I guess MC Vikram and Ludakrishna aren’t the only dynamic desi duo doing creative reinterpretations of hip-hop:

I can’t get over their names, Pari and Harvin…sorry, allow me to be accurate—I can’t get over ONE of their names, because I always thought it was a very bad word in Malayalam.

Random Uncle: Molay, what did you get for Christmas?
Three-year old me: Pari!
Random Uncle: *thud* (falls over in horror)
My dad: She’s so funny!

Beyond that, I must say that I was somewhat impressed with the quality of the video (though I’m rarely on YouTube, so I’m sure all the youths of today have ridonkulous video editing skillz of which I am unaware).

Once the backup dancers started..um…cranking…or light bulb-changing specifically, I was surprised at the level of thought put in to this lunacy. Backup dancers! It must have been fun to walk by all THAT. Where’s the “Making the Video” for this, complete with confused non-desis watching on the street corner?

Anyway, it’s Friday and we’re (read: I’m) stressed, so a bit of light-hearted spoofery seems apposite. It was cute enough that I’m willing to forgive Harvin (whom I assume put it on the News tab) for bringing this wee bit of awareness of Soulja Boy in to my world; I was proud of the fact that I had never heard “Crank Dat”, but for you excessively mustachioed kids, I’ll make this very good exception. Oh, who am I kidding. My motive for posting this was zimble—after you watch, I will not be the only one who has the words I used for my title STUCK IN THEIR HEAD all day.

With Mango Jooooooooose,

a

 
 
Somewhere a Goth is like, totally jealous.

A gravely unique story out of AhmEdabad (I can’t hear you groaning, so ha!): cafe culture.jpg

In India, death is a part of life — and, at one restaurant in western India, a part of lunch. The bustling New Lucky Restaurant in Ahmadabad Ahmedabad is famous for its milky tea, its buttery rolls, and the graves between the tables.
It’s a spot where old men page through newspapers and argue politics in the morning while young couples share candlelit meals and hold hands at night. That the candles sit atop graves only adds to the ambiance.
Krishan Kutti Nair has helped run the restaurant built over a centuries-old Muslim cemetery for close to four decades, but he doesn’t know who is buried in the cafe floor. Customers seem to like the graves, which resemble small cement coffins, and that’s enough for him.

Sure, the customers like it…unlike me, they are apparently not haunted by MJ’s Thriller video! Anyway, trust a desi to bring it all back to auspiciousness:

“The graveyard is good luck,” Nair said one recent afternoon after the lunch rush. “Our business is better because of the graveyard.”
The graves are painted green, stand about shin high, and every day the manager decorates each of them with a single dried flower. They’re scattered randomly across the restaurant — one up front next to the cash register, three in the middle next to a table for two, four along the wall near the kitchen.

I think business is good because the waiters seem fantastic:

The waiters know the floor plan like a bus driver knows his route, and they’ve mastered the delicate dance of shimmying between graves with a tray of hot tea in each hand.
“We’re used to it,” said waiter Kayyum Sheikh. “There’s nothing odd about it.”
 
 
Headlines I'd Like To See

Musharraf Resigns, Narendra Modi to Replace Him

Advani Resigns BJP, Plans To Take Up Gardening, Play With "Wii"

Vikram Pandit, Enthusiastic About New Job, Changes Name to "CitiPandit"

New Citigroup CEO Demands Subordinates Address Him as "Panditji"

Sources: Dem Anti-Outsourcing Campaign Outsourced to India

Indian American Athlete Wins Heisman Trophy

Impoverished By Writer's Strike, Simpsons' "Apu" Returns to India For Good

Rushdie Marries Older Woman, Adopts Large-Nosed Infant Named "Saleem"

Sonia Gandhi Disowns Rahul and Priyanka; Monica Bellucci To Join Cong.


(Feel free to add your own, or spin off/tweak one of the above.)
 
 
 
Rest in peace, young Desi, there's a heaven for a G...

NOOOOOOO!.gif

If the pop culture ref I used for my title didn’t float your yacht, try this one from tipster Raj, who single-handedly ruined my afternoon by sending us the bad news:

“Oh my God !! They killed Asok, you Bastards!!”

A moment of silence, please, for the adorable, paavam*, wide-eyed IIT alum who will no longer be available for scapegoating and abuse. Wait a second…maybe he’s better off away from Wally, the Pointy-haired Boss and everyone else he (got) worked (over) by.

Asok (pronounced “a-shook”) is an intern in the Dilbert comic strip. He is a brilliant graduate from the Indian Institute of Technology…Asok often solves difficult problems in a few keystrokes, but he is still naïve to the cruelties and politics of the business world. As a result, he often ends up being the scapegoat for his coworkers’ antics. Despite many years as an intern, and performing the functions of a senior engineer, Asok has been denied permission to be a regular employee and the usage of company resources for his work.
It has been mentioned that Asok once lived in the handicapped stall of the bathroom; he later moved to a storage facility (but was only allowed an hour leave for moving by the Pointy-Haired Boss). Asok is also trained to sleep only on national holidays, a trait that he allegedly carried over from his alma mater. In addition, he was trained during his time at the Indian Institute of Technology in telekinesis, using it once to vaporize an obnoxious Texan and more recently to stealthily steal donuts in a meeting, and remove asbestos from the office. As well, he has mentioned that he has the ability to reheat his tea by holding a cup to his forehead and think about fire. Asok appears to be a fan of Indian music: in the animated episode “Art” he is shown listening enthusiastically to a female vocalist singing in Hindi. Recently, the Pointy-Haired Boss announced that Asok died while on a test of a moon shuttle prototype. Asok had planned to reincarnate into his clone, unfortunately Carol had used the jar containing his DNA as a candy jar. It is not known how Asok will return. [viki]

If you are one of the three people reading this post who has not been exposed to the charm of Asok, read on:

Asok: You can use my key to open the box with its teeth.

Dilbert: To open this box I’ll need something stronger than a key.

 
 
Further Proof That Bharath Obama is so Desi.

Between the snow, the looming holidays, sundry drama and Keeping up with the Kardashians marathons, it’s gettin’, it’s gettin’, it’s gettin kinda hectic these days. It’s been heavy in addition to hectic, depending on which thread you’ve been marinating in (despite Abhi’s heroically adorable post about every college male’s dream sitch). Time for some high jinks and hilarity, I say.

The link to this wideo has been sent to me so many times, all that copying, pasting and emailing should be put to good use, right? Who cares. You’re gettin’ some Bharath und Bollywood, whether you want some or not. Don’t blame me, blame SAFO; this concoction has the manicured fingerprints of those over-educated hipster doofuses all over it.

If this mesmerizing mash up doesn’t inspire you to…um…do…something, then perhaps the crushing pressure of high expectations will— soon after Denton-offspring Wonkette posted this vid, a commenter thither wondered what we were thinking, here at Sepia Mutiny. Don’t disappoint everyone now— it’s bad enough that you didn’t go to med school, you sepia slacker. What’s that? Oh. Well if you did go to med school, it’s bad enough that it was overseas. And if you…ad absurdum.

 
 
Like a kid in a candy store

Does stuff like this happen in real life? I thought these scenarios only played out in mid-summer B-movie comedies. From the Globe:

To many women, he is simply “the boy.” They know who he is, even if they do not know his name. They know his story, even if they have never spoken to him.
more stories like this

In the small, all-female world of Wellesley College, Mohammad Usman is famous in this way. He is literally a man among women - about 2,300 women. Usman, 19, is the only man attending Wellesley College this fall.

“A lot of people don’t know his name, really,” said Johanna Peace, a Wellesley junior and the editor-in-chief of the student newspaper, the Wellesley News. “They’re aware that there’s a boy on campus. And if they see him, they’ll say, ‘Oh - there’s the boy.’ “

The boy in question has been living in a dormitory on campus since September, showering in his private bathroom, and, perhaps predictably, becoming something of a folk hero among his male friends. [Link]

You got that? He’s becoming a folk hero. Desis have arrived when some of us begin to achieve folk hero status. So what is it about Usman that let the Wellesley administration let this rooster in the hen house? They actually have an exchange program. Some people want to be exchanged to a foreign school. Those people are stupid. Why go abroad to meet a cute Euro/Australian/South American girl for the summer when you could attend an all-girl school (with more favorable odds) right here?

He wanted to come for the educational experience. (And the women.) He was looking forward to living near Boston. (And lots of women.) To him, this was a chance of a lifetime.

“I thought it would be really fascinating to be the only male at an all-women’s college,” said Usman…

I want to try new things, and the greatest part of a liberal-arts education is experiencing a wide variety of things. It’s important to me to get the most of my 50 Gs…” [Link]

Brother, we all want to try new things and get the most. I admire your educational ambitions. Once more we are the model minority. But…what do your parents think?

Usman, the fourth child of Pakistani immigrants who own a variety store in the Bronx, enrolled at Wellesley for the fall semester like everyone else. His parents, who dropped him off on campus, were surprised to see so many women, mostly because Usman had failed to tell them that Wellesley was a women’s college. [Link]
 
 
 
What Vivek would really say

Those of you who use gmail and gchat will have seen the news that gchat has gone from monogamous chatting only to full on orgy mode:

Guess who’s coming to dinner?

My reaction to this news is that it’s about time! Not the move to group chat, but the use of Vivek in an example. I mean, if you go into one of the many googleplex fine dining establishments and holler “Yo - Vivek!” you know how many people would turn around? So what took Google so long?

Of course, if they’re going for versimilitude here, Vivek would probably not be going camping with Todd (not unless they were a couple) but instead with a truckload of other desis, especially if Vivek is an IBD. The example should really say something like “Group chat - so 10 desi couples can coordinate their camping plans!” The chat would show people discussing who was bringing the dal, who was bringing the chaval, how many kinds of pickles were necessary for an overnight camping trip, whether a pressure cooker will work over a campfire, etc.

Actually, on second thought, I think we’re better off with the example provided. I don’t think even Google’s mighty servers could survive the surge in load from brown people going camping alone, not to mention brown people coordinating movies, dinners, or weddings. Back to Todd and Vivek it is.

 
 
The Full Mushy, or The President Has No Clothes

Over the past few weeks, a number of prominent people have called for Pervez Musharraf to “take off his uniform”:

“The President will call on President Musharraf to take off the uniform as he said he would do.” – Dana Perino, White House spokeswoman, Nov. 5

‘’My message was that we believe strongly in elections, and that you ought to have elections soon, and you need to take off your uniform.’’ – President Bush, Nov. 7

“He was willing to take off the uniform, he said, and have a civilian government.” – Former Senator Fred Thomspon, “Meet the Press,” Nov. 4

“The overarching concern is making sure President Musharraf takes off his uniform and holds elections as soon as possible,” – Geoff Morell, Pentagon spokesman, Nov. 13

“Who cares if General Musharraf takes off his uniform? It’s time for him to go.” – Representative Dana Rohrabacher, Republican of California, Nov. 7 (source)

It’s highly tempting to read all these people demanding that Musharraf take off his uniform slightly… against the grain?

On the one hand, it makes me think of this; only too obvious.

On the other, I can’t also help but think of the French philosopher Roland Barthes, who wrote a famous essay on the art of the striptease (and how it implicates the spectator) in 1957:

It is only the time taken in shedding clothes which makes voyeurs of the public; but here, as in any mystifying spectacle, the decor, the props and the stereotypes intervene to contradict the initially provocative intention and eventually bury it in insignificance: evil is advertised the better to impede and exorcize it. French striptease [and Pakistani politics] seems to stem from what I have earlier called ‘Operation Margarine’, a mystifying device which consists in inoculating the public with a touch of evil, the better to plunge it afterwards into a permanently immune Moral Good: a few particles of eroticism, highlighted by the very situation on which the show is based, are in fact absorbed in a reassuring ritual which negates the flesh as surely as the vaccine or the taboo circumscribe and control the illness or the crime. (link)

(Anyone else have Musharraf jokes… or references to French theory… to share?)

 
 
 
The first desi in the Oval Office?

Relax, this post has nothing to do with Bobby Jindal. Banish the thought and just bear with me for a moment. Last week, after one of the candidates I was eyeing as the potential recipient of my vote made a monumental policy blunder (which made me question everything about this candidate), I started giving a closer look to another candidate who had more sensible and educated things to say on the same issue. And that is when I decided that it was finally time (after months of my teenage-like infatuation where I contemplated the perfect post that might get her to take notice of me) to write about an awesome potential development that would take place IF Hillary Clinton goes on to win the White House. I’m talking about that goddess beautiful and capable assistant of hers, Huma Abedin. Huma currently serves as Clinton’s “body man,” similar to the character of Charlie on the show The West Wing. If she doesn’t go on to become the Chief of Staff, she would certainly remain one of Clinton’s closest advisors, with daily access to the Oval Office. From an article I first read in April:

Last June, under an oppressive sun, at a rally to save the Niagara military base at the University of Buffalo, all of New York’s top politicians—George Pataki, Chuck Schumer, Hillary Clinton—poured sweat.

Yet there was exactly one member of the wilting delegation who managed, somehow, to stay cool: Hillary Clinton’s mysterious, glamorous and eerily unflappable aide de camp, Huma Abedin.

“It was like 110 degrees outside,” recalled the source, a political aide who asked to remain anonymous. “We were all just pouring down with sweat. But I have this distinct memory of Huma traipsing in in this blue pantsuit—it was like this wool pantsuit—not a bead of sweat on her brow, not a hair out of place, with everything perfectly organized in her Yves Saint Laurent handbag.”

That sort of fantastical, supernaturally tinged tale is not unusual. Indeed, in the insular world of New York and D.C. politics, Huma Abedin has become a sort of mythical figure. [Link]

Huma was born in Michigan to an Indian father and a Pakistani mother. She interned at the White House in the mid-90s and graduated from GW. If she goes on to become Chief of Staff it is entirely possible that she could broker a lasting peace in South Asia by helping to end the Kashmiri conflict. I’m just saying, if I was at the negotiation table I’d commit to any concession she proposed. Let’s give peace a chance.

“I think she has special powers,” said public-radio broadcaster Katia Dunn, who recently crossed paths with Ms. Abedin and Mrs. Clinton at a café on Capitol Hill.

Ms. Dunn explained that she had heard about the “cult of Huma,” but had never met her. “All of a sudden, I turn around and there was this woman I now know to be Huma. And it wasn’t just that she was gorgeous—she did just sort of have this presence. She stopped me in my tracks for a second…” [Link]

 
 
Toys for young mutineers (or you)
Kids these days just have it so much better (note: use of this phrase indicates Abhi’s advanced age an increasing irrelevance to our youngest readers). When I was young we didn’t have that many ethnocentric toys to choose from around the holidays. All I really wanted for Christmas was a Destro. I mean, a grenade necklace is just cool (not that I believe that children should be exposed to toys that glorify terrorist networks such as COBRA, which sought to undermine U.S. military policy around the world).

Today, companies like Kridana.com are selling bad-ass Hanuman action figures like the one above. This isn’t your father’s Hanuman. This one looks like a professional triathlete/MMA Fighter. There are two types of parents that would buy a toy like this for their child. The first is the young, second-generation couple that is worried that they aren’t doing enough to familiarize their child with their religious Hindu roots. It would be bad if Hinduism became irrelevant to the next generation so Hanuman, and similar action figures, can serve as a good stop-gap measure. The other kind of parent (the kind that I one day hope to be) would buy this for themselves. Check it out, here is the scenario. You could buy the Hanuman above and also a barrel of monkeys. Then you could pretend that Hanuman was a great general and that under his leadership the barrel of monkeys were able to sweep forth and stem the tide of evil monkey attacks currently taking place in Indian cities like Delhi. The people of India would be grateful and a beautiful woman would fall for him (not just because of his muscles but because of his virtue, good soul, and leadership abilities). Speaking of which, I have to hit up the gym.

Does anyone else think that Hanuman looks a bit like a brown Panthro?

 
 
 
How to map Muslims and find the best falafels

A couple of diabolically ingenious (or phenomenally stupid) plans have been recently reported on in the media, both plans intended to ascertain where American Muslims be hanging out (so as to keep tabs on the potential terrorists hiding among them). The first was Los Angeles’ Muslim Mapping Project. At first I assumed that the LAPD intended to map the spread of Islam in the world since the birth of Muhammad…but then I realized that the department probably doesn’t employ many history or religion PhDs. “Muslim Mapping” must mean something else. Here is an excerpt from the LAPD officer who briefed the Senate Committee on Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs (headed by Joe Lieberman):

“In order to give our officers increased awareness of our local Muslim communities, the LAPD recently launched an initiative with an academic institution to conduct an extensive “community mapping” project. We are also soliciting input of local Muslim groups, so the process can be transparent and inclusive. While this project will lay out the geographic locations of the many different Muslim population groups around Los Angeles, we also intend to take a deeper look at their history, demographics, language, culture, ethnic breakdown, socio-economic status, and social interactions. It is our hope to identify communities, within the larger Muslim community, which may be susceptible to violent ideologically-based extremism and then use a full-spectrum approach guided by an intelligence-led strategy…” [Link]

“We want to know where the Pakistanis, Iranians and Chechens are so we can reach out to those communities,” LAPD Deputy Chief Michael P. Downing was quoted by CBS news as saying Thursday. [Link]

This plan actually makes a lot of sense to me (and doesn’t Downing seem downright neighborly?). It would be much too difficult to move all the Muslims into ghettos with well-defined boundaries. I don’t think Homeland Security has that kind of budget (yet). Why not use GIS data and other high tech strategies to simply make a virtual map of Muslims? I mean, Google Map already has overlays for satellite imagery, traffic, and street view. It wouldn’t be hard for Google to simply add a “Muslim neighborhoods” overlay to their GoogleMaps would it?

We have learned that Muslim communities in the U.S. are mistrustful of the mainstream media. Therefore, they may turn to other sources of information for news and socialization, such as the Internet. Unfortunately, despite all of the positive aspects of the Internet, it allows those individuals and groups with ideological agendas to easily make contact with like-minded individuals and access potentially destructive information. [Link]

Holy crap. I know that Muslims read our site and socialize here with like-minded individuals through comments. Despite the fact that I like this plan I hope we aren’t getting mapped as well.

 
 
Just Your Typical, Slightly Snarky Arranged Marriage Post

A column (thanks, Fuerza Dulce) from the women’s magazine Marie-Claire on Anjali Mansukhani’s enthusiasm for arranged marriages (including her own), didn’t really start in what seemed like the best possible way:

By age 26, after attending more than 150 weddings, I was fast approaching my “expiration date.” (link)

“Expiration date” at age 26? That’s pretty young; personally, I think women get “expired” these days at around 27 or 28…

But it gets so much better. Anjali, a Bombayite, meets a guy who seems like Mr. Right — a New York based banker — and moves to his 40th story Manhattan apartment after three dates (and a marriage). Life there is blissfully happy:

While I craved privacy in India, the lack of neighbors and family dropping in left a shocking void every day as I ate breakfast and lunch alone. My husband worked late most evenings, and I sat in front of the TV, unable to call home because it would be 2 a.m. there.

After a few weeks, I learned that I’d married a “jetrosexual.” He had an exhausting travel schedule (four cities in four days). I joined the ranks of corporate wives who saw every show, opera, and ballet in town, just to fill the hours.

To make friends, I joined a gym, went to the library, and took Italian classes. I discovered that having an arranged marriage was a great icebreaker, and my social circle mushroomed each time I retold my story.

Marriage, I soon learned, wasn’t easy — especially to a modern man. My husband had acquired a mistress, and her name was BlackBerry. She had the power to stop discussions midsentence, her red signal lighting up his face in the way I only dreamed of doing. (link)

Such happiness. It really brightens your day.

Off to a great start, no doubt. But Anjali’s new life really takes off when she learns to name-drop consumer goods and lifestyle choices like a professional New Yorker:

As peers in India opted for motherhood and worked on post-baby waistlines, I took Spinning and pole dancing at the gym to work off exotic dinners of sweetbreads, foie gras, chocolate mousse. After reading about America’s obsession with Venti decaf skim mochas, I went to try one — but came back instead with a spiced chai latte. Amazingly, Starbucks was providing my childhood drink on every corner.

I found a job as a financial consultant. The New York Times in one hand, coffee in the other, I realized that my saris of bright pink, violet, and salmon were not exactly subway wear. Quickly, I succumbed to Levi’s and Ralph Lauren.

I started to realize that I just might have the best of both worlds. I marinated my Indian marriage in the flavors of Manhattan. I kept the sari and bought the Jimmy Choos. I made fabulous curries, seasoned with spices from Dean & Deluca. And after months of enjoying decidedly non-Indian experiences of seders, Saks, and sake, I felt confident enough to direct Indian guests to a hotel, occasionally throwing in a MetroCard.

I’m not hating, really I’m not. In fact, I’m thrilled she’s so happy — with those Jimmy Choos that she got from Bloomie’s, drinking Chai Tea Latte at Starbucks (which is just like the Chai in India, isn’t it?), before her pole-dancing class, where she’ll burn off the foie gras from the night before. Arranged marriage can be great that way.

 
 
More on CW's "Aliens in America"

I know SM is rightly consumed with a different Musharraf, but all this talk about Mushie reminded me of CW’s Aliens in America, which, for those of you who don’t recall, is a new television sitcom featuring a protagonist named Raja Musharaff. I loved the pilot but many of you, my bunker-mate Amardeep included, were all “eh”.

Well, ahem. Salon’s Heather Havrilesky likes AiA, too. Take that, pooh-pooers. ;)

From yesterday’s Salon’s guide to what to watch:

God is allergic to Jell-O. Most cats show a preference for the color orange. There’s a very funny comedy that you’re not watching, and it’s on the CW. Which one of these statements is true? Amazingly enough, the CW’s Aliens in America” (8:30 p.m. EST Mondays) is not only consistently funny, it’s also charming and absurd and addictive, setting it miles apart from the CW’s typical herd of superpowered teenage hotties. The story of a Pakistani exchange student named Raja who goes to live with an average family in a small town in Wisconsin could have landed in unreasonably dorky territory. Instead, the show’s writers have churned out a steady stream of seriously clever scripts, dense with absurd jokes and memorable moments, making “Aliens in America” feel more like a modern, snappy update on a John Hughes film. The dorky Midwestern Tolchuck family is pitch perfect, but the big star here is Adhir Kalyan, whose spot-on performance as the hopelessly earnest and morally upright Raja is responsible for the show’s most hilarious moments. (You can watch one of the best recent episodes, “Rocket Club,” here.) [kumquat]

I think Adhir Kalyan is kinda funny:

One writer asked Kalyan if he experienced culture shock, coming to the U.S. from South Africa. His reply: “In truth, the only thing I found difficult to deal with coming to the States is the size of the portions of food. Really — I mean, really, do we need portions that are that big? I mean, Africa doesn’t need Bono. Africa doesn’t need Geldof. Africa needs a Denny’s grand-slam breakfast.” [mangosteen]

From the same link:

You’ll get a bit of a “Freaks and Geeks”/”Wonder Years” vibe from “Aliens,” though it has a way to go to imitate the pure heart of those classics.

See, I totally think it has heart. While I haven’t gone out of my way to catch every episode (I’m usually getting home bang in the middle of the program, and I hate cutting in…and yes, I know, I am the only mutineer sans TiVo), I was able to see last night’s Aliens and I was reminded of how cute it was. I was smiling for thirty minutes. The show is totes sweet.

I stand by my initial positivity towards one of CW’s finest, especially after last night’s special guest star— the hoochie-rific Homecoming dress— almost stole the show. If popular little sister Claire knew what her Mom did while trying it on, I doubt that she would have pitched that tantrum about returning it. ;) Also, it takes a non-trivial amount of talent to keep those multiple, “mandatory” tags crease-free while being so…um…active; every girl here who has purchased a prom dress/formal/bridesmaid outfit knows exactly what I mean.

Have any of you kept up with it or caught something beyond the pilot? Has Raja won you over or are you still not sold?

 
 
 
In search of the great Indian-American gangster flick

I was at this bar on Friday night and as I ordered my drink I noticed that American Gangster (which came out on Friday) was playing on every television in the joint, including the one behind the bartender. Is video piracy really this rampant? Anyways, the rest of the night I tried to not watch so I could see it in its entirety next weekend. Flash forward to Saturday morning. I was sitting on my couch scratching myself and all of a sudden I thought, “What happened to that smokin’ Piper Perabo from the movie Coyote Ugly? I mean, come on! There has got to be a way to get her back into some film. So I looked her up on IMDB and noted that she will be co-starring in a movie called Ashes which comes out next year. And THAT is where this rambling story finally finds its desi angle:

ASHES follows the story of two brothers from the inner city whose lives are unraveling. As one plummets deeper into mental illness, the other, Ashes, copes by throwing himself into the dangerous New York underworld. Ashes is torn between the family he is responsible for, and the community that consumes him. [Link]

Sepia Mutiny is currently trying to determine if the above drug use was prescribed by Doc 420

Click on the above image for the trailer. The film is directed by and stars Ajay Naidu of Office Space fame as the title character. All I can say is that it is about time there is an Indian American Gangsta film. I mean, the Cubans had Scarface, the Italians had The Godfather, African American’s have Denzel in American Gangter mentioned above. Why the hell has it taken THIS long for a story about the Indian American gangster experience that most of our readers have had at least minor brushes with? I know some of our readers will point to Maqbool as good Indian Gangter film but I ask you, if The Godfather had been only about Don Corleone’s time in Sicily would it be as relevant to Italian Americans? I didn’t think so. And so I eagerly await Naidu’s Ashes. It might finally take the “model” out of our minority. Plus Piper Perabo will be in it.

 
 
Making the most of Halloween

Think about it. Once a year a bunch of impressionable young children come to your door and give you their undivided attention. This presents the PERFECT opportunity to proselytise. It’s like a reverse Jehovah’s Witness-type situation. While many of the world’s other religions are clever enough to take advantage of this amazing opportunity, Hindus are left behind (mostly due to a lack of creativity it seems). Beliefnet has a great feature that gives us a tasty sampler of some of the divine candy out there, and also provides us insight into why Hinduism faces an uphill battle when it comes to creating converts of the young:

First up is the Christian “Scripture Candy:”

Once you pop, you can’t stop! These scripture-wrapped mints are downright addictive. Not too minty, yet soft enough to melt in your mouth. According to the maker, these mints were created to turn “a pagan holiday into something to glorify God…” [Link]

Why can’t someone make candy with Gita passages?

Next we have Star of David pops:

I’d eat a chocolate Hanuman pop if it existed. I’m just sayin’.

 
 
Why This Man is Special

radhakant-bajpai.jpg

His name is Radhakant Bajpai, and he lives in a town called Naya Ganj in India.

Find out why he is special after the jump.

 
 
Desi Hipster Olympics -- Blegging for Ideas

Blogger Zen Denizen has a post with the following idea:

My next project will be creating and hosting the Desi Hipster Olympics. I’ll post a tip on our favorite kill whitey group blog and let the games begin (or not). Categories to include: Kitschiest classic Bollywood references, best misappropriation of afrocentric or other suitable third world imagery for supposed desi struggles and most ironic use of a kurta. (link)

First of all, I want to say that if Zen is talking about SM I am truly honored we are her favorite “kill whitey” group blog. There is a lot of competition out there, and I’m glad to finally get some recognition. That said, I think it’s a great idea, though I suspect we could add to and/or adjust Zen’s proposed categories before proceeding to actually initiate some kind of meta-desi, pseudo-secular, indo-ironic competition. (I have never done anything very ironic with a kurta, for instance, other than perhaps actually ironing it.)

Readers, what would be good categories for a desi hipster olympics? Secondly, if you wish to prove your own hipness you are now welcome to begin doing so, though you should be warned that it’s always possible that an even hipper desi will come along and point out how passé your knowledge of retro-Bollywood cultural trivia, present-day underground desi musicians and writers, and quasi-desi fusion fashion actually is.

Obviously I’m at a huge disadvantage here in terms of my own personal hipness, being over 30 (bo-ring!), and living in suburban Philadelphia (so, so far from Brooklyn). The best I can offer this morning is the following short video, which does in fact feature a kurta and may also possibly be interpreted ironically. (I have to admit I grabbed it from Manish’s news tab):

And I mean it from the bottom of my heart.

 
 
 
Who Ya Gonna call?

CIAterrorlogo.jpg

Oh my god. I’m speechless, have no words, and my brain just froze. So pardon my terrible blogger protocol in just copying over from Wonkette.com:

The CIA has inexplicably come up with a logo for the “Terrorist Buster,” some sort of imaginary Christian cheerleader representing the DCI Counterterrorist Center. Take a better look at the logo, realize that this is actually happening, and then continue reading. We’ll wait for you. [Pause]. Ready?

THIS IS AN OFFICIAL GOVERNMENT LOGO?!

This is not a joke. I can’t believe this is not a joke. The CIA really did create a logo for a “Terrorist Buster” (who the hell would that be anyway? Is this related to those “If you see something, say something” campaigns? Does a counterterrorist center really need a logo? If yes, then THAT?!) and unveiled the logo on the official CIA website. Go see for yourself at www.cia.gov

As Wonkette goes on to point out, the logo looks like some mad, racist twisted version of the logo (after the jump) from the Ghostbusters movie. Goddamn. What would Peter Venkman say??

 
 
I know what I'm going to be for Halloween!

Thoughtful readers NKN and Daniel sent in this delightful wideo and we are all smilier for it. It’s catchy! Err…wait, I think it’s supposed to prevent that…

Achtung, babies: it is NSFW, especially if you work with Telugu people. ;) Otherwise, it seems so innocent, the stars of the clip reminded me of Boobah or the Teletubbies…well, until they get to the graphically illustrated part about gay sex. But we won’t go there! I mean, hasn’t Tinky Winky endured enough?

Now sing it with me one time, “I am sealed with lubricant!” Ah, this song is going to be in my head, all day. Happy Monday to all and to all, check the manufacturing date.

P.S. The next time you’re blue (heh), make like our dancing friend Nirodh and tell yourself, “Turn a deaf ear to others, I am very good.” I know I will!

 
 
On Feeling *Extra* Brown This Afternoon

After finally deciphering and then completing the most challenging assignment I’ve had yet, I grabbed my badge and headed out. I wanted to take a little walk…I deserved to…I was done two hours before I expected to be and I felt a tiny sense of “Victory is mine!” because of it. Since I had skipped lunch, now was the perfect time to get some fresh air (and look for turning leaves). Once outside, I realized that today was the the day for our weekly Farmer’s Market. This made me mindful of how there were a finite number of Thursdays left before the weather would end the charming gathering of, oh, all of a dozen artisans and farmers, and that made me determined to appreciate everything even more. Excessive positivity (and the relief which blissfully arrives after meeting a deadline) inspired my lame ankle to try for whatever spring in my step I could muster. This was going to be nice.he gets my love jones for the cookie.jpg

I wasn’t looking for groceries, I was in search of a treat. I immediately recognized one when I saw a baker and his assistant arranging a decadent array of breads, scones, brownies, muffins and best of all…cookies. If I could list “home-made cookies” under my interests, I would. “C is for cookie, that’s good enough for me”, indeed. I spotted apple cinnamon, oatmeal raisin…then a few dozen peanut butter appeared…and then something which I couldn’t visually place, it was darker than the PB and didn’t have nuts dotting its smooth surface like so many allergy-inducing polka dots. Chocolate chip, my favorite hadn’t been unloaded yet. I smiled at the three women who were crowding the stand, impatient for the official start of the market. Oh yes, I’m not joking— you cannot sell anything until it is exactly 3pm and a bell has been rung. It’s a fair and thus lovely thing, apparently.

While the three, a duo and a single milled between me and those delectable baked petit morts, I observed the women as they observed the baker. Two were old enough to be my grandmother, and one of them had beautiful skin, bright reddish-orange lipstick and very pretty hair. She was so arresting, I couldn’t even look at the other two. I was fascinated, thinking silly AnnaThoughts like “I wonder what moisturizer she uses” and “I bet she wears lots of hats”. I was so transfixed, I almost missed what was occurring directly in front of us. Almost. Thanks to being perpetually high-strung, even things in my peripheral vision cause me to swivel and investigate, so that’s what commenced my micro-Monk-like-adventure: the gesture I saw, which I wish I hadn’t, while I was looking elsewhere.

 
 
Help Me Sing It, Ma Ma Se, Ma Ma Sa, Ma Ma Coo Sa

sooo much chocolate.jpg

When it comes to “hot fields of scientific research”, obviously desis are at the forefront of discovery and innovation; that’s not chauvinism, that’s just logic. Millions of brown people exist and a solid chunk of them are in science, so the odds are just stacked in our favor. But I digress. And there’s exciting stuff regarding Proteome Research to get to, so let’s get back on topic! [Via MSNBC]:

A small study links the type of bacteria living in people’s digestive system to a desire for chocolate. Everyone has a vast community of microbes in their guts. But people who crave daily chocolate show signs of having different colonies of bacteria than people who are immune to chocolate’s allure.
That may be the case for other foods, too. The idea could eventually lead to treating some types of obesity by changing the composition of the trillions of bacteria occupying the intestines and stomach, said Sunil Kochhar, co-author of the study. It appears Friday in the peer-reviewed Journal of Proteome Research.

This study isn’t biased at all:

Kochhar is in charge of metabolism research at the Nestle Research Center in Lausanne, Switzerland. The food conglomerate Nestle SA paid for the study. But this isn’t part of an effort to convert a few to the dark (or even milk) side of cocoa, Kocchar said.

Here’s my favorite part of the study:

In fact, the study was delayed because it took a year for the researchers to find 11 men who don’t eat chocolate.

BWAH! In your face, people who think chocolate craving = pre-menstrual misery and weakness. MEN! They couldn’t find eleven MEN who don’t indulge.

Kochhar compared the blood and urine of those 11 men, who he jokingly called “weird” for their indifference to chocolate, to 11 similar men who ate chocolate daily. They were all healthy, not obese, and were fed the same food for five days.
The researchers examined the byproducts of metabolism in their blood and urine and found that a dozen substances were significantly different between the two groups. For example, the amino acid glycine was higher in chocolate lovers, while taurine (an active ingredient in energy drinks) was higher in people who didn’t eat chocolate. Also chocolate lovers had lower levels of the bad cholesterol, LDL.

That does it. I’m having red wine and Cadbury for dinner tonight. What to do? It’s the healthy choice.

The levels of several of the specific substances that were different in the two groups are known to be linked to different types of bacteria, Kochhar said.

They’re still not sure if it’s the bacteria that wants to be startin something, gots to be startin something or if diet affected the bacteria blah blah chicken egg.

How gut bacteria affect people is a hot field of scientific research.

I think my tummy is always warm, but that is based on highly unscientific rubbing of it, while attempting to pat my head simultaneously.

Wots this? A reference to my bellowed alma mater? GO AGS!

 
 
No Wonder We're One Billion Strong...and Growing

Any email which has Bowmp chika bowmp bowmp-Zindabad! for a subject line is guaranteed to be a good time. SM Reader “HappyNoNoPlace” didn’t disappoint with the content [Via TOI]:

Indians have emerged the third busiest love-makers in the world, with the most exciting and satisfied sex lives much like the Nigerians and Mexicans, who took first and second respectively in a global survey.

w00t team brown!! We’re number three! We’re number three! Wait a second…I’m remembering something. Oh, yes…this one time, when I was in high school, my father said, “Third? There’s a trophy for third? Third place means YOU LOST”, after a speech and debate tournament. What a halcyon childhood.

According to the Durex Global Sexual Wellbeing Survey, Indians have also emerged the most expressive lovers than most of their global counterparts while the Chinese made the shyest lovers.

Noooo, that’s incorrect and one swiffer of a sweeping generalization. You see, it’s just the Bengalis and Malayalees who can’t shut up. Ever.

Indians came third on the sex index with 61% of the respondents saying they were fully satisfied with their sex lives. Nigerians were the most satisfied at 67%, followed by Mexicans at 63%. Japanese at 15% are the least sexually fulfilled.

How is that final fact possible, when this fantastic thing exists [NSFW]?

The survey also indicated that nearly 74% of Indians don’t hesitate to tell their partners about their preferences in bed. The Chinese, on the contrary, emerged the coyest in the bedroom — as 44 per cent do not talk with partners on how they feel and what they like in bed.

Now if the following is not considered “synchronicity”, I don’t know what can be— last night’s rerun of SATC was the episode wherein Miranda is nonplussed by her special friend’s constant request that she be more vocal. Maybe the Chinese are like, the Mirandas of the world. Omigosh, they could all get that stupid tank top which states, “I’m a Miranda!”

The survey further showed that nearly 68% of Indians find their love lives stimulating, which is again higher as compared to 38% for English lovers and 36% for those living in France.

Again, I think this study is flawed. You see, the French cultivate that impressive ennui like it’s a cherished Kari Patta/Kari Bevu/Limda/Karivepaku/Karuveppila plant. Silly Durex! They should have probed more deeply.

In the sex frequency category, Indians again stood third, with 53% saying that they had sex as frequently and as often as they liked, trailing behind Nigeria and Mexico, with 58 and 56%.

Who says the news is always negative? More than half of India is gettin’ some. Isn’t that a happy way to start your weekend? Go forth, my brown brothers and sisters! Let us celebrate our third place standing (if that’s what works for you)!

 
 
 
The Caption Game: The "Surjeet-o Bandito" Edition

Hold on, let’s get this over with…

Okay, now that I’ve stood in the corner and thought about what I’ve done during my time-out, I half-heartedly apologize for being so insensitive as to vaguely reference a politically incorrect, wayyy-before-your…and-really-my time cartoon character/mascot.

My bad. If it helps, it’s a rather obscure ref and I did change the “first name” to something browner (shout out to my friend Surjeet, who is sure to be THRILLED about this). Anyfoo. cricketers before one-day vs australia.jpg Monday came and went, with nary a caption game in sight; I blame you. What, on top of everything else in my disorganized, estrogen-powered day, I need to discover non-existent time with which to ferret out funny pictures?

Wait, what?

I do? Meh.

Well, if we’re relying on ME, then prepare for tardy everything (including me). I saw this on the BBC website yesterday and that is why we have an uber-late* CG today, which is THURSDAY for those who are either hung-over, a disciple of Rip Van Winkle or too confused to keep count.

So, now that you’ve seen the amusing picture, kindly be doing what some of you do best— caption away. Why should you expend such effort? Because a photograph like that deserves more than this (you know there’s no-o-o-othing):

Indian cricketers pose with turbans, before a one-day international against Australia. [Beeb]

Perplexed? Bemused? Constipated? Consider previous editions of the Caption Game, awailable for procrastinating purposes here: éka, dvá, trí, catúr, páñca, s.as., saptá , as.tá, náva

 
 
Needed: Accent Training For ABD Actors and Comedians

Periodically, we see stories about how folks in India involved in the global economy are taking accent classes to work on their English accents. Thomas Friedman wrote about the accent training many call-center workers undergo in The World is Flat. And today there was a typically fluffy piece in The Times of India about people who work on “regional” accent-training within India.

But it seems to me there hasn’t been enough coverage of accent problems that go the other way around. Watching Aliens in America the other night, it occurred to me that ABD actors and comedians who play immigrants in comic roles in Hollywood sometimes need their own accent training. You wouldn’t expect it, but most ABDs can’t really do a perfect Indian English accent. It’s either overdone (too musical), or inconsistent (those American ‘D’ and ‘T’ sounds creep in at telltale moments, as do those flat American ‘A’ and ‘E’ sounds) — or both. Adhir Kalyan doesn’t have many obvious flaws, though in my view something isn’t quite right with his accent (check it out at 1:45-2:00 in this clip). Kal Penn’s “Taj Mahal Badalandabad” character in Van Wilder has an accent that I find more convincing (see this clip), and it becomes funny when he says things that are particularly obscene or outrageous (as he does in that somewhat NSFW clip). And Russel Peters is quite good — accents are his particular strength. But there’s a host of lesser-known actors and stand-up comedians in parentally-financed movies like American Desi (and its various clones and imitations), who sound like they learned their Indian accents from Apu on The Simpsons, rather than real Indians.

Somehow Brit-Asian actors don’t seem to have this problem. The accents on Goodness Gracious Me and The Kumars at No. 42 always sound perfect to me. Why is that?

At any rate, I’m hereby calling for an accent-accentuation school for aspiring ABD actors and comedians trying to get a break in Hollywood. The staff, incidentally, will be entirely composed of Indian call center workers fired because their accents were too thick (or indeed, too regional). Classes will be held exclusively via videoconference (the instructors, of course, will all be based in India).

 
 
 
Shah Jahan Kingsley

Following upon the stunning artistic and commercial success of “The Last Legion” (1, 2, UB40), co-stars Sir Ben and Aishwarya Rai Bachchan have agreed to team up again, this time as Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal. Colin Firth is rumored to be considering the role of Aurangzeb .

My fans will watch me in anything because I am TMBWITW

The casting of Sir Ben is, in my mind, absolutely perfect. Shah Jahan’s marriage to Mumtaz at 19 has become a symbol of eternal love. Sir Ben also is a man who never stopped believing in love, having married his fourth wife at age 63, after the following:

“three failed marriages, four children by two different wives, a long-term live-in lover who was replaced by wife No 3 (also nearly half his age), whom he then jettisoned after discovering her embracing her lover in a photograph on the internet in 2005.” [Link]

Shah Jahan built a giant marble tomb to house his wife’s remains, as if she was a figure from ancient Egypt. Sir Ben feels the same way about wife #4:

“Daniela is like an ancient mythological princess. She has great deep dignity. She moves like an ocean liner…” [Link]
 
 
Friend requests and other dilemmas

Writing over at Slate.com today, Reihan Salam breaks down a family of dilemmas that many of us are facing in this increasingly, “I need a cool profile” world:

Last week, I launched the Great Facebook Purge of 2007. In one fell swoop, I whittled down a list of 274 “friends” to a more manageable … um, 258. Even weeding out this tiny amount of people was difficult and unpleasant. Almost every subtraction made me wince. While my intention had been to de-friend every hanger-on and casual acquaintance, I just couldn’t do it. All I could stomach is eliminating everyone I’ve literally never met in my life. I still have three “friends” I know only via e-mail, though given that we’re firmly in the Digital Age, I figure this is acceptable. [Link]

Anna wrote a bit about taking the plunge into Facebook a few weeks back and also mentioned that Sepia Mutiny now has its own group. Like everyone else, SM started with Friendster and then briefly flirted with the idea of that idiotic, EvErYoNe HeRe SpElLs LiKe ThIs, Myspace site. Now it seems Facebook is the place to be. For South Asian Americans, who still number only a few million strong in the United States, a profile of you is that much easier to dig out by anyone looking specifically for you, and therefore more relevant I would argue.

How do you decide whether it’s OK to friend someone?

After all, it’s always better to be the rejecter rather than the rejectee. I will now contradict myself: Friending strangers is permissible. If you are going to approach a stranger, don’t do it out of the blue. Never, ever send a random friend request without undergoing some preliminaries, such as trading a few wry observations. The beauty of this “Facebook foreplay,” to use an unfortunate analogy, is that you can always refuse to respond. [Link]

At this point I face a Hobbesian choice: either evolve or perish. After gathering just over 175 friends on Friendster, I woke up one recent morning to realize that I would have to start from scratch again, this time in a younger man/woman’s world. The pit that left in my stomach was unbearable. In this brave new world the men are funnier with their descriptions of themselves, and the women list themselves as Class of ‘07…just beyond my considerable reach. Then there are all the customized “plugins.” I have to list all my favorite bands and tell people all the countries in the world I’ve been to, etc. It’s hard enough picking up chicks at a bar. Now I have to worry whether my world map plugin is sufficiently full (which is why I already counted Guatemala even though I’m not going for another two months ;)

The problem is it doesn’t just stop at Facebook. There is also a social network for book lovers, one for business folks, and even one for your portly cat. When you come home you have to check them all to see if you are still relevant. Sartre would be able to write a masterpiece about this were he still alive. Ask yourselves this simple question: If you don’t have a profile, do you really exist? If I have a profile does it mean I’m just another one of the baying sheep? If I don’t have a profile that sufficiently distinguishes me, how will people know that I’m not a sheep?

But please, don’t let any of this useless pontificating dissuade you from befriending Sepia Mutiny, or me. Even baying sheep need friends.

 
 
 
The Caption Game: "Chak de India"-Edition

Harbhajan Singh.jpg If it’s Monday, you must be as hung-over…err… depressed…tired as I am— but wait! It’s a brand new week and surely there will be much fighting/gnashing of teeth/troll-feeding to do in the days ahead. Isn’t that daunting? Well, fret not, my pets.

The best thing about Mondays at the Mutiny is being able to play The Caption Game, a nice, easy warm-up for the week. You may not be able to touch your toes, but you can injure your funny bone trying to outwit Dravidian Lurker, MoorNam, PingPong et al. (Rahul…I’m pouring out some Old Monk for you, son. You are the missed.)

This picture, which was thoughtfully submitted by Jeet a few days ago (thanks!), is just pleading for a different label— look at what it’s been saddled with:

Harbhajan Singh’s joy is apparent as he catches Kevin Pietersen, England v India, Group E, ICC World Twenty20, Durban, September 19, 2007. [link]

Oh, come now. You mutineers can do better than that! Especially since the boys in blue have made some of you verrrry happy, right? :)

Confused?

Irritated?

Think this silliness is something new for the mutiny? How wrong you are, my sleepy friends. Lo, previous editions of the captioning game will prove that this isn’t a one-time timesuck: Ikk, Dhoe, Tinn, Char, Panj, Chhay, Suth, Utt

 
 
We wuz robbed!

In response to Abhi’s appeal from last year, there was a desi entrant in this year’s World Beard & Moustache Championships. Meet 30 year old Rundeep Singh, from the UK.

Can you believe Rundeep lost to Jack Passion (on the right) who took first place in the “natural beard” category? C’mon now - which is the better beard? What an outrageous call!

Heck, Rundeep Singh didn’t even place - this guy got second (for what is admittedly a very impressive beard) but this guy got third place. I dunno - neither the first nor third place winners seem as impressive to me as brother Rundeep.

What gives? Next time I want to see a desi who wins by more than a whisker .

 
 
How’s the fasting going?

Every year, at Ramadan, Hawk draws comics showing how his alter-ego is dealing with the challenges of fasting. These trippy comics are some of my favorites:

If you click on it, it’s the first in a sequence of Ramadan fasting themed strips.

Related posts: ‘Applegeeks’

 
 
Pirate or Marathi admiral?

Since today is International Talk Like A Pirate Day (y)aarr, I wanted to blog about Kanhoji Angre, an African-Indian who became the most powerful “pirate” of his era in the world:

Yaarrrrrr

Kanhoji … Angira[’s] …operations off the west coast of India developed into what was probably the most successful piracy endeavor of the 17th or 18th century. [Link]

He was the first pirate who dared to extort money from Indian and British shipping. In 1712 he seized the armed yacht of the East India Company’s governor and held it for a sizeable ransom. Several years later he repelled the British … using specially built gunships. His success drew pirates from India and Europe and by the 1720’s his captains commanded hundreds of well-armed vessels. By 1722 his repeated humiliations of the Company led to their cessation of attempts to destroy Kanhoji. [Link]

While Kanhoji is considered a pirate by the western world, he’s a national hero in India. The Indian Navy named a major naval base after him, and a memorial was due to be erected in his honor in Alibag. In the Indian narrative, he is “the great Admiral of Marathas,” Shivaji’s naval commander:

British historians have described Kanhoji Angre as a pirate, ignoring that he was appointed by the Maratha king. [Link]
 
 
But what will the community think?!

padma and russell simmons.JPG

Ah, Padma.

Padma, Padma, Padma.

Potentially Mallu (I thought you were TamBrahm!) beauty, accomplished author and Television ish-tar, you speak so uniquely and that takes some talent. What sort of talent, I haven’t a clue, but I’ll credit you anyway, because I’m fond of you like that.

A few years ago, you made every Desi man’s heart beat a little bit faster, from the joy of the improbable occurring; if a supermodel would marry an award-winning, uber-protective, “distinguished”-looking author, then everyone had hope (as long as they did something extraordinary. Or had a looooot of paisa). It was the ultimate Revenge fantasy and that’s exactly what it was, because the dream, it died. You and the man who defended your intellect, who insisted that you were being shortchanged by the focus on your outsides, you are…kaput.

So, what to do, except to follow the well-established mores of our culture. You don’t recall? I am happy to remind. Now comes the time when you cast your eyes downwards, marinate in the somber reality of failure and wait an appropriate time before you are back on the scene, the ultimate “Innocent Divorcee, no issue”. It is imperative that you be seen alone, that you not be photographed with strange men touching you, because if a potential groom from Madras or Bangalore sees that, chee, vat he vill think?

So it is paining me, Padma-akka (chechi?!) to see you emulate the controversial example of that Sarita Denzel Masala of Mississippi, especially since you chose to do that in the front row of the Marc Jacobs show, where everyone could see you! Aiyo! What’s the one thing your Amma told you, edi?

 
 
From Russia with Love

Yesterday I was hosting a meeting at work for some co-workers spread out across the country, including some high-level managers within my organization. My laptop was hooked up to project on to a screen in our conference room as well as wired to broadcast its contents out over the internet for the remote meeting participants. The mail program I use is Microsoft Outlook. As Outlook users are probably aware, when you get a new message a tiny box fades in at the bottom right hand corner of your screen that has the name of the sender and the subject line of the email (yes, I realize now I can turn it off). After about five seconds it fades back out. In the middle of the meeting, overlaid on top of the most important Powerpoint slide, popped up the following message notification:

From: Mona
Subject: a way to solve abhi’s girl problems…..

The blood rushed to my face and I think I went deaf for a few minutes after that.

So what was this article that was going to solve my “girl problems?” I wasn’t aware I needed any help.

Desperate to reverse a steep decline in their numbers, Russians are coming up with some bold ideas on how to overcome Russia’s demographic crisis.

A Russian feminist has proposed a radical solution to the falling birth rate — importing Indian bridegrooms for Russian girls. Maria Arbatova, writer and TV moderator, who married an Indian businessman a few years ago “after 25 years of keeping marrying Russians”, thinks Indian men make ideal husbands.

“They are crazy about their family and children,” she said presenting her new book, ‘Tasting India’, here. “What is more, Indians, like Russians, are Indo-Europeans, and many Sanskrit and Russian words have the same roots.”

Indian bridegrooms can help ward off a Chinese demographic invasion in Russia, says the feminist: “If we do not balance off the Chinese with Indians, Africans or aliens, by 2050 China will annex Russia’s Siberia up to the Ural Mountains…” [Link]

Was my friend right? Is this what I need?

 
 
This just in: CanAda doesn't care about Sikh people

Mmmm, snark:

Leger poll shows Sikhs are the least liked religion in Canada (liked by only 53% of Canadians). Jews are the most liked minority religion (78%), Muslims at 61%. No data on Christians, or on people who commission really stupid polls. [Ikram]

ennis.jpg

But what about Jewish Sikhs? Feh. Fresh from the News Tab, some meshugge story in the Montreal Gazette which deserves Ikram’s (and perhaps your) scorn; Canadians apparently respect Sikhs less than members of other religions, and the amount of contact a Canadian has with a person influences their perception of them. Shocking, but true.

Asked whether they had a favourable opinion of each group, the 1,500 people surveyed by Léger Marketing across Canada said they hold Jews in the highest esteem (78 per cent), Muslims considerably lower (61 per cent) and Sikhs least of all (53 per cent).
And in each case, how much a person approves of one of the minority religions depends on how much contact he or she has had with them. The more contact, the higher the esteem, the poll found.
Forty-five per cent of Canadians are in contact with Jews often or occasionally, according to the poll. Only 37 per cent are in touch with Muslims, and only 21 per cent with Sikhs.

One thing to keep in mind— there are fewer Jewish people than Muslims, in Canada (pronounced Kuh-NAH-da, natch).

According to the 2001 federal census (religion data from the 2006 census are not yet available), there are 330,000 Jews in Canada and 580,000 Muslims. Sikhs number 278,000.

Y’all need to hold some Bhangra Blowout-esque event in Quebec. ;)

 
 
Anjay of the Flies

Do you know which Indian dude’s debut is the most hotly anticipated one of this Fall’s television line-up? No, it isn’t Sendhil “I can’t figure out how to speak in an Indian accent even though I’m Indian” Ramamurthy of Heroes. Nor is it Naveen “torture solves everything” Andrews of Lost. The dude that South Asian Americans have their collective eyes on is 12-year-old Anjay Ajodha of Texas. The question is, can he succeed in wresting the reigns of power away from the simpletons within a newly created society known simply as Kid Nation?

40 Kids have 40 days to build a brave new world without adults to help or hinder their efforts. Can they do it? These Kids, ages 8-15, will turn a ghost town into their new home. They will cook their own meals, clean their own outhouses, haul their own water and even run their own businesses including the old town saloon (root beer only). Through it all, they’ll cope with regular childhood emotions and situations: homesickness, peer pressure and the urge to break every rule they’ve ever known.

Will they stick it out? In the end, will these Kids prove to everyone, including their parents, they have the vision to build a better world than the pioneers who came before them? And just as importantly, will they come together as a cohesive unit, or will they abandon all responsibility and succumb to the childhood temptations that lead to round-the-clock chaos? Don’t miss this intriguing series. [Link]

SM readers, let me be blunt. Anjay is the best chance we currently have to demonstrate to the American public how utopian our society might become if super smart desi people were in charge of everything. The governor’s mansion in Louisiana just won’t cut it. More people will tune in to Kid Nation than will pay attention to Louisiana. The question on all our minds is, “will a group of young children between ages 8-15 allow a kid (that reminds us a lot of ourselves at 12) lead the way when left on their own?” Just look at Anjay’s answers to some questions CBS posed. I dare anyone to find more concise and honest answers in any recent Presidential debate:

Who have been some of the best U.S. presidents, and why?
George Washington - he managed to lead a young nation, and headed the conventions to develop the Articles of Confederation and the Constitution. Abraham Lincoln - he abolished slavery, and led the nation through the Civil War. Franklin D. Roosevelt - he established the New Deal which got the economy working during the Great Depression and instilled confidence in citizens during his fireside chats.

Who have been some of the worst U.S. presidents, and why?
The US president that comes to mind, due to recent events, is George W. Bush, because I don’t agree with the way he is handling the Iraq war. [Link]

Also, is Anjay Libertarian? And does he know more about government than Fred Thompson?

If you had the power to change one or two things about our country right now, what would it be?
I would create a law that eliminates all budget earmarks - useless bits of spending. If earmarks are eliminated, approximately 78% of the US budget will be freed up to be utilized in areas where there is a more urgent need, such as the national deficit. I would also eliminate paid lobbying in an effort to give all parties involved in a dispute an equal voice. [Link]

Holy crap. 78%? Draft Anjay (or the parents that helped him write this stuff).

 
 
Cuz I never hesitate to put a fool on his back...

Long have I bemoaned the often-fugly nomenclature of my people…but I was ignorant as to how good we have it, until I received a tip from one of you (thanks, M).

It turns out that Malayalees have nothing on Venezuelans, though if legislators in the land of OOogo Chavez have their way, we thenga-addicts will go back to being the undisputed world champions of weirdness (take that Lovelypreets and Pinkyjeets of the world! You wish you could be part of a set of siblings named Mincy, Quincy and Finsy):

Goodbye, Tutankamen del Sol.
So long, Hengelberth, Maolenin, Kerbert Krishnamerk, Githanjaly, Yornaichel, Nixon and Yurbiladyberth. The prolifically inventive world of Venezuelan baby names may be coming to an end.[NYT]

Inventive? That’s no exaggeration:

A glance through a phone book or the government’s voter registry reveals names like Taj-Mahal Sánchez, Elvis Presley Gomez Morillo, Darwin Lenin Jimenez…Other Venezuelan first names, which roll off the tongue about as easily in Spanish as in English, include Yusmairobis, Nefertitis, Yaxilany, Riubalkis, Debraska, as well as Yesaidú and Juan Jondre — transliterations of “Yes, I do” and “One hundred.” [IHT]
If electoral officials here get their way, a bill introduced last week would prohibit Venezuelan parents from bestowing those names — and many, many others — on their children. [NYT]

Oh, my. I need to pause for a giggle. Thanks. Okay, so what this means is that parents of newborns would have the pleasure of choosing a name for their baby, from a list of a scant 100 or so choices, which are all approved by the government, ostensibly to protect these fragile youngsters from a lifetime of mockery:

The bill’s ambition, according to a draft submitted to municipal offices here for review, is to “preserve the equilibrium and integral development of the child” by preventing parents from giving newborns names that expose them to ridicule or are “extravagant or hard to pronounce in the official language,” Spanish.

Okay. But why is this even an issue?

The debate over names starter last year when opponents of President Hugo Chavez questioned the accuracy of the voter rolls when it was found that a Superman was on the list.
 
 
Joe Hill and the Jihadis

The beauty of being an “non exempt employee” is that you work as long as it takes to get the job done. So while the rest of the country was celebrating Labor Day, I was in the office, working more than 14 hours to meet a deadline. Tuesday was the same.

I was driving blearily to work this morning, thinking about the union movement and the 8 hour workday when I heard the news about the latest alleged terror plot in Germany. The name of the group they think is responsible? The Islamic Jihad Union.

It should tell you something about my state of mind that my first reaction was “There is a terrorist union? I wonder what benefits they get?”

This segued into a reverie in extremely poor taste about two Jihadi managers, sitting in Pakistan (where those arrested were allegedly trained), complaining about the new German recruits who came in and unionized their operations.

Manager one: Unions are really playing havoc with our operations. Now they’re asking for 3 suicide bombers when one will do. One to carry the bomb, one to set it off, and another to supervise!

Manager two: Yeah, and if they’re asked to attack after 5PM, they want overtime. They’re demanding 50% more virgins! Their slogan is “fewer hours, more houris!”

Maybe this could be the west’s secret weapon in the “GWOT”: Unionization! “I’m very sorry sir, but this is strictly a union shop. We only accept attacks by unionized terrorists here.” That should slow things down considerably.

 
 
 
Unleash Your Inner-Joan Rivers

TMBWITW and some bad hair.jpg

One of you kind souls, who wishes to remain anonymous, sent me this picture of “India’s Brangelina”, because you were hoping we might play The Caption Game with it (ji, thanks!). Absosmurfly! What better way to draw off-topic commentary away from the Maximum Nerdery thread? ;)

Without further ado, let’s get snarky. To the left we see Abhishek Bachan and his bride strutting down the red carpet at Cannes.

Most of you are aware that Aishwarya is sometimes known by the unwieldy acronym TMBWITW. Well, now that she is part of a pair, I propose that her hubby get an acronym, too. It’s only fair, right? Damnit, I don’t want to propagate the hegemony of the pasty. Err, I meant…it’s only dark? Whatever.

How about TMFHITW? I’m sure you can guess what the third and fourth letters stand for, but in case you haven’t had two cups of coffee like I have, I’ll spare you from wondering— FH = fugly hair.

Unless your name is Esthappan and you’re rocking a puff, COMB YOUR HAIR. I’m guessing Abhishek get it from his Mama? Big Daddy Amitabh’s tresses seem a bit more manageable. Anyway, the entire point of this debacle of a post is to offer you tired, grumpy, three-day-weekend-missing mutineers a chance to play the caption game! You know how we do, and if you don’t, check out previous editions: ein, zwei, drei, vier, funf

So, just what is Aish saying? What is her spouse thinking? Why are there suddenly so many Tamil people on SM? The answers to all this and more, will most probably not be found below, not that you’re disappointed at that. Now get to captioning!

 
 
An Important Message, Which Has Nothing to do with Spelling.

Neale left an important tip on our news tab, about a video which erstwhile-funny-mang Jim Carrey made, in support of human rights. I have quoted the short, AP article, which I ganked from the NYT, below.

NEW YORK (AP) — Jim Carrey has made a straight-to-YouTube video. And it’s not funny at all.
The 45-year-old actor-comedian — in rare serious mode — appears in a new public service announcement on behalf of the Human Rights Action Center and the U.S. Campaign for Burma. The goal: To free Nobel laureate Aung San Suu Kyi, who has been confined by the Burmese government for 11 of the last 17 years.
”Even though she’s compared to a modern-day Ghandi or Nelson Mandela, most people in America still don’t know about Aung San,” Carrey says in the filmed message, posted Tuesday on YouTube.
”And let’s face it: the name’s a little difficult to remember. Here’s how I did it: Aung San sounds a lot like `unsung,’ as in unsung hero. Aung San Suu Kyi is truly an unsung hero.”
Suu Kyi, who is under long-term house arrest in the city of Yangon, received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991 for her nonviolent efforts to bring down the oppressive military regime that rules over the Southeast Asian country.
The regime, led by General Than Shwe, has destroyed more than 3,000 villages in eastern Burma — forcing more than a 1.5 million people to leave their homes — and recruited more child soldiers than any other country in the world, Carrey says in his spot.
”People around the world need to come to her aid, just as they supported Mandela when he was locked up,” said Jeremy Woodrum, co-founder of the U.S. Campaign for Burma, in a statement Tuesday.
”This announcement contributes to an upsurge in activism around Aung San Suu Kyi in the United States and throughout the world.”

Now I am tempted to annoy our veddy good, veddy smart Sree-chettan (oh, would that I were three and could get away with calling him SAJA-chetta) and ask him a question which has nothing to do with spelling, at all. If I did ask him a question, which had nothing to do with spelling, I would be inquiring for my own edification about whether an august newspaper like The New York Times is allowed to tweak things which they get from the Associated Press.

I am tempted to bug him (and on what better day than Raksha Bhandan!), but then I remember, the only person who is smarter than a veddy smart Journalism professor is the wife of a veddy smart Journalism professor! And our Roopa-chechi, well, she has twin toddlers. She doesn’t have time for my nonsense. ;)

In any case, I will excuse myself and get out of your way, so you can debate and discuss this most significant news story; I’m being sincere when I say that Aung San Suu Kyi deserves your attention.

And a properly-spelled story.

 
 
Call the Wambulance! We have a pre-med allergy!

excellent kappi in the ATL.jpg A slightly Anonymous Tipster operating via the chimney which is our News tab gifted me with a robust cup of breakfast-reading which perked me right up.

How’s that for two utterly unrelated metaphors? Huh? Yeeeah, boyee.

Now you are surely not asking, “what got you all twitchy and agitated, Anna?”, but I am going to gift you with an answer anyway! I’m hyper thanks to the latest advice column from Cary Tennis, which is published at Salon.

Today’s edition of Cary-wisdom is inspired by a letter writer (LW) who can be neatly summed up by the title of the column:

I don’t want to be a doctor!

Fair enough, LW. A good number of us did or didn’t, but I want to know more about you, even as part of me groans, knowing I will regret it and get all uber-bitch on your ass by the end of this.

Aug. 28, 2007 | Dear Cary,
I am 20 years old, go to a state university, and am severely confused on what I want to do in life.
When I was little, I wanted to be an “artist.” With the beret, paintbrushes and canvas. Then, I moved on. Sure, I loved art, and enjoyed it, and was good at it, but I realized I wasn’t exceptionally creative in that sense. So I wanted to be a journalist. That idea left as soon as it entered my mind in high school. Then, toward the lag end of high school, I got interested in becoming a doctor. It wasn’t out of some desire I had to cure the world or make lots of money. It was because of my parents.
My parents and my family are from the Indian subcontinent and are Muslim. In their minds, the best thing to be is a professional. Especially a doctor. My father always tells me that I should be a doctor to help people and to be independent. My dad works away from home and flies back to my family every three to four weeks. It’s a hard life for him, because he misses out on our lives. It’s important to him that I become independent and have the ability to work wherever I want to. So, in high school, I took some medical classes. I enjoyed them; they weren’t my favorite classes, but they were, I suppose, “all right.”
When I started applying for university, for my possible majors, I would alternate between political science and English. My mother would ask me to write “pre-medicine” next to the others. Therefore, when I got accepted, I was put into the pre-professional advising. I never truly desired to become a doctor. The only reason I wanted to become one was to help people. To fix them. So I kept going. I took biology, chemistry, bioethics.
Then, my sophomore year, last year, I fell apart. I took physics and organic chemistry. I was doing terribly in both. I made a 48 on my first exam in physics and a 63 in organic. I had to decide whether or not to drop physics. I eventually did, and I was so disappointed in myself. You see, I did well in high school. I took many Advanced Placement classes, made A’s, and was an excellent student. And I got burnt out. I just couldn’t force myself to work. I tried, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t care enough. So I eventually made a C in organic.
It was during this semester that I would get these sort of panic attacks. I would just cry and cry when thinking about how badly I was doing in life, in organic, in everything. This is what really scared me the most. I always prided myself on not stressing out, not freaking out, and doing well in what I was studying for. But here was a class that just broke me down into tears. I couldn’t study when I was like that.
Then, the spring semester began. I took the second part of organic. Struggled through it and was averaging a C in the class. Then I fell apart again. I made a 48 on my last test, which dropped me to a D. I had to make an amazing grade on the final. I didn’t start studying for the final until the night before because I had basically given up. I failed the class with an F. In all my other classes that semester, I made A’s and B’s.
 
 
On Wing and a Snicker

Mihin-Lanka.gif My apologies to all for a long absence. As the Governator once said, I will be back. Just needed a little time off to rest my bloodshot eyes, straighten my keyboard-cramped fingers, and un-kink my turtling neck. Also, Mr. Cicatrix promises to make an honest woman of me soon.

Anyway, I’ve been so out of commission, I let my inbox clog like open pores on a teenager. In a mad zit-popping burst of clearing up (go extended metaphors!), I finally read blog posts that at least four Sri Lankans had forwarded to me about Sri Lanka’s new budget airline, Mihin Air.

An airline that aims to “provide affordable services to less affluent travellers, people leaving for overseas employment, particularly in the Gulf and Asian countries, and to promote regional tourism,” (link) has to be a good thing, right? Although it would be great if the goverment could provide alternatives - local jobs - for the women who work as maids in the Middle East.

But this is also a government-owned airline, supposedly the baby of Sri Lanka’s Donald Trump-like President, Mahinda Rajapakse. As the blog Broken News put it:

Reports indicate that the name ‘Mihin Air’ was selected after the alternative name - ‘All Hail Mahinda, May He Rule For A Thousand Years’ - was deemed too long for inclusion in company stationery.

One of the most unnerving aspects of this new airline was highlighted (as a positive) by the carrier’s CEO Sajin Vaas Goonewardene: “it took only three months to become a reality from a mere concept.” link to full interview. Three months? Really? Seriously?!

Maybe that’s why so many Sri Lankans themselves are casting a rather sardonic eye on the whole affair. A Sri Lankan business site had this to say:

A cursory examination of the profit-and-loss reports of the world’s airlines will show that the airline business is quite volatile, with the low-cost segment being more volatile and risky. For example, India’s biggest low-cost airline, Air Deccan reported a net loss of INR 3.40 billion for the 15 months ending June 2006, on turnover that increased 322 per cent to INR 13.52 billion. Air Deccan claimed that it will be profitable by 2008-2009. link

Ah, yes. Nothing like plunging a country exhausted by 25 plus years of a terrorist conflict into volatile business ventures. Why play safe now? I welcome commentors who might know more about the nuances of Sri Lanka’s latest aviation adventure, but until then, here’s my favorite satire of the affair, full of the best in Lakan gallow’s humor:

WELCOME TO MIHIN AIR!!!

Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen. This is your captain Wijepala, welcoming both seated and standing passengers on board Mihin Air. We apologize for the four-day delay in taking off, it was due to bad weather and some overtime I had to put in at the bakery.
 
 
Cuddling and being dirty can halt HIV?

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So I’m reading Jezebel, where they wittily illustrate their take on a certain news story with a photograph of a turtleneck…

…and I realize that obviously, what is being discussed there MUST be blogged here, because if there’s anything which is widely relevant to the brown Diaspora, it is the wearing of, ahem, turtlenecks. On your pee-pees. And for those of you who are sporting one such fleshy outfit, take heed— today’s Grey Lady has some filthy words for ya.

A study in Uganda has come up with a surprising finding about sex and H.I.V. Washing the penis minutes after sex increased the risk of acquiring H.I.V. in uncircumcised men.
The sooner the washing, the greater the risk of becoming infected, the study found. Delaying washing for at least 10 minutes after sex significantly lowered the risk of H.I.V. infection, Dr. Fredrick E. Makumbi reported on July 25 at an International AIDS Society Conference in Sydney, Australia.
The researchers do not have a precise explanation for the findings, which challenge common wisdom and the teaching of many infectious disease experts who urge penile cleansing as part of good genital hygiene. Health experts have suggested that washing the penis after sex could prevent potentially infectious vaginal secretions from entering the body through the uncircumcised penis.

A lubricious error (and what inspired the picture I chose to go with this post)!

Because of a slip-up, the researchers did not ask details of how the cleansing was done or directly about using soap, said Dr. Ronald H. Gray, a co-author from the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. Some soaps used in Africa are more irritating than those used elsewhere.

See? That’s why you should take happy little soap’s advice and rub…never mind.

 
 
Will "Clergy Response Teams" be inclusive enough?

Louisiana’s local news station KSLA had a rather intriguing headline last week. In a television news report they made the claim that the Department of Homeland Security is currently training members of local clergies to help out is some capacity should the Executive Branch ever declare Martial Law within the United States:

Could martial law ever become a reality in America? Some fear any nuclear, biological or chemical attack on U.S. soil might trigger just that. KSLA News 12 has discovered that the clergy would help the government with potentially their biggest problem: Us

If martial law were enacted here at home, like depicted in the movie “The Siege”, easing public fears and quelling dissent would be critical. And that’s exactly what the ‘Clergy Response Team’ helped accomplish in the wake of Katrina.

Dr. Durell Tuberville serves as chaplain for the Shreveport Fire Department and the Caddo Sheriff’s Office. Tuberville said of the clergy team’s mission, “the primary thing that we say to anybody is, ‘let’s cooperate and get this thing over with and then we’ll settle the differences once the crisis is over.’”

Such clergy response teams would walk a tight-rope during martial law between the demands of the government on the one side, versus the wishes of the public on the other. “In a lot of cases, these clergy would already be known in the neighborhoods in which they’re helping to diffuse that situation,” assured Sandy Davis. He serves as the director of the Caddo-Bossier Office of Homeland Security and Emergency Preparedness.

For the clergy team, one of the biggest tools that they will have in helping calm the public down or to obey the law is the bible itself, specifically Romans 13. Dr. Tuberville elaborated, “because the government’s established by the Lord, you know. And, that’s what we believe in the Christian faith. That’s what’s stated in the scripture…” [Link]

It should be noted that KSLA was just the latest to reveal information/rumors about this program. A few other websites on the internet (of varying authority and reliability) mention other details:

A whistleblower who was secretly enrolled into the program told us that the feds were clandestinely recruiting religious leaders to help implement Homeland Security directives in anticipation of a potential bio-terrorist attack, any natural disaster or a nationally declared emergency… It was stressed that the Pastors needed to preach subservience to the authorities ahead of time in preparation for the round-ups and to make it clear to the congregation that “this is for their own good.”

Pastors were told that they would be backed up by law enforcement in controlling uncooperative individuals and that they would even lead SWAT teams in attempting to quell resistance. [Link]

 
 
Stop stepping on books, Payless, BOGO be damned [UPDATED]

[Update: Uberdesi kindly sent us the link for the ad which inspired it all. Now you can freak out, too!]

The commercial barely disturbed my reverie; I’m thinking about how much I hate moving, and that is exactly what I’ll be doing at work tomorrow, as we prepare for some renovating which couldn’t come at a worse time. At first, I can’t figure out what this spot is advertising, it looks like college kids, seems to focus on shoes and just as I decide that it must be something to do with the latter, I see it.

A girl, in somewhat cute, patent, MaryJane-esque shoes, in a library like setting…using a stack of exactly and approximately half-a-dozen books four books to step on, to reach a higher shelf. Or something. My brain shorts, because I’m so shocked and my inner pragmatist is all, “That’s so unstable! You’re asking for a sprained ankle.” The thought which immediately chases that maternal scolding is, “Eeeek, that’s not very respectful.” And that is why the shoes are “somewhat” cute; I can’t disassociate their shiny happiness from the taboo, the disrespect.

It wasn’t always like this.

Believe it or not, despite all the other random Hindu-lite rituals I grew up with, I never was scolded for touching a book with my feet. I think this had to do with two things:

1) I loved books so much to begin with and was very careful with them, since I’m vaguely OCD about things getting dirty or ruined

2) My room wasn’t so cramped that books were ever on the floor. They were on shelves. Or my desk. Or my bedside table. The floor was for my clothes, much to my parents’ disgust.

I’m surprised that this is also something I didn’t learn from my sundry collection of Hindu ex-boyfriends, though I vaguely remember hearing about it once in a while. For whatever reason, it wasn’t expanded upon or elucidated.

It was you who informed me of this prohibition against disrespect, and it is you whom I think of, in my tiny studio apartment, when I’m trying to re-organize my bookshelves. I take everything out and stack it on the floor, because there’s no other place to put anything and then I dust, rearrange, etc…but once in a while, especially now when I’m hobbling so awkwardly, if my feet even graze the tiniest part of a book or magazine, I freeze, feel guilty and then think of these cultural mores.

Thanks, mutineers. You’ve given me one more thing to get neurotic about…aww, you shouldn’t have. ;)

My high-level point is, this website has changed how I consider or interpret things, in a significant way. I will never think of the Sepoy Mutiny, the word “mutineer”, paneer dosas, Lemurians, ketchup, Scythians or a thousand other things without being reminded of this space.

That’s why when one of you emailed us a tip, which said:

A quiz on Indian independence and the first question is quite, ahem, mutinous.

…which pointed us to a brief, enlightening quiz in the Economist, I smiled and had to see it for myself. Indeed, the first question was special and it’s why I wrote all of this, because I love words and I find them powerful.

When a word’s definition is altered so dramatically, it’s not trivial, not to me. The last word of the first question of that quiz now means something very precious, and it always will. I thought you should know that, because I’m grateful to you for amending the dictionary in my brain, to accommodate such a delightful mutation.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I got a “seven”. ;)

 
 
DC SMeetup: a Tardy Writeup of Lucky no. 7

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Those who are persistent eventually defeat even the steeliest resolve to procrastinate. I keed. DC’s last meetup was massive and most definitely fun. We descended upon Amma like a Mongol horde, pillaging every bit of delicious Southie food we spied. Oh, wait…the Mongols ate North Indian foo-…never mind.

Amma made like old skool Vanessa and went and saved the best for lasteven though he wasn’t there, YoDad arranged dessert for everyone at the meetup. We gobbled gulab jamuns, much to our collective surprise and delight, thanks to his thoughtful planning. New York may have the cool factor, SF may be hipster heaven, but DC has Abhi’s father, a.k.a. the Grandfather of the Mutiny. Take THAT, other cities!

And now, the moment one of you named No Desh has been waiting for: tabla roll, please…the Flickr photoset for D.C.’s seventh meetup has been hurriedly finished (i.e. the pics were split between two cameras, and for the last 20 mins, I was frantically DLing two dozen files, only to immediately upload them to the “official album”).

All evidence which could destroy potential Senate campaigns is available for your amusement via this “public” link. Aw, come on, people…it’s only six weeks late. Unless you’re a girl and in college, that’s never a huge problem. ;)

SM Meetups in DC— hot like your Amma’s meen kari, ya heard?

 
 
Watch out now!

Oh, we zimbly HAVE to play the caption game with the picture below. It was thoughtfully submitted via a tip to our news tab from Msichana (thanks!)

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Granny, get your gun: Ladies of the Village Defense Committee squeeze off a few AK-47 bursts during training by the Indian army in Sariya, India. [SFgate]

I don’t mean to make light of serious issues like empowering women or self defense and I wish I didn’t have to explicitly declare that in my post, but there you go, in case you needed me to do so. Having reluctantly typed all that, I will return to the gleeful state I was in when I first gazed at this— what a capture! Now you all caption away. :)

Previous editions of caption-palooza: onnu, rendu, moonu, naalu

 
 
Hindi Chini Behen Behen

Hindi Chini behen behen.jpg

An anonymous tipster left a link to an “awww”-inducing story from Beijing, China, on our news tab.

After Bollywood films, classical Indian dance has caught the imagination of the Chinese, with a young woman actively promoting Bharatnatyam among her compatriots, especially the tiny-tots.
For 33-year-old Jin Shan Shan, a Jawaharlal Nehru University alumnus, it has always been a passion to become an exponent of Bharatnatyam. She has established a school for Bharatnatyam here. [The Hindu]

Like Amreekans, the Chinese are dabbling in many things desi, like Bollywood, yummy food and of course teh yoga. Can’t forget that yoga.

Aside: Is there a better cultural ambassador? We have millions of confused, middle-aged, New Year’s Resolution-keepers all across this land, taking Yoga at Bally fitness and the like, trying not to fall over when they’re attempting an Ardha Chandrasana. ;) Now people can add incense and twisty poses to the pottu, when they assemble a stereotype. :D Don’t get your chuddies all twisted, yaar. I’m just high off the cuteness in that picture (that’s Jin Shan Shan and her adorable daughter Jessie, in Beijing).

While Bollywood films, Indian cuisine and yoga have become popular in China, learning classical Indian dance is also gaining ground here, Ms. Jin said. Around 50 Chinese children were attending classes every week to learn the intricacies of the classical dance. [The Hindu]

Wouldn’t it be amazing if the arts accomplished what the Panch Shila couldn’t? Yes, yes it would be. Then again, will hundreds of stomping little kids have any effect on China’s “take” on Arunachal Pradesh?

In November 2006, China and India had a verbal spat over claim of the north-east Indian state of Arunachal Pradesh. India claimed that China was occupying 38,000 square kilometres of its territory in Kashmir, while China claimed the whole of Arunachal Pradesh as its own.
Recently, China denied the application for visa from an IAS officer in Arunachal Pradesh, saying that since Arunachal Pradesh is a territory of China, he/she won’t need a visa to visit his/her own country. [viki]

An irresponsibly naive idealist can hope, right? Be the change you wish to see?

 
 
Love in the time of Technology

As a sequel to my “Love in the Time of Terrorism” post I wanted to offer up this new one based upon a Wall Street Journal article published today titled, “‘Til Tech Do Us Part.” Although it does not specifically cite any South Asian peeps in the article, I am sure you can all agree that it is quite relevant to a great many of us (and probably tech-savvy SM readers more so than most). Here is the oh-so-juicy synopsis of the article:

Joint bank account? Check. Merging the MP3 collection? Hold on a minute. Couples are struggling with just how much to combine the digital aspects of their lives. Why spouses are bickering over shared email accounts and his-and-hers blogs. [Link]

It’s true, it’s sooo true. This is why our parents generation just cannot understand why we sometimes (well some of us) wait so long to get married. It is no longer a question of simply making sure that your prospective wife comes from a good family and that at least one of her siblings is a doctor if she failed to become one herself. No. There is the MP3 collection-compatibility-issue that is a constant cloud which hangs over many of our serial dating lives. God forbid she leaves behind an Ipod in my car and I accidentally play Akon or Fergie when there are people around who might judge me. “I listen to Kings of Leon. I swear.” What if she bookmarks the NYPost whereas I bookmark the NYTimes? Does she pay attention to RottenTomatoes.com like I do or does she just go to the movies and blindly hope for the best like some crazy free spirit? Getting to know someone and fall in love just takes a lot more research these days.

To stay on pace during his five-mile jogging workouts, Olav Junttila keeps his iPod stocked with fast, thumping electronic music. But an unwelcome sound has been intruding on his daily runs: Britney Spears singing her bubble-gum hit “Oops, I Did It Again.”

The culprit is Mr. Junttila’s wife, Katie. Her musical taste differs, but instead of setting up a separate music library in iTunes, she mixes her Beyoncé and Justin Timberlake purchases in with his picks. “I’m going, ‘Where’d this song come from? I don’t even like this song,’ ” says Mr. Junttila, a 34-year-old New York investment banker. [Link]

Then, of course, the article moves on to an issue even more troubling than music and one that I lie awake at nights stressing about. Yep. Blogs.

 
 
Maybe when Diesel makes one?

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I keed. Despite my erstwhile devotion to all things Italian and denim, I do not think that there is ANYTHING which could persuade me to wear this unfortunate schmata— and that’s not because I’m conservative or unwilling to experiment for the sake of fashion.

Kanjeevaram, my beloved, politically incorrect, guilt-inducing Kanjeevaram, is heavy and inflexible enough; so how on earth does this thing WORK? Even if it is one of those new-fangled, “lazy saris” (as my Mother calls them), which is essentially a wrap-around, pre-pleated bottom with pallu attached, it’s still not easy enough.

I’d feel mummified.

Swaddled.

Slow.

Uncomfortable, and reminded of what it feels like to get x-rays, with that heavy protective blanket on top of me. Except at least when I’m getting x-rayed, I’m perfectly still. GAH. Yes, this is freaking me out, man. Must increase the drugs…

Said one fantastically-named blogher:

After color changing saree, pocket saree, it’s now turn for a Denim Silk Saree.
Sri Kumaran Stores, once a leading name in the garments business now seems desperate for market share. So out comes thinking caps (or is it cowboy hats) and innovation for the sake of it. In contrast to the appealing RMKV’s 50,000 color/ reversible saree, the concept as well as communication is a mild put off!

Incidentally, she has a pic of a very public version of this ad; a billboard which has some serendipitous placement, with regards to local greenery. Wait a second, what the— there’s a reversible sari?

My Mother is a disgrace I tell you. A disgrace. I’m always the last to know about such sartorial innovation. How someone who wears no makeup and has never thought to read a fashion magazine bore me, I have no idea. I’m terrified that whatever it is she has will skip a generation though, and that MY daughter will be a fearsome, dreaded rapscallion of a tomboy. Obviously, my Mother is praying for exactly this, as divine revenge for having to put up with me for 32 girly, glittery, glossy years. But I digress (and I must, for truly, it isn’t a post of mine, if I don’t!).

One final note: how the hell is this suitable for elders? Because they don’t move much? Give me a set sari over this isht, any day.

::

Via Maisnon, Lizzie and Yindia Uncut…thanks all. Or, um, in this case, y’all.

 
 
SM's Summer of Love: Ho or No?

Oh, like I could pass THIS up:

I hear all of you on the drink-buying morass but I want a thread about whether I’d be considered the biggest ho alive for putting out on the first date. How about the second? More respectable?
I’m going through a dry spell and I’m in the mood to cut to the chase. I’m usually reasonably virtuous. Would I be seen as sensual or skanky? Would my amorous inclinations kill any chances of having a real relationship? [sm]

Of course they would, and remember, choose your orifice adventure wisely, so you can still be extra you-know-what, like olive oil…and I don’t mean light.

::

When I was in college I was classified as a “ho” not just for being a Dirty Girl (Nothing goes down faster than an anchor!™) but…wait for it…wait for it…

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Who is SKINNY? [Updated]

Yes or No.JPG

I wrote a post this weekend which questioned certain commenters’ assertions regarding how “hot Desi girls seem to end up with White guys”. We discussed that misconception as well as…well, a few dozen other subjects, but that’s natural over the course of 1,349 comments. One sub-thread which I followed avidly involved I-bankers and their (for some) elusive prey: the skinny, hyper-maintained, hot brown girl with stick-straight hair.

Some of you compassionately responded to your banking brethren, when they plaintively admitted that they weren’t sure where to locate their loins’ fondest desire; instructions, right down to locations, days of the week and yes, auspicious times of day (yo, are we brown or are we BROWN) were offered and happily accepted. Much like the original exchange which inspired my post on interracial dating, which is where this comedy of heir-ers was going down, what I noticed was that these weren’t one-off sentiments. To me, that made them difficult to dismiss.

The one word which kept surfacing, repeatedly, insistently, was skinny.

Predictably, evolved mutineers were outraged and immediately broadcasted it; even more predictable than that, the obligatory, “I can’t help it, it’s just what ruins my boxers”- volley occurred, so that there was essentially a stalemate. Around skinny. While all of them pondered if it was okay to come out and say that “skinny” was a requirement, and whether such a requiring was nothing to be ashamed of, I was transfixed by something else which was related, but not discussed.

What did skinny mean in this context?

To some, Kate Moss defines skinny. To others, the woman who is pictured on our left qualifies.

I like to know exactly what I’m offended by, before I gift someone with a new orifice, so I couldn’t get my outrage-on— not until this question was answered. Yes, yes…we should all eschew superficial everything and it’s terrible that we’re judging female books by their covers, but it’s also a gross reality. And I wanted to know how realistic these I(yer) bankers were.

There was another snag—we were discussing Manhattan.

It’s a rarified world and understandably, the benchmarks are different. Everything is relative (and apparently, if you are an Iyengar reading SM, YOU are all relatives…oy, how I wish that I could actually link to relevant comments from MY OWN POST, which would make my attempts at wit successful vs. inscrutable).

In most cities, D.C. included, my 450 sq ft studio is tiny. In Manhattan, my friend is thrilled to have that much space for her ONE-BEDROOM. In most cities, making six figures is awesome. In Manhattan, it barely affords the afore-mentioned shoe-box, rent-wise and that’s if you limit your methods for self-intoxicating to PBR (note: life is too short for PBR, my darlinks). Anyway, if everything is tougher, better, more competitive, more expensive and more EVERYTHING in Manhattan, then…do brown guys expect brown girls to be skinnier, too? And does skinny mean fit? Or just skinny?

My guy friends (the unManhattanites, if you will…I’m not counting the Murray Hill dwellers et al for the purposes of this fluffy post) would line up giddily for a shot at the gorgeous girl above. Would our I(yengar) bankers? I think we have a bit of a vested interest in all this; the majority of the Desi vomen whom I am privileged to know are curvaceous, if they’re out of their teens. For most men, that’s a good thing. My male buddies don’t like straight lines—on the roads they’re about to break laws on or…uh…you know.

Curves are good. Right? Left? Those are definitely curves, on the left.

So, as I said memorably (and almost 1,700 comments ago!), out with it then. Let’s have the truth. What do you want? Is the woman I’ve wrapped this post around zaftig or is she just right? Err, left? You know what I mean. And this ain’t no heteronormative joint. I’ll be the first to tell you that she could inspire me to discover a love that dare not speak its naam. ;) What about you?

 
 
Obituary: WIDWNR

MUTINEERS,

I am saddened to report the sudden and unexpected demise of our beloved friend, Whoa— is dating White not right? (July 28, 2007 -August 1, 2007).

Right was born in an indie coffee shop, in the heart of Washington, D.C., via the twin modern miracles of a stickered, 12” iBook and wifi. In his short life, he profoundly affected many mutineers; Right challenged long-held assumptions, enlightened us about dozens of subjects and was a welcoming, tolerant figure in our community. He will be missed.

In lieu of flowers, Right’s grieving family humbly requests that when SM does its annual plea for donations to keep the site going, a la PBS/NPR, you contribute a rupee or two in his memory, especially since his Mother HATES ADS AND WILL NEVER AGREE TO HAVING THEM ON THIS SITE.

::

I had to close the uber-thread. :(

Many of you are writing to me, letting me know that you can no longer access it. Not sure what’s going on, but I can’t see new comments, either, which means I can’t moderate…so unfortunately, the party is over…not that I needed to do a lot of moderating in the first place. :)

I am delighted; considering the provocative subject material, there was far less ickiness, trolling or flaming than one might expect. All credit for that goes to you.

Thanks for one of the most lively, fascinating and relevant discussions we’ve ever had— and don’t fret, my pets…plenty of you left comments which could be spun off in to so many different threads, about queer dating, seduction via bharatnatyam, evaluating what’s worse— emasculation or exoticization, outting Iyengars, South Asian inter-religious/regional relationships, where to find B-Boy/punker Punjabis, how to procure puliyodarai, internalized self-hatred as evidenced by externalized comment-stupidity, whether I-Bankers are evil, where to find the mythical straight-haired, hyper-maintained desi goddesses whose knickers disintegrate for private equity types, San Francisco’s alternately sucky/fantastic dating scene and of course, HAIR.

More of all that, soon. In the meanwhile, pour a little sum’n out for “Right”, the next time libations are flowing. Sigh. Time to cue Tupac:

Rest in peace young homie, there’s a heaven for a G…

 
 
Hyperwhite or Ultrabrown?

As brown blog folks, we know a thing or two about nerdiness. I was surprised therefore to see this NYT article about the research of Mary Bucholtz, a linguist at UCSB who has been studying nerds for the past dozen years. According to the article, Bucholtz argues that nerdiness is essentially exaggerated whiteness:

Nerds - not just white people any more

Nerdiness, she has concluded, is largely a matter of racially tinged behavior. People who are considered nerds tend to act in ways that are, as she puts it, “hyperwhite.”

As a linguist, Bucholtz understands nerdiness first and foremost as a way of using language… Bucholtz notes that the “hegemonic” “cool white” kids use a limited amount of African-American vernacular English … But the nerds she has interviewed, mostly white kids, punctiliously adhere to Standard English… By cultivating an identity perceived as white to the point of excess, nerds deny themselves the aura of normality that is usually one of the perks of being white. [Link]

I’m willing to concede part of her point - that “cool” culture in America has to do with black culture, and that nerds define themselves self-consciously against it. That’s why (as she points out) black nerd figures, like Urkel, are so amusing. It’s worth reading her whole argument, but I’m not going to quote it at greater length here because I’m more interested in what she leaves out, namely immigrant nerds or FOB nerds.

Growing up in New York City, we had nerds of all colors, sizes, shapes and flavors, but the median nerd was probably an immigrant kid of some sort. It didn’t matter where your parents came from, just that they weren’t born here and that you yourself may have emigrated as a kid.

Since I went to a geek high school, I grew up with Eastern European nerds, tons and tons of east Asian nerds, and yes, brown nerds. And it wasn’t about people defining themselves against blackness — African nerds with their white short-sleeve shirts, slacks and ramrod straight posture were just as nerdy as an IITian or MITian around. [Which is precisely why “blackness” gets tricky when talking about immigrants - are you going to call African immigrants Oreos just because they don’t fit stereotypes of “black Americans”?]

As a matter of fact, I would go as far as to argue that brown nerds aren’t hyperwhite but ultrabrown. They weren’t trying to emulate the squarer parts of American culture, in fact they were uberdesi . They wore polyester short-sleeve shirts, coke bottle glasses, were very earnest and spoke grammatical english. And yes, before somebody brings up the distinction, they were not just geeks but pukka nerds.

 
 
Once Upon a Time... [UPDATED!]

…in a land not-at-all far away, there was a divisive issue that was almost as annoying as Paris Hilton— and just as ubiquitous, too.

According to the SAJAforum blog, yesterday, there was another cartoon on outsourcing (shocking! original! unexpected!).

This time, it’s Mother Goose & Grimm who are having their say. Well, more like Grimmy and Attila, but you know what I meant.

grimmy.gif

Do you think it’s funny?

Better yet, does anyone feel like getting creative the way our beloved DJ Drrrty Poonjabi did with the last cartoon I blogged about on this “hot topic”?

::

w00t Nina! Thanks for the prompt “revision”. :D


MotherGooseRedo.jpg

…that’s much better. Anyone else?

 
 
Natasha is so twee! [Updated]

I heart Bat For Lashes, which is half-brown. ;) Like the blog I am currently so addicted to, I have a massive girl-crush on Natasha Khan. This is complicated, and not just because I’m straight; it means that even though I also have ole voice of the beehive on my iPod, I’m totally going to be a bitch to her, since she is also up for a Mercury Prize, and I want my Natasha to win (no, not because she’s desi, because she rules):

Kind of like how Chan Marshall is Cat Power, Natasha Kahn is Bat for Lashes, a British singer/songwriter and visual artist whose album Fur and Gold made the short list for the 2007 Mercury Prize (but will most likely lose to Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black). Kahn is beginning to make waves on this side of the pond. She’s touring the U.S. right now with her all-girl live show lineup. [Jezebel]

The line about squash in her bio keeps summoning “The Royal Tenenbaums” to my memory, I’m random like that:

Bat for Lashes is the stage name of Natasha Khan (born 25 October 1979), a Brighton-based songwriter.
Born to a Pakistani father, part of the eminent family of squash-playing Khans, and an English mother, her early childhood was spent travelling the world following her father who trained the Pakistani squash team, summers in Pakistan, and the rest of the time in Hertfordshire[1][2]. She had a strict religious upbringing until her parents separated, when she was eleven years old. [viki]

Her next four Amreekan shows are in Chicago, Minneapolis, SF and LA. Sigh. Why couldn’t she come to Hollywood for ugly people? Oh, and FYI, she is SO not a creepy Lily Allen. That is like, sooo mean.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go cry, which is what I always do after watching this video, but only because it reminds me of my beloved BMX, which got stolen when I was seven. That and those stuffed animal heads haunt my nightmares.

 
 
Pak Attack

This has been forwarded to me ~15 times and you are all right, it’s some seriously funny shiznit. “Yo Momma” is an MTV series that looks for the best trash talkers around the country. I watched last season end to end (ah, the miracle of Tivo) and it was ridiculously good. This time around, the show’s been infiltrated by a desi dude who’s donned the character “Pak Attack” and if he can keep the gimmick going, he’s actually got what it takes to go all the way & win the show.

You smell so bad that people would rather sit next to me on an airplane…

In this clip over at MTV.com, he DESTROYS his yo momma competitor, Osa. Set aside ~10 min of your life to watch a Russell Peters worthy performance. Except, of course, there’s a much higher improv quotient here & Pak’s strictly amateur. (His myspace page indicates that in real life, he’s probably a GeorgiaTech engineer. )

Now I’ll warn you, gentle mutineers, that there’s a certain brand of humor you’ve gotta be ready to accept on any show called “Yo Momma”… with that caveat in mind, a couple of Pak’s laugh lines -

“It is true, it is true, I work at 7-11, but just like my store, yo momma’s legs are open 24-7”

“The only difference between my camel and your momma, my camel spits”

Social commentary?

 
 
Downward Dog, Not Doggie...

Sisters are doing it for themselves, y'all.JPG In latex, India’s women should trust (thanks, Jeet). So much for treating one’s husband as if they were a deity, hmmm? Via TimesNow.TV:

Women’s welfare minister, Renuka Chowdhury, has asked women to trust condoms more than their husbands.
Chowdhury commented on Monday (July 16) that Indian men can’t be trusted in their sexual behaviour. According to Chowdhury, men also play a pivotal role in fuelling the country’s HIV epidemic – so women, she said, should protect themselves by keeping condoms as straying husbands might bring the virus home.

I’m sure that will go over VERY well.”Honey, I don’t trust you and these business trip-ships you are always having. Please be covering up, thank you, come again”. (Oh, like you could have resisted that last bit…it’s Rahul’s influence, I tell you.)

“Half our problems stem from hypocrisy. We women are too shy to ask our husbands to use a condom. At one time it was considered immoral to even use the word. People still feel reluctant to say it. And this shyness costs women dearly,” she said.

Whenever I read the word “shyness”, I think…

Shyness is nice, and Shyness can stop you From doing all the things in life You’d like to So, if there’s something you’d like to try If there’s something you’d like to try ASK ME - I WON’T SAY “NO” - HOW COULD I ?

Ah, that was lovely. If women in India take Renuka’s advice, here’s hoping that last sentence is what they are met with, in response.

Men can’t be trusted and everyone knows this,” she said adding “with due apologies and exemptions to the current company - most husbands can’t be trusted at different levels. They stay away from home for work purposes for long periods, often falling prey to temptation and then making their wives also victims. The onus lies on women to stop the deadly disease (AIDS).

The onus lies on WOMEN? What, like we don’t already have enough to do? Chey! OUR TO-DO LISTS NEVER END!

a move to introduce sex education at the school level has been net with stiff resistance from many politicians, with several state governments opposing it saying it will go against Indian culture - and this has also been a big headache for Chowdhury.

Wait, what kind of resistance was sex ed met with? ;)

Renuka Chowdhury’s refreshing candour is perhaps more indicative of the emerging Indian woman - and stands at odds with some of the more conservative, regressive views that have been voiced by some of our mass leaders who seem to be out of touch with reality…

Out of touch with reality, indeed. Read on, for what inspired the title, picture and my general silliness…

Madhya Pradesh School Education Minister Narottam Mishra even suggested “Instead of imparting sex education to school students, they will be taught yoga.”

Fantastic. Then everyone will be flexible, in great shape AND in the mood to knock Batas. Perrrfect.

 
 
Would Apu let him get away with it?

Super cute high jinks, brought to you by DJ Drrrty Poonjabi, the BBC and the letter S. :)

A seagull has turned shoplifter by wandering into a shop and helping itself to crisps. The bird walks into the RS McColl newsagents in Aberdeen when the door is open and makes off with cheese Doritos
Shop assistant Sriaram Nagarajan said: “Everyone is amazed by the seagull. For some reason he only takes that one particular kind of crisps.”
The bird first swooped in Aberdeen’s Castlegate earlier this month and made off with the 55p crisps, and is now a regular.

Look, he even shares!

Once outside, the crisps are ripped open and the seagull is joined by other birds.

Clever birdie…

Mr Nagarajan said: “He’s got it down to a fine art. He waits until there are no customers around and I’m standing behind the till, then he raids the place.
“At first I didn’t believe a seagull was capable of stealing crisps. But I saw it with my own eyes and I was surprised. He’s very good at it.
“He’s becoming a bit of a celebrity. Seagulls are usually not that popular but Sam is a star because he’s so funny.”

Happy Friday, Mutineers. Join us next week, when Sam is kidnapped by Britney, and trained to retrieve funyuns and altoids, y’all (for Sean Preston, of course).

 
 
We Know Maths, Medicine AND Brows!

LOLsienna.JPG

Like all lal-blooded desi girls, I’m mildly obsessed with eyebrows.

Like all lal-blooded GIRLS, I’m mildly obsessed with celeb gossip.

Occasionally, the two, they meet.

It is possible that many of you saw photographs of Sienna Miller on the red carpet (there she is! on the right!), doing her damnedest to bring dark and furry back. Well, ABC News was inspired by her “caterpillars”; they have an entire article about what brows signify and the expert whom they quote is none other than Vaishaly Patel, “London’s eyebrow shaper to the stars”.

Vaishaly’s opinion on Sienna’s dark statement?

“Personally I think they look hideous…When you’ve got blond hair the number one rule is not to have black eyebrows. I think they’re a lovely shape but just on the wrong person.”
So, there is a right person.

Take heart, my brown sisters— YOU are that right person!

Bushy is back as far as eyebrows are concerned. So, poor Sienna was just trying to follow fashion. It’s just that not every fashion suits everyone.

Ah, for once, we (and by we, I mean you) win.

For this apparently lowbrow issue, there’s some highbrow analysis. Eyebrows tell a story of cultures, eras and politics. For example, in Iran “un-groomed” is a sign of virginity. The Mexican artist Frida Kahlo sported a unibrow. It became her signature, an expression of independence and feminist strength.

No comment on what brows meant to Bert, and that’s unfortunate.

There is plenty of history-lite, however, including an exploration of whether certain decades inspired severe arches or fierce tufts. Here’s a summary:

-1940s-50s: Eyebrows are shaved off completely, lest a girl seem “masculine”. Owwww.

-1960s: Girls who are boys, who like boys to be girls, who do boys like they’re girls, who do girls like they’re boys— always should be someone you reeeeally love. Free love = furriness.

-1980s: Yuppies are mean and therefore, women over-tweeze. The end.

-Today: Sensitive and enlightened are we. Pluck we do not.

There’s a backlash against the over-plucked brow, according to Jaimineey Patel, manager of a Blink Eyebrow Bar in London. Patel and a phalanx of eyebrow “threaders” are in the trenches, persuading clients to grow back their brows before they gently shape them with twisted thread held between their teeth.
We always do a thorough consultation,” explained Patel. “We ask them what they want out of their eyebrows.” What can you want from an eyebrow? More than function, apparently. More than a sponge effect to keep sweat out of your eyes.

We want to be as pretty as can be, DUH.

Apparently they frame your face. “To be honest,” confided Patel. “A lot of clients feel they’ve had a facelift because it opens your eyes out.”

I don’t know about a facelift, but I saw someone get their brows done for the first time this weekend, and suddenly, I was aware of the rare color of their irises AND their ridonkulous lashes. Yowza. Best $25 they ever spent, yindeed.

Eyebrows are the new window on the soul. So be careful Sienna, those caterpillars may reveal more than you want us to know.

New?! Not. Desis have known that truth all along. As for Sienna’s caterpillars, like Madonna and Gwen before her, the girl just wants to be down with the brown, obviously.

 
 
Chew on this

Ummmm.

An Indian firm has launched a paan-flavoured condom designed to evoke the pungent taste of the betel nut and tobacco concoction chewed and then spat out by millions of South Asians, newspapers reported on Tuesday. [Link]

Yeah, so like, is this so women will chew it and spit it out? So…many…jokes…cannot…type. I mean seriously, do we really want a condom to taste like something that you typically chew for an hour and grind down to a pulp? What if one acts instinctively when the aroma begins to entoxicate (although paan makes me want to vomit)? Well, at least nobody gonna mess with the prostitues who will be the test market for this product:

The company ran taste tests with sex workers, including prototypes with chocolate, banana and strawberry flavours, but the paan flavour came out tops…

The condoms will at first be made available only to prostitutes, but will we launched to the general public in a few months, the newspaper said. [Link]

I know some of you guys are thinking what I’m thinking but I am going to just come out and say it. Think I can bid for these on Ebay? During the limited release trial period the prostitutes would make a whole lot more money selling these to paan-flavored condom collectors like me, than they would using these with their clients. We’d both be winners. They’d get to skip work for a long time and I’d have something really cool for show-and-tell the next time I have a party.

Dirty Mouths Come Clean.

 
 
Padma Lakshmi's Rebound Billionaire!

Padma plus TED.JPG KXB is one sharp, articulate, distinguished mutineer— which is why I hardly expected to find that HE deposited the hot gossip on our news tab! I love people who defy expectations, especially when they provide us with such apposite summer entertainment while doing so. Yay KXB!

Padma Lakshmi might be dating a billionaire?

Of whom we have never

Whom we have never

One who ain’t famous??

Via NYC’s other other paper:

Billionaire Ted Forstmann has trained his gaze on another world-class beauty.
The financier, whose consorts have included Elizabeth Hurley and Princess Diana, has become a fast friend of model, chef and actress Padma Lakshmi.
Their mouthpieces maintain that the two are not dating. But that hasn’t stopped some from noticing that Forstmann has appeared in Lakshmi’s life just as her husband, author Salman Rushdie, is leaving it.

Allegedly, the two are spending time together because IMG (Forstmann’s own!) will be representing her.

As early as this week, we hear, IMG is due to announce a slate of endorsement and licensing projects for Lakshmi. “IMG is global, and so is Padma’s appeal,” says one insider. “It’s a good marriage.”
Did someone say marriage?

The proof isn’t in the picture!

Lakshmi seemed a little guarded when she and Forstmann arrived together at the Elie Wiesel Foundation tribute to Oprah Winfrey at the Waldorf in May. When a photographer snapped her with Forstmann, Lakshmi asked the photog to delete the image - supposedly because the shot was blurry. She agreed to pose again - but not with Forstmann.
Rushdie suggested in a statement this month that Lakshmi was the one who wanted out of their union - that he “agreed to divorce … because of her desire to end their marriage.”

For those who think some of us are finding this mirchier than we need to:

Though he’s seven years older than Sir Salman, Forstmann seems well fixed to counsel the shapely author of “Tangy, Tart, Hot and Sweet.”
One industry source does find it “a little odd that Teddy is taking such an interest in Padma’s career. It’s not the side of the business he usually focuses on.”
But, perhaps in the case of Lakshmi, he’s more willing to be hands-on.

Ba-dum-bum. :D

 
 
 
"Saar, saar- new order saar...100 more effigies!"

Bips.JPG

Time for something fluffier: Bipasha + Ronaldo? Maybe!

They were hosting the Seven Wonders of the World party in Lisbon together. And they got along so well:

Revealing the details, she said: “I felt like a princess. He gave me so many compliments. He danced with me throughout the night. There were 50,000 jealous women staring at us. I must’ve got so much Portuguese bud-dua (bad wishes) that night. The local girls wanted to murder me. Now he wants to e-mail me regularly.”
During dinner Cristiano told Bipasha that he was a big fan of Bollywood. “I thought he was just trying to be sweet. I told him he didn’t have to say he liked Bollywood films just to please me.
Cristiano fished out his cell phone and made me hear Tujhse naraaz nahin from Masoom. He said, ‘Now do you believe me?’
Bipasha laughs about her interaction with the soccer star. “Though he looks older, Cristiano is very young, just a boy. Now I’ve told him, I’m only his fan on the field. Beyond the field he’s my friend. [HT]

He is young, just 22, and this detail apparently bothers many. How dare she! A younger man!

What does SHE have to say for herself?

Cristiano Ronaldo may not have been at a social distance when the photo being splashed on TV screens and the internet was clicked using a cell phone camera, but it isn’t a kiss that the photo shows, and definitely not a lip lock, says the livid bongshell.
“All the joy of that meeting with my favorite footballer has evaporated,” she laments.
“I don’t need to explain my behavior. I’m a free-spirited person. But I’m not footloose. It takes me a long time to become close to anyone. I’m certainly not some giddyheaded teenager who would get so carried away in Ronaldo’s company that I’d kiss him in public. My business manager Tanuja and dress designer Rocky S were present, would I be that dumb? There are far more discreet and private places to do such things. Even if I was single, I would not get carried away at my first meeting with a 22-year-old boy, no matter how big a celebrity he is, to misbehave with him in public.” [SAWF]
 
 
Rolling down the street sippin' Squishee...

Rollin’ down Venice with Squishee in hand

I haven’t done any hard-nosed-journalism-type posts on SM in a while. Saturday night, when I found myself driving down Venice Blvd. in Los Angeles, I knew it was time to change all that. Out of the corner of my eye, on the errrr…corner, I spotted a Kwik-E-Mart with a huge line running around the building. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to film an undercover exposé with such a large crowd present so I determined that I would come back at a later time. On Monday I did just that. I casually walked past the bouncer who was shorter than me. What I found inside was shocking. Absolutely shocking! Indians were running the store and making a ton of money selling Squishees, hot dogs, and donuts. There were three brown dudes working the register and a really tall guy of uncertain ethnic origin pouring Squishees. I am happy to bring this exclusive hidden camera footage to our valued readers:

 
 
This is what a Feminist looks like.

Daddy's Girl.jpg

Exactly 32.5 years ago, a short man with a fearsome moustache stood at a nursery window, tears in his eyes, pride bordering on arrogance spilling forth via his words.

“See her? The one with the huge eyes? That’s my daughter.”

The strangers standing near him congratulated him and politely made remarks about his newborn’s full head of hair and yes, her eyes, which were peering around suspiciously as if she were casing her bassinet, planning a possible escape.

“She was alert, when she was born. She didn’t cry. She…uh…she takes after me. Strong.”

He cleared his throat and complained about the dust, using his ever-present handkerchief to wipe his eyes swiftly.

“Look at the other babies…they are oblivious. They’re nothing compared to her.” He had never been so smug.

My “Grandma”, who is a Russian Orthodox woman who married an Italian, who still sends me a check every January, who told me this story, stood by him, smiling.

“Oh, cut the bullshit George! Every parent thinks their kid is a damned miracle.”

She was teasing him, she didn’t mean it. She always admitted as much when telling this tale, because the next part of it involves her elbowing the woman next to her, and asking, “Have you ever seen a baby with so much hair and such big eyes? Most kids are bald. And squinty.”

My Mom was down the hall, passed out. There was still a tiny smudge of flour on her arm; she had been making chapati when I made my abrupt entrance on a Saturday night, after less than two hours of labor.

::

Much like the adorable protagonist of “Knocked Up”, my father had purchased baby books to study.

Ever the engineer, he charted out milestones and other information. He laid awake at night, unable to sleep; his brain, which already over thought everything, was now whirring even faster. He was the precursor to today’s “helicopter” parent, though he’d scoff at such dilettantes for being OCD-freaks-come-lately.

“That’s what happens when you wait until you are 38 to have a child. You really parent”, he’d explain to me and anyone else who would listen, later.

::

“You will be a book baby,” he allegedly announced to me, the day he strapped me in to the back of one massive Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham, on the way home from the hospital. “You will do everything exactly when the books say…”

…or else. Or else, what? Who knows, I’m just lucky I did it. All that amazing early achievement would buy me some leeway when I turned out to be spectacularly mediocre, later on in life.

 
 
Mira Mang- Don't Mess With Kerala.

fresh from getting its kundi kicked.jpg

Ah, I love being from Kerala. Now I can claim genetics as the reason for my refusing to shop at Wal-mart. Ha!

The Communist government of Kerala is threatening to ban “retail giants” from setting up shop in the Indian state. The measure, which appears to be backed by all the major political parties in Kerala, is chiefly aimed at India’s version of Wal-Mart, Reliance Industries. The concern is that a proliferation of large retail outlets would drive tens of thousands of mom-and-pop shop operators out of business. [Salon.com]

Hmmmm. That last sentence explains why I prefer Olsson’s > Borders, too.

Kerala made headlines not so long ago for attempting to ban Coca-Cola; the state has a long history of pursuing its own unique path to development. Naturally, the more gung-ho-for-capitalism elements of Indian society aren’t mincing their deprecating words: An editorial in the Indian Express made no attempt to restrain its sarcasm:
Coke poisons people. Highway tolls exploit them. Fiscal discipline starves projects that can better their lives. So, of course, big retail chains, as Kerala’s Left explained to this newspaper on Monday, are anti-people … Food minister … C. Divakaran is ever so bold in proposing to ban a business activity permitted almost everywhere bar places like North Korea. [Salon.com]

Yo, I totally feel exploited by highway tolls. It’s the only thing I don’t miss about driving to NYC. Anyway, I think it is a bold move, and an interesting one at that. Salon’s Andrew Leonard raises a sobering point:

Let’s switch venues. The safety of Chinese-made products is in the news again today, as China’s government announced that a whopping one-fifth of the products on the shelves of Chinese stores were found to be substandard or tainted. The immediate, and understandable impulse, is to blame the health hazards of Chinese products on the lack of regulatory enforcement in China, a state of affairs exacerbated by state corruption, a weak judiciary, and a general absence of effective checks and balances in Chinese society. But that’s only one-half of the picture. The other half is the imperative, in the biggest markets for Chinese exports, that demands ever-lower prices for everything.
In “The Wal-Mart Effect,” Charles Fishman makes a compelling argument that Wal-Mart’s market power inevitably forces its suppliers to cut corners on quality in order to deliver the lower and lower prices that Wal-Mart demands. So those suppliers close their American manufacturing facilities and start sourcing their products in China — if they don’t, they’ll lose their place on Wal-Mart’s shelves. [Salon.com]

Mein Gott, I’m starting to feel like a very pink democrat…

But the symbolism of Kerala’s “bold” move, however quixotic, is still potent. Markets left to themselves do not deliver perfect outcomes. Sometimes government has to push back.

Indeed, especially since those sell-outs in Bengal don’t have the stones to do so. ;)

Interestingly, in the other Left-ruled state of West Bengal, Chief Minister Buddhadeb Bhattcharjee has rolled out the red carpet to Mukesh Ambani’s ambitious retail initiative, though coalition partners have expressed their reservations on the issue. [CNN-IBN]

Compare that reaction to THIS thenga-flavored one:

“The public mood is against Reliance, so we will stop them in their tracks,” Food and Civil Supplies Minister, C Divakaran said. [CNN-IBN]
 
 
Kumar Wants You to REGISTER

Meanwhile, that Sunkrish Bala is a slice of adorable, isn’t he? I wouldn’t kick him…off the couch…where we would be demurely seated on opposite sides. And not touching. With vada on the coffee table as our witness. And our parents there, too. Ah, I digress.

But while I’m digressing, you should know that “Notes from the Underbelly”, which SB starred on, was one of my favorite shows of the past season. :) Go on with your bad self, Sunkrish, whose name leaves me puzzled. And let me just say that I heart you more, for trying to help Vinay and others like him. “I’m registered…are you?” should become our new pickup line at the clubs, because I would’ve hurled my digits at THAT, for sure.

I was proud to see several of you get swabbed at the last Subcontinental Drift event. Drives are still happening all over the country.

There is still time— one of you could be the one.

 
 
Salman and Padma Escape Stupor, Separate

back on the market.jpg

Sometimes, breaking news is so significant, it demands that I waste my lunchtime on it. This is not that kind of news story (thanks, Anon + Rose). Via Yahoo!:

British author Salman Rushdie and his wife Padma Lakshmi, host of TV show “Top Chef,” are getting divorced, his spokeswoman said on Monday, just two weeks after he was awarded a controversial knighthood.

Fourth time? Not a charm, it turns out.

He married Lakshmi, a former model born in 1970 in India, in 2004. She was his fourth wife and the couple had no children.

It’s not him, it’s her:

“Salman Rushdie has agreed to divorce his wife, Padma Lakshmi, because of her desire to end their marriage,” spokeswoman Jin Auh said in a statement on his behalf.

I don’t think it was just the British, who did:

When the Indian-born Rushdie started his romance with the model more than 20 years his junior, the British tabloids made much of their differences in age and intellectual stature.
But Rushdie always defended his wife.

Am I the only one who finds “not supposed to be permitted to be” awkward?

“Anyone who’s met Padma knows she’s as intelligent as they come,” he told The Times of London in a 2005 interview. “But, you know, it’s not supposed to be permitted to be gorgeous and really smart and also very nice.”

Okay, snark aside, I do remember feeling a bit sorry for him. Or at least wincing on his behalf. Once.

“It feels very odd to see newspaper articles saying ‘Beauty and the Beast’ and ‘Why Do Beautiful Women Love Ugly Men?”’ he said in the interview. “But at this stage, I’m kind of resigned to it at — as you say — pushing 60.”

While a few of you howled that these two were your top pick for the “One of these things is not like the other/THEY FREAKING DON’T BELONG TOGETHER”-prize, I still say that TomKat deserves THAT dishonor. Yes, more than AbhiShwarya, even. Back to reading Maximum City, if you’re not industriously doing something else. ;)

 
 
 
Maybe a DC Meetup This SUNDAY? [Updated]

Meetup Madness at Amma.jpg

[Instead of Saturday at noon, the meetup will be on SUNDAY at 12:30. It is still at Amma. Please be noting date and time change— thanks. :)]

But first, a rushed write-up of what went down last time:

  • Icebreaker: The battle of the Jessicas- who is hotter, Alba or Biel? There were two poultry-submitted abstentions.
  • Adorable Munish changed his vote when he realized he was, in fact, supporting an Alumna of Seventh Heaven: “I thought you meant the woman from Flashdance!”
  • Once we started playing, “Who has the tiniest apt” after one of you suggested having meetups in our homes, Jay said we should have used THAT as the icebreaker—“Hi, I’m ___ and I have 400 sq ft!”
  • It was the reverse of our college years— Southies Reprazent!
  • There was a minor TamBrahm crisis when we discovered that Amma had run out of vada, for the first time in nine years.
  • I was smacked. Thrice. By our waiter. You can’t put a price on that kind of abuse.
  • Two of the above three spankings occurred as THIRTEEN more people than the sixteen we expected showed.
  • Once we ran out of table space: “Start sitting on laps. Sigh. I guess I’ll begin.” Plop.
  • What is UP with the lack of RSVPing, meetup-crashers: “This isn’t a wedding, people!”
  • Murthy’s Law: Next time, we should reserve the entire restaurant. That way no one will show.
  • We actually had to turn people away, for lack of space. :(
  • Can’t make it to the bathroom to wash your hands? Use the “Indian Faucet” a.k.a. a poorly-approximated finger bowl via drinking glass
  • Subcontinental Drift (we love you!)‘s MySpace page might induce seizures.
  • Me to Jay (of the blog Weaselplasty) “All our friends are apparently stand-up comics (and they performed at SD)”
  • Said one, “Tortoise porn is available on YouTube.” Said the Terp, all dismissively, “I know about THAT”, as the rest of us exhibited the proper reaction to that statement, which is shock and horror.
  • One attendee confessed that while this meetup was fabulous, they had “hobbit envy” about Houston.
  • Library Science: it gets no respect
  • Second Best line of the meetup: “Why are men always giving me money and then leaving?”
  • A Tamil girl who was raised in Bombay tried to reconcile her identities by saying…she was like a “paneer dosa”
  • Paneer Dosa has said she will be at the June meetup; that way you can mock her for her metaphor in person! ;)
  • I ordered two Salt Lassis and four Madras Kappis.  I received ONE Madras Kappi.
  • Lemon Rice for me, dosas for EVERYONE ELSE
  • Best line of the meetup: “Your picture on Shaadi.com was so much better!”
  • More on Sunny Leone and the greatness of snuff films.
  • Despite our most obnoxious attempts to be porntastic in order to clear the restaurant, so more of us could be seated, the packed place wasn’t bothered at all by our antics. Contrast this with Heritage India, where we sent them screaming out the door. It would appear that South Indian families are immune to our offensiveness. :)

Now, after reading the merriment-filled minutes of our last meetup, who feels like getting together again for more? :) I’m craving dosa and you, well, after I published this post, I learned that you are ALL craving dosa, ALL the time.

WHERE: Amma’s Vegetarian Kitchen, 3291 M St. NW, Washington, DC 20007, 202-625-6625

WHEN: SUNDAY, JULY 1. 12:30 PM.

WHY: Because you nosy little monkeys want to pepper me for non-existant gossip about the Mutiny.

Think of it as a post-Subcontinental Drift “survivors’ brunch”. Kill your hangover with Madras Kappi and Rasam! :D

::

As for New York…Maybe mid-late July? :)

::

San Francisco? End of August, we’ll keep you posted.

 
 
Kingfisher Airlines -- coming soon to the U.S.

I always find it a little suspect when people try to do novelty airlines, maybe because I’m one of those paranoid people who, even after years of flying and hundreds of flights, still routinely thinks “We’re all going to die!” at least two or three times on any given flight. Thus, I will never fly the now-grounded “Hooters Air,” even if it does come back. (Guys, keep your eyes on the… cockpit? please?)

Kingfisher Airlines might end up as a better bet, but as might be proper in an airline that emerged out of a beer company, if I do ever fly with them I’ll still probably feel compelled to smell the pilot’s breath before I take my seat. Apparently, Kingfisher Airlines, one of India’s newer domestic carriers, has signed a deal with Airbus to buy several jumbo and superjumbo planes, with an eye to entering the international market. The move is part of a general boom in international travel to India (which has been up by about 40% this year alone).

The New York Times article about the event spends as much time talking about the lifestyle of Kingfisher’s flamboyant CEO Vijay Mallya, as it does considering the economic viability of the venture (they do note that Kingfisher Airlines has yet to turn a profit as a domestic carrier in India):

Mr. Mallya personally is the sort of unfettered corporate czar that many American boardrooms have not seen in at least half a century. He surrounds himself with a close group of longtime advisers, wears copious diamonds, holds business meetings at his house until 5 in the morning, winks at female journalists and flaunts the “good times” corporate motif in most aspects of his life.

At home, a Mercedes, a Ferrari and a Bentley are parked in his driveway. His ornate living room is filled with silver gilded furniture and art objects like a marble statue of a nymph-like woman, as well as a Picasso sketch. His CD collection includes dance, lounge and party music.

A group of largely silent young women clad in white deliver drinks, answer phones and clean up ashtrays. (link)

Kya baat hai. Vijay Mallya seems to be a mix of new-school Indian self-confidence and ambition (this is a huge endeavour), and a kind of old-school, “ladies’ man” absurdity that seems to have come out of some 70s Bollywood movie. Even the attractive female flight attendants are a big part of the company’s marketing campaign, which seems like an obvious Vijay Mallya touch (see this article).

In general, I have to say that Kingfisher’s “keep the good times rolling” marketing campaign simply isn’t appealing to me. From an airline I really want the boring things — professionalism, competence, and yeah, safety — not so much “party time.”

But is he perhaps appealing to a real demographic, one that’s a bit less stodgy and paranoid than me? Are people really going to fly Kingfisher “Good Times” Airlines to go to and from the Desh?

 
 
America's Got... Kashif, Hai Hai

America’s Got Talent is kind of the summer replacement for American Idol. For the most part it’s awkward amateurs getting “gonged” by the judges — with the occasional semi-professional dance/martial arts troupe showing up to keep the audience awake. (Oh, and Jerry Springer is in there, just basically being Jerry Springer.) Toward the end of last night’s episode, my jaw dropped when they put this guy on:

What’s your reaction to this? I don’t think it could be rated very highly as a specimen of Bollywood dance, though Kashif is pretty committed to those Hrithik-esque moves he’s doing. He seems very simple and pure; maybe that’s why the judges think he’s charming?

Unfortunately, the innocent-foreigner thing can only take you so far; I think Kashif should show up at the callbacks in Vegas with a flashy B-Boy outfit and a massive diamond necklace (courtesy of Jacob the Jeweler) that says KA$HIF. Otherwise, those shirtless pseudo-martial arts guys (tacky as they are) will eat him for breakfast.

 
 
But Tony, the President still likes Indians...right?

So a funny thing happened at the White House press briefing today. Yes. Of course. Our boy Goyal was at it once again. I recommend anyone drinking milk right now to put their glass down so as to prevent the milk from momentarily spraying out your nostrils. Here we go:

Q Tony, two questions. One, there is disturbing news, and the Indian American community is very angry that Senator Obama and his campaign has been calling the Indian American community taboo and other names, calling names, and all that because of the relations with the Clintons, President Clinton and Hillary Clinton. My question is, how does — what does President think about the Indian American community and his relations with the Indian American community?

MR. SNOW: Well, the President, obviously, is proud of our — the growing closeness of the United States and the Indians. Not to be holding a brief for Senator Obama, but I don’t believe that he made comments of that sort. I do believe that was a staff comment for which he issued apologies. But having said that, it is important to realize that the United States looks upon India as the world’s largest democracy, as an important and vital ally in a whole host of things — regional security, global trade, climate change. I mean, the role of — the importance of India is not to be understated. And we are certainly glad that the relations between the nations continue to draw closer. [Link]

I am trying to wrap my head around this one. I mean, why would the White House have an official position about what an Obama staffer wrote about Sen. Clinton? Is this what reporters assigned to a scandal-plagued White House really want to know about? Then it just gets even funnier:

Q Second, just on Sunday I was in Washington, here at the Verizon Center, over 20,000 Indians, mostly Hindu, gathered together there. And their message was peace and unity, internationally and here also. The question is here that President has gone to all the denominations here, but never to a Hindu temple. And he goes to church, I go to temple, but he is a religious man, so am I. What my question is that this weekend —

MR. SNOW: You want to know if he’s going to go to the temple?

Q This weekend there is a grand opening of Hindu temple in Adelphi, right on the beltway, if he can make it there sometime or —

MR. SNOW: I don’t think that’s on the schedule, and I think you do appreciate, Goyal, that Presidents don’t do casual drop-bys.

Q He has been invited.

MR. SNOW: Again, I appreciate the suggestion. [Link]

Yo, that would be tight if W did a “drop-by.” Any D.C. area mutineers going to be in Adelphi who can let us know? And for those still following the D-Punjab soap opera, Rediff got an exclusive with Obama today:

[Obama] explained that “I think what happened was that the people who were writing the memo thought that to quote back Hillary Clinton was clever somehow. They were wrong and I let them know in no uncertain terms that this was unacceptable.”

Obama acknowledged he had no idea about the document that was being circulated by some members of his campaign staff till the controversy erupted, when the Indian-American community was in uproar and his Indian-American supporters contacted his campaign expressing their concern. [Link]

 
 
 
Rani Mukherjee to Marry...Some Guy

oooh, DRAMA.JPG

…random men everywhere who aren’t Aish/Bips/Shabana-devotees gnash their teeth and shake their fists at the sky impotently. Or not.

Oooooh, DRAMA! An anonymous tipster leaves juicy news on the…well, news tab (via SAWF):

Bollywood star Rani Mukerhee, 29, is all set to marry film maker Aditya Chopra, 36, son of Yash Raj Chopra. A commitment ceremony or “Roka” was held Monday at the Chopra bungalow in Bombay.
A source close to the family told the Hindustan Times: “The roka took place at the same Chopra bungalow where Chandni was shot. Around 60 people (family and friends) attended the ceremony that included Rani’s parents Ram and Krishna Mukherjee, brother Raja and his wife. Present from the Chopra clan were brother Uday, dad Yash Chopra and mum Pamela Chopra.”

Awww, that’s so cute! My last two german shepherds, who were litter-mates, were also named Raja and Rani. And no, I didn’t name them, so shut up.

“Rani wore a maroon saari with silver embroidery and Aditya wore a kurta-pyjama, both designed by designer Pallavi Jaikishan. Pam aunty didn’t seem very happy, as she has a soft corner for Adi’s ex-wife, Payal. Another function will take place at Rani’s house next week,” the source added.

Why do I care, when I am a clue-free Mallu ABCD who has gone on record as not paying attention to Bollywood? Because it’s JUICY. Duh.

Aditya was recently divorced from Payal Chopra, whom he married in 2001.

Ah, so THAT is why anonymous tipster namechecked Angelina Jolie! Apparently, Rani is a homewrecker, but my half- third- quarter-hearted googling found nothing. If the girl Big B got creepy with in KKKG really did break up this guy’s marriage, I’m sure one of you will edify us with confirmation of such sordid details.

According to the Mumbai Mirror, Aditya’s decision to divorce Payal, who is the daughter of a close friend of father Yash Raj, has strained relations between the father and son.

I can’t be the only one thinking…all this would make a great Bollywood movie? Life imitates art…? Annnnnd, I’m bored again. Who wants to talk about Obama, caste or saffron balls? Anyone?

 
 
When landlords get all up in your bidness

It’s bad enough when your parents hound you for being single and ask why you were out so late last night, but the Christian Science Monitor points to the double standard that single women renters face in India at the hands of their prospective (and over-protective) landlords:

It took Chiya Singh three months and seven real estate agents working in tandem to find an apartment to rent in New Delhi.

The problem wasn’t her credit history or salary. It was her status as a single Indian woman. The questions blocking Ms. Singh from a room of her own were a bit personal, she says. Prospective landlords wanted to know why, at age 29, she wasn’t married and why, as a single person, she didn’t want to live with her parents.

“It was an exhausting process,” Singh says, of trying to find her own place after she divorced. “I became a broken record. They asked ‘Why do you want to live alone?’ I said, ‘Um, because I think I’m old enough.’ “

That response usually netted Singh a cold expression and a vague “We’ll let you know” from the landlord. [Link]

Because, I mean…why would a single woman want to live by herself?

In India, “If you want freedom, it can only be for one thing - sex,” Singh says. “You want to tell them [landlords], ‘That’s the last thing on my mind. I think I’m old enough to take care of myself.’ But for the landlord, it becomes an issue of respectability.” [Link]
 
 
"Dutch" isn't veg-friendly.

calculate this.jpg I love reading real newspapers on the weekends (since all I have time for is Express during the week). While lazing through the New York Times this afternoon, I found this six week old “T: Style” article which made me smile, after the conversation I had yesterday with a mutineer…

me: How was dinner?

she: Can I vent?

me: But of course, my little cabbage!

she: I got robbed.

me: OMG, you got mugged???

she: Noooo. I mean…when the bill came.

me: I don’t get it.

she: Of course you do, you’re veg, too.

me: Oh, THAT-a-way

she: Yes. That. A. Way. Not a damned vegetarian entree on the menu AND everyone I was with obviously ordered seafood— not just any seafood…the market-rate stuff.

me: Ah, that which has no price listed.

she: EXACTLY!

me: Ouch.

she: That’s not even the worst of it! You know how I don’t drink??

me: Yeah…?

she: Well, everyone else more than made up for it. 3-4 each.

me: Wow, so you-

she: Subsidized a bunch of fish and vodka. What I ordered came to all of $25 WITH tax and a 20% tip…what I PAID was $72.

me: Sigh. Well, you made the birthday girl happy by being there.

she: True. But, I COULD HAVE GIVEN HER THE $50. Then she’d be happy and I wouldn’t feel so damned ripped-off.

Stop smirking, dear readers. You know you’ve had that EXACT conversation with one of your friends. Half the brown people in Amreeka are Guju* and plenty of them are Jain. :) Quit acting like you are unaware of the plight of the put-upon veggie:

Do birthday parties held in restaurants give you a palm-dampening, heart-palpitating anxiety attack? You’re not alone…
It’s not that we don’t wish many happy returns to B. P. — now blushing in thanks or dashing abashedly to the powder room — really, we do. It’s the guy two chairs down who ordered the foie gras appetizer, Dover sole entree, side of truffled mashed potatoes and three martinis made with designer gin whom we never want to see again.
“Vegetarians always get screwed at these things,” rightly groused a paralegal who is tired of subsidizing other people’s steak frites.
 
 
Suni side up

When my worlds align, you know I’m going to blog it:

SUNI WILLIAMS DAY AT JSC

Help celebrate a major spaceflight milestone as Expedition 15 Flight Engineer and STS-117 crew member Sunita Williams sets a new female long duration spaceflight record. She will surpass Shannon Lucid’s long-held record of 188 days, 4 hours this Saturday, June 16 at 12:47 a.m CDT.

So how do we help celebrate this kick-ass achievement?

To show your support for Suni, wear something red this Friday, June 15 (In honor of her love of the Red Sox). Also on Friday, the Starport cafés will feature 2 eggs “Suni”-side up on Texas Toast for $.99 and Chicken Indian Spiced Malai Murgh for $ 3.49 ala cart and $5.99 Combo. The Chicken breast is coated with a mixture of spices (cumin, garlic, pepper, lemon juice, chopped jalapenos, paprika, and sour cream) then roasted and served with rice.

Oh yeah! Curry in the cafeteria. Have any of you had government institutional food before? This intrepid blogger’s passion for venturing places where no man has gone before compels him to try the chicken on Friday. If I’m ever lucky enough to go in to space someday I am going to make them serve dosas with sour cream and ketchup in the cafeteria when I come down. Let’s pray our girl makes it down ok:

NASA engineers and astronauts are working on innovative ways to fix a tear in the heat shield of the shuttle Atlantis which had taken off last Friday.

One of the methods that could be used to fix the tear would be using a stainless steel wire serving as thread and an instrument with a rounded end resembling a small needle.

This is usually used to repair tears in astronaut suits but may work here as well. [Link]

By the way, Suni’s dog, the terrier she had to leave behind on Earth and who goes by the name of “Flat Gorby,” is becoming kind of famous. You know how people sometimes take pictures of gnomes at different locations around the world? Just type in Flat Gorby in Google and see all the hits the dude has and where he has “visited” while she has been up in space.

 
 
Anand Jon: Now With Less Hair, More Victims

A few of you have sent in tips about Anand Jon’s latest legal issues. Here are some blockquotes about the dirty and disgraced designer, which I ganked from Reuters:

A celebrity fashion designer already accused of raping or sexually assaulting 12 women and girls who came to him as aspiring models was charged on Tuesday with attacks on six additional victims.
Los Angeles prosecutors have now charged Anand Jon, an Indian-born designer who has appeared on the popular television show “America’s Next Top Model,” with a total of 46 counts involving 18 victims, all with ties to the fashion industry and between the ages of 14 and 27.

Anand Jon Alexander, who was notorious for being a douche to our girl Julie Titus during season 3, is out on bail.

The charges against Jon include forcible rape, sexual battery, sexual penetration by a foreign object, sodomy by use of force, forcible oral copulation, false imprisonment by violence, assault with the intent to commit a felony, lewd act on a child, contributing to the delinquency of a minor and sexual exploitation of a child.

Oh, and as for the title of this post…Jon cut his “trademark” flowing tresses. Seventy percent of you had no idea he even had long hair, and I applaud you for your ignorance. Sepia Mutiny: we read TMZ so you don’t have to.

 
 
55Friday: The "'I'm Screwed'/Haiku" Edition

poor butters.jpg

When we 55 each week, it’s usually because I have looked to my iPod for inspiration; I try and choose a meaningful song with which to name our Flash Fiction orgies and yes, it’s almost guaranteed that whatever I select once aired on 120 Minutes.

However, on this freaky Friday, like most of you, I’ve got a screaming/crying blonde on the brain. It seems apposite to use one of her shitty songs, in honor of all this justice she got served. Welcome to “Screwed”, from her eponymously named album which is chock full o’ Scott Storch-tainted crap. Perhaps they should make Miss Hilton listen to it in prison, 24/7, as part of her rehabilitation…I know after 30 seconds of each song, I was clawing off my headphones while vowing to never misbehave again. It’s THAT painful.

The lyrics to “Screwed” (heh) are below the jump. Don’t expect much from them. Wait, what am I saying, you are all too bright for that…though if you’re anything like me, you’ll giggle at the thought that the words “I’m screwed” are repeated eight times (ah, there’s the reason for our title). Perhaps she was humming them to herself in the police car?

No matter, on this Fast Fiction Friday, write 55 words about heiresses, anything Paris’s or what’s fairest. Ignore our topic and write about other stuff, too, as long as you do so with exactly 55 words, since that’s what nanofiction is all about. Not sure how to play? Lookie here:

A literary work will be considered 55 Fiction if it has:
1. Fifty-five words exactly(A non-negotiable rule)
2. A setting,
3. One or more characters,
4. Some conflict, and
5. A resolution. (Not limited to moral of the story)
Many new versions of the 55 Fiction have started to modify on the rules by either ignoring to include conflict, or basing it on a true incident and dramatising it. [wiki]

Having copied and pasted all that, in celebration of today’s delicious victory for right over pink-clad evil, you haiku-freaks can get down, too. Same rules for you, just fit your genius in three lines of carefully-counted syllables.

Finally, if you’re wondering what’s up with our visual aid— it’s from an episode of South Park which aired in December of 2004. “Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset” was hilarious (and it really was the name of the show, so you can’t yell at me for the caption…that’s what I meant by the asterisk, not that you had any way of guessing that):

 
 
Fisk This Frisking!

shame shame sanjay.jpg Tada! It’s a bloated Bollywood star! And he looks thrilled. What’s up, Sanjay Dutt?

A policeman carries out a security check on actor Sanjay Dutt as he arrives at the Terrorist And Disruptive Activities (Prevention) Act court in Mumbai on Thursday.
Dutt has been convicted by the TADA court for illegal possession of weapons under the Arms Act, but has been cleared of the more serious charge of being involved in a terrorist consipracy in the over-decade long trial of the 1993 Mumbai bomb blasts.
…Dutt is facing a prison term after being convicted by the TADA court under the Arms Act for illegal possession of an AK-56 rifle and a 9mm pistol. He has sought exemption from a prison term under the POA (Probation of Offenders Act). [Rediff]

A well-connected, wealthy, famous person looking for special treatment? SHOCKING. While I’m sure you found the content blockquoted above fascinating, the real reason I posted this picture is because I thought you might want to play “Caption that photo!” with it, since that’s what I did.

You know how it’s done, if not, see previous posts with caption games here (the Abhishwarya edition!), here (the Tribe Called Quest edition!) and here (the Sikh and destroy edition!).

 
 
 
An Anxiolytic Post: Bigger Ain't Better

Several months ago, we received the same tip so many times, I started deleting my emails, because I knew exactly what they contained. Read or unread, every one of them was an exclamation-point-enhanced reference to a certain BBC South Asia article which heralded: Condoms ‘too big’ for Indian men

Finally, Siddhartha took one for the team and posted the mildly infamous, Oh, All Right. But You Asked For It, which immediately exploded in to a 400+ comment orgy about the injustice of it all.

this is how it feels to be small.jpg

Fast forward to last night, when Conan mentioned a related bit of news in his monologue, which, after some googling, I found here. My brown brothers, take heart.

From News-Medical.Net:

Women are much more interested in a man’s personality and looks than the size of his penis, but men can experience real anxiety even if they are average sized, according to a research review published in the June issue of the urology journal BJU International.

And this is all based on

the findings of more than 50 international research projects into penile size and small penis syndrome carried out since 1942

Men, it’s all in your head:

A survey of over 50,000 heterosexual men and women found that 66 per cent of men said their penis was average sized, 22 per cent said large and 12 per cent said small. 85 per cent of women were satisfied with their partner’s penile size, but only 55 per cent of men were satisfied.

The commenter formerly known as Prince Al Mujahid for Debauchery quite rightly asked:

What about the girth????????

Your eight question marks now have an answer:

 
 
How Dare You Insult My Papaya!

assh0le.JPG

I’m getting really sick of the unnecessary hate.

Rocker Ozzy Osbourne pulled out of an appearance on “American Idol” because of a former contestant’s hairstyle, according to reports.

As IF. Since when is Ozzy Osbourne fit to judge good hair?

The Black Sabbath star was slated to duet with Sanjaya Malakar on last week’s season finale, but cancelled at the last minute.
A source tells the New York Post’s Page Six column, “When he learned he would have to do a duet with Sanjaya, Ozzie said he didn’t want to be onstage with that idiot.”

Yeah. Insulting Sanjaya Malakar makes you very, very cool. Very edgy.

Aerosmith star Joe Perry was called up as Osbourne’s replacement on the talent-search TV show. [SFGate.com]

Perry, by the way, thought our Papaya was really nice. The video of their performance is here. Unlike some drug-addled has-beens who have the temerity to look down on such fruity goodness, Perry was a gentleman.

I’m not saying Sanjaya is perfect, but the level of criticism he receives is ridiculous and usually racist (though I’m not insinuating that race is at the root of this story). For bat’s sake, Ozzie— you could have said that you didn’t want to do the duet because young Malakar’s voice is awful, in your opinion, but there was no need to call him an idiot. Not when you yourself are guilty of THIS:

Osbourne admitted that, at the height of his drug addiction, he shot 17 cats:
“I was taking drugs so much I was a fucker, The final straw came when I shot all our cats. We had about 17, and I went crazy and shot them all. My wife found me under the piano in a white suit, a shotgun in one hand and a knife in the other”. [wiki]

Sanjaya should have said he didn’t care to be on stage with a cat-killer— oh, wait…he’s too nice and humble to do that.

 
 
 
The Devil Bangs a Gavel

Erstwhile Sepia blogger and fanatical culture vulture Manish would be so proud! A book by a desi author with a desi protagonist without saris, bindis, mehndi, mangoes, spices, or faux indic fonts on the cover!

chambermaidsmall.jpg

Cast your eyes to the right, my friends. Behold the cover for Chambermaid, by Saira Rao. Kinda boring, no? Eh…we’re a fickle bunch.

So what’s this assimilation sensation about, you ask? Well, I have no idea. The book hits shelves in July and the publicists didn’t send a review copy to the bunker (ahem) but given the pre-launch reviews I’ve spotted, this should be decent beach reading. Especially for all you desi lawyer types reading this site. Especially since Ms. Rao clerked for a Federal Appeals Court Judge in real life.

Quick summary:

Sheila Raj is a recent graduate of a top-ten law school with dreams of working for the ACLU, but law school did not prepare her for the power-hungry sociopath, Judge Helga Friedman, who greets her on her first day. While her beleaguered colleagues begin quitting their jobs, Sheila is assigned to a high-profile death penalty case and suddenly realizes that she has to survive the year as Friedman’s chambermaid — not just her sanity, but actual lives hang in the balance.link

Ooh la la! Le Scandale!!

Will this become the next Prada? Who could this eeevil Judge Friedman possibly be? Where have you heard of Saira Rao before? These, and many more of life’s mysteries, will be answered after the jump.

 
 
Winners or a Disgrace? Prime-time shall reveal (live-blogging)

You didn’t think I’d just sit on the sidelines while the Greatest Show on Earth was unfolding did you? The Annual Scripps National Spelling bee wraps up in prime-time tonight! Meet the last of the brown hopefuls (who we must all now pray for as they represent the best of desi-dom):

Name: Kavya Shivashankar

Favorite movie: Spellbound

Favorite TV show: The View (she reportedly got into it with Rosie when she went on)

Abhi’s Scouting Report: She has experience under her belt and stormed into the final rounds last year. Not to mention she plays the violin. A victory by her would also resurrect the name “Kavya” from its current place in infamy.

 
 
Stop Your Hooking

Because Akka loves you, she feels like nagging your misbehaving kundis about something you should not do (via the AP and one anonymous tipster on the news tab):

Smoking a hookah may be as dangerous as cigarettes, the World Health Organisation said, adding that more research was needed into the link between the use of the water pipe and several fatal illnesses. It said that a person can inhale a hundred times more smoke – a mixture of tobacco, molasses and fruit flavours – in a hookah session than in one cigarette. Hookah, or shisha, smoking is a tradition in North Africa and the Middle East. [Linkaya]

I’ve heard so many people declare that smoking a hookah is “nowhere near as dangerous” as “regular” smoking, I had to post this. I hope those delusional darlings are reading this and realigning their thoughts accordingly.

Also, while the blurb states that Shisha is popular in North Africa and the Middle East, it is also popular with brown people, especially the annoying ones who won’t quit staring at Prince Cafe in Georgetown, at 3am when all a girl is trying to do is innocently get her mirchi Aloo Chole on. What is it with our people and the shameless gawking?

It would be one thing if this were Iowa circa 1968 and two lonely Namesake-era desis were curiously gazing at each other in a room full of Amreekans, the desire for recognition, i.e. that knowing “gang recognize gang”-moment apparent on their homesick visages, but this is D.C. and out of the sixty people at Prince, the only white guy is the Romanian Orthodox dude behind the counter. We have taken over. The “Arrrre you Yindian??”-bit is thus uncalled for in this uberdesi day and age.

Wait, what was I saying? Oh yeah. QUIT EFFING SMOKING. That hacking cough ain’t attractive, y’all. Back to your regularly scheduled troll-baiting, spelling bee-dissing and witty comment-making then.

 
 
Ask a Desi

Gustavo Arellano runs a nationally syndicated column titled “Ask a Mexican” which began three years ago (first as a joke) in the OC Weekly. A while back, over the tip-line, someone suggested we run a similar column. I think it’s a good idea. I think I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna be the “Desi” with the answers. So…if you have any questions for a Desi (or Indian, South Asian, whatever you prefer) I am now your man. Send them my way at abhi [at] sepiamutiny dot com. I will try to answer at least one question a week and I will only tackle questions sent via email and not via the comments. I will more than likely ask my bunker mates to opine on certain inquiries, especially if they are more qualified desis for a particular question. To get you in the mood, here is the latest “Ask a Mexican” column:

Q: Is it true that there are a lot more Mexicans hooking up with East Indians now? I know a few mixed Mexican-Indian couples, and I’ve heard that in some parts of the country, there are communities full of Mexican Hindus (products of Mexican-East Indian intermarriage). Is it true that this is a rising trend? If so, do you have any advice for young Indian-Americans interested in attracting Mexican girls or guys?

—El Otro Tipo de Indio

A: Dear Other Type of Indian: I try not to answer questions about interethnic amor (that’s more of a Dan Savage thing), but I’ll run yours because it allows me to plug Making Ethnic Choices: California’s Punjabi Mexican Americans. This fascinating 1994 ethnography by University of California Irvine anthropology professor Karen Leonard studies Mexican women in the United States who married men from the Punjab region of what’s now India and Pakistan during the first half of the 20th century. There are muchos similarities between Mexican and Punjabi cultures — a love of flatbreads (tortillas and rotis), spicy cuisine and loud, drum-based music (banda and bhangra, respectively) — but Leonard concludes that American immigration policies barring most Asian women from entering this country inspired many of the unions, and that both Mexican and Indian-American communities (never mind the gabachos) discriminated against these families… [Link]

Please, ask this macaca all kinds of questions and not just cheesy relationship questions. I just want to heal. Like Dr. Phil. Or Frasier Crane.

 
 
 
Sleeping with the Secretary

“Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.” — Henry Kissinger

Despite their staunch alliance, relations between Pakistan and the USA are … tense. If you were a Pakistani Prime Minister, what could be more natural than … a more personal approach to break the ice, to fill the yawning gap, to closely bring together two former intimates, these two strange bedfellows?

“Shortcut” Aziz gets shot down

According to the new biography of Condoleezza Rice, Shaukat Aziz tried to (ahem) charm Dr. Rice when she visited Islamabad in 2005:

Aziz “tried this Savile Row-suited gigolo kind of charm: ‘Pakistan is a country of rich traditions,’ staring in (Rice’s) eyes …When Rice sat down with Prime Minister Shaukat Aziz, who fancied himself as a ladies’ man, Aziz puffed himself up and held forth in what he obviously thought was his seductive baritone,” the book says. [Link]

Aziz was not some wide eyed naïf when it came to the ways of the West. He was a former ibanker, a VP at Citibank who had worked in London, Athens and New York. He may have had good reason to consider himself an experienced ladies man, a master of international affairs as it were, but he clearly met his match:

He bragged — to Western diplomats, no less — that he could conquer any woman in two minutes… There was this test of wills where he was trying to use all his charms on her as a woman, and she just basically stared him down … By the end of the meeting, he was babbling. The Pakistanis were shifting uncomfortably. And his voice visibly changed…” [Link]

He could conquer any woman in two minutes Pakistan’s response to these reports is that it’s all a cross-cultural misunderstanding:

Pakistan’s deputy information minister Tariq Azeem said that Aziz was only being polite. “The prime minister wanted to be nice with Dr. Rice,” Azeem told AFP. “Our tradition is that we should talk to women gently and decently and this was what the prime minister did…” [Link]

Poor Aziz. He completely miscalculated in his approach :

Rice, according to friends and family, had a thing for bad boys… [Li