August 2015 Southern California Edition

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Does Baahubali Deliver? by Aniruddh Chawda

Will the Real Bobby Jindal Please Stand Up? Go Kale Green for Summer by Shanta Sacharoff by Sarita Sarvate

INDIA CURRENTS Celebrating 29 Years of Excellence

The Stories We Tell Does Indian American fiction need to return to India for cultural significance? by Anita Felicelli

august 2015 • vol. 29, no .5 • www. indiacurrents.com



W

ith an instinctive distaste for the mutation of characters I’d grown up with, I began reading Go Set a Watchman, the manuscript written by Harper Lee, author of the much beloved To Kill a Mockingbird. I told myself that it was not Atticus Finch, at least not the Atticus Finch who accompanied me to my school and college dorms, not the one who nestled beside me on those desperately home-sick nights, assuring me that “sometimes we have to make the best of things, and the way we conduct ourselves when the chips are down ...” or the one who explained that the way to understand another person’s point of view is to “climb into his skin and walk around in it.” I carried my dog-eared copy of To Kill a Mockingbird to places I had never been to and places I was familiar with, believing that there was a little bit of Finch in all people I met. The newly released Atticus Finch is a man I do not know. He occupies the body of the man I have never forgotten, in a place I remember—Mayfield, Alabama— along with people who are similar, but not entirely the same. Finch is older but much less wiser, portrayed as a polite segregationist. Jean Louise is in her twenties and is no longer the spunky and impulsive sixyear-old Scout displaying the frightening careless courage of young children who are not quite used to serious consequences. Sometimes the new Finch says the same things that he once did, but without the conviction I was accustomed to. Who is this unfamiliar Finch who bears a passing resemblance to the old, much loved character? Yet, it seemed to me, that before I raced to kill this re-introduced Finch, I needed to confront my unease. I needed to climb into his skin. The release of Harper Lee’s first draft of a timeless bestseller is perhaps a droll commentary on the subjectivity with which we view events that shape the way we think. We see this play out in our lives frequently. The same event can be seen in diametrically different ways. Take Donald Trump’s pronouncements that Mexicans “are bringing [to America] drugs, and bringing crime, and their rapists.” What seemed to me to be obvious

To Kill a Finch racist paranoia, a Mercury News letter to the editor reframed as “a hurricane of fresh air and truth. It takes a dark horse like Donald Trump with all his mega fortune, courage and love of country to accomplish this.” I’ve encountered the same black and white polarization to news of the world very often. No matter how fallacious and heinous I think an argument is there are always going to be some people who will adopt it as their truth. The thing I’ve come to understand is that the freedom of our press/blog/points of view on the Internet allows us readers to validate and sustain our theories by reading from sources that agree with our belief systems, our values, and our biases leading to even more divergence of ideologies. Recently at a dinner with some visitors from India I quoted an article in The Economist, which talked about a fence being constructed by India at its border with Bangladesh to keep out illegal migrants, and I was soundly chided for being “brainwashed by the American media.”

And yet it’s not even that we cull our own sources of information to validate what we believe. It’s also the way we read (and what we watch on television). The subjectivity of our reading process is colored by the aggregation of our experiences. The act of reading, then, works out to be a refinement of our world view. With the two disparate and distinct Atticus Finches, given life by the same author, it seems allegorical to the way we are continually urged to re-code and re-consider our truths and moralities. Therefore, I reason, both the Finches are necessary to form that composite image that Lee imagined. The Finch that actor Gregory Peck portrayed was brewed to heart-warming perfection, but the Finch of Go Set a Watchman could be a more granular representation of who we are; an illustration of how we could derive and evolve from who we were.

Jaya Padmanabhan, Editor

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INDIA CURRENTS August 2015 • vol 29 • no 5

PERSPECTIVES 1 | EDITORIAL To Kill a Finch By Jaya Padmanabhan

Southern California Edition www.indiacurrents.com

26 | TAX TALK Summer Tax Tips By Rita Bhayani

Find us on

6 | A THOUSAND WORDS The Order of Things By Ragini Tharoor Srinivasan

31 | Q&A The Dark Reality of Madhur Bhandarkar By Suchi Sargam 38 | MUSIC The F-16s - Music that Carries You On By Priya Bhatt Das

7 | FINANCE Can We Stay Wealthy in this Market? By Prabhu Palani 14 | NOT FOR PROFIT One Million Smiles Served By Gayatri Subramaniam 18 | OPINION India, Poverty and The Economist By Atanu Dey 22 | FICTION Miss, Dolly and Hulk By Jyothi Vinod 32 | MEDIA The Gay Kiss of Death By Sandip Roy 40 | ON INGLISH The Churidar Gets a Nod By Kalpana Mohan 56 | THE LAST WORD Will the Real Bobby Jindal Please Stand Up? By Sarita Sarvate

LIFESTYLE

8 | The Stories We Tell Why do writers make fictional characters more Indian than Indian American? By Anita Felicelli

33 | Desi Voice Hibiscus By Gauri Sirur

42 | RECIPES Go Kale Green for Summer By Shanta Sacharoff 51 | HEALTHY LIFE Why Nothing is My Favorite Meal of the Day By Nihaal Karnik, Ronesh Sinha 54 | DEAR DOCTOR How Do I Continue On in a Love-less Marriage? By Alzak Amlani

DEPARTMENTS

34 | Travel In the Arms of the Himalayas By Sharmila Pal

4 | Letters to the Editor 17 | Popular Articles 20 | Ask a Lawyer 21 | Visa Dates

WHAT’S CURRENT

28 | Films Reviews of Baahubali and ABCD2

45 | Spiritual Calendar 46 | Cultural Calendar

By Aniruddh Chawda August 2015 | Southern California | www.indiacurrents.com | 3


letters to the editor facebook.com/IndiaCurrents twitter.com/IndiaCurrents Now published in three separate editions HEAD OFFICE 1885 Lundy Ave Ste 220, San Jose, CA 95131 Phone: (408) 324-0488 Fax: (408) 324-0477 Email: info@indiacurrents.com www.indiacurrents.com Publisher: Vandana Kumar publisher@indiacurrents.com Managing Director: Vijay Rajvaidya md@indiacurrents.com Editor: Jaya Padmanabhan editor@indiacurrents.com (408) 324-0488 x226 Events Editor: Mona Shah events@indiacurrents.com (408) 324-0488 x224 Advertising Department ads@indiacurrents.com Northern California: (408) 324-0488 x 225 Southern California: (714) 523-8788 x 225 Sales Associate: Anu B anu@indiacurrents.com (408) 324-0488 x 222 Marketing Department Ritu Marwah ritu@indiacurrents.com Graphic Designer: Nghia Vuong WASHINGTON, D.C. BUREAU (Managed by IC New Ventures, LLC) 910 17th Street, NW, Ste# 215 Washington, D.C. 20006 Phone: (202) 709-7010 Fax: (240) 407-4470 Associate Publisher: Asif Ismail publisher-dc@indiacurrents.com (202) 709-7010 Cover Design: Nghia Vuong Cover Photo Credit: Priya Living INDIA CURRENTS® (ISSN 0896-095X) is published monthly (except Dec/Jan, which is a combined issue) for $19.95 per year by India Currents, 1885 Lundy Ave., Ste 220, San Jose, CA 95131. Periodicals postage paid at San Jose, CA, and at additional mailing offices. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to INDIA CURRENTS, 1885 LUNDY AVE, STE. 220, SAN JOSE, CA 95131 Information provided is accurate as of the date of going to press; India Currents is not responsible for errors or omissions. Opinions expressed are those of individual authors. Advertising copy, logos, and artwork are the sole responsibility of individual advertisers, not of India Currents. Copyright © 2015 by India Currents All rights reserved. Fully indexed by Ethnic Newswatch

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Native Language and Mother Tongue

Ragini Srinivasan (India Currents, “You Lose it in a Generation,” July 2015) writes “Choosing or not choosing to speak the language is no choice at all, and cannot be vested with undue significance by the arbiters of Indian authenticity.” Well said. Growing up in south India, particularly, one does not speak anything but English in convent schools. I hesitate when people ask me what my native language is. Yes, I have one, but I think and dream in English, so what’s my answer? Another person with an American husband here ... and my kids can follow a few directives in Tamil, but they can never answer me in Tamil because they’ve never heard the appropriate responses in this house. Gayatri Subramaniam, CA, facebook Congratulations on a very aptly written article true for most non-English immigrant families. It is definitely a big dilemma. My own children have managed to establish bilingual households so that our grandchildren are reasonably fluent in Hindi. However this is pretty nigh impossible to achieve in a mixed marriage where the partners’ mother tongues are different. It would have been nice if the author had also touched on the desirability or need to maintain links with mothertongues. In fact I wonder what role it plays in helping us keep in touch with our culture and heritage assuming that it is something to be cherished (actually not, if you look at the corrupt politicians and self-serving Rajas, Maharajahs of the past who did not think twice before selling out to the highest bidder). Even so there is much to learn and admire in our old Vedic knowledge, which sadly we do not imbibe just by learning the language. Languages improve our lives by greater access to knowledge. Sadly though this is gradually becoming more and more difficult to achieve as languages, rather than growing with the times, are dying out. Exceptions include Chinese and Japanese languages that have kept up with modern developments so that they do not have to resort to English to make sense of our new ways of living. On the contrary, in India,

we have to resort to English for any understanding of the modern world. Vijay Modi, UK, facebook

A Speech, a Salute, a Mistake

I am the grandmother of three (one has graduated and two are still in college), who will all get copies of the speech given by your editor, Jaya Padmanabhan at San Jose State University (India Currents, “Why a Software Engineer Became a Writer,” July 2015). As a “non desi” I LOVE the monthly India Currents with its collection of fine articles. Keep up the good work. Dee Lindner, Culver City, CA The Convocation Speech given by Jaya Padmanabhan to San Jose State University’s Computer Science Department was truly inspiring—intimately sharing her personal experiences and weaving valuable life lessons. If I may, I would like to point out a minor flaw (the software engineer in me could not “let it pass” as-is). The reference to “Salem march” should actually have been “Selma march” (in reference to the voting rights movement in 1965 in Selma, Alabama). Prakash Narayan, Milpitas, CA This is a very well written speech/article. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I like the author’s deep thinking. There are better ways of contributing to the society than just being a software engineer. Congratulations! Naresh Batra, CA, facebook I enjoyed the speech very much and like the author’s advice to her daughter to study coding. For me, it was studying geometry that taught me so much about thinking through my writing in a methodical, logical way and have advised students to study something similar. (They laugh.) Lori Ostlund, facebook

SPEAK YOUR MIND!

Have a thought or opinion to share? Send us an original letter of up to 300 words, and include your name, address, and phone number. Letters are edited for clarity and brevity. Write India Currents Letters, 1885 Lundy Ave. Suite 220, San Jose 95131 or email letters@indiacurrents.com.


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a thousand words

The Order of Things By Ragini Tharoor Srinivasan

O

n June 25, four and a half months shy of her 99th birthday, my great-grandmother, M. (Mundarath) Jayasankhini, took her final sips of milk from the hands of her second oldest son and passed away. For years, they said, she had drunk only milk and tea, refusing to take water, not even the amber-tinged jeeraka vellam boiled with cumin. When her husband, Karat Theyunni Menon, died in 1967, she gave up drinking water entirely, an astonishing, self-abnegating vow that, in retrospect, was a fitting portent of the otherworldly matriarch she would become. When I heard the news, I was sitting at a table in suburban California with my mother and my grandmother, who is Jayasankhini Amma’s eldest daughter. My daughter—representing the fifth generation of our matriline, and Jayasankhini Amma’s only great-great-grandchild at the time of her death—was asleep nearby. The call came of a sudden, as it always does, on a long-distance line from India that would at one time have marked its faraway origins, the miles and time zones traveled, with static. But this call was clear, and it came just minutes after my great-grandmother’s death. As my mother hung up the phone, mourning messages from family around the world popped up on WhatsApp. When my grandmother, doubly anguished by the fact of her mother’s death and that of her own absence, phoned the home of one of her sisters—who, like Jayasankhini Amma, lives in the village of Elevanchery, near Kollengode town, in Palakkad district, in the southern Indian state of Kerala—she, my grandmother, was alarmed to find that she had to notify an ailing brother-in-law of the news. A death that had already made waves online, on email, on phones, and instant messages had not yet found its way down the street, up into the compound of the local temple, and into the ears of the virtually un-connected. I’ve written about my great-grandmother before, about the telepathic grandmother tongue that bridged our generational divide, her Malayalam and my English, her abstinence and my hydraulic indulgence, her nation-bound domesticity and my comparatively cosmopolitan careers. “We look nothing alike,” I wrote in 2010, despite the literal fact of our blood-bond, the fractional mathematics of ancestry. “I owe my existence,” I marveled, to “a woman I hardly know.” This, I see now, was somewhat overstating the case. We all owe our existences to people we don’t, can’t, and won’t know, related and foreign, near and far. Our lives are suffused with unpaid and unpayable debts, the full knowledge of which is (mercifully) beyond our capacity. The unknowability of my great-grandmother— who had eight children, 19 grandchildren (including one famous one, 29 great-grandchildren, and one great-great-grandchild, and who was, therefore, only ever rhetorically “mine”—is to that end like the unknowability of the Dead Sea, of the vegetal capacity for feeling, of the existence of God, the afterlife, and alien beings. It is something to live with, a reminder that the world is a place of mystery, and that, despite all evidence to the contrary, we, too, have the capacity to retain our impenetrable depths. The last time I saw Jayasankhini Amma was on her 97th birth6 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California |August 2015

day, November 11, 2013. I had gone to India with my mother and five-month-old daughter with the express purpose of introducing the latter to her great-great-grandmother. I remember changing Mrinalini from a cotton onesie into a silk pavada as a taxi drove us over potholed roads from Kochi to our ancestral tharavadu. Scores of relatives were waiting for us there. We were late. We had held up the photographers and delayed lunch. But Mrinalini was unexpectedly chipper. She sat on her great-greatgrandmother’s lap and chewed thoughtfully on her fingers, while cameras buzzed. Afterward, I walked around the veranda as Mrinalini napped in a Baby Bjorn. The gathering of five generations was recounted many times over; news of the historic gathering made it to the local papers and numerous Facebook pages; a framed picture of Mrinalini and Jayasankhini Amma now sits above my desk. But, in truth, it was a short visit. Nervous of the mosquitoes and limited bathroom facilities, and, by that same token, keen not to impose on my great-grandmother’s ancient staff, who were already pressed by the influx of guests, we opted to spend the night in a hotel in the next town. It was a very short visit: a gathering of bodies, not a meeting of minds. I flew with my five-month-old across the world (no mean feat, I now appreciate), spending thousands of dollars, enlisting my mother to pause her life and accompany me, taking time away from my research, and risking whatever health consequences one risks these days by leaving one’s house, never mind flying to India, for a gathering of bodies that lasted mere hours, and which felt over almost as soon as we’d arrived. A small part of me wondered then—was it worth it? This unnatural fighting of space, time, and distance, this inevitably inadequate effort to connect? Some months later, I learned that Jayasankhini Amma had anticipated our arrival for weeks. That, despite her inability to remember the baby’s name, gender, or eye color, she had woken up many nights in the preceding days, demanding that her maidservants get her camera ready. Against all odds, her quarterJewish, quarter-Christian, Berkeley-born great-great-grandchild, the fifth generation of her line, was coming home. When and for how long was beside the point. How I used to regret, bitterly even, my inability to communicate with my great-grandmother. Our conversations over the years centered on food, weather, her health. I did hear her tell stories, like the one about my grandmother’s, her daughter’s, desire for an idol of baby Krishna. Still, I was never sure she understood what I was trying to say in return. But this is the other thing I see now, from the vantage of motherhood. Sometimes, the point is just to show up. You don’t have to say anything. You don’t even have to understand. n Ragini Tharoor Srinivasan is a doctoral candidate in Rhetoric at UC Berkeley.


finance

Can We Stay Wealthy in this Market? By Prabhu Palani

S

ix years into a bull market run, many of you are probably happy with the performance of your personal portfolio. Stocks have been on a tear since 2009 and just when you think bonds are going to start losing money, they keep producing excellent returns. However, among our great failings as investors are the ability i) to extrapolate the near term performance of assets and ii) to trick our brain into ignoring the weight of past market drops such as the Nasdaq bust of 2000 and the market meltdown of 2008/09.

Bull Markets Produce Excesses

And so it is with some bemusement that I read an article in the Wall Street Journal recently (“Social Media Feed Latest Stock Craze” of April 22, 2015). Surprise, surprise—the next wave of stock gurus are back. Back in the heydays it was George Gilder with his fantastic predictions of never-ending excess returns on this new invention called the Internet. This time around, the Journal informs us, social media has spawned a new set of agile, quick-triggered market experts in the avatar of a 36-year-old former club promoter who now trades full-time and has a personal portfolio of $1 million, and a former fitness instructor, now Twitterstock-guru, who shares her insights for $99.95 a month!

Extrapolating Good Times

No matter what time has taught us, and no matter what empirical finance (i.e. rigorous academic literature) has taught us, most of us like to simply extrapolate recent good times. We cannot face a world of catastrophe or ever-plunging stock values; we cannot comprehend a world where markets will only return a measly 3% to 5% over the next 20 years. That simply does not fit in with our own optimistic view of the world or the way we have planned our future and retirement.

A Creative Commons Image by gotcredit.com

Unfortunately, for all the optimists among us, markets simply do not follow any specific pattern in the short run. Worse, we do not even know what “short run” really means. Bear markets can last for a few months to several years. But hope springs eternal and inevitably ends in disaster and it is usually the retail investor who gets most affected. I shudder to think of how this one will end, for not only the new wave of stock market gurus but for all those poor suckers who follow them right to the top and then fall parachute-less to the bottom of the canyon.

Losing Money?

The bad news is this—even though we look around us and see the markets climbing relentlessly, we can lose plenty of money. We can lose money relative to the market (i.e. our portfolios still produce positive results but lag market returns) and we can lose money in the absolute sense (while the market is going up, our portfolio actually has negative returns). Worse still, we can be caught completely unprepared for the next market decline or meltdown and lose a considerable amount of our net worth. I am not here to rain on your parade but merely to highlight the necessity of being aware of what is happening around us, the unpredictability of markets, and the potential scenarios that can unfold in the

future. However, lest I sound too pessimistic, let me also give you the good news.

The Temperament of Wealth

We CAN make money in the markets, we can grow wealthy, and we can certainly preserve wealth. The qualities required to prosper over long periods of time are temperament, humility, and patience. It requires one to step out of the easy trap of greed and fear, the prime movers of markets over shorter time frames. Over the past century and more, no asset class has outperformed stocks in a risk-adjusted, liquid manner. Commodities, real estate, and bonds have all fulfilled their purpose of providing diversification, returns, and risk-reduction to portfolio holdings. A judicious mix of asset classes, long time horizons, and the ability to ride volatility are the keys to coming out on top. n Prabhu Palani, CFA, was formerly a managing director and the head equity strategist at Mellon Capital Management in San Francisco, CA. Previously he was senior vice president and portfolio manager at Franklin Templeton Investments and Principal, Portfolio Manager at Barclays Global Investors. Prabhu holds graduate degrees from Stanford University and the University of Delaware and is a member of the CFA Institute and the Institute of Chartered Accountants of India.

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cover

The Stories We Tell By Anita Felicelli

Early Indian American writers were mostly not writing about second-generation children of programmers, engineers and doctors, or about motel owners or taxi cab drivers or small business owners. They were writing about the upper echelon of educated first generation Indians in America. What links their books is nostalgia and love for India, their own wistful version of what India was. But why are our lives here less interesting than the lives our parents left behind? The value of any story should be more in how it’s told than in its plot, so there isn’t any reason to think that the lives of Indian Americans should be intrinsically less interesting than the lives of Indians in India.

I

n fall 2012, I read an essay on the mainstream literary website The Millions that got me thinking. “The New Wave: On the State of Indian Fiction in America” was written by Keith Meatto a white writer and editor discussing Indian American fiction. Using an episode from Fox’s New Girl as a starting point, he argued that the average American had only a superficial understanding of Indian culture, and yet Indian culture had infiltrated American pop culture. Meatto noted that Indians were one of the fastest growing ethnic groups in America, and in literary fiction. He pointed to the short story collections of Rajesh Parameswaran, Tania James, and Hari Kunzru as heirs to three decades of literary success in English literature. Meatto pointed out that all three have impeccable credentials (with degrees from Yale, Harvard and Oxford), now live in New York 8 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California |August 2015

City and write about identity. It is actually four decades of literary success—Meatto was evidently not familiar with Bharati Mukherjee’s early novels, which were pioneering at the time they were written—the ‘70s and ‘80s. Meatto plainly intended to be complimentary, calling attention to how strong, thriving Indian literature is. He concluded his essay by noting a scene from Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Interpreter of Maladies in which an American woman tries to buy Hot Mix and the clerk answers “Too spicy for you” and says that perhaps one day this scene will be outmoded. Far from taking heart, however, the essay left me feeling uncomfortable. The essay assumes that the reader of an online article isn’t Indian or Indian American. Ironic since India possesses a stronger reading culture than America does. (According to a Paris Review infographic, In-

dians read on average 10:42 hours per week compared to the United States reader who reads on average of 5:42 hours per week). Plainly it wasn’t Meatto’s intent to offend anyone, but I found his project— a white reader/writer explaining Indian American novels to The Millions readers, assumed to be white Americans not acquainted with Indian writers or culture, troubling. I started following Indian American fiction more closely to see if I could understand why our authors—many of whom write in the predominant American style of domestic realism anyway— needed to be explained to white readers.

The Infinite Return

While Tania James, just for example, wrote gorgeously about second-generation Indian Americans in her short story collection Aerogrammes, for both her novels At-


I’ve been asked on multiple occasions why a character is Indian, or whether I could make characters more Indian ...

las of Unknowns and The Tusk That Did the Damage, she returned to India. And this is true for nearly every Indian American author—some portion of their novels returns readers to India. It is an infinite return. In late 2013 and early 2014, however, I saw some shifts. Nina McConigley’s Cowboys and East Indians won the Pen Open Book Awards. It probed the lives of Indians in America and Americans in India in a wholly different way—with an eye towards race and a more postmodern perception of what “exotic” might mean. Mira Jacobs’s A Sleepwalker’s Guide To Dancing considers the second-generation experience of a brother and sister. Both authors do visit India in their work, but their feet are firmly planted in America and everyday Indian American interpretations of events. Neither romanticizes India. Both, from my perspective, offer something important—Indian American fiction as

American, or something more than that infinite return to the motherland.

Writing as a Person of Color

Early in 2014, the #WeNeedDiverseBooks campaign trended on Twitter and Junot Diaz’s phenomenal essay in The New Yorker was published. Diaz wrote about writing as person of color in an MFA program that was predominantly white and full of micro-aggressions related to voice and ethnicity, and how a fellow writer of color in his workshop dropped out and never wrote again. I identified so strongly with Diaz—I’ve attended perhaps 15 workshops over a period of two decades and while nobody was hostile to me, in more than half I’ve fielded lots of clueless comments from white writers. I’ve been asked on multiple occasions why a character is Indian, or whether I could make characters more Indian and

told that if some character’s awkwardness with women is cultural, I should say so. One lauded writing teacher argued that one of my characters was too harsh in a particular situation, not understanding the cultural stigma surrounding mental illness in Tamil culture. He didn’t tell me how to make this cultural difference comprehensible to a white American reader, but being unaware of cultural norms (and assuming he knew the cultural norms because he admired and knew Akhil Sharma’s earlier work) took it as a lack of realism. Since I’ve taken my husband’s Italian last name the comments on manuscripts in workshops have been mostly more amusing than offensive: “You wrote about this in a way that seems culturally authentic!” about an Indian wedding. I wrote to the very talented and innovative Rajesh Parameswaran, a fellow Tamil American, to ask whether he’d felt any pressure from workshop instructors, agents, or editors to write a traditional immigrant narrative. I framed my question around Jhumpa Lahiri’s biting comment to an interviewer in connection with her promotion of The Lowland that all American fiction is immigrant fiction. He wrote back to me: “There is no contradiction between being an Indian-American writer and being an American writer. That is one of the advantages of living in this multi-ethnic democracy. I have only ever written about what interests me, whether it be talking animals or spies or immigrants, and have never felt any pressure from anyone in publishing to push my writing towards straightforwardly “immigrant fiction.” At the same time, I think Jhumpa Lahiri is probably right that all American fiction is immigrant fiction. ... In the sense that everyone is in some way an outsider, the immigrant condition is just a distilled version of the human condition, or maybe vice versa. If you see a trend of Indian-American writers moving away from classical “immigrant narratives” towards other kinds of narratives, perhaps this reflects a generational shift, the rise of an age that no longer feels the traditional immigrant dilemmas so acutely.” I actually don’t see most IndianAmerican writers moving away from immigrant narratives, but found it intriguing that Parameswaran saw the state of American fiction, most of which doesn’t reflect much of the diversity I see daily,

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as a reflection of the times in which we live.

Designated by Race

Another Indian American author who also writes in a more innovative mode is Ravi Mangla. Mangla’s first novel Understudies was published by the small press Outpost 19. The novel has a white American narrator and features themes of fame and celebrity. It doesn’t explicitly feature anything about the immigrant Indian experience and there is no return to India in the narrative. I listened to an interview with Mangla on literary entrepreneur Brad Listi’s podcast “Other People,” in which Mangla talked about a childhood that was not traditionally Indian. When I wrote to him, I asked whether he had purposely left out cultural markers and whether his decision to leave these out had to do with his nontraditional childhood. Mangla wrote back: “For this book I felt that assigning an ethnicity to the narrator would distract from the larger themes. I wanted to write a book about our national obsession with fame and democratization of celebrity in the media age, and I wasn’t sure I could seamlessly integrate race into the story, so I decided—for better or worse—to leave it out altogether. While I did have [a] non-traditional childhood, I think any resistance I have to using cultural markers in my fiction has more to do with literary influences. The writers I fell in love with when I was starting out (Donald Barthelme, Robert Coover, David Foster Wallace, among others) were always more interested in language and form than plot and character. Some of that certainly rubbed off on me. I’m still searching for a way to incorporate my cultural background into my

Ravi Mangla

10 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California |August 2015

fiction—hopefully in a way that enhances the text and doesn’t just serve as false exoticism. With that said, I do feel the experience of being a first-generation Indian-American is present in my work, even if characters aren’t explicitly designated by race. The idea of displacement figures into all my fiction, and it’s something every Indian-American feels at one time or another. Understudies is, at its heart, a fish-out-of-water story.” This feeling of displacement Mangla points out is, I think, what unites Indian American authors in spite of striking regional, cultural and generational differences.

Mangoes, Spices and Monsoons

In August 2014, I read a discomfiting essay by Pakistani-American novelist Jabeen Akhtar in the Los Angeles Review of Books entitled “Why Am I Brown? South Asian Fiction and Pandering to Western Audiences.” Akhtar compares diasporic desi literature to desi food, noting that “Unfortunately for South Asian writing, what the publishing industry has decided is best for Western readers is pandering, cliché-heavy, lunch-buffet fiction that’s easy to digest and doesn’t contain too many weird, foreign ingredients.” Citing a statement by the novelist Jeet Thayil, Akhtar argues against South Asian diaspora novels that speak of “mangoes, spices, and monsoons.” She claims that

We are only about 1% of Americans as of 2013. What is the impact of that on the art we produce?

Tania James

desi writers and readers see nothing of the real India in these novels because they contain stereotypical depictions designed for white readers. It is a thesis or idea that tends to be supported by the numbers. Last year Publisher’s Weekly noted dismal diversity figures in the predominantly white publishing industry. (It should be noted that the head of the large publisher Knopf is Indian American.) However, I’ve previously interviewed Indian novelist Jeet Thayil, and during our interview it seemed clear to me that when complaining about sari and mango novels, he was complaining about Indian novels in India. These are novels that might be exported to America, not the work of Indian Americans as Akhtar claims. By the end of her essay, I wondered if Akhtar and I have read any of the same books when it comes to diasporic fiction. In particular, Akhtar’s complaints about the theme of identity crisis in American literature by Indian Americans arises from “Why am I brown in a white world?” and claims that it is “inherently limited in scope” because these characters “sound like whiny assholes.” But actually this is a fairly unusual theme for Indian American fiction for adults.

Brown in a White-Black Binary Frame?

In fact, I haven’t read a single Indian American work of fiction that is solely or even primarily about how hard it is to grow up brown in a white world. If anything we need more fiction that plumbs this underexplored terrain—in inventive ways—that’s where true innovation in our storytelling could come from. We are only about 1% of Americans as of 2013.


What is the impact of that on the art we produce? American publishing, like most American industries, are rooted in the American race binary, white versus black. Until the relatively recent rise of blog culture when talented mostly Millennial writers started writing personal essays arguing otherwise and identifying themselves as “people of color,” the assumption by mainstream culture has been that Indian Americans, so many of whom immigrated by choice when already privileged and affluent, should identify with white people rather than black people. The removal of all cultural markers from their celebrity identities, the absolute identification with whiteness, is arguably one reason that Kal Penn and Mindy Kaling—not to mention politicians Bobby Jindal and Nikki Haley—have been so successful in public positions in America. A number of younger Indian Americans have adopted black culture and the black struggle in America as their own, seeing its parallels to colonialism and Indian slavery. But brownness, the embrace of that as an identity in America distinct from black and white is relatively new. Many Indian Americans I have observed seem to believe they have a “brown” side and a “white side.” Most Indian Americans have learned to code switch, speaking one way at home and another out in the world. They have learned to split their consciousness because, according to American media, including media and stories produced by Indian Americans, in our American black-white binary, the brown side simply doesn’t exist. Some, like me, have adopted their

“white side” for so long for purposes of jobs as 80-hour-a-week white-collar professionals—lawyers and doctors especially—it is a bit startling to rediscover that we have a brown side at all once we leave that world. Most of the rediscovery of a brown side for me has related to having a child, and frankly, if I hadn’t had a biracial child, I might never have become so explicitly absorbed with studying Indian or Indian American culture or race. Not for Bobby Jindal’s stated reasons, but because I would have simply taken my Indian-ness for granted as I always had up to getting married and changing my name. Then again, perhaps identifying as brown would mean being an outsider to the binary, and an outsider status probably doesn’t feel quite true for a number of second generation Indian Americans. They never experienced for themselves how startling, how pioneering it actually was to come to America in the sixties and seventies.

The Division of Brown

Most of America seems to assume that there is no brown, or that anyone who talks about brownness is simply looking for ways to further divide people instead of celebrate their common humanity. But not talking about brownness in America, or denigrating discussion of brownness in America as “whiny,” is an artistic erasure, and a damaging one. I’m not sure why being brown in America with its own experiences apart from whiteness or blackness, isn’t worthy of literary exploration. Why is it so rarely part of a character’s characterization within a literary American

Rajesh Parameswaran

Nina McConigley

novel? The first Indian American novel, to my knowledge, that seems to adopt this approach is A.X. Ahmad’s The Caretaker, which was only published in 2013. Perhaps the very diversity of India is what makes the publishing of diverse Indian perspectives in America so difficult. It is assumed that a writer’s own ethnic group will constitute some part of his or her readership in America—that readers want to see themselves. But that means that substantially less than 1% of Americans are even available to “relate” to a particular Indian American work solely because of ethnic identification. The metric for whether our fiction should be published must not be whether there are enough people to “see” themselves in our work. Rather, the standard should be whether it enables us to see each other, and whether it does so in an artistic and inventive way. The same problem of multiculturalism arises when India is discussed in the media. The rhetorical device of synecdoche in which a part is made to represent the whole is very common when considering India from our vantage as Americans. Delhi culture routinely stands in for Indian culture. Bengali or Punjabi upper caste traditions routinely stand in for “Indian” traditions. While multiculturalism did a lot of good in the ‘80s and ‘90s, nowadays in a multicultural paradigm, there is an assumption that one writer from each culture can actually speak for the entirety of that culture—providing a kind of quick reading-by-countries checklist. Consequently, you get reviews of Mira Jacob’s book comparing her to Jhumpa Lahiri

Jhumpa Lahiri

August 2015 | Southern California | www.indiacurrents.com | 11


when there is actually very little that is common between the authors except that they both write about Indian American families. Where Mira Jacob uses a lot of sharp, black humor, Lahiri openly admits she eschews humor. Lahiri has come to represent the gold standard of Indian American writing— publishers brand every Indian American author that has followed her with her name to get white Americans excited about reading the work. It’s disheartening that in the nearly two decades since Lahiri’s book was published—the 43 years since Bengali American writer Bharati Mukherjee published The Tiger’s Daughter—every Indian American book must be compared to Lahiri’s novels, in order for the book to be considered worth reading. The Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Adichie gave an incredible TEDGlobal talk in 2009 about the danger of a single story. In her talk, she explained that if we hear only a single story about another person or country, we risk critically misunderstanding that person or culture. She described how her college roommate had been surprised at how well she spoke English, despite the fact that English is an official language of Nigeria. But after years in the United States as an African, Adichie came to understand why the roommate reacted to her as she did. If Bharti Mukherjee

all Adichie knew about Africa was what the media told her—that Africa was full of wild animals and incomprehensible people all needing to be saved by a kind white person—that’s what she would understand Africa to be. It’s not that stereotypes—or a single story—are not true, noted Adichie, it’s that they are not the whole truth. Just a bit of knowledge can produce the dangerous illusion of knowing. A Goodreads review of Jhumpa Lahiri’s novels noted, for example, that she wished Lahiri would move on to other subjects, meaning something other than Indian American experience, as if it this experience is so minor it could be adequately covered in four books. On November 21, 2014, YA author Rakesh Satyal tweeted: This is a good time to tell you that when my first book was on submission, an editor at a big house passed saying “The Indian thing is over.” What a small and desiccated vision of the world and America and stories! And yet this idea that a vast constellation of cultures can be quickly summed up seems to be a dominant impression. There are so many interesting postmodern ideas to explore and revolutionary ways of telling our stories. There is so much that has to do with the newness of our experience in a youthful country whose radical existence is predicated on the idea of melting together, melting out of our identities all for abstract principles like freedom and capitalism. Is that annihilation? A bloody history in which only those that fit a particular phenotype are allowed a full range of emotions and stories? Or is it actually rebirth? A place where Indian-Americans are able to refashion themselves away from the caste system, and—for some of us—oppressive ideals of femininity. Is it both? Is it something else? The primary reason to remain committed to the long, painful, and arduous process of writing a book, in my opinion, is to create something that does not yet exist—there are so many untold stories of our lives here and now, and so many ways left to tell them. n Anita Felicelli is a writer and attorney who lives in the Bay Area. She is the author of the novel Sparks Off You and other books.

12 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California |August 2015

India Currents is now available on the Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/IndiaCurrents/dp/B005LRAXNG Follow us at twitter.com/indiacurrents on facebook.com/IndiaCurrents Most Popular Articles Online July 2015 1) Why a Software Engineer Became a Writer Jaya Padmanabhan 2)You Lose it in a Generation Ragini Tharoor Srinivasan 3) House of Teak Kalpana Mohan 4) Re-creating Home Sarita Sarvate 5) Drought Changes Water Rights History in California Ritu Marwah 6) Crass Warfare Aniruddh Chawda 7) Does a Corset a Woman Make? Sarita Sarvate 8) Thumbs Up, Ekalavya Geetika Pathania Jain 9) Skyrocket Your Energy Level Puja Mukherjee 10) Unsaid - Fiction Iqbal Pittalwala

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not for profit

One Million Smiles Served By Gayatri Subramaniam

A

man says to a young boy, “What do you see in the mirror?” The boy’s eyes fill with tears and he says he does not look at himself. Ever. Another child listens unprotestingly as her mother states, “She doesn’t go to school anymore because it scares the other children.” Yet another hears his parent say, “I wish he had never been born,” never to comprehend that the parent says this out of love and worry about what will be a lifelong struggle for normalcy. I hit the Pause button on the awardwinning documentary Smile Pinki and think about my conversation with Satish Kalra, Chief Programs Officer of Smile Train, a non-profit organization with a sustainable approach to cleft lip and palate repair. I am beginning to understand why Kalra has traded a successful corporate life to dedicate his efforts toward bringing smiles to these children.

Understanding Cleft Lip and Palate

Every year, 1 out of 700 children in the developing world is born with a cleft lip or palate, a condition in which the roof of the mouth and/or top lip does not close prop-

Satish Kalra with a young patient

14 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California |August 2015

me that the biggest tragedy is that “it is so curable!” It can take as little as $250 and 45 minutes to buy a child a smile, and, with it, a shot at a normal life.

The Business Model

A life transformed

erly. Treating a cleft can be routine, but for many families, it is unaffordable, and even to the medical community, a low priority compared to accident and trauma victims who need plastic surgery immediately. Untreated clefts have significant health consequences, ranging from difficulty with breathing and eating, to death, in extreme cases. The psychological damage, however, is immeasurable. Speech is often affected, making it difficult for these children to be academically successful. Their physical appearance is a deterrent to making friends and developing a healthy self-image, and it leads to increasing isolation and shame. Kalra’s eyes light up and his passion becomes contagious as he impresses upon

Smile Train partners with more than a thousand community-based hospitals that provide surgical interventions in over 85 countries. The doctors who provide the expertise are given unimpeded freedom to make medical choices, and the management team focuses solely on raising and distributing funds, and other operational decisions.The program’s continued success in providing scalable, longterm solutions comes from building local infrastructure. This means investing in safer, newer technology, and training local doctors. For instance, Smile Train developed the ground-breaking Virtual Surgery Simulator, a free, web-accessible resource that requires no specialized hardware or software. The Simulator provides instruction on complex surgical procedures from some of the world’s elite surgeons, using interactive animated graphics and actual surgical video footage. For patients, Smile Train goes beyond providing cost-free surgery. Children who appear too malnourished to

Divya now learns bharatanatyam


Parents attending surgery camp

withstand surgery are given food in the weeks prior. Small stipends are provided to families who do not have the means to travel to and from the hospital or lack basics such as food and shoes. In addition, post-surgical necessities, including dental care, orthodontics and speech therapy is made available where possible.

Success Stories

features a Rwandan genocide survivor, who, after living with cleft since birth, got a new lease on life when he and his daughter, born with the same affliction, underwent reparative surgeries. Then there’s Divya, who, after being abandoned by her father, went from social withdrawal to being a Bharatanatyam dancer. The stories span the globe, but the smile on each patient’s face tells the story of a life transformed.

Making a Difference

Smile Train assiduously seeks families in remote areas who need help. The staff educates and invites families to come to surgery camps in the larger cities, and encourages them to spread the word to other families in similar circumstances. The staff take time to answer parent questions, be playful with the children, and act like mentors, encouraging them to return to school

and lead normal lives.

How Can You Help?

SSmile Train continues to look for community support to further its efforts. You can donate directly to the organization via their website. You can also spread the word through social media channels, or create a community event using Smile Train’s fundraising kits. Smile Train also encourages schools, hospitals, faith-based institutions and corporations to partner with them. For more information on how to volunteer or donate to this transformative organization, go to smiletrain.org., or contact Justin McCarthy, Director, Major Gifts, at jmccarthy@smiletrain.org. n Gayatri Subramaniam is a San Jose-based instructional designer and writer. She is an ardent tennis fan who believes that if she had only been taller, stronger, faster, and blessed with more talent, she would’ve been a Grand Slam champion.

One story on the Smile Train website

August 2015 | Southern California | www.indiacurrents.com | 15


16 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California |August 2015


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opinion

India, Poverty and The Economist Digging at the roots of India’s malnutrition problem By Atanu Dey

T

o most unbiased observers, particularly those who have an interest in India’s progress, most report cards on the Indian economy make for distressing reading. India has failed to prosper even though it has been free of colonial rule for nearly 70 years. A recent featured piece in The Economist of July 4, 2015— “Of Secrecy and Stunting”—is no exception. It reports on widespread malnutrition in India with particular emphasis on childhood malnutrition. While the trend is positive, the situation is still dire: African countries’ rate of underweight children is only 21%, compared to India’s 30%. “A new study—conducted by the government and the UN agency for children, UNICEF—offers evidence of a steady and widespread fall in malnutrition. But the picture is still grim. Judged by measures such as the prevalence of “stunting” (when children are unusually short for their age) and “wasting” (when they weigh too little for their height), India is still vastly hungrier than Africa.” The study referred to is the Rapid Survey on Children (RSOC) conducted in 2013-14. The Economist states that the study found a steady and secular fall in malnutrition across the states. The countrywide proportion of underweight children under five fell from 42.5% to below 30% in a decade. But some more prosperous states did relatively poorly compared to less prosperous states. For example, child hunger in Madhya Pradesh fell from 60% to 36%, and in Bihar from 56% to 37%, both relatively poor states. But a more prosperous Gujarat does worse than the national average: child hunger went from 44.6% to 33.5%. Gujarat comes under special scrutiny in The Economist. That’s not surprising considering that it has a long-standing animosity against Narendra Modi, its erstwhile Chief Minister for a decade. Ahead

18 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California | August 2015

A Creative Commons Image by Mani Babbar Photography

The remarkable successes of the Indian diaspora suggest that perhaps India is poor because of government action/inaction. It’s the rules and regulations that Indians in India labor under that is the primary cause of India’s lack of progress. of the 2014 general elections, The Economist declared (on April 5, 2014) that it was against India’s having Modi as its Prime Minister. Its overt animus towards Modi is long-standing and consistent. Following Modi’s resounding victory in the elections, it took the unprecedented step of justifying its stance in a convoluted piece on June

1, 2014 arguing that it was non-partisan and motivated by purely moral considerations. Reading it one suspects that the magazine doth protest too much. Quite predictably, The Economist in this recent piece trots out Amartya Sen as its prime witness to the sins of Gujarat and Modi. They see eye to eye on what they perceive to be Modi’s grievous sins. Wherever and whenever it is even remotely possible, mention must be made of how terrible the BJP and Modi are. In essence this is grievance mongering taken to a high art. The Economist notes that the RSOC report was finished by October 2014. It conjectures that the Modi government has not released it because it shows up Gujarat in a poor light. That is, the Modi government is self-serving. Perhaps I am naive and uninformed, but I have not found any institution not to be self-serving—and that goes double for The Economist when it comes to reporting about India. It does


outdo itself in gutter-inspector reporting: see its article of July 2014 on India’s sanitation and open defecation problem. Notwithstanding The Economist’s clearly biased and probably maliciously motivated reporting, the matters of Indian child malnutrition and abysmal sanitation are horrifying and shameful. The causes of these—and other social ills—are for certain partly cultural but to a much larger extent it is economic. Indians are not like, say, the Japanese who are obsessively clean and fastidious. There are regional variations in the standards of cleanliness but overall the filth that Indians tolerate is hard to believe. There’s no denying that Indians are a dirty people. But it does not have to be this way. Malnutrition, like child labor, is mostly an economic issue. It is not that poor parents care less for their children than rich parents. Choices are severely limited under poverty. These social problems are not endemic to India. They arise universally under conditions of material deprivation and poverty. There’s no denying that India is a desperately poor country. But it does not have to be this way. The deeper issue that needs addressing

is why is India unable to find its way out of persistent poverty. Granted that India’s population is unsustainably high given its natural resource endowment and the level of technology but the Indian economy performs far below its potential. The factors that could have explained India’s poverty—massive external aggression, routine internal strife, devastating periodic natural disasters, widespread incapacity of the people to produce—are missing. The one factor that cannot be ruled out is systematic mismanagement of resources and large scale government malfeasance. At the broadest level of analysis, poverty is a symptom or consequence of an imbalance between the amount of production and the number of people. Why doesn’t India produce enough for its needs? Could it be because Indians face barriers when they attempt to be productive? If so, what or who creates the barriers? Could it be the government? The remarkable successes of the Indian diaspora suggest that perhaps India is poor because of government action/inaction. It’s the rules and regulations that Indians in

India labor under that is the primary cause of India’s lack of progress. These “licence, control, permit, quota” rules and regulations originate in the British colonial era, which were made for the benefit of the British government and for the purposes of ruling a colonized people. Those did not change after 1947. Indians are nominally free, but in reality still oppressed by the government and its vast bureaucracy. Until Indians become truly free of oppressive governance, India is doomed to be poor. But Indians are collectively responsible for the government India has. It is, after all, a democracy and therefore entirely responsible for its own fate. India’s suffering is entirely self-inflicted and thus avoidable through an act of will. In the meanwhile, we should be reconciled to the tragedy of stunted and wasted children. India is a stunted and wasted country under the weight of an oppressive government. n Atanu Dey, Ph.D., is an economist. His blog “Atanu Dey on India’s Development” is at deeshaa.org. Connect on twitter @atanudey.

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ask a lawyer

What Do I Do When My Email Gets Hacked by Someone I Know? By Madan Ahluwalia

Q

What legal recourse do I have if someone is hacking into my computer email accounts and/or my social media accounts?

A

Hacking, or the unauthorized access to digital information, can be a serious breach of your privacy. Most often when you hear this term it refers to a big bank or credit card company being “hacked” into and massive amounts of data being stolen. However, it can also mean someone accessing your private emails or social media accounts without your permission or even your knowledge, and using the information to harass you or impersonate you online. Hacking crimes carry penalties ranging from up to six months in prison for a

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misdemeanor, to 20 years in prison for a felony crime. The law also punishes unauthorized access to a computer or computer network with penalties and fines. Whether it is someone you are distantly aquainted with or someone you know very well, like a relative, there is legal action you may take to ensure your privacy. This type of behavior can be classified as disturbing your peace and can be viewed as harassment against you by the other party. Restraining orders are available to help stop the continued harassment and usage of your information. These can be filed with or without an attorney’s help, however it does require you to know the other party’s identity. Depending on the relationship with

the party you may file a civil restraining order or a domestic violence restraining order. In order to be granted an order you will have to prove not only the hacking, but a direct link to the person committing the offense. This can be done using forensic analysis and legal tools, such as Requests to Inspect, used to gain access to tangible evidence in the other party’s possession. If they illegally access your personal data to impersonate you online, to your detriment, this is a crime punishable by fines or jail time. n Madan Ahluwalia has been an attorney since 1995. His office is located in San Jose, CA. He can be reached at (408) 416-3149


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August 2015

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fiction

Miss, Dolly and Hulk atha iction ontest

I

econd ri e

By Jyothi Vinod

they’re reading, and American politics … enter the open gates of the dimly lit anything but this dreary topic. Sometimes park. The pre-dawn darkness conthey switch to how much they miss my spires with giant trees that stand, cooking. Only cooking? I change the topic branches interlocked, like soccer players then. plotting strategy before a match. The I don’t elicit any useful information leaves whisper secrets. When the sunlight cascades through the leaves, the park expands, as if breaking free from an oath of secrecy, revealing trees, grass, flowers, birds and bumbling humans. I see the regulars, faces I almost smile at when I see them outside the park, forgetting briefly that the familiarity has never translated to friendship. I finish my three laps and sit on a stone bench. They are back toA Creative Commons Image by Prashant gether again—Miss, Dolly and Hulk! I feel the stirrings of an old anger and I see the regulars, faces I almost helplessness. I want to stop them before it is too late. smile at when I see them outside I have to walk for my health, the par forgetting brie that not to regain it, but to safeguard what’s left of it. “On your toes, the familiarity has never transfrom dawn to dusk,” said the lated to friendship. chirpy lady doctor (she sounded more like a ballet instructor) during the annual health checkup my elder son, Sid compelled from their wives either, who quickly plant me to undergo. I walk as much as is huthe children before the computer screen. manly possible, so that I don’t have to lie My sons have a daughter each—Maya and to my sons; with meet-ups on Skype every Riya, aged five and three years respectively. other night, my face is a dead giveaway I long to hold these prattling dolls in my for achy joints. Harry takes up where Sid arms. Getting used to their accent and leaves off. Both of them believe I enjoy it the thought of how much they will have when they admonish me like I were their grown in the two years before I see them naughty child. I understand they love me, makes bonding difficult. and all that, but I don’t like to converse Siddharth’s wife is Jay, previously only about my health, that too when I am known as Jayanthi on the wedding invite, talking to a computer screen that brings and Harish’s wife is Lucky, short for Lakthem momentarily across the seas into my shmi. And I still can’t say off-hand—Sid living room. I want to know about their and Jay or Harry and Lucky, because I work, their week-end getaways, the books have remained Mrs. Pramila Krishna Rao

22 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California | August 2015

for the last forty years. I was married at nineteen to the thirtyone year old grandson of my grandmother’s cousin. Krishna, tall, good-looking and clever was a junior scientist at the National Institute of Computational Science in Bangalore. His parents, as long as they were alive, never let me once forget the marvelous exploits of their prodigiously talented darling. When our sons began school, Krishna rejoiced in their cleverness, saying often, in what he considered jest, that thankfully they took after their father. I completed my arts degree and first pregnancy when I was twenty. Sid, the result of the pregnancy, was cause for celebration, while my second class B.A. was according to Krishna, “not unexpected.” Krishna was always a busy man: researching, publishing papers, traveling, attending conferences in India and abroad, and steadily climbing the rungs of success. A massive heart attack, days before his fifty-eighth birthday brought it all to an unexpected halt. Not many know the real cause. It had started when Mr. Rai was promoted as head of a prestigious project the year before. “That inexperienced fool is years younger than me. How can they overlook me like this? Just wait and see what I’m going to do,” he had told me in a rare display of candor. He applied for sick leave and then while at home, he brooded, grew a beard, and took up gardening. He denounced my cooking and housekeeping as unhealthy and old-fashioned. The boys were spared his caustic tongue; they were in America chasing higher degrees and doctorates. He had always been like this—a little hedgehog, prickly and irritable. He called me a fool quite frequently, and staunchly believed it. My lips remained sealed, al-


though I seethed within. I may have hinged my future on the frail hope of his discovering, someday, the person I really was. Maybe if he had lived to the ripe old age of ninety, he might have had that opportunity. That morning while I was getting his coffee ready, I heard a thud from the bathroom. He lay on the cold floor, with the tube of toothpaste and brush in his hand, froth on his face, eyes lifelessly open—the distinguished scientist, the father of my sons and now, my late husband. I did not understand then how being alone could be any different from the years when I had no access to his affection or friendship, but strangely it was. There are bereft relatives on his side who are surprised to see me now, living my life with a smile. That I can still exist in the absence of such a towering personality is a mystery to them. They don’t understand, on the contrary, that is the reason I continue to exist—a free and complete entity. I think I have done right by my boys. I began reading all the books their father borrowed for them, right from the time they had begun reading—Noddy, Tintin, Asterix, Enid Blyton and many others. When I sat them down with their homework, I read their schoolbooks. I swung into a new role when Sid entered high school. I organized notes in files and located books to answer his questions. His father’s explanations were fit only for postdoctoral students, we found to our dismay and secret amusement. It was easier when Harry was in high school. I had all the answers. With a cheerful mother who delivered wholesome meals and doubled up as their secretary, they were lucky boys. After the hallowed precincts of the IITs embraced them, I quit reading their books. I began to read what I enjoyed. But of course, the credit for their admission into the IITs and then into Stanford and Princeton was claimed by their proud father. Can sons of a renowned scientist be anything but brilliant scholars? I don’t know. For many years now, my walks in this park have been the high point of my day. Vivekananda Garden is a huge park, one of the many in South Bangalore with magnificent trees as old as fifty years. The walking paths start to fill by 5.30 a.m., and many walkers remain at the park till about

10 a.m. People throng the park again in the evenings. The watchman has to blow his whistle many times when the streetlights come on to drive the people out. I walk, mostly alone, in the mornings and evenings. You A Creative Commons Image by Neo-grapher glimpse your life here sometimes, especially when I may have hinged my future you are lonely and observant. Interesting snatches of conon the frail hope of his disversation drift by and I squirrel covering someday, the person them away in my mind. A complete story emerges if I listen I really was. to the person again or imagine the rest. I pride myself to be a little like Agatha Christie’s Ms. pink with exertion and had short jet black Marple; no gruesome murders though. hair pulled into an untidy pony tail. Her For example when X says, “I returned black eyes were always darting, appraising yesterday,” in answer to his walking com- other walkers. panion’s query, I know he’s back from A few days later she was walking with Goa, after attending the wedding of his an attractive companion, about her own wife’s cousin. The wedding he had wanted age, who spoke Hindi as if she had learned to avoid because he had divorced his wife it at school and was eager to practice. She two years back. was a few inches taller with a wholesome When Y says, “Yes, they are both in figure. Her good set of white teeth flashed good health,” she means her mother and often in ready smiles. She wore smart mother-in-law who stay with her and ap- kurtas over track pants. I’ll name these parently get on like a house on fire. Then women before I continue. “Dolly” there are the knowledgeable young professionals, who carry on their office discussions in these leafy boardrooms. Some old couples are most amusing. FIRST PLACE: The retired husband explaining (after all LWALA Unsaid by IQBAL PITA these years?) about his past work; the a Cherry Valley, Californi bored wife is throwing longing glances at her friends who are walking ahead. Maybe, SECOND PLACE: my husband too would have explained to JYOTHI Miss, Dolly and Hulk by me the statistical-analysis-of-God-knowsia VINOD, Bangalore, Ind what in layman terms, if he had survived the heart attack. THIRD PLACE: A couple of months ago, my attention NGULY, San 10-4 by SANJOY GA was drawn to a woman, possibly in her Jose, California early thirties, who walked alone in tight designer clothes accentuating her curves. ION: HONORABLE MENT She may have disliked using ear-phones, LA BUCH, Brink by TANVI CHAW because her favorite Hindi film songs Los Altos, California played loudly on the pink mobile phone she held, as she walked the lap anti-clockION: HONORABLE MENT wise. We passed each other frequently; my NTHOSH Courage by VIVEK SA slow three laps and her furiously paced a San Francisco, Californi ones. She was fair, with cheeks that turned

Katha 2015 Results

August 2015 | Southern California | www.indiacurrents.com | 23


at home after the hen the last a e settles the sun and daily wash have softened the idyllic scene misleads you into original colors to thinking that turmoil never hapconfusing pastels and the fabric to pened, or changed nothing if it pulpy softness. had. The kind of material that will go sumed their walks, starting earlier, when on to wipe cars, even little birds were blinking, stretching bikes and dusty furniture. She their wings, waiting for dawn. Clearly must have set out right after a Mrs. Hulk couldn’t slip out of her kitchen cooking spell in the kitchen. every day. But why had she accompanied The kurta was wet on either him that one day? Because some neighbor side with a slightly squeezed had commented slyly as many are wont to? look—her handy kitchen towA Creative Commons Image by Randy Robertson “Your husband is very particular about el. She had pleasant features his walks, isn’t he? A fitness freak. We see marred by a worried expression him every single day, walking briskly— and was of medium build with aptly describes the first woman and her with two pretty women.” thin waist-length hennaed hair untidily new friend I’ll call “Miss,” because I heard The walks continued; two reds flanked braided. She watched the walkers intently Dolly remark once, pointing to a group of a white; two greens flanked a pink—the while she fiddled with a scooter key in her men, “Look, a teacher from your school.” pace and pattern firmly set. Hulk and Miss right hand. When I asked her if she had A few days later the teacher joined exchanged smiles and banter around Dolly finished walking, she told me her mornthem. I had to call him Hulk after Sid who made their togetherness in public apings were crazy. It was one of those easy and Harry’s favorite superhero character. pear harmless and legitimate. confidences one bestows on a friendly (Hulk striking brave poses, muscles flexed, Mrs. Hulk, if we meet again, I’ll tell stranger, on a journey perhaps, someone stares at me from stickers—the glue still you this for a fact: while we stay at home you don’t expect to meet or know outside holding strong—on cupboards that once and raise fine boys, tending to their studies of the conversation ever again. held the dreams and treasures of my little and health, caring for dependent relatives, “Where is the time for such luxuries, boys.) knowing nothing about the work and aunty? I am awake by 4 a.m., I then cook It was easy to assume that Hulk was a workplace we send our well-fed, welland serve till 9 a.m., I supervise the maid sports instructor. He was tall, broad and dressed husbands to, we are preparing who sweeps and mops the floor, and I run well-built in his mid-thirties with a taste ourselves for certain heart break if these the clothes in the machine before washing for tight fitting clothes. He walked like he husbands are the sort that relish this gift of the utensils. With aged in-laws at home owned the park. He had a gruff voice and freedom. Mine did; the prestigious instiand two naughty boys, I’m exhausted by spoke in Hindi to Dolly and in Kannada tute, his employer—the necessary “Dolly.” mid-afternoon, and crash out on the bed to Miss. I vaguely remember seeing him His fortnightly visits to Bombay on for two hours. After tea-time with snacks, in the company of other men, walking and research activities at the Institute of Adit’s dinner-time. My husband is a foodie talking animatedly before his defection to vanced Computing were eagerly anticipatand enjoys variety. Oh! It’s so late,” she the new group. The trio walked briskly, ed by him. These research visits had begun said eyeing my wristwatch. Her eyes recounter clockwise, talking non-stop. Miss after Harry was born and continued till sumed their anxious search as she hurried once spoke of a vegetable curry her hushis sick leave before the heart attack. His away. band liked and how she preferred working work and thoughts occupied a different It was a surprise one morning to see alone in the kitchen. Hulk replied that he world, a world that barely overlapped with Hulk walking ahead of me, bent solicitoo loved to cook and didn’t mind people the one I inhabited. He contrived to keep tously to a woman. He was talking in Kanaround him. He glanced over Dolly’s head. them apart. There were few social gathernada and listening with so much formality His smile caressed Miss’s smiling face like ings in the department he felt obliged to my curiosity was piqued. Their pace was it did after every sentence he uttered. take me—his spouse. But a couple of years slow and I heard words like “cucumbers,” Maybe it was my imagination working before he died we attended a farewell party “fees” and “telephone bills.” I guessed overtime, but too often to be coincidence, in a five-star hotel. correctly—Mrs. Hulk. Then I saw her Hulk and Miss wore clothes of the same Someone there said, “Ma’am what a face and was taken aback. Clad in a neat color. Miss wore a darker shade of red on pleasure! At last, a glimpse of the woman grey salwar suit today she was the busy her lips. Of course, on some days when behind the successful Dr. Krishna Rao. lady who had poured her troubles out to Hulk wasn’t walking with them, Miss’s He’s usually alone at parties telling us me earlier. Miss and Dolly passed by that luminous eyes scanned the walkers, her you’re shy and uninterested in such gathervery instant from the opposite direction laughter and talk a tad forced. ings.” My husband had discreetly walked marching straight ahead, their pretty faces A young woman sat beside me on away with some colleagues. betraying no recognition. the bench one day. She wore the kind of Tipsy Dr. Mani had asked, “Mrs. KrishDays later, Miss, Dolly and Hulk recotton salwar suit women start to wear 24 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California | August 2015


na Rao, when will you build a house in Goa? Your husband just can’t get enough of the sea and sand there.” Someone elbowed him away, apologizing profusely. That affable enquiry shook my world. My husband responded characteristically with, “Don’t be a fool. What did he mean? How should I know? Mani is a drunkard, and that’s a fact.” A fool when you question. And also when you don’t. I have a snow globe on the mantelpiece with a happy looking bride and groom glued in the center. You give it a shake and watch the snowflakes swirling around them. When the last flake settles, the idyllic scene misleads you into thinking that turmoil never happened, or changed nothing if it had. But certainly, so much had altered; not all the swirling flakes found their way back to their old positions. That was how my life was after that day. Hope took a back seat and I began to wear an armor of indifference to disguise my rearranged emotions. Mrs. Hulk stalked her husband again. One day I heard them arguing. She punctuated the conversation liberally with words like “fed-up” and “neglect.” He

pledged his honesty on some God and swore over the heads of his sons. His angry wife ordered him to stop unnecessarily inviting the wrath of god on innocent children. A year after I was widowed, at the wedding reception of Dr. Mani’s daughter, I met Dr. Sylvia D’Cunha. Sylvia was tall and graceful, maybe a few years younger than I was. Her attractive face looked unhappy when she introduced herself. She worked in the Research and Development Department of the Institute of Advanced Computing in Bombay. Her husband was a commercial pilot with an international airline and they were childless by choice. She told me she had fond memories of “brilliant Krishna Sir,” who had been a great guide and support in the field of computational mathematics that she was working on. Something in the way she said those words raised goosebumps on my arms. I sensed his presence near her. Her damp eyes raked my face before she closed them sighing. And she was from Goa. To remain sane, I had to pull up the drawbridge of dying hopes so that he remained in her world—where he had truly

belonged. I see the trio walk by breezily. Miss, Dolly and Hulk have completed one lap while I re-lived a lifetime. Snow globes are meant to be shaken. Lost flakes are no longer my concern. I take a deep breath and look away.

n An Electronics engineer by profession, Jyothi Vinod took a break in 2013, after teaching undergraduates for ten years, to pursue her first love of reading and writing. Her articles have been published in Deccan Herald. Her short stories have been published in Good Housekeeping India, Reading Hour, Femina and Spark. Judges: Vikram Chandra’s works include Red Earth and Pouring Rain (a novel), Love and Longing in Bombay (collection of short stories), Sacred Game (a novel) and Geek Sublime: The Beauty of Code, The Code of Beauty (nonfiction.) Sonia Faleiro is the award winning author of Beautiful Thing: Inside the Secret World of Bombay’s Dance Bars.

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tax talk

Summer Tax Tips By Rita Bhayani

Yard Sale Season

Summer is a great time for cleaning out the house and setting up a garage sale. But have you ever wondered if you need to pay taxes on the income you earn from selling your used stuff? Typically, since the items sell for far less than what you paid for them, the transaction is tax-free. As long as this is a once or twice a year event—and not a set-up at a farmer’s market or flea market on a regular basis—then you don’t need to worry about profits and losses, sales tax or self-employment tax.

Rent Out Your Home Tax-free

Do you live near a lake or a popular festival that draws the attention of outof-towners? Many local residents like to head out of town when a local festival or event draws in the tourists. If you’re one of them, you might be able to rent your house for a few days and earn some taxfree income.

Taxpayers who own their personal residence and rent it for less than 15 days during the year receive tax-free rental income. To qualify for this tax-free treatment, you must rent out your home for 14 days or less and personally use the home for 15 days or more. You are not allowed to deduct any rental-related expenses; however, you are allowed to deduct your mortgage interest and personal property taxes as usual on Schedule A for the entire year.

Hire Your Children for the Summer

Hiring your children to work for you during the summer can result in payroll tax benefits for your company. If your children are under the age of 18, you are not required to withhold social security and Medicare taxes from their wages. You are also not required to pay federal unemployment taxes on their wages until they

reach 21. Only self-employed business owners can take advantage of this benefit. Partnerships are included in this category as long as the parents are the only partners. If your business is incorporated, your children are considered employees of the corporation, and are subject to the normal payroll taxes regardless of their age. n Reprinted with permission from the National Association of Tax Professionals. Rita Bhayani is a Certified Public Accountant and a Certified Management Accountant practicing at Pleasanton, CA and she protects the clients from the IRS. She provides tax planning, accounting, payroll and outsourced CFO services too. For more information log on to www.ritacpa.net. Reprinted with permission from the National Association of Tax Professionals.

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films

The Elephants Charge By Aniruddh Chawda

BAAHUBALI: THE BEGINNING. Director: S.S. Rajamouli. Players: Prabhas, Rana Daggubati, Tamannaah, Ramya Krishan, Rohini, Nassar, Sathyaraj. Music: M. M. Keervani. Telugu with Eng. Sub-tit. Theatrical release (Arka Mediaworks)

T

he tides of the box-office sometimes deliver bombshells from unexpected places. For filmmaker Rajamouli, whose Magadheera (2009) and Eega (2012) were two all-time blockbusters of Telugu and Tamil cinemas, the latest release Baahubali: The Beginning adds another box-office juggernaut to his name. Action-packed to the rafters, epic on more than one level and plain out and out simply an amazing movie experience, Baahubali: The Beginning re-writes the text on mega-budget, circus tent-sized movies. Wow them with jaw-dropping techie wizardry, toss in an engrossing story, avoid gimmicky trappings of 3-D at all costs, up the admission to a wallet-thinning $20 (seriously!) and leave them wanting—no, begging—for more. The mythical kingdom of Mahishmati is in a state of agitation. An infant named Baahubali is rescued from near-certain drowning and adopted by Sanga (Rohini) and her forest-dwelling camp followers. The orphan grows up as Shivudu (Prabhas)—fearless, brawny and intent on conquering the tall mountains near the river where he was rescued. Overcoming Herculean odds, Shivudu scales the treacherous mountain and lands in Mahishmati and unknowingly intertwines his own fate with that of the empire even as a historic rivalry between warrior cousins begins to take shape. In this first of two part definite franchise, with Part 2 scheduled for 2016 release, Baahubali emerges as the epitome of the craft of Indian filmmaking on an epic scale. Steadfastly against releasing it in 3-D, another trendy move on Rajamouli’s part, there is plenty of oomph in the 2-D version. The storyboard graphics come alive, the colors explode and rush28 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California | August 2015

ing torrents of a storied mighty waterfall seem about to creep up from between stadium seats at the multiplex. The amazing touches extend to the phenomenal cinema-hall sound that—reinforcing the notion that choosing the right seat in the theater is paramount to the optimal cinematic experience—engulfs the senses with crashing waves, breaking branches and the stupefying battle sequence artifacts of clanking armor, colliding swords, flying daggers, horse stampedes and elephantmount charges. So far, only zombies have been unmoved by this as anything less than a bright-eyed-kid-in-a-candy-store spectacle. Reportly made on a stratospheric budget of $40-$50 million, Baahubali’s $23 million opening weekend smashed the record for the biggest opening weekend for an Indian movie, trumping the $17 million record previously held by Shahrukh Khan in Happy New Year (2014). With a $4.4 million opening weekend haul in the U.S., Baahubali also outdid the $3 million U.S. opening for PK. Baahubali may be well on the way to becoming the biggest Indian movie of all time. Back at Mahishmati, Shivudu, now recognized as the long-long infant Baahubali, must navigate the political trappings of his noble birth. Rajamouli’s story keeps the narrative vital by way of Baahubali getting cozy with the warrior-hottie Avantika (Tammannah). While the battle cries loom large, the story has a surprising amount of female-dominated presence. Shivudu’s adopted mother Sanga, Sivagami (Krishan), the queen regent guarding Mahishmati’s throne while a successor is picked and also Devasena (Shetty), Baahubali’s mother imprisoned by Bhallala, are all strong leaders whose command can

make their male subjects tremble. Even though the inspiration for Baahubali can clearly be carbon-dated to great action classics such as Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, James Cameron’s alltime global box office champion Avatar and especially K. Asif ’s Mughal-E-Azam, Baahubali stands tall on its own merit. It is that good. Musical composer Keeravani uses a rousing orchestra, martial-beat crescendos and war cry trumpets to devise an expansive soundtrack with hooks. Check out Ramya Behara and Deepu’s “Dheevara” and Mohana Bhograju and Revanth’s playful “Manohari.” The music sounds great especially in its original Telugu lyrics. As the feared godmother queen, Krishan’s eyes burn with restrained rage and political foresight as if she knows a calamity to befall the kingdom. While the chemistry between Prabhas’ Baahubali and Tammannah’s Avantika hits the required notes, the romance get short-shrifted as the action takes over. In dual roles as both father and son, Baahubali is shouldered significantly by Prabhas. His easy-going style, buffed and often-shirtless camerafriendly postures sometimes bring to mind the late Tamil megastar MGR. And while we’re still miffed at the $20 admission price, Baahubali deserves a standing ovation not as a Telugu-language move but an Indian movie that thrusts Indian cinema even higher onto the global stage. n

EQ: A


Desi Rig Vegas ABCD 2 (3D). Director: Remo D’Souza. Players: Varun Dhawan, Shraddha Kapoor, Prabhudeva, Lauren Gotttleib, Kay Kay Menon, Pooja Batra. Music: Sachin Jigar. Hindi with Eng. Sub-tit. Theatrical release (UTV/ Disney)

A

ce choregrapher Remo D’Souza— whose dances have been featured in more than 100 films to date (including Krrish 3 and Student of the Year) and still counting, thank you—can easily rest on his laurels and call it a day. Not so fast. It’s 2015 you see, high time for something new, something that retains the core of a successful once-tried formula and something that cranks it all up a notch. Staged in a mockumentary musical comeback style, Fernandez and company return with Anybody Can Dance 2 (ABCD 2) by riding a Mumbai precision-dance team’s rags to possible Vegas riches story in a fanciful, enjoyable and, lest we forget, 3-D strut. Re-tracing pretty much the same plotline as the D’Souza’s first ABCD (2013), Suresh (Dhawan) a struggling dancer rejected from dance completion is about to give up when he chances upon Vishnu (Prabhudeva), a dance icon Suresh worships. Enlisting help from gal pal Vinnie (Kapoor), Suresh manages to coax Vishu out of his self-imposed retirement. They join forces in bringing together a rag tag dance group that sets its eyes on conquering an international dance gig in Las Vegas. The group soon learns that getting to Sin City is the easy part. The real problems are plans that take unexpected turns, alliances that bloom in strange fashion, motives that go unchecked and those darned romances that complicate just about everything. The flash and tinsel infusion and the depth-defying 3-D touches make it clear early on that this is all courtesy the dream factory at Disney. The opening credits have neon-in-black-light body counters that Disney first used in the ground-breaking Tron (1982). From there the magic of dance takes over. D’Souza and Prabhudeva

—without a doubt the most famous dancer from India—line an eye-popping array of precision group routines that seemingly bend gravity. The use of an aircraft carrier as a prop (yes, really—the retired India navy’s huge Vikrant guest stars intermittently!) also pings on 3-D radar. The duo Sachin-Jigar’s carefree musical score fits the story hand-in-shinyglove. Shefali Alvarez’s “Tatoo,” filmed on Gottleib’s gazelle-on-the-Serengeti silky moves, will naturally find its way to the headphone during a gym workout routine. Arijit Singh’s “Chunar” is a somber, welldone ode to a maternal promise. From there, Benny Dayal’s puppy-love struck “If You Hold My Hand” and Daler Mehndi piping the high notes in “Vande Matram” round out a fresh-sounding album. The first ABCD, even with 3-D thrown in, was made fairly inexpensively and, given a thickly urban, youthful appeal, found its box office breakeven point (and then some) fairly quickly. ABCD 2, premised with the same demographic in mind and made with a reported $10 million budget, has so far made $30 million—a tidy sum that makes it one of the biggest Hindi movie box office hauls of 2015 so far. The combination of Dhawan’s continuing box office success (Badlapur, Humpty Sharma Ki Dulhania) and better marketing from the filmmakers has surely paid off. Dhawan and Kapoor have an appealing chemistry both on and off the dance floor. To add a third, um, dimension to their on-again-off-again romance, Gottlieb is a dancing lightning bolt. First noticed

on the American dancereality show So You Think You Can Dance, Gottlieb adds a come-hither Other Woman mystique while keeping it real on the dance floor. Prabhudeva’s reluctant dance-master Vishnu nicely tosses up a hidden agenda when he gets to Vegas and Menon rolls as a conniving club patron. Where we cringe, and mercifully not often, is the shoddy writing that features sophomoric catch-phrases (“We dance to express, not impress!”). ABCD 2—dare we call it a franchise— has a self-proclaimed hashtag as “India’s First 3D Dance Movie.” One may beg to differ since just about all Hindi movies, including other entries that have been released in both 2-D and 3-D versions (think Ra.One, Raaz, Mr. X and the recent Mexican-Indian animated fantasy and awesomely titled Wicked Flying Monkeys) feature dancing. That calling card, however, doesn’t necessarily diminish ABCD 2. If anything, it paves the way for (very likely) one or more sequels. The chumpsto-champs scenario has a sweet underdog appeal that finds a sweet spot here not as a great drama but as slam-bang dance flick with a take-home soundtrack. Like it! n EQ: B+ Globe trekker, aesthete, photographer, ski bum, film buff, and commentator, Aniruddh Chawda writes from Milwaukee.

LATA’S FLICK PICKS ABCD 2 hadakne Do Dil D Mr. X and Husband Second H eds Manu 2 Tanu W

August 2015 | Southern California | www.indiacurrents.com | 29


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q&a

The Dark Reality of Madhur Bhandarkar he fil

a er tal s about Calendar Girls By Suchi Sargam

T

hough calendars have been replaced by mobile phone apps today, the demand for calendar girls has shot up, says critically acclaimed director-writer-producer Madhur Bhandarkar. He says this on the basis of research he undertook for his soon to release Calendar Girls. The movie explores the dark reality of life of five such girls who otherwise appear hot and sensual in the background of exotic locales on pages of calendars. The movie, he promises, is as much a slice of life as his earlier works—Satta (2003), Corporate (2006), Page 3 (2005), Traffic Signal (2007), Fashion (2008) and Heroine (2012). What is the reality for these “calendar girls?” I am known for my works that bring out the dark reality behind glossy images. Be it Chandni Bar or Fashion or Page 3, I have shown the truth behind these [glamorous professions]. I have been researching the calendar girls industry and ... it turns out that most girls want to be featured on a calendar. They think they will become a star, or become famous after being a calendar girl. The movie traces the lives of these girls. Has the demand for calendar girls reduced with the prevailing technology for calendar apps? No! It has rather increased manifold. These calendars are not ordinary ones. These are glamorous calendars, and an increasing number of girls want to be on these calendars now. This is directly linked to the fact that clicking and sharing photos has become immensely easy and popular with youth today on Facebook, Instagram, etc. Girls are aware about these calendars now more than ever. Interestingly, you also see that every second man wants to be an actor and every second girl an actress today. The culture of

selfies and Dubsmash is fast catching on. It just shows how everyone is smitten with the world of glamour and wants to be as close to it as they can. Three of your women-oriented films—Chandni Bar, Fashion and Page 3—have bagged the prestigious National Film Awards, among other national and international recognitions. Do you think this one will get a similar response? Awards are encouraging and welcome, but my focus is to make good films. People do not want to show the dark side of anything. But I believe in doing just that. That’s how I am branded and stamped in people’s mind. And I want to continue doing that. Why did you choose to portray your characters through fresh faces (Akanksha Puri, Avani Modi, Kyra Dutt, Ruhi Singh and Satarupa Pyne) when you could have got the best talents in Bollywood? Because calendar girls are always fresh faces. In 99% of the cases, these calendars launch fresh faces. They become popular only later. I wanted to stick to this reality. Are you aware that there is a comedy movie by the same name directed by Nigel Cole? Yes, I have heard about it, but not seen it. The subject of the two films is totally different. You were recently invited to the first International Yoga Day celebration at the United Nations in New York as the guest of honor. Do

you practice yoga in daily life? I try to do it whenever I get time. We, in the film industry, should as we are quite stressed given our erratic schedules and lifestyle. It was a proud moment for me to be there beside Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, Indian External Affairs minister Sushma Swaraj and UN Secretary General Ban Ki Moon among others. It was a beautifully organized event. How long did you take to complete the movie? I completed the film’s shoot in about 40 days. What do you think about your last release Heroine’s reception by the masses and boxoffice? It did more business at the boxoffice than Fashion did—Rs 23.5 crore ($36,989,000) in its opening weekend. It was a big thing at the time. But for many, it was not up to their expectation. However, I am very proud of the film and of Kareena’s performance in it. Many in my fraternity did not appreciate that I showed the dark reality of our industry in it without any hiccup. Do you get anxious before the release of your film? There is a little anxiety as my movies garner controversy too. People have already started speculating about who has been targeted in Madhur’s next. I have gotten used to these things to a large extent now. I am one of the few directors who has got it all—critical acclaim, boxoffice hits and awards. I am a fighter. I am ready for both brickbats and bouquets. n Suchi Sargam is a freelance journalist based in Kolkata, India

August 2015 | Southern California | www.indiacurrents.com | 31


media

The Gay Kiss of Death Dressing up homophobia in Bollywood By Sandip Roy

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here is a gay kiss of death in Bollywood. That seems to be the clear suggestion of veteran film critic and journalist Subhash K Jha. Jha has come up with a gallery of actors whose careers never “recovered” from a gay role. Or so the article alleges, blithely making a cause-effect correlation without offering up an iota of substantiating proof. None of the actors are quoted to ask if they think that’s true. Or whether Rahul Bose and Sanjay Suri even think they “lost their career after playing gay.” Time Magazine did call Bose the “superstar of Indian arthouse cinema” but obviously that counts for nothing since he’s not starring in Bajrangi Bhaijaan. And Sanjay Suri’s I AM went to Cannes but apparently his career never “survived the shock” of playing an HIV-positive swimmer in My Brother Nikhil. The article says Arjun Mathur who played gay in two short films directed by Farhan Akhtar and Zoya Akhtar never made it because producers and directors “believed Arjun was actually gay and shied away from casting him” but does not quote any filmmaker to back it up. Nor does it quote a single filmmaker to suggest that any of these actors had been typecast as gay thanks to one role in one film, even a short film, and had become some sort of box-office poison. But the article informs us authoritatively that Saqib Saleem of Bombay Talkies found his career “wiped away” after smooching Randeep Hooda’s character in the film. Not only that Saqib’s sister Huma Qureshi isn’t “exactly flooded with 32 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California | August 2015

offers” thanks to that gay turn in Dedh Ishqiya. Nandita Das who started her career with Fire seems to have done fine but she does not get a mention. This is just a dose of old-fashioned gay fearmongering, as if scores of actors do not see their careers fade or hiccup all the time for all kinds of reasons. Even worse the article disguises its homophobia with some progressive handwringing. “We may brag and boast about being a progressive nation with a cool regard for alternate sexuality,” begins the article. “However the reality is otherwise.” And then it proceeds to make the very point it is pretending to decry. It is in effect a pink-letter warning to all aspiring actors out there. If you do not want to be an “Arjun Mathur” don’t even think about playing a gay role even in a short film by someone like Zoya Akhtar. It’s not that Bollywood is taking risks every day in the stories it tells. But it has made some progress when it comes to gay issues with a smattering of gay characters in films like Luck By Chance or Honeymoon Travels who are not there as the new Parsee—an affected stereotype serving as the butt of jokes. Kirron Kher said in an interview Bollywood is filled with closeted gays who are pretending to be straight. But she thinks films can grapple with

stigma. “Films help minorities. The Legend of Bhagat Singh, Bhaag Milkha Bhaag and Singh Is King have been the ‘face’ of the Sikh community in Bollywood and helped us move on from portraying Sardars are ‘funny characters.’” But this article delivers a warning to directors. If you are thinking about exploring alternate sexuality themes in your films, think again. The film will flop and no sensible actor who cares two bits about their own career will want to come within miles of it. At the same time it is also effectively branding these actors with a big G statutory warning on their forehead—Beware! Has played a GAY on screen. Casting in your film might prove dangerous to your box-office life. There are only two lessons you can derive from this. Either you have to only play faux-gay like John Abraham and Abhishek Bachchan or you have to have enough films on your resume already that it can withstand a bit of “gay shock” ala Randeep Hooda in Bombay Talkies. Who knows what the actors named in the story think about the epitaphs the article blithely delivers to their careers. But one thing is clear. There’s enough substantiated, in-your-face overt homophobia out there in society to not need an article that connects dots at will to cook up the big gay scare. Gays have been blamed for many different things—9/11, tsunami, Hurricane Katrina. Now we can apparently add some Bollywood acting careers to the list. n Sandip Roy is the Culture Editor for Firstpost.com. A version of this story appeared on Firstpost.com.


desi voices

Hibiscus By Gauri Sirur

T

he sight of a ruby red hibiscus flower takes me back to my childhood. To a certain garden in Dharwar (in Karnataka, India), where this splendid flower grew in profusion. And to the house, which this garden adorned. This beautiful, grand old house in Dharwar was our destination during our summer holidays, when my brother and I were in school. The morning after our exams ended, my mother, brother, and I would board the train to Dharwar. After a 14 hour train journey and a thrilling 20 minute tonga (horse carriage) ride, we would would find ourselves outside a small wooden gate set in the high brick wall that ran around the house. As soon as the sounds of the tonga and our voices was heard, my aunts and cousins would spill out through the front door, onto the broad verandah that encircled the main structure of the house. I was always happy to see all of them, but until I laid eyes on Ammama, I never felt as if I had come home to Dharwar. Ammama (maternal grandmother in Konkani) was not really my mother’s mother. She was my mother’s mami (maternal uncle’s wife.) My mother had lost her own mother when she was a little girl—barely four years old. After the loss of his wife, my grandfather had taken his young daughter to Dharwar, where she was placed in her maternal grandmother’s care. The household included my mother’s maternal uncle and aunt, whom we came to refer to as Ajja (grandfather) and Ammama. Ammama was tall, willowy, and fairskinned. She had patrician features, a serene expression, and light brown eyes that were truly kind. When my mother came into her household, Ammama already had three daughters of her own to care for. (She went on to have two more daughters and a son.) But she took the motherless four-year-old child under her wing and embraced her as one of her own. Many years later, when my mother married and had my brother and me, Ammama became our de facto grandmother. She treated us in the same manner that she treated her “real” grandchildren—with overwhelming tenderness and concern. I was eight years old, when my mother revealed to me that Ammama was not my biological grandmother. The revela-

tion made no difference to my regard and affection for her. If anything, it added a dimension of respect. Every morning, after breakfast, my cousin K and I would step out into the garden, armed with a brass phooldani (vase), to gather flowers for Ammama’s morning puja. Our first stop was at the parijat tree, which I loved to shake until the small, creamy flowers with their saffron centers rained down. In my fanciful way, I liked to think that the gods were showering flowers on me. We would then wind our way to the champak: the pink-shading-into-yellow as well as the heady, golden variety. Right by the golden champak was the madhumalati creeper with its coral-pink flowers, which my aunts taught us to braid into garlands—without using string—with just the long, pliable stems. Then on to the fragile, orange aboli and the perfumed chameli and mogra, which my mother and aunts wove into garlands to adorn the deities, keeping some flowers aside to bind into gajras (hair decorations) for our hair. And finally, the hibiscus: a rich ruby red flower that, when completely unfurled, was larger than my open palm. In size and shape, utterly sumptuous. Once we had gathered the hibiscus flowers, our job was done. We would take the phooldani into the puja room and place it at the base of the platform where the deities sat. Around mid-morning, Ammama would enter the puja room, freshly bathed and wrapped in a dark pink anvaale (a special silk sari). She’d seat herself before the deities, light the lamp and incense stick, and ring a silver bell to awaken the gods. She would adorn the idols and pictures with the flowers we had picked. But the flower that stood out by in my memory by virtue of sheer size and vividness was the ruby-red hibiscus. And so I came to associate the hibiscus with the puja room in that grand old house in Dharwar. And with a serenely beautiful lady with kind eyes. I knew that when and if I ever had a garden, I would plant a red hibiscus in it. Finally, four years ago I planted a hibiscus in my garden in Houston. I planted it into the ground a little late in the season, but the hibiscus still rewarded me by putting out a bloom a month before the first

frost. I was reversing out of my driveway prior to setting out on some errands, when I saw the ruby-red flower. I stopped, got out and walked over to the hibiscus. I traced the curly edge of a petal. And the years fell away. I was back in the garden in Dharwar, topping off an already overflowing phooldani with a couple of large hibiscus blooms. Now, I tripped up the stone steps, which led from the garden up to the verandah. I crossed the verandah and stepped carefully across the broad wooden threshold into the house. I felt the coolness of stone floors beneath my feet as I walked through two more rooms, before I finally found myself in that incensescented room. I heard the sounds of children—my brother and cousins—playing on the verandah drifting in through an open window. And then I heard another voice, a gentle one, urging us to hurry into the dining room, where mangoes were being sliced for a mid-morning snack. And I knew that if I looked up, I would see Ammama walk in through the doorway clad in her pink anvaale. Across the street, my neighbor called out to her young son, who had driven his bicycle off the safety of the curb and onto the road. The sound brought me back— however unwillingly—to the present. In my purse in the car, I had a list of chores to complete: groceries, Indian store, library, optician. But I couldn’t leave the hibiscus—not just yet. My fingers whispered over the little globules of burnt-orange stigma that crowned the tall, milky stalk arching out of the flower. Lower down on this stalk a miniature forest of filaments branched out, the tops dusted with a honey-colored pollen. A little to my right, I heard an impatient buzzing: a bee waiting for its turn at the bloom. Tiny green-bodied ants hurried in and out of the flower, drawn there—like the bee—by the life-giving nectar that resided in the heart of the flower. I felt my throat tighten. There was beauty here and a nurturing sweetness, all bound up in one glorious, ruby-red package. Hibiscus. Ammama. n Gauri Sirur is a writer/blogger who lives in Houston. She likes to write about travel and personal experiences.

August 2015 | Southern California | www.indiacurrents.com | 33


travel

In the Arms of the Himalayas

Exploring Nimmu in Ladakh, where the mountains soar up to touch the sky By Sharmila Pal

M

y Dear Aakash, I arrived in a place of strange beauty, which until today existed only in my dreams. High mountains surround me all around and reach up towards a spotless deep blue sky; while bottomless arid valleys with occasional patches of green run in between them. It seems as if I have descended into a medieval stone fortress where time is at a stand still. Everything is very rustic and dry, but yet there is an unsaid fierce mystical beauty that dwells within these soul-stirring mountains. The place is Nimmu, a traditional village (~200 families) in Ladakh, set amongst impressive gorges, and is the confluence point (sangam) of the legendary Indus and the Zanskar River. Ladakh, the land of high passes, marks the boundary between the peaks of western Himalaya and the vast Tibetan Plateau. Since ancient times Ladkah has been at the crossroads of civilizations between Central Asia to the west and north, Tibet in the East, and the Indian sub-continent to the south. Until recently, caravans constantly roamed the valley of Indus in Kashmir to Leh, Ladakh’s regional capital. But now, motorable roads exist to connect different parts of Ladakh to Leh. I arrived in Nimmu sometime this late afternoon with my friend Tsering Spaldon from Leh on a local shared taxi. I will be staying with her family for the next two days. Our driver, Tashi Namgyal, was a cheerful young guy in his late twenties. I learned that he works part-time as a taxi driver in the summer to gather some pocket money and help pay for his college tuition in Jammu. After crossing the bridge at Phyang, Tashi took a right turn to get on to the famous NH 1 (National Higway 1) that connects Leh with Srinagar. In the early 17th century, when Ladakh thrived under the famous king Sengge Namgyal, this

region became recognized as the best trade route between Northwest India (Punjab) and Central Asia. The travelers, traders and pilgrims who made up the majority of travelers back then, traveled on foot or horseback, taking about sixteen days to reach Srinagar, although the people riding non-stop and with changes of horse along the route, could do it in as little as five days. Merchants dealt in textiles, spices, raw silk, carpets, and dyes and transported their goods on caravans which took about two months to carry from Amritsar to the Central Asian towns of Yarkand and Knotan. On this long route, Leh was the halfway point, and developed into a bustling town, its bazaars thronged with merchants from far countries. The famous pashm (better known as cashmere) was produced in the high altitudes of eastern Ladakh and western Tibet and taken to Srinagar where skilled artisans transformed the material into shawls known the world over for their softness and warmth. Ironically, it was this lucrative trade that finally led to the doom of the Ladakhi Kingdom. It attracted the covetous gaze of Gulab Singh, the ruler of Jammu in the early 19th century, and in 1834, he sent his general Zorawar Singh to invade Ladakh. Thus followed a decade of war and turmoil, which ended with the emergence of the British as the paramount power in north India. Ladakh, together with the neighboring province of Baltistan, was incorporated into the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir (J&K). Just over a century later, this union was disturbed by the partition of India in 1947, with Baltistan becoming a part of Pakistan, while Ladakh remaining in India. All of this was before the wheel as a means of transport was introduced into Ladakh, which happened only when the Srinagar-Leh motor-road (NH 1) was

34 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California. | August 2015

Sangam: The confluence of Indus River (left side)

constructed in the early 1960s when the Chinese occupied Askai Chin and started building roads connecting Sinkiang, Tibet and the Karakoram Highway. Upon completion, the new Sringar-Leh road cut the journey time from sixteen days to two. Simultaneously, China closed the LadakhTibet border, ending the 700-year old Ladakh-Tibet relationship. It took us just about an hour to get to Nimmu, where we got dropped off at the main market area. From that point, Spaldon’s house was a good 30 minute walk. The path was steep and rocky, and Spaldon ambled down as if it was paved. The village came up toward us: poplar trees, tall and straight; white-washed mud houses


golden bright in the evening sun, set in a patchwork of a hundred different greens of ripening crops. Spaldon and I wound between drystone walls that had been built over generations to retain the fragile soil of the mountains. Entering the village itself, in keeping with the religious custom, we had to make a slight detour to pass to the left of the stupa, the ever-present symbol of

and Zanskar River (right side).

Tibetan Buddhism. Colorful Tibetan prayer flags fluttered on garden poles. We walked up a narrow path between large, flat roofed whitewashed houses, passing vegetable gardens and apricot orchards and finally saw the gates to Spaldon’s house. The house stands right on the banks of the Indus River and is flanked by green fields and giant mountain peaks that reach up vertically to touch the sky. Arriving at the house, we climbed a flight of stone steps to the first floor. We took off our shoes outside and Spaldon took me into the their chansa, (traditional

family kitchen cum living room) a room that was at least forty feet wide with a large brick cooking stove, and spacious windows that looked over the apricot orchards. Rows of gleaming brass and copper pots shone brilliantly against the dark walls. Spaldon’s amale (mother), Tsering Dolkar, was stirring a huge pot on the stove. With a nod of the head and a warm smile she welcomed us while Spaldon explained who I was. In the kitchen with Spaldon’s family members We sat on brightly colored padded Kashmiri carpets, arranged in an L-shape along the walls, with low tables, or chogtse, in front of us. Spalgenerations. don’s acho (brother), Angdu, poured each In Ladakh, the agricultural cycle beof us a cup of the renowned gur-gur tea gins sometime between February and (salty butter tea—an acquired taste!) and June, depending on the altitude. Sowing offered us sigu (almonds), phating (dried is a time of lyrical beauty and the entire apricots), and chorpe (dried yak cheese). family (men, women, and children) share Spaldon’s ache (sister), Sothe labor equally to sow the seeds. nam Angmo, was rocking a little girl Nimmu is at an altitude of 3,100m, (maybe 7-8 months old) to sleep. She padrelatively low for Ladakh, which makes the ded her back and forth, carrying the girl climate slightly moderate, and the growin a cloth on her back. Her abile (Granding season longer. The common crops are mother) was sitting in a corner, chanting wheat, barley, fruits (apricots and apples) a mantra, her hands gliding across a row and plenty of vegetables. Spaldon and I of wooden prayer beads in her lap. I felt walked carefully through the beds and beat ease with these people, at the quiet and gan picking vegetables and collecting them matter-of-fact way in which they accepted in a hand-woven conical basket. the presence of a stranger, as if I had sat in The only noise surrounding us was that kitchen many times before. the sound of the Indus River, raging As we drank gur-gur, Spaldon told me fiercely though the fields, the wind blowthat this ancestral house was built someing though the gaps in the mountains, and time in the very early twentieth century the prayer flags fluttering from the roof by a relative of Rinchen Namgyal Zildar, top, speaking to the wind. a cousin of the king of Ladakh. Gradually, I felt overwhelmed by the strong powthe house lost its glory after the annexation erful presence of nature; small and humof Ladakh into the Indian Union after the bled. There is something about the sheer country’s independence. Spaldon’s family grandeur of the snow-capped Himalayas now lack sufficient financial resources to which inspires even the most world-weary remodel the house. traveler. I closed my eyes and allowed the I finished the last sip of my gur-gur (by river and the wind to engulf me and take now I had drunk five cups … or perhaps me somewhere beyond the snow-covered six ... I had stopped counting after three) peaks—a place far away from this society, and went out to the backyard with Spalwhich at times appears so materialistic and don to pick up some vegetables for dinner. rigid to me. Being summer, the backyard is now full of Dusk announced its arrival and there fresh vegetables—carrots, potatoes, peas, was no electricity lighting our way back spinach, cabbage, and turnips. Spaldon’s to the house. Once back in the kitchen parents and siblings have tilled this land with the basket of fresh peas, spinach, and untiringly and patiently since mid-April. turnips, amale instructed Spaldon to bring Spaldon mentioned to me that her family in the LED lamps and has had this ancestral land for at least six August 2015 | Southern California. | www.indiacurrents.com | 35


Travel Information for Nimmu

Walking through vegetable fields that Spaldon’s family have owned

help chop the vegetables for thukpa (Ladakhi noodle soup). Spaldon chopped the spinach, while I cut the turnips and shelled the peas. Once the vegetables were ready, we handed them over to amale to be added to the broth. It needed to stew for a while before adding the noodles. I took the opportunity to slip out of the kitchen and made my way to the terrace. I climbed up an old wooden ladder and took a lung full of the crisp thin air. The night sky was bejeweled with a million extraordinarily brilliant stars. Here, at 12,000 feet or more, the stars appeared to have increased in their size overnight. “When it is dark enough, you can see the stars,” says an old Persian proverb. The half moon is the only light, and it was more than enough for my eyes. The gentle summer breeze pushed the clouds across the sky, covering up the moon periodically. The stars shone like giant pearls against a limitless black canvas. I began counting the stars. In less than thirty seconds I lost my count. Aakash, I wonder how many stars you would have counted. In the moonlight I could make out the prayer flags flapping in the air from the roof, the eular trees rustling in the breeze, and the fields that lay behind the house. I wish you were here with me to share this experience. I miss you, Aakash. If destiny wishes it, then one day we will again arrive at the same place together and we shall count the stars together. Until that day, keep traveling as far as you can and as long as you can, “seeing and being” were your last words for me. I love you very much. Yours forever, Indus n Sharmila Pal spends her time between Seattle and Ladakh with her organisation Wheels Across India where she actively organises and leads low-impact, non-touristy backpacking trips.

When to Visit—The best months to visit Ladakh are from May to September. For adventure sport lovers, the trekking months are July and August. Masked dance festivals organized by various monasteries are held usually between June and July. Getting to Nimmu—From Leh: Hop on to any bus going towards Lamayuru, Mulbek, Kargil, Alchi, Likir, Saspol, or Khaltse. They will stop at Nimmu. Buses run at 6:30 a.m., 8 a.m., and 4p.m. Tickets are Rs 50 (less than a dollar) one way. Afternoon buses are more crowded than the morning ones, so if you want a seat, get to the bus station a bit early. The bus will drop you off at the main market. Alternatively, you can take a local shared taxi (also Rs 50) from Skalzaling. Where to Sleep: Nimmu does not have a lot of fancy hotels. If you are looking for high end services, try the Nimmu House (ladakh.nimmu-house. com). They have permanent tents as well as rooms for accommodation. Breakfast and dinner are included in the price (~Rs 3000 per night ($47)), and lunch is Rs 450 ($7). There are also few budget hotels/guesthouse in the market area. Where to Eat: Nimmu market has several small local restaurants and a big tea/snack shop. The tea shop is a great place to hang out, read a book or write your journal. It is very spacious and you can find your own corner to stake out. There are several local restaurants where they serve Ladakhi food. If you are looking for the Indian fare try Ranjeet Di Hatti. Things To Do: • Village walk: Village walks in Nimmu are always an absolute delight. Walk through the green fields and mountain dirt roads and see where the path takes you. Ask a local person for directions towards the Urgain, Chamba, and Basgo Monasteries (highly recommended, especially Basgo Monastery). The 400 year old Basgo monastery is situated on top a mountain and houses some of the most beautiful murals and images of Buddhist deities. The main attraction is the enormous gold

36 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California. | August 2015

and copper statue of the Maitreyi Buddha (the future Buddha). Don’t forget to climb all the way up to the roof top to enjoy some of the wonderful scenery. If you have more than 2-3 days in Nimmu, try hiking up to the beautiful Nimmu Lake. The path is very steep and not clearly marked. This is a 2 day/1 night trip, so plan accordingly and don’t forget to take food and a good sleeping bag. • Rafting: Nothing comes closer to white water rafting in the foaming waters of the Zanskar and Indus River (gradeII to IV). Daily rafting trips on the Zanksar River starts from Chilling Village (distance 28 km; trip duration 2.5 to three hours; ~$25). The trips end at the confluence point in Nimmu and is usually followed by a hearty lunch. If you are looking for some serious adrenaline rush, try the 5-day Zanskar expedition from Padum to Nimmu—a breath taking rafting and camping expedition that will take you through some of the remotest parts of the river canyon! Apart from the Zanskar River, daily rafting trips as well as expeditions are also offered on the upper and lower Indus River. It is always better to get prior booking from Leh. Some of the reputable rafting companies are: Offbeat, Splash, Wet ‘n Wild, and Luna Ladakh. • Alchi Village: Alchi is perhaps one of my favorite places in Ladakh. Unlike the other gompas (monasteries) in Ladakh, The village is famous for one of the oldest monasteries in Ladakh (a world heritage site). The monastery has magnificent 11th century murals and some stunning woodcarvings. Alchi is best to visit when the cherry blossoms (mid-April) and apricots (midJune to August) are in season. They look fantastic against the crystal blue sky and make the whole village come alive with color. You can get to Alchi either by bus or a local shared taxi. There is a bus from Nimmu’s main market at 9 a.m, which will drop you right in front of the monastery. From Nimmu, it takes about an hour to get to Alchi. Alternatively, you can board the Leh-Kargil bus from Nimmu at 6:00 a.m. n


music & dance

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music

The F16s - Music that Carries You On By Priya Bhatt Das

From l to r: Vikram, Booby, Harshan, Shank, Josh

S

heer astonishment is the sentiment that comes to mind when you hear the F16s. How can an Indian band based in Chennai sound so Rock, from the vocals to the guitaring and keys to the lyrics. Incredibly, they won the 2013 Jack Daniel’s Annual Rock Award for Best Emerging Act. Incredibly, they were winners in the Converse Road to Rubber Tracks contest which had them recording two numbers in Brooklyn, New York. And incredibly, again, they are not musically trained. “None of us have any musical education whatsoever we sort of just picked up our instruments and found each other,” says Josh who does the vocals and guitars. The band already has a seven track album called Kaleidoscope out. Their new album is in stealth mode, will have ten tracks, and is to be launched in September this year. The F16s go by their first or nicknames; the others in the band are Vikramthe drummer, Shank on bass, Harshan on keys, and Abhinav aka Booby (“he was tubby as a child”) on the guitar. When asked how it all started, Josh says, “Chennai is a small city so everybody knows everybody, Vikram, Booby and I went to the same college and Shank and Harshan

38 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California. | August 2015

were mutual friends so we’d hang out with each other often. We decided to meet up one summer and just grab our gear and write some music.” In 2014, Converse, the sports gear and apparel company, held a contest spanning different regions worldwide that would grant the winners studio time at the Rubber Tracks Studio in Brooklyn. The F16s were growing tired of competitions, this seemed like a “what’s-the-worst-thatcould-happen” scenario. They got shortlisted, played the finals, won the contest. Late 2014, at the Brooklyn studio, they recorded two singles: “Blackboard” and “Jacuzzi.” When asked if it was tough deciding on which tracks Josh remembers, “We honestly didn’t give that a lot of thought, apart from the occasional back and forth at practice. The two songs we decided to go with were confirmed right outside the walls of the Rubber Tracks Studio. Those two songs seemed to fit perfectly with the space, the studio, the recording process. ” The new album promises to be dissimilar to the previous releases and talks to universal themes such as romance, morality, selfishness and contempt. Josh describes further, “With a city like Chennai, melancholia comes easy but in spurts which can be easily heard through the record. I think

with this album we find our selves forcefully complexed.” A great example of this are the lyrics to “Digital Dead,” an upcoming track: Digital men with a digital smile, Since I’ve been running in a circle … Cause I’ve been waiting a while Who do they want us to be? Try again, But dont start as yet. No sudden moves, just sudden death. So what comes first, the lyrics or the tune? “It almost always starts with a hook that would click this little knob in our brains that would trigger something that feels like we always knew what to play. We start with a tune and then I sort of spread/ spill lyrics over it, cause I want the music to carry the lyrics and not the other way around,” opines Josh. The Brooklyn-studio-recorded songs have a passive aggressive feel, conveying a rebellion by wholly embracing the “melancholia.” “Blackboard” begins on the upbeat, superb guitaring and keys introducing us to the lyrics which say, “… jumping to the river, but the river wouldn’t carry you on….looking to the mirror but the mirror wasn’t looking at you.” The music lifts you up to counter the lyrics, which are brutally honest. “Jacuzzi” on the other hand, has suspenseful music in tune with the lyrics that start off “As I’m walking on broken glass…” If living in Chennai and living off of its vibe has literally driven the F16s to music, then their New York experience will prove to be one of the defining moments of their musical caliber. As Josh says, “New York is the originator, the place where innovations in musical styles begin.” Check out the F16s on their facebook page online. Kaleidoscope is avalailable on iTunes. (Warning: Some numbers have explicit content.) n Priya Das is an enthusiastic follower of world music and avidly tracks intersecting points between folk, classical, jazz and other genres.


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626-590-5547 August 2015 | Southern California. | www.indiacurrents.com | 39


On Inglish

The Churidar Gets a Nod By Kalpana Mohan

churidar, noun. long tight-fitting trousers, worn by Indian men and women. Also called churidar pyjamas. From Hindi.

I

naturally stretchy right around the stupa-like derriere section n the closing week of June, the Internet was abuzz that the where I hoard the pounds. The pants are longer than the leg Hindi word “churidar” would henceforth be part of the Engand therefore they finish with their excess length crinkling lish lexicon. I pondered my sartorial expression in a country into a flourish of snug cuffs, of “bangles,” at the ankles. that I’d called home since 1985. For several decades, I’ve been Hence the term “churidar” in which the Hindi word “churi” wearing the churidar in the United States at both Indian and refers to “bangle.” western social affairs. I justify my fashion preference this way: While the sari I used to wear it to work on some Fridays when I was a prois the Indian woman’s winning weapon of mass destruction, grammer at IBM. Now I might wear it to meetings with my eclecthe churidar combines the feminine and the masculine in an tic writing group. Sometimes, I may be seen in it at Safeway—in elegant, yet functional, way. consort with my bindi, my bangles, my child-bearing hips, my As the years go by and another layer of fat stores away, black hair, my brown skin and my accent, all of which collectively like new files settling in old drawers, I resort to clothes in betray my background. which I feel feminine, confident and As I considered the acceptance of somewhat leaner. But such a justifianother Indian word into the Babel cation pits me against my daughter of global communication, I wondered Why should you have to conform who claims to never comprehend about the idea of acceptance itself. I in order to feel accepted? Why why I don’t sport much western attire know several friends who prefer to not anymore. be seen in Indian garments in a public should acceptance have to be a “My knees are plump,” I say, in space dominated by non-Indians. My by-product of conformity? defense of my choice. Didn’t she realquestions to them always are: Why ize that on a blustery dull day, my legs should you have to conform in order could pass off for those balusters at to feel accepted? Why should accepthe Versailles Palace? tance have to be a by-product of conformity? “No, mom, while you’re not slim like you once were, In an increasingly divided world, I still believe that most you look just fine,” she retorts. Her voice crackles into the people accept others, despite differences, as long as their personal phone. “And so you’re telling me, mother, that a million space is not disrespected or invaded in some way. Last month, my other women in their fifties—who resemble lumps of lard— friends and relatives in India—even those who would never have are not wearing dresses or carrying them off very well?” she embraced a child or a relative if he or she were gay—wore the emasks, tut-tutting into the noisy Manhattan air. blem of gay pride on their Facebook profile. I surmised that it was Then I tell my size 4 fashionista—who hasn’t yet experia beginning, rather, a tentative nod before a grudging acceptance. enced the billowing stretches of gestation, contraction, parIronically perhaps, the announcement by the US Supreme turition, and lactation—that she must not speak. I elaborate. Court of the legality of same sex marriage arrived right around Age has a way of drying out a body from deep inside; youth the time the Oxford dictionary decided to include the terms “Arprogressively drains out from every unseen pore of the body rey yaar” and “churidar,” and the choices, in my view, perfectly until flab flaps around like a flag at half-mast. And thus I matched the mood of the week, marking the breakdown of barrisegue towards the finale: I just do not feel myself anymore ers and formality between those inside a circle and those outside in skirts and dresses. of it. The inclusion of “churidar” was somewhat of a non-event My daughter does not realize that I enjoy looking difduring that momentous week. All the same, I was delighted. ferent wherever I go. I just plain believe that I can blend I love the churidar for its versatility. On informal evenings with in while standing out. Then I proceed to tell her how I friends, I slide a black churidar over my legs, slap a tunic on top look forward to the tactile nature of an acceptance—in an and throw a scarf around my neck. If I so choose, I can wear a chuembrace, in a handshake or in the clink of ridar to hike the California Coastal trail for views of the Golden the wine glass that I’m holding up for a Gate bridge; it might be the perfect shield from the unpredictable toast. n wind, fog and chill of the San Francisco Bay. The tight fitting legs of the churidar are cut narrow at the Kalpana Mohan writes from California’s Siliankle such that the contours of my leg reveal themselves where, con Valley. To read more about her, go to http:// thankfully, they are the slimmest. Since the pants are cut on the kalpanamohan.org and http://saritorial.com. bias—woven fabric is more elastic in the bias direction—they are 40 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California. | August 2015


August 2015 | Southern California. | www.indiacurrents.com | 41


recipes

Go Kale Green For Summer By Shanta Sacharoff

K

ale, an extremely nutritious leafy green vegetable, is a part of the cabbage family. The impressive profile of kale lists many important nutrients. One cup of cooked kale contains over 300% Recommended Daily Allowance (RDA) of vitamin A, almost 100% RDA of vitamin C, and over 1000% RDA of vitamin K, also 10% RDA of calcium, and 6% RDA of iron. Unlike spinach, kale is low in oxalates, so the calcium and iron in kale is easier to assimilate. One cup of cooked kale has only 40 calories, but offers three grams of protein. Several varieties of kale are available in the market. The most common are curly

green kale and dark green dino kale. Kale can be eaten raw in a salad, or you can stir-fry it quickly described below. Here are three recipes for kale, one simple and two more elaborate. n Shanta Nimbark Sacharoff, author of Flavors Of India: Vegetarian Indian Cuisine is a coowner of Other Avenues Food Cooperative in San Francisco. Serena Sacharoff is a chef, an illustrator and an art student. Illustration by Serena Sacharoff

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Kale Stir-Fry

Ingredients 2 tbsp olive oil or sunflower oil 3 cloves of garlic, peeled and minced ¼ tsp whole cumin seeds 6 cups green, curly or dino kale, rinsed, drained and finely chopped ¼ tsp salt (or to taste) juice of ½ lemon or lime Method Heat the oil in a frying pan and add the garlic. Saute for 2 minutes. Add cumin seeds. After another minute or two add the kale, and stir-fry the mixture for five minutes or until the leaves are wilted. Add the salt and lemon or lime juice, toss, and serve. Variation: Pan fry a cup of small paneer, tofu or boiled potato cubes in a teaspoon of oil and add to kale after it has been wilted.

Baked Kale Chips

Ingredients 8 to 10 large dino kale leaves 2 tbsp olive oil 1/8 tsp salt (or to taste) Method Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Prepare the kale as follows: remove any thick central stems and discard. Wash the leaves thoroughly and drain them well. Spread the leaves in a single layer on a cloth or paper towel, and roll the kale in the towel gently to absorb as much of the moisture as possible. Lay the leaves flat on a cutting board and rub them gently on both sides with a small amount of oil. Sprinkle a bit of salt on one side, and lay the leaves in a single layer on a lightly-oiled cookie sheet (or two). Bake the leaves for 10 minutes. If done, they will be crisp, like cooked papadam. If the leaves are still limp, bake them for another 2 minutes, watching carefully so they don’t burn. Using tongs, flip the leaves, and bake them for another minute or two, watching carefully. Transfer the hot chips to a platter and serve hot or cold as a snack or as an appetizer.

Kale Pakora

This recipe was inspired by an appetizer I had at the Vermilion Restaurant in Manhattan last winter. I had ordered “kale

Kale Stir Fry

A Creative Commons Image salad,” expecting a bowl of chopped kale with dressing. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised with hot kale fritters like pakoras, while it was freezing cold outside! Ingredients 8 to 10 large green, curly, or dino kale leaves 1 cup of garbanzo or chick-pea flour (also known as besan in Indian markets) 3 cloves of garlic, peeled and minced ¼ tsp each ground cumin and ground coriander a few pinches of ground cayenne pepper to taste ½ tsp (or to taste) salt juice of ½ lemon or lime approximately ¾ cup or more water 2 cups light oil such as canola, peanut or sunflower seed oil Method Wash, rinse and dry the kale thoroughly as described in the recipe for Kale Chips. Cut kale into smaller pieces and lay them on a platter. In a mixing bowl, combine the garbanzo flour, spices, salt and lemon juice. Add water as needed to make a batter that is similar to pancake batter. Heat the oil in a wok or a heavy frying pan until it is very hot. Check that the oil is hot enough by dropping a small piece of batter into the oil. If the piece bubbles and rises to the surface right away the oil is ready. Dip two pieces of kale into the bowl and cover them with batter, leaving some parts of the leaves uncovered. This will

give the finished pakora a light, tempuralike texture much different than traditional pakoras. Carefully, slide two or three of the dough-covered kale pieces into the hot oil. Keep your distance from the hot oil as it may splatter due to moisture in the leaves. When the kale pieces are crisp and light brown, turn them quickly using a tong and cook them briefly on the other side. Remove them from the oil and lay them on a platter lined with paper towels. Repeat the process in small batches until all of the leaves are cooked. Arrange them on a platter in a single layer to keep them crisp. Serve hot or at room temperature with mint chutney.

Mint Chutney

Ingredients 1 cup fresh mint leaves, stems re moved ½ cup chopped scallions, including greens 1 tbsp freshly grated gingerroot 1 or 2 hot chilies, seeds and veins removed, chopped fine 1 tsp salt ½ cup plain soy yogurt blended with ¼ cup of water Method Place the ingredients in the jar of a food processor or blender and puree until smooth. Keep it chilled until ready to use. If refrigerated in a covered jar, the chutney will keep for a week. n

August 2015 | Southern California. | www.indiacurrents.com | 43


44 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California. | August 2015


SPIRITUALITY & HEALTH

August

1 Saturday

Shri Krishna Katha. Ends Aug. 3. Organized by Vishwa Shanti Sewa Charitable Mission USA. Jain Center, 8072 Commonwealth Ave., Buena Park. (714) 462-4692. info@vsscmusa.org. www.vsscmusa.org.

August

2 Sunday

Understanding the Mystery of Life and Death. Sunday Service. Lake Shrine Temple and Retreat, 17190 Sunset Blvd., Pacific Palisades. (310) 454-4114. Hollywood Temple, 4860 Sunset Blvd., Hollywood. (323) 661-8006. Glendale Temple, 2146 East Chevy Chase Drive, Glendale. (818) 543-0800. Fullerton Temple, 142 East Chapman Ave., Fullerton. (714) 525-1291. Encinitas Temple, 939 Second Street, Encinitas. (760) 436-7220. San Diego Temple, 3072 First Avenue, San Diego. (619) 295-0170. Call temples for times. Organized by Self Realization Fellowship. www.yogananda-srf.org.

August

9 Sunday

Awakening Your Divine Nature.

Sunday Service. Lake Shrine Temple and Retreat, 17190 Sunset Blvd., Pacific Palisades. (310) 454-4114. Hollywood Temple, 4860 Sunset Blvd., Hollywood. (323) 6618006. Glendale Temple, 2146 East Chevy Chase Drive, Glendale. (818) 543-0800. Fullerton Temple, 142 East Chapman Ave., Fullerton. (714) 525-1291. Encinitas Temple, 939 Second Street, Encinitas. (760) 436-7220. San Diego Temple, 3072 First Avenue, San Diego. (619) 295-0170. Call temples for times. Organized by Self Realization Fellowship. www.yoganandasrf.org.

August

16 Sunday

Your Role in God’s Drama of Creation. Sunday Service. Lake Shrine Temple and Retreat, 17190 Sunset Blvd.,

Pacific Palisades. (310) 454-4114. Hollywood Temple, 4860 Sunset Blvd., Hollywood. (323) 661-8006. Glendale Temple, 2146 East Chevy Chase Drive, Glendale. (818) 543-0800. Fullerton Temple, 142 East Chapman Ave., Fullerton. (714) 525-1291. Encinitas Temple, 939 Second Street, Encinitas. (760) 436-7220. San Diego Temple, 3072 First Avenue, San Diego. (619) 295-0170. Call temples for times. Organized by Self Realization Fellowship. www.yogananda-srf.org.

August

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Temple and Retreat, 17190 Sunset Blvd., Pacific Palisades. (310) 4544114. Hollywood Temple, 4860 Sunset Blvd., Hollywood. (323) 661-8006. Glendale Temple, 2146 East Chevy Chase Drive, Glendale. (818) 5430800. Fullerton Temple, 142 East Chapman Ave., Fullerton. (714) 5251291. Encinitas Temple, 939 Second Street, Encinitas. (760) 436-7220. San Diego Temple, 3072 First Avenue, San Diego. (619) 295-0170. Call temples for times. Organized by Self Realization Fellowship. www.yogananda-srf.org.

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Shrine Temple and Retreat, 17190 Sunset Blvd., Pacific Palisades. (310) 454-4114. Hollywood Temple, 4860 Sunset Blvd., Hollywood. (323) 6618006. Glendale Temple, 2146 East Chevy Chase Drive, Glendale. (818) 543-0800. Fullerton Temple, 142 East Chapman Ave., Fullerton. (714) 5251291. Encinitas Temple, 939 Second Street, Encinitas. (760) 436-7220. San Diego Temple, 3072 First Avenue, San Diego. (619) 295-0170. Call temples for times. Organized by Self Realization Fellowship. www.yogananda-srf.org.

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August 2015 | Southern California. | www.indiacurrents.com | 45


events AUGUST

California’s Best Guide to Indian Events Edited by: Mona Shah List your event for FREE! SEPTEMBER issue deadline: Thursday, August 20 To list your event in the Calendar, go to www.indiacurrents.com and click on List Your Event

Check us out on

special dates India Independence Day

Aug. 15

Onam

Aug. 28

Raksha Bandhan

Aug. 29

Krishna Janamashtami

Sept. 5

CULTURAL CALENDER

August

1 Saturday

Shiv—A Play. This post-Colonial fantasy loosely based on Shiva, the Hindu destroyer god, explores a vividly rendered relationship between a girl becoming a young American woman and the South Asian poet father who inspires and eventually disappoints her. By turns poetic, metaphysical, and richly human, the play paints a compelling portrait of how challenging it is to be an immigrant in a new country where all the rules are different. Ends Aug. 9. Organized by Boston Court. 8-10 p.m. The Theatre at Boston Court, 70 North Mentor Ave., Pasadena. General $34, $29 students/seniors. (626)

Shiv Vivah, a dance drama by Shivam Arts, August 29

683-6883. www.bostoncourt.com.

Sacred Geometry. A 30th anniversary production by Rangoli Dance Company, Artistic Director Malathi iyengar and guest artist Dorcas Roman. This dance

46 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California. | August 2015

uses geometric figures and shapes to describe the beauty of creation, and how absolute unity exhibits multiplicity and diversity. 7 p.m. Barnsdall Gallery Theater, 4800 Hollywood Blvd., Los Angeles. $30, $50 reserved. rangolidancecompany@gmail.com.


recommends

Don Quixote, Revived in Bharatnatyam

W

hat is right? What is madness? More so, what looks right to society may not make sense to the one man who is prepared to move beyond himself through the power of imagination to craft a world of hope, and so it seems to choreographer and director Sheejith Krishna of Chennai’s Sahrdaya Foundation in describing the upcoming revived tale of Don Quixote debuting thissummer. Don Quixote, a Sahrdaya production, is the first crosscultural stage adaptation of the seventeenth-century novel by Spain’s legendary Miguel Cervantes within the framework of a South Indian art form. The United States tour is sponsored by Kalapeetham Foundation and the first showing in Southern California will also honor the Los Angeles based dance school’s 25th anniversary. The two and a half hour English production though “rooted in the idiom of bharatnatyam and Karnatik music” according to Kalapeetham’s assistant artistic director Tharini Shanmugarajah, also differs according to Krishna, “true freedom lies in the ability to travel beyond without breaking the rules,” and hence classical language can be used in an entirely different way as in the case of Don Quixote’s unification with contemporary elements, theater and mime. “Audiences must come and watch how we have pulled off this mix of classical tradition and experimentation across cultures,” asserts Krishna. The new adaptation is scripted and narrated by Akhila Ramnarayan who compressed the extensive and complex story line to approximately fifteen scenes. The challenge according to Ramnarayan lay in translating a classic, “a sprawling

By Shyamal Randeria Leonard satire from seventeenth century Spain into a performance genre from another culture, for a twenty-first century audience,” while ensuring that the “original edge and the essential humanity,” was not lost.

The story centers on the Spanish knight errant, Don Quixote, played by Krishna who is determined to restore chivalry in his land. Accompanied by his faithful friend Sancho Panza, played by Madhusudhan, the two set out to save the world through a series of adventures and mishaps. Accompanying artists include Manjari, Anjana Anand, Nidheesh Kumar, K.M. Jayakrishnan, Season Unnikrishnan, Rajamally, Radha Ganesan, Tharini Shanmugarajah, Prithvija Balagopalan and Divya Nayar. The idea to restructure this tale is partly due to its universal appeal per Krishna and Ramnarayan. The plot “belongs to all of us, you can learn all you want to know about life and art from it. What greater joy

than to tell a story about ordinary people and their desire to dream, in the face of bankruptcy, enslavement and death?” Past its successful premiere in Chennai in March and the first show in Southern California, the production will continue to the Bay Area, along with eleven additional performance scheduled between August and October 2015. Kalapeetham was founded in 1990 by Kalyani Shanmugarajah and offers classes in the Kalakshetra style of bharatanatyam, traditional folk dance, and theory through its numerous locations in Los Angeles and Orange County. The younger Shanmugarajah, Tharini, established the performing wing of Kalapeetham in 2005 with an aim to not only showcase their craft, but to also give back to the community. Apart from raising funds for Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation and the International Medical Health Organization, annual benefit performances have raised up to $75,000 since 2005 for select charities says Tharini. Sponsoring a production of this magnitude, and the collaboration between national organizers and an esteemed organizations such as Sahrdaya, which is focused on the arts of India such as bharatanatyam, Karnatik music, and allied classical and contemporary forms is also a hallmark moment for Kalapeetham states Tharini. n Saturday, August 29, 5:00 p.m. Redondo Beach Performing Arts Center 1935 Manhattan Beach Blvd., Redondo Beach $25$15. Kalapeethamfoundation@gmail.com, http://Kalapeetham.tix.com.

August 2015 | Southern California. | www.indiacurrents.com | 47


events

B

California’s Best Guide to Indian Events

Shiv Vivah—A Dance Drama

ased on the epic book KumarSambhav, written by poet Kalidas, the Sanskrit poetry narrates the enduring love of Parvati for Shiva and her efforts at winning over her beloved by penances and austerities. As the story goes, the mighty Narad Muni has made a prophecy that Parvati is destined to be the wife of none other than Lord Shiva. Shiva has already renounced the world and is leading a life deep in the penance in the mountains. Devas now have a tough challenge before them, how to lure Shiva into marrying Parvati. Kamdev, the God of Love, was given the task. The cupid succeeds in his attempt but gets engulfed in the flames of anger coming out from Shiva’s third eye. Parvati, stricken with grief renounces the world and goes into deeper meditation. At last mighty Shiva Sees Parvati’s true devotion and accepts her love. The divine

wedding takes place. The whole story will come alive with choreography by Punam Kumar, founder and director, Shivam Arts School of Kathak Dance. With gorgeous backdrops, costumes and an original music score, it transports the audience to a different land and time. The grand finale is a collaborative work with a renowned Flamenco artist Clarita Corona and the Shivam Arts company dancers, to a live musical ensemble. The dance expresses the fusion of two cultures and their dance styles, which according to Spanish Gitano (gypsy) and Rajpoot legend (India), shared a common ancestry. Improvisation and rhythms are common in both the dance styles. n August 29, 4:30 p.m., at La Mirada Performing Arts Center, 14900 La Mirada Blvd., La Mirada. Tickets: $25, $35. (714)891-3799, (714)293-4569. punam.kathak@yahoo.com, sonalkumar80@hotmail.com.

Kavita Krishnamurthy performs in Bollywood and Beyond, September 12

48 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California. | August 2015

www.rangoli.org, rangoli.brownpapertickets. com.

August

15 Saturday

Independence Day Celebration.

Music, dances and entertainment. Grand Marshall Raveena Tandon. Organized by United Federation of Indo-Americans of California. 6-11 p.m. Excelsior High School Grounds, 15711 Pioneer Blvd., Norwalk. (562) 743-2673, (562) 274-3210, (562) 619-5090.

August

29 Saturday

Shiv Vivah—The Celestial Wedding of Lord Shiva and Devi Paravati.

Based on the mythological tale from Kumar Sambhav by Kalidas, the production features an original music score. performances will highlight traditional and contemporary aspects of kathak, with a finale featuring flamenco artist, Clarita Corona. Presented by Shivam Arts, Artistic Director and Choreographer Punam Kumar,


events

California’s Best Guide to Indian Events

with Aloke Dasgupta (sitar), Ramesh Kumar (tabla) and Neel Kumar (vocals and harmonium). 4:30 p.m. La Mirada Theater for the Performing Arts, 14900 La Mirada Blvd., La Mirada. $24, $35 reserved. (714) 891-3799, (714) 293-4569. punam.kathak@yahoo.com, sonalkumar@ hotmail.com.

Kathak Extravaganza

Don Quixote. An idealistic dreamer sets out to revive the lost tradition of chivalry. Accompanied by his faithful friend Sancho Panza, Don Quixote has a series of fantastic adventures in his quest to save the world. Miguel Cervantes’ seventeenthcentury novel spotlights the power of storytelling. It celebrates the extraordinariness of ordinary people coming together across differences and difficulties. Beauty and dignity emerge out of indignity and ugliness, as do conviction, passion, humor, and heart. Organized by Kalapeetham. 5 p.m. Redondo Beach Performing Arts Center, 1935 Manhattan Beach Blvd., Redondo Beach. quixote.in/story.html.

September

12 Saturday

The Happiest Walk on Earth— Walk for Hope. A compassion themed

3-kilometer art-walk. Visit the Tree of Forgiveness, a Garden of Kindness, Paintings of Inspiring Quotes, and much more. Organized by Be the Cause. 10 a.m.-1 p.m. El Dorado Park East, 7701 E. Spring St., Long Beach. Free. $7 parking. walk@ bethecause.org. www.bethecause.org.

Bollywood and Beyond. Kavita

Krishnamurthy performs with L. Subramaniam’s orchestra. The show will feature songs from Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, Malayalam, Hindi and Bengali movies. The second half presents a fusion concert by L. Subramaniam and Ambi Subramaniam with two time Grammy award winning saxophonist Ernie Watts. Organized by India Fine Arts Academy San Diego. 6-8:45 p.m. California Center for the Arts, 340 N Escondido Blvd., Escondido. $25$250. (800) 988-4253. artcenter.org/event/ bollywood-and-beyond/, www.indianfinearts. org. © Copyright 2015 India Currents. All rights reserved. Reproduction for commercial use strictly prohibited.

W

ith the intent of spreading the art of kathak, Shankara Dance Academy hosts a trinity of kathak legends. Pandit Birju Maharaj, the unparalleled dance master of Lucknow gharana expanding his expertise as a brilliant musician, composer, choreographer, percussionist, teacher and poet. In a serendipitous spirit of guru-shishya parampara, Pandit Birju Maharaji dances with two of his disciples—both renowned artists and teachers in their own right, Saswati Sen and Abhay Shankar Mishra. Saswati Sen is the senior most disciple of Maharaj-ji and Abhay Shankar Mishra choreographs dances using all three gharana traditions.These three artists prove that this classical dance form is still relevant, as they move you by their command of rhythm, music, movement, grace, and

class; expressing complexities and emotions so simply in an effortless elegance. Their expression crosses boundaries and connects us with the creative artist within us all. Accompanied by a live orchestra and musicians including Utpal Ghoshal, Anirban Bhttacharyaa, and Uday Shankar Mishra, Paul Livingstone and Rupesh Kotecha. Shankara Dance Academy’s Arti Manek, a kathak artist, is a disciple of Abhay Shankar Mishra who is also a visiting teacher at this academy. n Sunday, August 23, 6:30 p.m. Irvine Barclay Theatre, 4242 Campus Dr., Irvine. www.shankaradance.com. $40 and up. 714-299-3525.

August 2015 | Southern California. | www.indiacurrents.com | 49


events

California’s Best Guide to Indian Events

Traveling Dance Festival By Priya Das

Shubha Dhananjay, kathak; Dimple Rajesh, mohiniattam; Divya Natraj, kuchipudi; Rachana Rao, bharatanatyam

I

n 2009, Saraswathi Rajathesh was having lunch with a friend and reminisced about a college-hood dream of learning the many classical dance styles of India. They had an Aha! moment which translated to Nrithya Bharathi, the idea being, to showcase all the classical dance forms under one platform. For good measure, it was decided that it would be a “travelling” festival, which would be hosted in various cities, to create an even more widespread awareness. And so it was, that bharatanatyam, kuchipudi, mohiniattam, kathakali, odissi, manipuri, kathak and sattriya were all staged under one platform and performed in Bangalore, Thanjavur, New Delhi, and Aurangabad; one city each year. This year, for the first time, it will be staged outside of India, in Los Angeles. The Doctor in Rajathesh’s name comes from being a dentist; though she has a Masters in bharatanatyam and kuchipudi. She is a versatile dancer,

50 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California | August 2015

teacher, choreographer and has performed in India, Europe, and USA. She runs her own school, Natyasaraswathi in Bangalore, Hyderabad, and the United States. Her disciples will also be participating in the festival. Another fresh aspect of this year’s festival is that it will have dancers from India and the United States. The program will start with an inaugural dance on Lord Ganesha by the Natyasaraswathi ensemble (US and India), followed by solos by guest dancers. The finale is always a fusion Vande Mataram. The guest dancer lineup comprises kathak (Shubha Dhananjay from Bangalore), manipuri (Krishnakali Dasgupta from Boston), bharatanatyam (Rachana Rao from Bangalore), kuchipudi (Divya Natraj from Bangalore), mohiniattam (Dimple Rajesh from New Delhi and Doha). Speaking of how the cast, so to speak, is put together, Rajathesh says, “The rules are set by the festival committee, which includes artists from various parts drawn randomly.”

Aptly described as a “woman of action” Rajathesh has other events planned. One is to be called Vaidya Kalaranga, which in her words, “is a platform for medical practitioners skilled also in Indian arts …it is a Doctors Arts Festival.. for doctors like me!” The other is Kelika, a Dance Theater Festival, the “only festival for dance dramas, solo, and group dance theatre which would showcase all dance styles including contemporary, classical, and folk,” says Rajathesh. Nrithya Bharathi is a non-commercial venture, with enthusiast-families hosting the artists and volunteers putting in the funds and time to make the festival happen. There will be Indian cuisine available at the venue. n Aug. 22, 4 p.m. Park La Brea Theater; 475 S. Curson Ave., Los Angeles. Tickets: $25. indiandanceplb.eventbrite.com, (323) 5495470, (323) 215-7576.


healthy life

Why Nothing is My Favorite Meal of the Day A look at Intermittent Fasting By Nihaal Karnik and Ronesh Sinha

L

et’s talk about one of my favorite meals….a delicious plate of nothing. Prep time is zero minutes and physical and mental health benefits are unlimited. Nihaal Karnik, a third year medical student at Ross University School of Medicine, writes about his personal experience and reviews some of the latest research on a topic close to my heart, intermittent fasting (aka IF). Don’t miss some of my thoughts at the end on how I have used IF personally and clinically.

Overview

I just finished working from 5 a.m. to 10 p.m. Yup, the ever glamorous lifestyle of a medical student. The last meal I ate consisted of 2-3 hardboiled eggs I scarfed down as I ran into the hospital; because, even at 5 a.m. I am considered late for a day of work. I’ve arrived home only to see an empty fridge and realize no restaurants are open. I need to eat. I’ve read every blog post, seen every interview, and even heard from doctors that I should be eating every 4-6 hours. I mean I cannot possibly miss this meal, right? Not necessarily. Skipping a meal or two may not be the worst thing for me. In fact, a growing body of evidence suggests that missing meals (fasting) may be to my benefit. Intermittent Fasting (IF) represents a unique approach to nutrition. The approach intends to burn fat and produce muscle when combined with a proper exercise regimen. The name underscores basic principles of the program: fasting for intermittent periods of time. Research suggests a wide number of benefits: potential protective benefits against various cancers, fat loss, muscle building, curbing hunger cravings, as well as increased insulin sensitivity (refer to other posts on diabetes and insulin resistance). This article aims to introduce readers to

IF while providing some basic background on the principles of this model. Hopefully this read encourages our audience to research IF and explore the possibility of incorporating IF into one’s own daily routine.

Basic Principles

The basic principle centers upon caloric restriction for extended stretches of time. The idea behind this is two fold: 1) It falls in line with ancestral diet principles and 2) Induces hormonal responses that promote fat burning, muscle building, and overall well being. The majority of blog posts and litera-

ture surrounding IF introduce it to us in the context of paleo dieting. The average cave man did not always have a fridge full of food to satisfy his primal hunger. Instead he went through cycles of feast (eating) and famine (fasting). Incorporating an approach that keeps the body in between a fasting and fed state is a natural extension of our ancestral diet. Excessive feasting serves as a major contributor to the variety of metabolic symptoms that plague society, today. Furthermore, hormonal changes govern IF’s effectiveness. The key hormone

discussed here is Growth Hormone, a natural hormone that regulates metabolism and is released by the body during the following phases: starvation, extreme/intense exercise, and rest. It is involved in muscle synthesis as well as lipolysis (fat breakdown). Proponents of IF outline that fasting states induce the release of extra growth hormone—thus helping to promote simultaneous fat burning and muscle growth.

Potential Benefits

In addition to the obvious benefits of muscle mass development and fat burning IF has a number of potential benefits. These may or may not include: 1. Satiety (feeling nice and full). This may seem counterintuitive but studies show even alternate day fasting (see more below) may promote satiety. 2. Diabetes. Promising research shows that IF may be an effective alternative to calorie restriction and weight loss to prevent diabetes. More research is pending and the authors themselves conclude more research is needed to make definitive conclusions. However preliminary reviews of IF as a way to combat diabetes are promising. 3. Help combat eating disorders by tackling restrictive eating and body image issues. 4. Cardioprotective (hearty healthy) benefits. New research suggests IF may even protect the heart and lead to weight loss.

Models of IF

The basic idea of IF may be simple enough. However, for those who may seem intimidated by the challenge of fasting, don’t worry. A number of IF techniques exist to appeal to beginners and experienced fasters alike. Literature

August 2015 | Southern California | www.indiacurrents.com | 51


in this new regimen do not be discouraged by mild irritability or uneasiness with the adjustment. Although the idea of fasting may be simple, readers often wonder what to eat during prescribed meal times. The theory of IF does not mean one can eat whatever they desire during his or her feast period. Adherents still need to incorporate healthy eating habits (e.g. non-processed foods, loads of fresh veggies, and good hormone free/free range meat). For instance, if I were to eat a meal or two during my feast window, it may consist of a huge spinach salad with grass-fed beef, avocado, and a healthy dressing. Or, I may decide to have some fresh fish with steamed veggies. The point is that the feast period does not mean one can instantly hit the closest drive thru window since there was a prolonged fasting period. Below is a small list with brief descriptions of some of the more popular ways individuals may approach incorporating IF: Alternate Day Fasting—One of the more popular methods. Proposed by Dr. Varady of the University of Illinois, the diet aims to offer patients a more inviting approach to fasting. Instead of incorporating a daily fast, the diet asks patients to fast every other day. Varady recommends 500 calories during one meal every other day. Her research, although young and ongoing, is quite promising. Patients who abided by this approach were a) more likely to continue this diet long term and b) actually restricted calorie intake on their regular/non-fasting days. Researchers theorize they restricted calories on non-fasting days since their bodies became adapted to the new approach. 12/12—A great approach for beginners. This simply suggests that patients have a 12 hour fasting window, and a 12 hour feasting window. A popular schedule may be to fast from 7pm to 7am. 18/6—A variation of the 12/12 model: here patients fast for 18 hours and feast for 6. One schedule maybe to eat only from 1 p.m.-7 p.m. Occasionally missing a meal—Some people just listen to their bodies and skip a meal from time to time. Proponents of this model suggest not forcing a meal may help curb binge eating and be beneficial when periodically used.

Conclusions

Intermittent fasting represents a new

52 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California | August 2015

way to approach caloric restriction. Although research concerning the metabolic benefits of this approach is promising, larger studies are needed to support clinical claims. Those interested in the diet should definitely research more about the topic. Combining this approach with a proper diet may offer individuals a way to achieve new body and metabolic goals. So, at 10 p.m. at night I have two simple choices. I can go to bed and enjoy the potential benefits of my fast. Or, try to get a quick meal given the annals of conventional wisdom. As I mentioned earlier, it may not be a bad thing to skip this particular meal. Enjoying the perks of integrated fasts may make me a bit stronger, leaner, and hopefully a wiser medical student… though I guess the literature is still pending on that last wish.

Dr. Ron’s Clinical Insights on Intermittent Fasting

I am personally using and prescribing intermittent fasting for selected patients. However, many of my patients are coming in with significant micronutrient deficiencies and weight gain from under eating, overstressing and over exercising. Often these are women. I don’t initially recommend IF for these patients. I need to make sure these patients are well-nourished to replete these missing nutrients and we have to work on stress reduction and life balance which are top priorities. Eating more frequently may have to be initially implemented to replace key nutrients. Once we restore nutrient deficiencies and any hormonal and metabolic imbalances and patients start feeling better, they can then incorporate IF into their lifestyle plan. IF used in the right context can potentially increase lifespan and reduce inflammation. However, adding IF to a nutrient-deficient diet can make matters worse and I have seen inflammatory mark-

ers and body weight actually increase as a result. For individuals who are eating a very high carbohydrate diet, adding IF may backfire since it can generate extreme hunger followed by compensatory binge eating. You need to first fix your eating habits, with a focus on adding healthy fats, proteins and more plants, which will act as a natural appetite suppressant. Once your body and metabolism are prepared, then IF can be used effectively. I have busy patients who generally skip breakfast already, thinking they are fasting, but then they overeat processed foods and excess carbohydrates later which worsens their weight and underlying health issues. Finally, I highly recommend you fast with a purpose that goes beyond just weight loss and achieving ideal body composition. In most cultures fasting is a selfless act devoted to some higher spirit, rather than the somewhat egotistic pursuit of ideal body composition. Just reflect on the list of fasts undertaken by Mahatma Gandhi if you need inspiration to selflessly skip just a single meal. If the word “fasting” sounds too spartan, just call it “meal skipping.” Try fasting for a departed relative, your favorite god, a specific life goal or higher purpose, etc. I personally have noticed that on IF days I can think more clearly, exercise longer and stronger, and meditate with greater focus. There are times I do use it for somewhat selfish purposes. For example, I use it strategically for important meetings and presentations as a cognitive performance enhancer. It beats caffeine or stimulants since its natural and you avoid the inevitable “crash” from stimulants. If I knew about it in my earlier life, I would have used it for school exams. Today’s students flood their systems with sugar and caffeine…just think sodas, frappuccinos and energy drinks, which are staple fuels for kids today. Giving IF a higher purpose will make it more effortless, will allow us to practice selflessness which all of us can benefit from, and in the end, you will still enjoy the physical and mental benefits. n Ronesh Sinha, M.D. is a physician for the Palo Alto Medical Foundation who sees high risk South Asian patients, he blogs at southasianhealthsolution.org, and co-hosts a South Asian radio show on health.


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dear doctor

How Do I Continue On in a Love-less Marriage? By Alzak Amlani

Q

I have been married to my husband for ten years and we have two children. I was in my mid-thirties when I met my husband. I hadn’t had much luck with men prior to him. I wanted children and we both shared some interests, which is probably why I married him. I was never in love with him. Nowadays, we fight quite often. The behavior and reactions that my husband and I display remind me of my family growing up at home. So, it’s familiar, but frustrating and dissatisfying. I also get into negative moods and emotional patterns that remind me of myself as a child. How do I deal with living in a marriage that’s not fulfilling and getting much better?

A

You obviously have a lot of awareness of your internal and family dynamics. Repetition of family patterns in relationships, especially with intimate partners, is actually quite common. We are often drawn to people who are

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like our parents, since that was our first “intimate” relationship. We first fell in love with our parents and formed attachment patterns that deeply structured our inner selves. Although our parents had their personality issues and were limited in their own development, most of us were still cared for and loved by them. We learned everything about connecting and separating from them. Their influence upon our development is quite powerful. What else can we do but mirror what we learned? You mention that you were never in love with your spouse. Now the question is, after these ten years and having two children together, do you respect him? Some couples don’t fall in love, they grow in love. If there is a common base for similar values and interests then love can grow. However, this will take some interpersonal work. You must talk to your spouse about the challenges, fears, conflict and

dissatisfaction that you experience. This has to be done skillfully and kindly, without blame or judgment. It can lead to seeing each other more deeply and recognizing the challenges as well as the commitments you undertook as a couple and as a family unit. You might face a profound moment that could bring you closer. Fulfillment in a marriage is not only about the marriage or partner. It’s about working through our disappointments and figuring out why and where we are stuck in our relationships. That will also give you an insight into your mood swings. I woula also like to add that most people need professional help to make significant changes. n

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the last word

Will the Real Bobby Jindal Please Stand Up? By Sarita Sarvate

W

have discriminated against gays and lesbians, Jindal issued an henever Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal talks, executive order on “Religious Freedom” allowing corporations I cringe. He reminds me of Peter Sellers trying to and organizations to exercise their religious beliefs by effectively imitate an Indian guy pretending to be a Southerner. giving them an option to deny services to same-sex couples. Or rather, lacking Peter Seller’s talent, he sounds like a B-actor In the wake of the South Carolina shootings, he did not playing a bumbling Indian imitating a Southern politician. speak in favor of getting rid of the confederate flag from official Bobby Jindal is God’s gift to American comedians. In an efbuildings, instead suggesting that the States should make that fort to outdo all the other farcical characters in the field of 2016 decision. Republican presidential candidates, he is being as outlandishly His campaign slogan is: “Tanned. Rested. Ready.” Does he ridiculous as possible. really think he is so white that he can actually get tanned? What happened to Bobby Jindal? The video announcing his presidential bid showed him What happened to Jindal I think is what happens to most threatening his kids with “not going to Iowa” if they did not educated, smart Republican politicians. They have to dumb it support his candidacy. Is he so out of touch with reality that he down. They have to adhere to the Ronald Reagan role does not realize only politicians want to go to Iowa? model. The trouble is, they cannot imitate Ronald As I write these words, Jindal announced an investiReagan’s affability, his genuine simplicity, his lack of His gation into Planned Parenthood after a religious, antiintellectual depth. So they resort to stupid stateabortion organization accused it of “selling human ments to attract the base. The beneficiaries of campaign body parts.” their extreme policies might be the one percent, slogan is: I wonder if Jindal realizes that no one believes him but they need the other ninety nine percent to when he opens his mouth and starts talking in that get elected. So they couch everything in the “Tanned. Rested. weird accent. Growing up with Indian parents, how language of religion and tradition, language Ready.” many second generation children speak that way? that the average Joe in Peoria will understand. It is not Jindal’s rejection of the hyphenated ethAnd they follow the Republican playbook, Does he really think nic identity that bothers me. In fact, that is one asone of the founding principles of which is to he is so white that pect of his personality that I could easily get behind; vilify and insult our current President. I do believe in being a global villager. What bothers Even so, the things Bobby Jindal has said he can actually me and possibly many other Indian-Americans is that and done recently should make us all feel emget tanned? he is not credible. His persona is completely fake. No barrassed and worried. one believes that he had a religious epiphany and conHe recently said, for example, that Obama verted to Christianity. People are convinced that he did it should get his tuition back from Harvard because for political expediency. “he learned nothing” there. Will the real Bobby Jindal please stand up? Will he quit being Moreover, standing on the White House grounds, he dea caricature of a politician and start being himself? Will he realize clared that “Obama was not fit to be Commander in Chief.” that people are tired of inauthenticity in politics and that they He signed into law Louisiana’s Science Education Act, want politicians to be genuine? which enables the state’s schools to teach creationism. This, in In this election season, when Bernie Sanders is drawing large spite of the fact that Jindal has an honor’s degree in biology. crowds at campaign events simply because he speaks his mind, He believes that hurricanes and tornadoes are caused by sins will Bobby Jindal stop mouthing hackneyed GOP slogans? like homosexuality. At least that is what a brochure circulated Or should we give him a dose of his own medicine and ask at a prayer rally organized by him implies. “We have watched him to surrender his diploma from Brown University as well as sin escalate to a proportion the nation has never seen before,” the money for his Rhodes Scholarship for being too stupid to the pamphlet says. “We live in the first generation in which … have deserved either one? n homosexuality has been embraced…While the United States still claims to be a nation ‘under God’ it is obvious that we have greatly strayed from our foundations in Christianity. This year Sarita Sarvate (www.saritasarvate.com) has pubwe have seen a dramatic increase in tornadoes that have taken lished commentaries for New America Media, the lives of many … and let us not forget that we are only six KQED FM, San Jose Mercury News, the Oakland years from the tragic events of Hurricane Katrina …” Tribune, and many nationwide publications. Hours after the Louisiana legislature killed a bill that would 56 | INDIA CURRENTS | Southern California | August 2015



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