India was lots of fun, full of lots of family, food, shopping, arts, a surprise wedding of my cousin, heat, and dust. The latter two really got to me in the last three weeks, with many distasteful manifestations in my nose, throat, and skin. Luckily, my uncle hooked up an appointment with a really swell skin specialist who prescribed this miracle cream to cure the latter ill. I think my nose and throat will mend themselves over time, since I'm now away from the outsourced pollution.

Random observations, speculations, and recommendations (which might eventually be culled into a more coherent article...) --

-You can find pretty much anything within a few feet of wherever you are in Mumbai, Delhi, or the big cities of Kerala. While sitting in traffic, I've been approached at the window with offers for novels, memory sticks, garlands, toys, nuts, and more. There are dozens of tiny shops lining every street, and dozens of informal stands set up with the most random merchandise. Services are ample from tailors to mechanics to doctors (allopathic and ayurvedic) and ridiculously affordable for anyone traveling from the west.

- Since the last time I was in Mumbai in 1997, I noticed a remarkable increase in women walking on the street -- and the average age is younger, and mode of dress far less conservative than it was then, though still utterly prude by American standards. Still, I didn't really feel unsafe in Mumbai at all; the male gaze was no worse than San Francisco. Delhi is notorious for being leering, but I only found it a little worse than Mumbai. Maybe I wasn't there long enough, or I was in the touristy areas at night.

- I thought our War on Terror was extreme, but Mumbai takes it to new levels. There are metal detectors placed ahead of every shopping mall, movie theater, and temple, and billboards and public service announcements to make "Mumbai Unbreakable." One temple in Kerala which has always required men to wear dhotis but used to allow them to wear them over pants and/or with shirts now only lets them wear a dhoti. (Uh, so much for "modesty" being a gender-neutral cultural concept.)

- People do not believe in leaving space in line!! You have to be all up in the booty of the person in front of you, or someone will surely cut, possibly from a sincere mistake about whether you meant to be in line, given your curiously considerate behavior.

- Probably the most useful Hindi phrase during travel to Hindi-speaking regions: "Nahi chahiye." (= "I don't want [it/them/these/those, etc.]") The street hawkers in all big cities I've been to, and the tour guides, particularly in Delhi, will be all over you trying to persuade you to buy their good or service. Just say this phrase loudly and clearly a few times and your work should be done (assuming you don't want their shit).

- Big temples leave you with a very poor taste in your mouth, incredibly dirty feet, and maybe a few bruises. Seriously, I fucking hate over-zealous temple-going motherfuckers who push, shove, and bribe to get in their worship. Temples are veritable marketplaces, with dozens of people swarming you to buy puja thalis, murtis, mithai, and random crap, or saying you can pay them 300 rupees to get to the front of the line. WTF? I mean, I can't blame the people offering up these goods and services because they're poor and they need money, and when have I ever otherwise been offended by blasphemy -- this would be a good place for it, on the contrary -- but I just can't stand being surrounded by earnestly pious twits.

- Arranged marriage is so weird to me. Maybe it shouldn't be, because my parents have had a successful one, and it has been quite common among the rest of my relatives and in my culture generally -- but the fact that I could never see myself emotionally and physically committing myself to someone just because he meets a certain community-authored checklist makes me further adamant in questioning any dominant paradigm of sexuality and relationships in any cultural context. I find the same problem of self-denial in arranged marriage that I find in heteronormativity or puritanism, and these are so inextricably linked. We need a personal as well as societal sexual revolution in order to acknowledge and affirm any desires or unions that fall outside the purview of heterosexual marriage.

- Somehow, the Punjabi food in India didn't seem that different to me than the Indian food that's available here. Of course, here (East Bay/SF at least) you don't really get Gomantak cuisine and Gujarati thalis and all that, and here the selection of the Punjabi fare is pretty limited and predictable, but the quality and taste is pretty comparable.

- Good places to eat in Mumbai include some really bomb hole-in-the-walls that actually didn't give any of us any stomach problems: Gypsy Corner (Maharashtrian snacks and pizza) in Dadar, Highway Gomantak (Goan cuisine) in Mahim, Gujarati Thali in Worli; and also some trendy, more upscale-ish spots like Olive (Mediterranean) in Bandra, Karma (Italian, Chinese, Indian) at Opera House, Bombay Blue (Chinese, Indian, Italian, Mexican) in Bandra, and Oven Fresh (Chinese, Indian, Italian, Mexican) in Dadar. My mom is the only one who got an upset stomach, and after which restaurant, but the five-star Taj Mahal Intercontinental. Oof!

The Many "Cinematic Adjustments" of Umrao Jaan

If the earlier cinematic adaptation of Umrao Jan Ada compromised the actual depth of the novel according to this review, the new one obliterates it altogether.

The director really seems to have a flair for fucking up a poignant, feminist (yes, it is feminist, and a 19th-century Urdu male novelist wrote it) message and turning it on its head to fixate obsessively on redeeming the whore by making her have no desire for emotional or financial independence, crave for her emotions and sexuality to be caged and confined by one man, forgive her unremorseful rapist, and at the end of the movie give a present to dude that sold her into a brothel at the beginning of the movie. The latter gesture might make you think she has reconciled something in her perspective to break free of shackles once and for all -- of society, of the brothel, of her unsupportive family, of the mental agony from the many men who have screwed her over -- but think again; it's Ash. She is a complete victim to the end, never finding any place in the narrative for growth or empowerment. To top that, they kept playing a song with the refrain "Agle janam mohe bitiya na dije" = "In my next life don't give me a daughter."

Congratulations, J.P. Dutta, for taking a brilliantly rich commentary on the contrived and inherently oppressive dichotomy between a "respectable woman" and a "whore," and turning it into a four-hour public service announcement for sex selection.

A terrible movie. Two middle fingers up.

Domestic Violence Awareness Month - Let's Start Droppin' Some Knowledge

You know, I hate doing South Asian domestic violence trainings for a crowd of people from non-immigrant backgrounds, because no matter how many disclaimers you put up saying, "Family violence is not the norm in the culture, but we are explaining some dynamics that can help inform the situation when it does occur," most of them come out saying, "Yeah, that culture's pretty fucked up." And then they describe functional, non-violent South Asian families, and strong South Asian women, as "westernized."

I suppose that's better than those who say, in the name of "liberalism," "That culture imposes such-and-such restrictions on women and punishes those who don't conform, but we should leave them alone because otherwise we'd be imposing our western values on them." (Big ups to S.P. for her paper on this issue.)

Here is the correct way to think about it. Within every culture and religious tradition, there are patriarchal turds who try to control the discourse and dictate what comprises the "culture." They try to freeze and essentialize gender roles -- in the most extreme instances, declaring that certain portions of whatever text justify domestic violence -- and declare homosexuality and divorce as alien to the culture. They try to say some people should have more rights than others, and then try to play it off like it's "different but equal." Find me any culture or major religion where there are not people who do this. And also find me any culture or religion where there are not people -- scholars, "backward caste" farmers, you name it -- who resist the patriarchal interpretation and recognize that culture is continuously evolving, and should evolve to allow dissenting voices.

It does get complicated in immigrant communities because you have the fact of a discrete and insular ethnic community thrown into the mix. A community that does face racism and tries to present itself well and save face by not addressing certain issues. A community that is trying to retain a sense of culture and is wary of intrusion on its practices. Those concerns, coupled with the eagerness of people outside the community to associate the culture itself with its most unhealthy manifestations, illuminates the need for a major wake-up call to all parties -- if the cultural leaders really do want what's best for all their constituents, and mainstream feminists really do want what's best for all women, without patronizing or insulting their cultures.

Patriarchy is fucked up. Racism is fucked up. Cultural or anti-racist justifications for misogyny or homophobia are fucked up. People who use culture or religion as a cloak to oppress other people are fucked up. And that is the end of the fucking story. Don't go around calling me "westernized" (comically, a compliment coming from many white feminists, and an insult coming from South Asian patriarchal traditionalists) just because I reject ass-backward red state, Hindutva, and other fundamentalist values.

dear snidely remarking aunty,

Just because I've been going to the gym, don't start recommending low-fat and non-fat garbage for me to eat, especially when I'm happily and guiltlessly scarfing down shitloads of barfi and fried food right in front of you as you pretentiously deprive yourself of the same. Do not ASSume that I am a corporate-globalization-brainwashed dipshit vying to be the next size-negative-four, bleached-faced Miss India. I am just trying to be reasonably healthy and have an average body fat percentage. To that effect, I believe in adding healthy and productive items to my behavioral itinerary (more water, more fruit/vegetables, more exercise), but not eliminating any pleasurable ones; if, as a consequence of adding some of the healthy, I have less time/room for the unhealthy and a redistribution naturally occurs, then so be it, but I COME DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO GETTING VIOLENT UPON THE SUGGESTION OF CURTAILING MY GLUTTONY IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM.

There should be a rag retreat, where you just hulk with a bunch of sweets, get a massage, and ovulate. If this society is going to define us by our reproductive capabilities, we should get at least that much for them.

Tonight I attempted rollerskating with Don, Hrrang, and Chickon, after about fifteen years. What a workout! Mostly for my right arm, having clutched the railing for the first half hour. I never was able to glide properly. Goddamn, I'm bloody almost 26 years old and all these little rascals are so much better than me. Next time, Hrrang, Chickon, and I plan to film a documentary where we show ourselves skating and then highlight various babies' thoughts and reactions to our ineptitude.

All moved back!

I'm officially back in the East Bay, with stacks of garbage bags in my bedroom and the garage to prove it (that's how I pack). I didn't do a very good job of cleaning, but hopefully I'll get some of my deposit back. I had meant to clean and even started to -- really! -- but then I accidentally vacuumed a penny and all hell broke loose. Since the vacuum started roaring furiously and emitting foul smells, I resolved to abandon that task, and then thought there was no point in doing anything else either. I'm very logical that way.

Before the Bar, I was weirdly sad to be leaving Davis, but now I am SO over it. I'm fucking done with law school, with an 11 x 17 inch diploma to prove it. Now it's on to bigger and better things, like lazing around in front of the TV for three and a half months, at which time I will head off to India!

No, I do need to find some sort of temp work though. That private loan I rather unnecessarily took out is really going to screw me up the ass, come December.