There seems to be a strong nationalistic sentiment amongst many of you, often accompanied by a fear that India is being subsumed by Western culture. Slumdog Millionaire, some insist, won international accolades only because it was a movie made by a Western director, from a white man’s perspective. The Pink Chaddi movement is a symbol of the contamination of Indian culture by Western modernization. Perhaps there is some truth to these claims, but if so then we have only ourselves to blame. We are the ones who continue to worship white skin.

I grew up in a small town in Oklahoma, at a time when racism was still openly expressed in the “heartland” of the United States. From preschool through high school, I was the victim of racial persecution in varying degrees, and from many sources (teachers, coaches, dance instructors, white kids, black kids, and even red kids). I was brown and nerdy, and the oldest daughter of a relatively wealthy, conservative, immigrant household, giving almost any native of this barren Bible Belt town plenty of fodder for derision. But as I began to establish my identity in the community, I felt most of the explicit racism slowly melt away. The white people began to accept me, and even respect me for my differences. By the end of high school, I was considered beautiful by many of my peers, and I was even nominated as a Football Homecoming candidate my senior year (this is essentially a school-sanctioned popularity contest; the other two candidates were white girls, and a white girl won). That year, I was also voted “Most Likely to Succeed” and “Prettiest Smile” by my classmates. I had crossed racial barriers and proven my worth as a brown girl in the white man’s world.

Since high school, I have felt quite comfortable assimilating into white communities and have made friends of all skin tones with whom I share a very natural, unprejudiced kinship. Yet there are certain times when I still feel that my beauty is under-appreciated because of my dark skin — when I am around Indians. I am always a bit taken aback when I see a commercial for Fair and Lovely, or when an auntie advises me to avoid the sun. As the rest of the world chases the exotic beauty of dark skin, Indians continue to  treat fair skin as the epitome of female beauty. Why?

This obsession with light skin is a relic from a time when light skin meant that you were wealthy, because you didn’t have to work outside all day in the sun. And I’m sure this bias was reinforced by the British occupation. The relationship between light skin and wealth continues to be unnaturally propagated in India today, because rich people still prefer to marry light. And so this baseless obsession feeds on itself. But this archaic distinction makes no sense in the modern economy, where a nice tan is likely to suggest that you have the leisure to go on beach vacations rather than wasting away all day in a cubicle under glaring fluorescent lights. I think it’s preposterous, and somewhat scary, that we are still brainwashed by these backwards notions of beauty.

Dark skin is beautiful. I hope we can start to see our own beauty, because we will never ascend to greatness until we embrace ourselves.

It is difficult to respond with calmness and dignity to comments that unjustly attack one’s moral character, support oppression and violence and are generally inane and baseless. It is disheartening to read these sorts of comments, as it shows how far we have yet to go. We are indeed two Indias, and the repressive India seems to be the larger. Perhaps blogging on these topics is pointless, as many of you have said to me, but I still feel that I must try. If even I cannot sustain the heart and courage to fight back, then who will?

So, let me respond, point by point, to the major themes of the verbal attacks directed towards me in my previous post:

[DISCLAIMER:  To those of you who do not agree with drinking but gave graciously tolerant remarks in support of women's rights, this response is not at all directed towards you. I appreciate your tolerance and respect your views.]

ATTACK 1: I am not fit to be an Indian woman

This line of attack smacks of the same mentality that drives Ram Sene to commit acts of violence against women. If a woman drinks, she is considered a whore. No questions asked. Doesn’t matter what the men are doing, of course, because men can do whatever the hell they want. But women must uphold our backwards ideals of chasteness and purity. And these archaic ideals of purity are tied to religion, so that is ALL the justification we need. And, in the name of RELIGION? Well, we can do whatever we god damn please. We can even kill women who dare to be unchaste and drink a beer with the boys…sound familiar to you? Sounds a lot like religious terrorism to me.

When I said I don’t have shame drinking in front of my aunts and uncles, it is because I do not think it is fair that my uncles are allowed to drink, but my aunts are not. Why should I feel shame for demanding gender equality? I do not. If my husband drinks, I drink. If I do not drink, he does not drink either.

ATTACK 2: I am harming my body and brain by drinking

Of course no one bothered to ask how often / much do I drink.  People just assumed that if I drink I must be abusing alcohol like a dirty old man who gets drunk every night and comes home and beats his wife. For your information, I drink very moderately and quite infrequently (much less than the recommended amount of one glass per day).

Maybe you haven’t heard the news, but studies have repeatedly shown that drinking moderate amounts of alcohol is GOOD for your health. So, sorry to disappoint, but the ‘not good for you’ argument is just plain wrong.

Note that I haven’t said to you, “you are harming your health by not drinking, so please start drinking.”

ATTACK 3: Women should not dress provocatively, because it will incite men’s animal instincts

How many of the people who made this comment have seen a Bollywood movie in the past year? My guess is the answer is 100%. When you watch Priyanka bounce around in a tight dress, do you not feel your so-called animal instincts being stimulated? If you don’t, then you certainly wouldn’t be stimulated by me doing the same thing, because I am not more attractive than she. And, if you do, then why do you voluntarily go watch her? No one is forcing you. Or, is it Priyanka’s fault for doing it? Yes, that must be it. Priyanka is a manipulative whore who forces all Indian men to be “stimulated” against their will.

You might be wondering why, if I myself dress like Priyanka, did I make my post about Bollywood Porn below? The reason is that I think Bollywood is an outgrowth of our sexual repression. Men like you will excoriate me for wearing a revealing dress, but will go in hoards to watch Priyanka do it. Moreover, many of you won’t appreciate a movie that does not showcase a well-endowed woman bouncing around half-naked (see comments to my post about Slumdog). Bollywood has become pornographic because there is DEMAND for it. It is the hypocracy that bothers me, not Priyanka’s dress.

Note that only a small fraction of Hollywood movies have the same level of soft porn that 99% of Bollywood movies do. Why? I thought American culture is profligate and Indian culture is chaste…

ATTACK 4: Drinking and sex are not Indian

Read, my friends. Read the tales from our ancient texts. You are deluding yourselves. Sex is CELEBRATED in our traditions. I pity the repressed fools who think sex is not Indian. You will also find references to Ram and Sita drinking wine together (before having sex). And, as one of our more astute commentors, Nadeem Khan, noted:

“Can you tell me how many Ram Sena and other Sena group members don’t drink alcohol. My dear, do you know the percentage of consumption of alcohol in Indian Army and other departments? Grow up.. stop behaving as kid.
To respect elders there is no specific dress code, we can respect elders in wearing jeans/shorts and as well as in wearing shalwar kurta.
Personally I am in favor of preserving culture and against drinking BUT I can’t dictate anyone.”

Btw, did you know that pornography is one of the largest sources of Internet revenue in India? I’m sure many of you know that from personal experience…

ATTACK 5: Pink Chaddis are vulgar

You mean, pink chaddis make you feel uncomfortable? Yes, that’s because you are sexually repressed. And I’m sure Ms. Nisha took that into account when she planned her ingenious protest. Making an oppressor feel uncomfortable is the point of a peaceful protest.

ATTACK 6: I must be a Muslim in disguise

This is actually an older attack in response to my call for unity. I am assuming by now you are all sufficiently convinced that I do not have any hidden religious agendas, as I do not imagine any Muslim fundamentalist would advocate a woman drinking and going to pubs (please correct me if I am wrong, and I will be happy to provide further proof of my secularism).

p.s. for those who were wondering, the picture of the white chaddis with pink polka dots is not me. it’s a Victoria’s Secret model.

Congrats to Slumdog Millionaire for winning 8 Oscars! And a special congrats to A.R. Rehman for his 2 Oscars. Wow!!! I wonder how the naysayers will change their tune now…

Btw, here is an interesting article that was published in the New York Times just before the Oscars, which asks three famous Indians their opinion of the controversy:  http://roomfordebate.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/02/20/the-real-roots-of-the-slumdog-protests/?scp=6&sq=slumdog%20millionaire&st=cse

About the photo: The friends and neighbors of “Slumdog Millionaire” child actor Mohammed Azharuddin Ismail cheer while watching the Oscars award ceremony on television outside his shanty, in Mumbai, India.

For years, every Bollywood film has been a variation on the same, tired old theme:  hot girl and charming guy, while dancing fall in love, their love is threatened by: parents / another lover / accident / disease / magic, more dancing , fight scene / melodrama, charming guy saves the day…and everyone lives happily ever after. Hundreds of movies are produced in India each year that follow this exact formula.

After nearly a century, someone has finally come into India and made a film with the type of grit and artistry that many of us have been craving to see in Indian form for years. And, not surprisingly, it took a white dude to make it happen. I am referring of course to Slumdog Millionaire, which was nominated last week for 10 Oscars and has the international film community abuzz.

The question is, why did it take a foreigner to make a proper Bollywood film?

Many Indians are embracing Slumdog with hesitation, or perhaps not at all, because of its stark portrayal of poverty and corruption in India. It lacks, they say, the fantasy, hope and beauty that we have all become accustomed to as Bollywood fans, and instead focuses on the harsh realities we seek to ignore. There has even been a controversy over Amitabh Bachchan’s biting remarks about the film’s popularity and speculation over his bruised ego. Big B wrote recently about the film:

“If SM projects India as Third World dirty underbelly developing nation and causes pain and disgust among nationalists and patriots, let it be known that a murky underbelly exists and thrives even in the most developed nations. It’s just that the SM idea authored by an Indian and conceived and cinematically put together by a Westerner, gets creative Globe recognition. The other would perhaps not.”

Wake up Big B! There have been myriad movies made about the ‘underbelly’ of Western societies. In fact, the rest of the world has been making gritty films for years. It’s just that India has been addicted to its decades-old formula and hasn’t noticed. Big B’s remark, in my opinion, is quite naive and completely misses the beauty of this film.

I – and everyone I know that’s seen it – think Slumdog rates amongst the best films of the year. I walked out of the theater with a greater satisfaction than after most of my recent Bollywood watching episodes, thankful that someone had finally come along and modernized Bollywood. Not with nude women booty-shaking to club beats. No. This was modernization in a deeper sense — one that took the art of Indian film making to a higher level.

All the essential Bollywood elements are there in full tact: cute boy and girl, unrequited love, trials and tribulations, fights, an underlying sense of hope…and even a dance thrown in for good measure.

Yet Director Danny Boyle takes this basic formula and transforms it into a moving depiction of the hardships faced by an oft ignored people in India, with the sort of realism that truly brings a fictional story to life. And even in these hardships, there was ample beauty to be found — the brilliant colors of the Mumbai landfills, the sacred bonds of brotherhood, the sensuality of a young dancer, and the undying pursuit of the hopeless romantic for his only love. All this woven into an engaging, tight-knit story.

I hope this marks the beginning of a new era in Bollywood, and many more Oscars to come.

It’s no secret to anyone that Bollywood has become increasingly liberal with its sex scenes and dress codes over the past decade. Long gone are the days of the subtle fade-away over young lovers closing in for an affectionate nuzzle. Yesterday’s wet-sari dances have been replaced by today’s skimpy bikini-trots, or even full-on sex scenes.

We youth should be celebrating this epic change – a herald of India’s sexual liberation. While it is an obvious boon to the young men who love watching Bollywood hotties, it is perhaps the women who should be celebrating most. Women are now free to frolic around nearly naked on screen, groping and booty-shakin’ as they please. After centuries of oppressive limitations on what to wear, how to act in public, and how to speak with the opposite sex — Indian women are finally free.

But, is all this pornographic content really liberating Indian women? Do you feel empowered when you – and your boyfriend – watch Mallika having an orgasm (or is that something else you’re feeling?)

In our enthusiasm to embrace the Western ideals of free-falling breasts and jiggling butt-cheeks, I can’t help but feel that we’ve missed something important regarding women’s liberation…

At least in my mind, Sri Devi commanded more respect in that sultry sari than Mallika does in her biker-babe booty shorts.