'The Namesake' lives up to its name

Written by the prolific Jumpha Lahiri, directed by the incomparable Mira Nair, starring arguably the best Indian actress of the era, it would be hard to imagine The Namesake to be anything less than spectacular. And spectacular it is, in part because it paints a realistic picture of Indians living in America, who are constantly torn between conforming to lofty Indian ideals in the earnest hope that their roots are not forgotten and trying to blur those very lines that delineate them from others.

With ample help from the clear-thinking Jumpha Lahiri the movie explores the trials of an Indian kid growing up in the US, while also articulating the hardships of first generation Indian parents who, while not entirely on board with their children’s dating habits or lifestyles, manage to endure it to merely the extent needed to keep their own peace of mind and their children just short of insane.

Tabu does an excellent job in the role of a conservative yet progressive, well-learned Indian woman who hurts from her son’s seemingly scant regard for family affairs, but is also extremely touched when he delivers at the right time. Kal Penn, for his part, is spot on in his portrayal of a youngster drawn by the glamor of the American lifestyle. The movie sees him grow from a self-indulgent college kid lounging in his girlfriend’s affluent family home in Oyster Bay to a responsible young man when he suddenly finds himself thrown into a situation that demands it.

The Namesake does away with the rosy-eyed unrealism of Mississippi Masala and the heart-wrenching bleakness of Monsoon Wedding, in exploring the trials and tribulations of every Indian wanting to live the American dream, and living it well.

After being assaulted with disasters like ABCD and American Desi, we finally have something that comes close to the American version of Bend it Like Bekham.

Tandoori flavored papadums?

My best pals in Philadelphia are unequivocally American, except that they know the subtle differences in flavor between chicken tikka and chicken 65, often manage to surprise me with almost flawless enunciations of “mughlai” and unforeseen disclosures of very indigenous terms like kabuli channa – they are, of course, an exclusively northeastern breed – more global than most, well-traveled, cosmopolitan and as a result, very aware of the world across the Atlantic.

While it’s rewarding to hang out with people that can accompany you to a Brazilian meat-orgy (without premonitions of offending the Almighty) and the seedy Indian deli that serves delicious mutton biryani and enjoy them both the same, my biggest complaint is their unbelievable lack of introduction to southern Indian cuisine. And worse still, their belief that it cannot be that much different from fare that hails from the Northern part of the subcontinent.

“There’s a world of difference,” I often yell. “You wouldn’t know unless you have had it.”

“Well, I like dosa,” my Canadian friend offers; I must admit that he is privy to the kind of clandestine information about the Indian palate you only get from extended stays in tandoori-rich London. In this instance, however, I have to point out the oversight.

After I explain to him that Udipi's crispy, larger-than-life sheet of rice and lentils is hardly a south Indian staple, he is subject to elaborate instruction on the topic of Southern Indian spices and seasonings. A consensus on tamarind and lentils is reached, following which, everyone agrees they must find the staples just as delectable.

Since I am hardly the authority on South Indian cooking, treating them to culinary delights from my hometown is not an option. Same reason why, I often make an SOS trip to Whole Foods to avail of surprisingly good “sambhar from a can.”

But even the thought of tamarind-laced lentils soaking up aromatic basmati rice is not enough to quell the sheer horror that engulfs me when this item peers smugly from one of the store’s lofty aisles:

Tandoori flavored papadums

Tandoori is a curry flavor used exclusively in northern India and a papadum is batter from fermented lentils fried to a delicious crispness to complement south Indian rice dishes. The two flavors can never ever be put together in a single dish, without disastrous consequences to the unsuspecting palate. Think fish and cheese.

It’s the Indian Way!

A couple days ago, I got a call from an old pal in India I went to college with. It was great to hear from her, catching up, reminiscing et al, but what made me see red was her request (analyzing the wording closely, some may call it a demand, but then again, she earned that right when we went through five years of college together, some good, some not so good): her sister was visiting the States for a month as part of a work thing and I was expected to visit and engage her over every weekend during her stay.

Let alone the fact that I live about 3 hours by train from the part of Jersey that she intends to visit, I am so content with my little town-city that I haven’t made a trip seeking entertainment or culture in the past three months. It would be too much trouble to make a trip to entertain someone I know by association to someone I probably don’t relate to anymore.

After I hung up the phone, I tried to look at things from her perspective. It's true that I work full time at a far-from-leisurely Cardiology Department and go to school in the evenings for a Masters program. Other than a stress-relieving (and totally mandatory) binge-drinking trip on Friday nights and the occasional movie or dinner on Saturday, I pretty much have very little time to relax. As does almost anyone worth his or her salt in the United States (yet people somehow always manage to say hello or open a door for a stranger, which amazes me). But folks in India wouldn’t necessarily get that.

In a land where one half of the average day is spent hosting unannounced guests and attending to phones that ring constantly and the other half in elaborate meal preparations, 6 hours on a train for four weekends in a row for small-talk is routine.

I love my home country and its ways but those ways don’t work here; in a world where people are too busy chasing dreams, chasing trains seems frivolous, unless you’re getting somewhere on them.

This reminds me of some very amusing situations
I found myself in, with my US-bred, 5-year old niece, when she was observing the ways of Indian life for the first time.

“Why does the phone always ring in India?”
“Why do people keep coming home?”
“Why do we have to keep going from one house to another?”
“Why do we go to so many temples?”
“Why does he bring milk to the house?”
“Why is the plumber sitting and drinking tea?”
“We could just stop at a Burger King, couldn’t we?”

Very profound questions these, and ones that cannot be answered without indulging in some very luxurious Indian living....

McCain – Too good to be president?

From this and years past, it’s hard to imagine the Senator from Arizona playing the machiavellian, wily slugfest that is winning the presidency.

Touting your arch rival for the Republican nomination more than a year before the election is not exactly what politicians today would call game plan for D-day (wouldn’t the world be a wonderful place if they did?)

Can McCain with his good will and urbane disposition take on what would most likely become an ugly brawl with America’s mayor? Going by their respective addresses at the ’04 RNC, it seems like Giuliani can kill an opponent with words alone (remember, he doesn’t need the guns!) but McCain is far too gracious even with his democratic colleagues. What’s more, he’s not known to repudiate when he’s villianized (think 2000).

And if his opponent for the primaries is tough, crime-fighting, relentless go-getter Giuliani, it seems like old John will have to give up his graces somewhere down the road to the nomination. But then again, isn’t that what people love about him – that polished language and bipartisan outlook – sticking up for buddy Kerry during the swift boat episode, standing by Bush even after W dragged him through the mud in ’00, hardly ever saying a dirty word about his opponents and yet sticking to his guns about the things he believes in?

Seems like it will be a tough pickle. And boy, will he need the juices.

Going by the polls

From time-blog, my latest internet must-stop, this is a scary prospect for the dems, cos if Obama should manage to clinch the nomination, he's a looooong shot to win the presidency (‘not black enough’ for African Americans, too black for the white conservatives and most importantly, VERY inexperienced).

The good news is that Giuliani is leading McCain on the GOP side. Wow, would that be a cool race…or a cool ticket, as the case may be…

A technology-challenged technology hub

A few days ago, I had to rummage through a stack of old documents to find a phone number for a university I used to attend – consolidating talk time, direction and re-direction to a million right and wrong people and sheer inefficiency, information that could have been retrieved in the dotcom world in less than thirty seconds (or to use computer lingo @ a million bps) took about an hour.

About 40% of Indians are in the Information Technology field and India enjoys more than 60% of the market share of outsourced technical services. You don’t usually have to walk more than a few blocks to find your resident geek squad in computer-oriented cities like Bangalore and Chennai. In such a technology oriented region, it’s ironical that one does not yet find information such as phone numbers and names through the google toolbar on one’s browser. Things that are best answered by the click of a button still take postal, telephonic, personal and sometimes even telepathic communication.

Most organizations and institutions do not have a functional website, if they do, they’re not frequently updated, if they are, they don’t get adequately used, when they do, they are painstakingly slow. Having been tuned to click on Riteaid.com’s store locator to find the phone number for the nearest drugstore and search my school’s directory for a professor’s contact, the click of a mouse is usually my first source of information, as it should be; it seems ridiculous to have to make a dozen calls or drive ten blocks in search of such counsel.

It’s not without change, however. There are some areas where the advancement surprises you: train tickets are booked online in no time (tickets are still shipped to you, though), minute cell phones unfold into ass-kicking modems during transit, 24/7 technical support whips up life saving answers in seconds…

I’d still like to be able to prop myself up in front of my computer in the middle of the night because I need to find an answer to a pressing question, or simply, because I can….

The season factor

While slumping forward and shutting my eyes in defiant disregard of the teacher in the 90 degree heat of an afternoon class, I’ve often envied the serene temperate climate from the very geography lesson I was listlessly disengaging from.

If the ruthless temperatures of the tropics affect your productivity mentally, there’s little doubt as to what they do to the physical: perpetually dodging unrelenting rays from that huge ball of fire, constant dehydration that keeps you reaching for iced water with no satiation in sight, endless beads of sweat that put huge boxes of Kleenex to shame. And if the heat itself won’t kill you, the bugs that thrive in it just might.

Needless to say, when I was transposed to the land of sub-zero winters (aka Mountain Zone, North America), I spent a long time acclimatizing, and even longer recanting my aversion to timeless Indian summers. But as the cycle went on, I made my peace with it. Extreme temperature of any form is bad, but it’s easier to get through the bone-chilling winter knowing that Spring is just round the corner and the sweltering summer knowing that Fall is going to come a-knocking. And if I’ve basked in the 80 degree heat of my native land the past two weeks, it’s only because I spent the last two months below zero.

The tropics have no such reprieve. The third world countries as they are called make up a huge section at or near the roasting equator: giving history due credit, I wonder if high temperatures without the respite of seasonal changes indeed have something to do with productivity (or lack thereof).