One Indian Woman's Wish List

New Year, new wishes. All moms dream of things that would make life easier ("A robot that cooks and cleans...and breast-feeds"). Here, some of my wishes, specific to being an Indian mom. Somebody please look into these--many would be a post-it-note "why didn't I think of that!" moment I am sure...!

Beyond "Identity" Fiction

We get it. We, as Indians, sometimes feel torn between the east and the west. If we were born here, we are intrinsically "American" but, at the same time, we have values rooted in a decidedly un-American heritage. Thank you to all the literary trail-blazers who put "identity" fiction--and literature about South Asians in general--on the map. But let's get on with it already. How many times do we want to read about one foot in New York and one in Delhi? Eighteen times pretty much sufficed. Onward and upwards, let's see what else the glorious Indian women who roam the pages of fiction can do.

Netflix for Indian Clothes

I have learned the rules but they still don't make sense. That $1000 lengha? With the hand-done embroidery and gold spun by hand? You should wear it once and carry around a spotlight so everyone can see how gorgeous it is...but then you can never be caught dead in it again. Okay. I'll play by the rules. But why not let friends reap the rewards of that spun-gold and Swarovki glory. Or forget my friends, let a stranger wear it, why does it have to hang in sad confinement in my closet (read: lay in a sad pile under my bed). Somebody has got to get on this. Bindi Borrow or Steal. Or something.

A Turmeric-Sensitive Cleaner

Members of my family believe that turmeric is a magical panacea. When my kids are coughing up lungs and their noses are perpetually leaking, I would try voodoo so turmeric is completely fine with me. But it is a disater on my home. The faint yellow residue has left impressions on high chairs and fabric long after the colds have passed. There's got to be something to get this out and even my magical Folex has failed me.

While we're at it: How about something to get that "I just came back from india" smell out of your clothes. Don't even tell me you don't know what I mean. Febreeze doesn't cut it, it just makes it seem like you were hugged by an Indian airport that had a Febreeze free sample kiosk.

Luxe Lipsticks for Brown Ladies

I have found foundations, blushes, skincare and eye makeup that I think looks great on Indian women but, for some reason, most lipsticks still manage to make me look like a clown. It's not that hard is it? Listen up Chanel: We have money to spend (sometimes): Give us a reason to.

A Short Primer On Important Traditions


I need to be able to sift through which traditions are really important to my extended family and which ones are really just filler on the calendar. I am a mutt--half Gujarati, half South Indian--and my husband is Punjabi. In terms of tradition and culture, we may as well be from different countries, it seems at times. I need some Cliffs notes. AND, I would LOVE to know what the ritual and pomp and circumstance surrounding the many traditions I've never heard of actually mean. I am still trying to get to the bottom of the significance of the strainer at karva chauth. And are we allowed to steal shoes at all auspicious occasions? And is eating panjiri THAT important?? I wish the people behind these books would get on this.

More South Indian restaurants

Just saying the word "dosa" makes my mouth water. There's more to Indian cuisine than Tandoori chicken and yet, many people have no idea.

"Petticoats" that don't suck. And lenghas that don't attack you.

I have war-wounds from some of the Indian garb I have worn. Cat-claw-like scratches under my arms from bronze adornment on lengha blouses. Near-rug-burn on my waist from "petticoats" that need to be "so tight they hurt--if it doesn't hurt it isn't tight enough." And the "petticoats" (love writing such a silly word!) are often of this horrible synthetic, satiny material that feels horrible against my skin. I'm thinking it doesn't have to be like this. Somebody please show me the way.

Non-cheesy Indian-inspirted housewares

I don't need Ganesha on my plates and I would prefer not to have Lord Shiva on my accent pillows. But it would be great to be able to showcase Indian art in my home. We keep hearing about how thriving the Indian art scene is but it remains difficult to gain access to it from here. I would much rather throw some money at a modern Indian art emporium than Design Within Reach--if I knew how.

Got Any Indian-Inspired Wishes on Your Wish-List?

Monday Musings: Can You Go Home Again?

"Home sweet home." "Home is where the heart is." " Life's a voyage that's homeward bound." What is home? Where you live at a this very second? Where you were born? The country your parents came from? Thomas Wolfe famously proclaimed that "you can't go home again," but Anand Giridharadas might disagree. In yesterday's New York Times, Giridharadas wrote about the phenomenon of second generation Indians moving to India--back to the place forsaken by their parents. The article explains the motivations of this new migration--the opportunities that India's "new economy" presents, the "post-American" world, the large-scale problems America currently faces--but underlying the article is an apologia of sorts to Giridharadas' parents, an acknowledgment of the irony of their sacrifice when, in the end, the author ends up returning to their homeland.

Giridharadas' story seems similar to lots of ours. His parents came to this country to give him opportunity. They lived the sometimes exhilarating and often lonely immigrant life that so many of us have heard tales about--first trips to the mall, our moms learning to drive. They excelled. They took their Indian-clothes-eschewing children to India every few years to visit family. As Giridharadas says: "It was extraordinary, and ordinary."

And it of course makes me think about my own life, my own kids. Only after I had children did I have any pure, articulated desire to make sure they knew "where they came from." Think about all the posts on this blog thus far about making sure our little ones are exposed to "Indian culture"--what does that really mean, as much as it indicates our desire to show our children where they came from? And yet. What would it feel like if, some fifteen years down the road, my children tell me they wanted to move to India. That they need to learn more about where they come from. That they think it would afford them a better life. I can't even imagine.

First I think of the comedy my children as "immigrants" brings to mind. Would they store favorite American foods in Indian yogurt tins (I cannot even recognize some of the stuff in my freezer, currently stored in Dannon plastic containers--mom please come dissect)? How would they respond to the rhetorical "isn't it" and the head nod "no" that means "yes"? Would they open up the phonebook (or the internet) and call up people who shared their last name, as my mother-in-law did when she moved to this country? Would they smile broadly at Americans on the street that they didn't know?

Then I think about that fact that, in this scenario, my kids would end up "more Indian" than their mother. At this point in my hypothetical head-trip, it would be third generation Indians returning to India and, in a way, it would amount to a brand new frontier of embracing Indian culture. And we can't even imagine what this culture is going to be yet. It seems like we are at some sort of pivotal juncture of Indian culture in which--forgive the hyperbole--the motherland is poised to take over the world. Giridharadas' article wasn't in the Styles section (A section of the Times that I love, don't get me wrong) or buried as a feature--it was on the cover of the Week in Review. Slumdog Millionaire is getting buzz as a possible best picture nominee. The brain drain is being reversed, jobs are moving to India, Indian artists and writers are returning to Mumbai while keeping pied-a-terres in New York, and didn't Reliance essentially buy Steven Spielberg recently? Something's going on. Obviously we can't forecast culture or world dominance by a snap-shot of time, but is it just me or is India everywhere right now? Maybe by the time our kids are deciding where to live, moving to India won't be "going home" as much as it will be travelling to the epicenter of something, much like many of us felt when we left the cities we were born in for New York, Chicago, San Francisco?

Who knows, right? Can't wait to see.

My Blue-Eyed Girl?

Smart. Brown Eyes. Tall, dark and handsome. Did you ever have a list like this for the guy you were hoping to land, marry, make a life with together?

What if the list were: High IQ. Green eyes. Fair skin. Is that in any way worse?

Now, what if you want these characteristics in a child? Is it wrong to look for them in a mate if you know you would like to see them in your kid?

And, if for some reason you find your dream mate, decide to have kids and can't, resort to in vitro fertilization: Would it be wrong to CHOOSE these characteristics for your baby-to-be?

According to this article, more and more Devis and their spouses in India are hitting up Indian sperm banks and egg-donor facilities in search of children who have (1) light skin; (2) green or blue eyes; (3) light hair; and (4) high IQs. To meet the growing demand for these traits, fertility clinics in India are importing sperm and eggs from all races, all over the world. India is turning into a genetic laboratory.

Obviously IVF and doomsday prophesies about "engineering" children are not new issues, but something about this article--focusing on the increasing popularity of the practice in India, and the large-scale search for "desirable" sperm and eggs in the U.S. to import--hit closer to home than it has before. We've talked about the ingrained notion many of our moms have that "fair" equals "lovely" before, so that didn't surprise me so much (though it never stops being bizarre to me.) But green eyes? Light hair? Why? And what does it mean that these couples in India want these supposedly "superior" children who will look nothing like them?

On the flip side, if you are in the surreal situation in which you have the ability to order traits of your kids, as if items on a menu, why wouldn't you choose "high IQ" over "low IQ," "tall" over "short"?

How do you think a growing number of "less-Indian-looking" babies in India will affect our little Indian babies here at home?

Thoughts Devis?

Going back to Delhi... I don't think so

Years from now, my daughter may ask me, “Mommy, where were you during the economic crash of ‘08?” It’s a very possible question, with the weekend’s news of the end of Lehman Bros. and Merrill Lynch, and the possible near-future collapse of A.I.G. Reading the pages of the New York Times, it really does feel to me as if the world as we know it is about to end. Everyone is saying it’s really bad this time, things are going to change, America is going down. But then again, maybe it feels particularly bad to me because this is the first major economic downturn I’ve experienced with any financial responsibilities. Back in the relatively minor downturn of 2001, I was just getting married, no property in my name or major debt on my balance sheet.

Of course, the old adage applies: Kids change everything. It was a kid that made us think of buying a house, so that she could have a “real home” to grow up in. A kid makes us think of socking away money so that private school is an option if the local schools don’t work out. A kid makes me want to have enough to give her everything I had the privilege of having, and then some. And a kid would make me think of altering my life considerably – selling my house, moving to a different country where there is more opportunity – so that hers can be better.

Is this is going to happen? Is the situation going to get so dire in America that we’ll have to leave? I don’t think so . But I don’t think my dad thought he’d leave India either in his youth. Things happen, and you have to be ready. My husband and I have a little joke that, if it gets really bad here, we’ll just move to India, which is poised to be one of the next superpowers. How ironic would it be if, 40 or 50 years after my family migrated to this country, we migrated back? It’s almost like a Bollywood movie! But you never know, do you.

Better go brush up on my Hindi.