Cooking: The New Spectator Sport?

Did you guys catch the cover story of Sunday's New York Times magazine? (Yes: I am currently re-obsessed with everything NYTimes, thanks to all of you for pointing out as much in emails to me...!) Michael Pollen, the closest thing to a demi-god in the world of food (who penned one of my husband's favorite sentences: "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.") makes the case that "cooking" has become a sort of spectator activity to most of America and he concludes that this is a sad, sad shame.

The crux of the article is about the intersection of the growing popularity of watching t.v. shows about cooking (Food Network, Top Chef, etc.) with the corresponding phenom of all of us spending less time than ever actually making meals ourselves. It is pretty weird when you think about it and I could be the poster-child for the odd juxtaposition--I can tell you many, many things about the Top Chef contestants but not once did I watch an episode that informed the admittedly little I do in the kitchen.

According to Pollan, Americans today spend an average of 27 minutes a day on food preparation--less than half of what we spent in 1963. Pollan makes sure to do a tip of the hat to the idea that this might be a certain victory for feminism, but ultimately concludes that "cooking is far more important — to our happiness and to our health — than its current role in our lives..." Pollen may have a hidden pro-cooking agenda. You may get the subtle sense throughout the article that he thinks people who cook are "better" than those who do not. He may use gratuitious French phrases. But, end of the day, he does manage to cite a whole host of reasons----ranging from how cooking brings people together to how home-cooked meals are healtheir than their processed equivalents--to buttress his conclusion that we are going the "wrong" way in terms of our activity in the kitchen.

I have said time and time again that I use the kitchen as another space to online shop. The cheese happens to be closer than in the living room. But my husband loves to cook and we do spend quite a bit of time in the kitchen. And, if I am calculating properly, regardles of my lack of kitchen prowesse, the mere time I spend assembling the simple things I make for my kids puts me above the American average of time spent in the kitchen. But I cannot get over the fact that I hate to cook. That I think the advent of anything that makes cooking easier should be an automatic contender for some sort of National Prize. That I shudder at any article, philosophy, polemic-veiled-as-feature that propogates the idea that "we"--and make no mistake, the "we" here, regardless of my situation, is usually the women--need to cook more.

What do you think? What are your visceral reactions to "cooking"? I have noticed that, in my anecdotal sample, it seems to be the Indian women I know who cook more than the non-Indian ones. I also notice that it is some of these same women who actually do seem to genuinely love cooking. Do you find that to be the case and, if so, why is that so?

Do you think there is a "death of cooking" going on? Should there be?

I'm EATING this up...! Heh.

The Uniform Project

Have you heard about The Uniform Project? What do you think?

The brainchild of Sheena Mathieken, the Uniform Project has been getting all sorts of buzz lately, from the pages of the Times to the comments on Sepia Mutiny. The concept is simple: For one year, Mathieken will wear one of seven identical black dresses everyday (fancied up with various accessories) in order to raise awareness for Akansha Foundation, an educational non-profit. The controversy lies in what else the project entails. Mathieken says she is making an example of "sustainable fashion" by limiting her fashion choices. Naysayers say that, by loading on accessories and producing seven dresses, she is no posterchild for sustainability.

I think it's a cool fashion performance piece. Not sure about the spotlight on eco-fashion, though. Thoughts?

Forget the Pill, Turn on the TV?

According to this article from London, certain people in India are becoming proponents of a rather novel way to stop an impending population crisis:

Health and Family Welfare Minister Ghulam Nabi Azad has called the country to redouble its efforts to bring electricity to the rural population so these people can plug in TV sets and watch late-night soap operas rather than have sex.

"If there is electricity in every village then people will watch TV until late night and then fall asleep. They won't get a chance to produce children," Azad said. "When there is no electricity there is nothing else to do but produce babies." He added: "Don't think that I am saying this in a lighter vein. I am serious. TV will have a great impact. It's a great medium to tackle the problem ... 80 percent of population growth can be reduced through TV."

This just cracks me up. Most couples I know are resorting to scheduling, um, their "get-togethers" these days, in between children, jobs and whatnot. Maybe everyone--at least everyone here in the States--just needs to turn off the t.v. more...!

Born Into Brothels (NSFW)

I came upon these photos of Indian brothels on Ultrabrown and they have just etched themselves onto my brain. I don't really have much to say--the pictures speak for themselves-- but, is it just me, or do you immediately wonder whether these women are mothers? I don't think my mind would have gone there pre-kids. See all of the haunting photos here.

Padma Lakshmi: Jack of All Trades?

Padma Lakshmi is launching a new jewelry line, inspired by “seeds and pods, like cardamom, lentils, and cloves" as well as Lakshmi's "Indian heritage." Hope her baubles are better than her Top Chef hosting abilities. Wonder if Salman will be buying this stuff for future paramours.

Spirituality versus Religion

How cool was it to hear President Obama reference Hindus and non-believers in his inaugural remarks? You know how many Presidents have done that before? That's right: zero.

I don't consider myself religious but I'm not sure I consider myself a non-believer either. I consider myself "still figuring it out." Lots of moms I know struggle not only with how to introduce religion to their children but also whether they should in the first place. It's become almost cliched to explain "I consider myself spiritual but not necessarily religious"--something I have been guilty of saying, regardless of the fact that I try not to say the word "spiritual" as a rule, if only because it conjures up this crystal I insisted on wearing in the eighth grade. My parents strove to expose me and my sister to all the religions of the world--a sort of Encyclopedic approach to the topic--which is the way I thought I would like to raise my kids. Neither my husband nor I consider ourselves particularly "religious," and, amongst the myriad things I have on my "Let's Worry About This" list, the place of religion in my kids life has never made a cameo. However, this new study makes the case that your children will actually be happier if you raise them with some concepts of spirituality. And who doesn't want happy kids?

The interesting thing about the study is that it makes a clear distinction between "religious practices" (think: going to temple, praying, meditating) and "spirituality." Religious practices, the study says, are not predictors of "happier" children. Spirituality is.

I was dubious. (It's that word--"spirituality"--it just conjures up too many hackey-sack playing wannabe Robert Thurmans I have met). And I wasn't really won over by the finding that "the study shows that children who feel that their lives have meaning and value and who develop deep, quality relationships — both measures of spirituality, the researchers claim — are happier." Sounds like proving your point with a bunch of platitudes to me--who says that feelings of meaningfulness and deep relationships are indicators of spirituality? Aren't there myriad secular ways to show your children meaningfulness, and to foster deep relationships?

But this got me thinking:

"Enhancing personal meaning may be a key factor in the relation between spirituality and happiness," the researchers stated. Strategies aimed at increasing personal meaning in children — such as expressing kindness towards others and recording these acts of kindness, as well as acts of altruism and volunteering — may help to make children happier, Holder suggests."

Again, it seems conclusory to label such practices as "spiritual." Then again, if you think of "spiritualism" as some sort of moral compass--something that guides us in our never-ending quest to make our children good people--then the construct starts to work for me.

What do you think? Are you raising your children "religiously"? "Spiritually"? Do you think there is a difference?

(Thanks to Dhrumil and his rawness for showing me this study)

In Focus: Pooja Pittie, Little GuruSkool

There are so many amazing South Asian women doing so many amazing things. I want to try to showcase some of them on this blog with this new feature: "In Focus."

My first interview is with Pooja Pittie, a mother of a 6 year old who lives in Chicago, loves to eat out, read and paint, sometimes dreams of going back to art school, and has authored and designed a series of beautifully illustrated books for Indian children. When Pooja couldn't find books and DVDs to introduce Indian culture to her son, she took the matter into her own hands and decided to make her own. Hence, Little GuruSkool was born. Heralded by many as "Baby Einstein for Indians," the 3 books and 3 DVDs currently available teach children about colors, music, and animals, in English and in Hindi, with an Indian backdrop of culture and music. The book on animals, for instance, takes children on a journey from the jungle to the farm to the ocean, highlighting the names of the animals in English and in Hindi. The book on musical instruments introduces kids to the strings of a sitar, the beats of a dholak and the melodies of a flute. And the accompanying DVDs visually and musically compliment the books.

I recently had the opportunity to talk with Pooja about Little Guru Skool, how she got it off the ground, and where she sees it going. She and her books have recently been splashed around in the press and she has some great insight on the constant "balance" we all crave in parenting our children. Plus she's just a rockstar. LittleGuruSkool books and DVDs are available at LittleGuruSkool.com, as well as Amazon.com. Also, you can preview the DVDS or sample songs from the CDs at Pooja's site. Readers, meet Pooja:

Tell us about your inspiration to start Little GuruSkool.

Well, I am a first-generation Indian and I wanted to make sure my son was learning about India. I used to be very hesitant about letting him watch videos but then I came upon the "Baby Einstein" series and I really came to admire it. The reality is that, in this day and age, both parents are busy and kids are going to watch t.v. This is of course a deviation from the Indian mindset that somebody should always be taking care of a child so I had my own issues with it. But I found Baby Einstein to be interactive and definitely educational. When I tried to find something like the Baby Einstein series that was focused on Indians, I was surprised to see there really was nothing out there.

Why were you surprised?

You just never think that you have had the "big idea" so when I found myself really thinking that if I was going to find content I was going to have to write it myself, I found that surprising. Everything I found, here and in India, just didn't appeal to me in terms of quality, or wasn't age-appropriate. And when I started asking other Indian parents if they had had any luck in finding good, entertaining, educational books or DVDS about India, I was amazed by how eager they were to find the same sort of thing.

Lots of our readers grapple with the conundrum of exposing our kids to Indian culture. How do your books and DVDs do this?

I like to think the books and DVDs provide a good balance of Western and Indian culture. Which is really how I wanted my son to grow up. The material isn't "too ethnic" and the sensibility in terms of content and illustration is modern. It's different from other "Indian" products--it isn't designed to be any sort of language immersion. Instead, I hope the books and other materials subtly expose children to portions of what makes Indian culture great--the sights, the sounds, the music, the language.


What are the other ways you inject Indian culture into your lives?

Simple things. By traveling to India with my son as frequently as possible. He's 6 years old now and has been there about 6 times - I know it's difficult to travel there often, but children never forget that early exposure. Even at 5 years of age, Aarav talked about places and people he interacted with on his last trip when he was just 4!

By cooking Indian food for my son, teaching him the Hindi words as we go along, telling him anecdotes about my childhood &and food that I liked to eat when growing up.

By listening to Hindi music with him - I haven't exposed him to Bollywood movies but many songs--from old movies & new ones--are a great way to get children familiar with the sounds of Indian instruments and languages. And Aarav finds the big dance sequences highly amusing.

Do you worry about your son not being "Indian" enough?

You know, maybe I should but I don't. I moved here when I was 21 years old and see so much greatness in the Western culture. I think I would be doing my son an injustice to "make" him more Indian. I myself don't feel overly American and at the same time I don't feel overly Indian. I don't want to make my son feel out of place in this place that is his home. Of course I want him to be aware of his roots and be comfortable with his identity. But I think it should be done without too much force.

What were you doing before you launched Little GuruSkool?

I got my MBA from the University of Chicago Class of 2005 and upon graduation, I worked at Unilever on the Dove Hair brand in the U.S. for 1.5 yrs. Last year, I left Unilever to pursue Little GuruSkool full-time

Do you write the books and videos yourself?

I create all the concepts for the videos and books. I work with a film production studio in Bombay of course, but nothing goes forward without my input or approval. Based on the videos, I create the storyboard and illustrations for the books myself, but I have the illustrations professionally rendered afterwards.

Take us through "a day in the life" of Pooja...

A "day in the life" in terms of business could be - waking up at 4 am to talk to my web developers in India, creating a storyboard for one of the book titles, working with the graphics designer on the DVD packaging, meeting an Indian mom for coffee to get some ideas, spending an hour on the phone with customer service at Amex to make sure my website accepts their cards and at the end of the day, always evaluating my written plan and writing up a to-do list for the next day!

"Busy" doesn't do you justice--so tell us, what are your tips for the perpetual juggling we all do--of kids, family, work, pleasure?

I am not too rigid and disciplined about my work schedule - quite impulsive in fact and I think this allows me to juggle things better. I know that sounds contradictory, but since "pleasure" and "family" are part of the balancing act, it helps to be impulsive and flexible. It allows me to enjoy life a lot more. I'm good at taking breaks!

I've realized that I'm ambitious in all these areas of my life and wouldn't sacrifice one for the other, and so for me, it's all about balance. I am trying to accept that everything cannot be perfect and I shouldn't be too hard on myself! Starting a business in an area like this has been all-consuming but I try to have weekends where I take time off from even "thinking" about work. And, with my son, I try to involve him in as many things as I can - especially things that I enjoy doing - painting, cooking, listening to music

What are some of the other parenting sites/books/products you like?

Like I've said, I've admired and used a lot of Disney's Baby Einstein products. I think they've done an excellent job in developing a range of complementary products for pre-school children.

Believe it or not, I've never read a "parenting guide" really - I rely on my mum's anecdotes from our childhood to be my guide!

In terms of toys, I've found Magna tiles & Legos to be very effective in engaging my son for hours and at the same time, helping him think about building things

Last book you loved? Movie? TV show?

I love reading - last couple of books that I liked were "Shantaram"--was struck by an outsider's account of the city being something I could agree with!--and "Time Traveler's Wife." I'm reading "Three Cups of Tea" right now which is so inspiring

The last movie I loved? "Sex & the City"! Also liked "Sarkar." I know that's old but I'm not the biggest movie buff!

As for TV - I love Dragons' Den on BBC America.

Tell us the funny things your son is doing these days.

He's really into playing guessing games with people - whether it's humming a tune and having them guess the song or drawing out a house with a paper flap for a door and having people guess what's inside the house!

What are the weirdest/funniest/strangest reactions you've had to starting Little GuruSkool?

My family and friends were surprised that I was starting a media company without any prior media experience--my background is in Finance and Accounting!

Some people have asked if I was setting up an actual "school" for children because of the name. And a lot of people tease me about the spelling of "skool" - I chose that spelling because it's a play on the word "gurukul" and "kool" sounded a lot closer to that word.

Any advice for budding-entrepreneurs reading this?

I want to say "go for it" but with one caveat. You need to have a very clear vision of what you want to do before you just take the plunge. Without the vision, you will get side-tracked. For instance, with my books, I had to fight nearly daily for the sort of "less is more" illustration style. If I didn't stay firm in what I wanted it to be, my vision for the books would have gotten lost. But, I cannot even describe how happy I am that I left my old job to do this full time. If you are lucky enough to find something you really love and that really inspires you, take the plunge!

What's up next for Little GuruSkool?

I want Little GuruSkool to be a cultural "gurukul" for parents and children around the world. I plan to introduce new topics every few months and new products like toys, flash cards & coloring books. This is my plan but in the end, I am looking to all the parents out there who care about this to give me ideas and suggestions on how I could help them introduce their children to this vibrant culture.

Pooja would love to know what you guys think of her books, and what sorts of titles you would like to see. Please feel free to leave Pooja questions and comments here, or to email her directly at pooja.goel@littleguruskool.com.

Check out more of the books and DVDs here and here.

Culturally-Appropriate Sleep Training?

A reader, Priya, emailed me a few days ago with a question that has had me thinking ever since:

As a new mom of a 4.5 month old girl, I have been grappling with sleep issues. She used to sleep well at night. Now she, well, doesn't. It sucks; I'm tired. And I'm also getting advice left and right. But somehow it's turned into a bit of a cultural issue in my head. The more "American" way to deal with it is to Ferberize. The more desi way to deal with it is to go with the flow, let her sleep when she needs to and in our bed if necessary (a la my mother and mother in law).

I'm of two minds.

Are there other baby care issues that can come down on cultural lines?

I was immediately reminded of the first couple times we went to visit my in-laws in L.A. after D was born. They were of course excited to show off their first grandson to their friends, and wanted to take him to weddings, parties, people's homes. I was an insecure new mom who, at the time, needed a schedule the way others need things like air and water. I knew what time D needed to eat, sleep, bathe--and I believe he thrived on the routine we kept. So I forced my husband to put his foot down (which is the subject of another whole line of posts) and insist that we wouldn't take D out after 8:00. D goes to sleep at 8, I would recite as mantra-slash-automated-cult-programming. After initial protest, my in-laws tried to be understanding of my rigidity, but I would still hear many stories from various people in the community about how when my husband and his childhood friends were babies, they were out partying till 3 a.m. on a regular basis, and how J over in Diamond Bar takes her kids to every sangeet and mehndi on the social calendar. And you know how those stories can affect you when the source is in-law-related and when you are still unsure of Every. Single. Thing. you are doing as a mom.

Fast forward to now. While I am no longer pathologically attached to my schedules, I still do believe in routine--maybe even more for me than my children. I suppose it isn't very "desi." But it is what keeps me "sane." I will take some sanity over homage to my cultural heritage in this round.

As for Priya's question: What do you guys think? Have you/do you sleep-train your kids and do you meet resistance from your family for doing so? Do you have other examples of care-taking that are frought with cultural implications?

File Under: What Were They Thinking?

Yesterday I had lunch with my friend V, and we were discussing how everyone we know is jumping on the "I can be an entrepreneur!" bandwagon. It seems like a smart thing to do, especially in this economy: Find something you like to do, set up your little cottage industry in your home, see where it takes you. I fully support these efforts. But sometimes enough is enough. In the ever-expanding commercial terrain known as the baby-industrial-complex, you have to wonder whether there are any limits to the products that will be pushed on us. For instance, many moms I know recognized their limit when mommy blogs and magazines alike started pimping these "delivery gowns"--nightgowns for us to purchase and use only once, during labor and delivery. I didn't and don't want to buy the delivery gown but I wasn't as angry about it as some other people--to each her own, I thought. However, I think I have now found my limit. Introducing: Morning Chicness Bags.

Yes. That's right. "Morning Chicness Bags." These "super cute" bags are designed--you guessed it--for you to vomit into. They are essentially pastel colored paper bags with a bit of pretty. Their tagline? "Morning sickness vomit bags for the chic expectant mother." I do not think I have ever seen the words "vomit" and "chic" in the same sentence before--for good reason. I am almost at a loss for words. (Isn't this picture hilarious??)

I feel a little guilty hating this product so much. After all, it's no skin off my back that the product's inventor has made it and is putting it out into the world. And maybe she is laughing/vomiting all the way to the bank, who knows (though: please, please tell me, who would buy this??). In fact, this wretched (ha) product proves as inspiration for us all: If designer vomit bags can find their way into the marketplace, so can that idea you have been mulling over for years. Get to it. Seriously. Need more inspiration? This guy got an entire "cookbook" published--about semen-based recipes...!

Hand me one of those vomit bags.

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?

I Need A Hero

February's Glamour Magazine profiles Supriya Jindal--wife of Louisiana Governor and former VP-short-listed "Bobby" Jindal--as a "fiesty" woman who also happens to be "our only Indian American First Lady."

Images of Clarence Thomas race through my head. He must have a wife. I wonder if she is like Supriya. It sounds harsh I know but let's review the facts: Bobby's real name? Piyush. He "adopted" his current moniker in homage to Bobby Brady. Presently-Catholic Piyush's born religion? Hinduism. He converted in high school. And of course there is his famous New Oxford Review essay--"Beating the Demon, Physical Dimensions of Physical Warfare"--which details his belief in exorcism. All this and we haven't even gotten started on the Governor's views on church and state, stem cell research, gay marriage--but I am getting off topic...

Bottom-line, the guy seems decidedly anti-Indian and while I suppose it isn't fair to assume his wife holds the same views, when she is paraded around as our only Indian American First Lady and she doesn't say anything to distance herself from her husband's whitewash, what is anybody supposed to think? She gives us a little glimpse into her views in a local New Orleans newspaper interview:

Although she has visited India several times -- including once with Bobby, when he was sent as a congressman on a trade mission -- she says she doesn't feel any particular attachment to the country of her ancestors or any particular sense of comfort when she's there. Nor does she follow the news from India with any particular regularity.

Okay, fine. There it is. Be who you want to be right? Be American, be yourself, be cool. And, in all honesty, Supriya seems cool enough. By all accounts, she is a whip-smart, considerate powerhouse, juggling three kids and a career. According to the Glamour piece, she is getting ready to launch the Supriya Jindal Foundation for Louisiana Children, a nonprofit aimed at fixing the state's lagging math and science scores. What's not to like about improving education? Plus I have a soft-spot for the woman since her son's name is Shaan, as is mine.

But the Jindals constitute token representation of Indians, at best. Is there any disputing that? And I can't help but wish that Glamour had picked somebody else to represent us. Someone who, perhaps, rose in her own right. A South Asian woman who stands up proudly, or at least not in shame or ignorance, of where she (and her husband) come from, geographically, culturally, philosophically. Someone like...

Like...

Like who? Who are our South Asian female role models? Help me out here...

Christmas Penis Issues

You likely have a bunch of things you are worried about this holiday season. The still-gloomy economy. Traveling with children. What to wear to the "festive ethnic chic attire requested" cocktail party. Unfortunately, I am here to tell you that you need to add one more concern to your list: Your toddler son harming his penis with a toilet seat.

That's right.

According to this recent report, injuries by toilet seats are on the rise and--ready for it?--"[a]s Christmas approaches many families will be visiting relatives and friends and their recently toilet-trained toddlers will be keen to show how grown up they are by going to the toilet on their own...It is important that parents check out the toilet seats in advance, not to mention the ones they have in their own homes, and accompany their children if necessary."

The doctors who authored this report suggest tips to parents to prevent penis-injury-by-toilet-seat, including banning "heavier" toilet seats and "leaving the toilet up after use, even though it contradicts the social norm of putting it down." They earnestly tell the reader that: "We are concerned that the growing trend of heavy toilet seats poses a risk not only to [toddlers'] health, but to their confidence."

Um. Come on. Where do I even begin? First of all, I can't stop laughing over the fact that this article somehow makes the issue of toilet-seat issues a Christmas topic. Really? Beware of people posing as Santa, bad eggnogg, and particularly heavy toilet seats out to get your toddler sons?

But, more importantly, how far are we going to go in our never-ending pursuit to protect our children? The verbotin peanuts, the agonizing over PBS Sprout's "educational content," the horror and guilt over standard-issue scraped knees or bruised elbows. I think Indian moms are hard-wired to be overprotective and reports like this don't help matters at all. I'm reminded of an article my friend Anu sent around a while ago about a mom who--purposely--left her 9 year old at Bloomingdales, armed with a MetroCard and a subway map, believing it was time for him to learn to use the subway on his own. She was accused of everything from being a bad mother to being a criminal but she stood by her decision and said that "the problem with this everything-is-dangerous outlook is that over-protectiveness is a danger in and of itself."

It's true. I really believe it...and I really don't want to have to leave the toilet seats in my house up. I've just taught my husband to put them down.

(Thank you Meghana for alerting me to this penis report...!)

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.

Porn for Devis with Babies

Household chores are the number one thing that couples with children fight about, according to a survey I read recently. Indeed, in today’s society where gender roles have become largely undefined, it’s up to each couple to figure out the division of labor. Will you cook while your husband cleans, or vice versa? Who will do, fold and put away the laundry? How about the bills, the grocery shopping, the light bulb that needs changing?

You may have read Lisa Belkin’s New York Times article over the summer about couples who do everything equally. They "work equal hours, spend equal time with their children, take equal responsibility for their home.” This small group of people understand “that this would mean recalibrating their career ambitions, and probably their income, but what they gained, they believed, would be more valuable than what they lost.”

I read the article with avid interest, and then thought of whether I actually know any desi couples who practice “equally shared parenting.” You already know my answer, don't you?

The vast majority of Devis with babies still take on most of the housework. We usually cook and clean more, spend more time with our kids than our husbands do, and have more responsibilities around the home. Even if our husbands share the household tasks, we are still the proactive ones who know when the laundry needs to get done, what the diaper bag needs to be packed with, what’s for dinner. At parties, we're usually the ones in the kitchen, setting out the plates and making sure the food is warm. I also realized that among most of the desi couples I know, the husband/father spends more time working. So it could be argued that both female and male roles among second-generation desis are more traditional. Either way, we usually get stuck with the mundane daily tasks.

This may be an obvious observation, but it interests me nonetheless. What is it about us Devis that makes us more prone to embrace traditional gender roles? Is it because our parents were more traditional, and we’re just once removed from the homeland? As far as I know, we didn’t know when we got married, or had kids, that it would inevitably be this way. Many of us planned for it not to be so.

Also, it doesn't come easily: most of us go through periods of figuring it all out (a.k.a. fighting), and then arrive at some imperfect yet livable situation for awhile, until we get sick of it and try to find a better solution again. A friend of mine jokingly told me that while her husband uses porn to get off, all she needs is a house that he helped her clean to get her in the mood.

Why, all these years after women's lib and migrating from the homeland, are we still stuck with the housework? And, perhaps as a more productive discussion, what works and doesn't work with the division of labor in your home?

The Enigma of Marriage and Ambition

My husband is a trooper. Anyone who’s married to a writer deserves a medal of honor, in my book. We are moody types, prone to long bouts of introspective reticence, sudden bursts of manic energy, and a tendency to over-analyze everything from the state of the world to the state of our daily lives. “What’s it all for?” we’re constantly asking. Of course, we never have a definitive answer to that question.

It can get tiring for us, but at least we can explain it away by saying it’s all fodder for the book we’re going to write or the short story we’ve been working on in our heads for the past two years. (Or, in my present case, a blog entry I’m putting up the next day!) For our partners, however, it’s maddening. They don’t understand why we have to live so much of our lives in our heads. They also carry a heavy burden: that of being our muses, our cheerleaders, and at times, our punching bags when things go south.

I use the term “punching bag” figuratively, of course, but for one of my favorite writers on the planet, it turns out this term is very close to describing what his ex-wife, Patricia Hale, was to him. I’m talking about Vidyadhar Suraj-prasad, “Vido,” Sir Vidia -- V. S. Naipaul. In The World Is What It Is, Patrick French’s biography of Naipaul releasing in the U.S. next week, this “cruel and unusual” relationship is depicted in all its horrors. Astonishingly, the biography is authorized: Naipaul gave French intricate details of his marriage, even handing over his late wife’s diaries to French.

Naipaul and Hale met at Oxford, married quickly, and spent the rest of their lives in pursuit of his many literary ambitions. Hale gave up everything to marry Naipaul, “a scholarship boy with no prospects, contacts or money at a time when the racial prejudice endemic at every level of British society prevented him getting a job or even renting a room in London.” She served as his editor, typist, and secretary, even on her deathbed as she lay dying of cancer. And in return? From The Guardian:

He stopped her acting on the grounds that it offended him, refused to buy her a wedding ring ('I had no interest in jewellery,' he explained blandly to his biographer) and stamped out any hope she may have had of an independent career, except in so far as he needed her initially to earn his keep.

Her world contracted as his expanded. He undermined her confidence, derided her opinions and told her she was too dull to take to parties. She stopped travelling with him because, for the last 20 years of her life, he shared his favours with a far more sophisticated and no less compliant Argentinian mistress who crisscrossed the globe at his side, providing services, principally boastful, energetic and violent sex, outside the scope of his mute, sad, stay-at-home wife.

She records this all in a painful, self-loathing way in her diaries. From The Atlantic:

Vidia’s unconscious hope may have been that if he were sufficiently horrible to Pat, she might disappear. Alone in her room at the cottage, she dutifully recorded his insults … “He has not enjoyed making love to me since 1967 [the entry is for 1973]”; “You know you are the only woman I know who has no skill. Vanessa paints, Tristram’s wife paints, Antonia, Marigold Johnson” … Even when she was alone, Pat felt she had failed her husband. After going up to London to watch a play with Antonia, Francis and Julian Jebb, she concluded that while she was there she had “lived up to Vidia’s dictum: ‘You don’t behave like a writer’s wife. You behave like the wife of a clerk who has risen above her station.’”

It finally became too much for her when Naipaul publicly announced in 1994 that he had regularly paid prostitutes for sex in the early years of his marriage:

The shock of this revelation devastated Patricia Naipaul, who had been in remission from a cancer that now became terminal. 'It could be said that I killed her,' her husband conceded dispassionately to his biographer in one of the brutally frank interviews that provide the backbone of this extraordinary book.

The insult didn’t stop after her death, however. Naipaul proposed to his current wife, Nadira Alvi, a Pakistani journalist 20 years younger than the writer, as soon as it became clear that Hale was going to die:

'He felt angry that she was dying,' Nadira reported, 'and angry that she was not dying fast enough because he wanted to carry on with his life.' The day after Patricia Naipaul's brief, austere and impersonal funeral, her successor moved into her house and a few months later scattered her ashes in the nearest wood while reciting a prayer in praise of Allah.

Naipaul’s “extraordinary callousness” has been well-documented in the past, most famously by Paul Theroux in his scathing 1998 biography of the man, Sir Vidia’s Shadow. As a student, I read and re-read his books, marvelling at his mastery of the English language. He was my favorite writer for years. He’s won the Nobel and been knighted, and it’s a prodigious accomplishment, especially given where he came from, as a penniless grandson of an indentured laborer.

But now, perhaps in part owing to my perspective as a Devi with baby, I chafe at what happened behind the scenes while all this was going on. All sorts of thoughts run through my head as I read. That poor woman! And, what kind of a man could treat such a loyal partner in this way? And, what kind of woman would put up with that?

We've often heard about how great men and women in history often have had flawed personal lives. So many examples in recent history come to mind, from Bill Clinton to Madonna. It makes me wonder if a worldwide level of fame or achievement is almost intrinsically at odds with a functional personal life. It seems to be the sacrifice one has to make in order to be great, because other parts of your life inevitably have to suffer.

Is Naipaul still one of the greatest writers in history? Yes. Can we still adore and admire his books knowing the pain and degradation he inflicted upon another human being in order to create them? That answer is personal for everyone. I am also a firm believer that you can't judge someone else's marriage, because you really have no idea what happens behind closed doors.

What I do know is, if that’s what it took for me to be as great a writer as Naipaul, it’s not a sacrifice I’d be willing to make. Would you?

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?

Obama vs. Brown ... vs. Brown

The continuation of the debate on race, sparked by Brown Girls, ignited by Sepia Mutiny, and spreading back to Devis with Babies, has us fascinated, perplexed and downright amazed. It seems a lot of people feel the need to have their say on the matter of interracial dating vis-à-vis the Obama candidacy.

In 1991, Denzel Washington and Sarita Choudhury brought the controversial topic of Brown + Black romance to mainstream America. (Who can forget that steamy love scene? Way to go, Mira Nair!) Guess what? Seventeen years later, we’re still debating the same issue. What’s even more incredible: A lot of us were teenagers ourselves when that movie came out, and thoroughly related to Choudhury's Meena as she professed her love for Washington's Demetrius to her parents. Now, as parents, a number of us seem to relate more to the Indian parents in the film than to Meena.

For the most part, discussion on this topic is good discussion. We need to talk/write these things out and understand one another’s perspectives. As I was reading all the comments, I thought of how a localized variation of this topic came to light in my own family twenty years ago, when my brother married outside our “community.” She was Indian and Hindu, as were we. But she was Telugu, and we were Gujarati. The union was met with caution from all sides. Her relatives questioned my brother’s lack of advanced degrees at the time; our relatives wondered if she would “fit in.” Looking back, all the concern was laughable. But at the time, South Indian/North Indian unions were less commonplace than they are today, and different communities viewed each other with a lot of suspicion. Today, I don’t think any of the commenters concerned about their kids marrying outside their race would mind them marrying outside of their ethnic Indian state.

Am I wrong though? Is this still an issue, in much the same way Indian/African-American dating is to a number of you, twenty years on? We all know the stereotypes we have of one another: Southies vs. Northies, Punjabis vs. Gujaratis, Bengalis vs. Malayalis. Does the personal Bradley effect exist even amongst Desis who share common religions and homelands, but who hail from separate states? How would you feel if your kid brought home someone from a different region of India? What’s been your experience with introducing your parents to a boyfriend or girlfriend from a different Indian state?

We'll get back to regular Devis with Babies programming shortly. But it’s clear our community has much to say on these topics right now with race/otherness in the national spotlight, and we want to hear you!

Monday Musings: Bringing Obama Home to Momma

It's been a busy weekend for the "Brown Girls." Last week's strip--centered around the idea that the personal "Bradley effect" is as much an issue in our cultural landscape as the political one--landed on the pages of Sepia Mutiny, sparking a debate that is currently 150+ comments strong. And those wacky "Brown Girls" have generated some of the most comments to-date amongst we Devis on this blog as well (thank you readers!)

Having written the comic, I of course love the idea that it prompted even one reader to comment, whether out of agreement, disagreement, anger or curiosity--in the ocean of media available to us, it is a rare category of material that causes any reaction these days, don't you think? (Then again, that would mean I would be impressed by "W" because its horribleness moved me to tears and made me bemoan two lost hours of my life...) That it has provoked so much conversation and that, for the most part, the level of dialogue on everything from assimilation, acculturation, and insidious racism has been amazingly impressive and enlightening--all the better. One of the many lines of commentary that struck me strongly was the thoughtful presentation for and against marrying non-Indians. In attempting to make sense of what, at first blush, seems like "racist older generation Indians," "NaraVara" on Sepia explained that "[c]ulturally I think our parents were raised under traditions that were geared towards thinking in terms of retaining a sense of community into future generations...My parents would not be comfortable with me marrying a White girl...That doesn't mean they would not accept her with open arms or love the grandchildren we have any less. But the fact is that if I marry a Desi girl they will be much more secure in the knowledge that our kids will be Indian. With half-White grandkids it's a toss-up. Call it retrograde if you want. But this is the mentality that allowed us Indians to retain our unique cultural identities over a thousand years of being ruled by foreigners..."

On this blog, "Shimarella" expressed surprise that the issue of Indian parental disapproval of dating outside the race was even still an issue: "I know Indians of my parents generation still feel this way. But seriously? Are there still younger brown desi divas who think this?"

From shock over racism to shock over people being shocked--an entire spectrum of opinion was presented with authenticity and candor.

Humor too of course. Perhaps foreseeing the hot-button nature of this penumbra of issues, "glasshouses" offered words of advice to any non-Indian interested in an Indian girl: "Run from desi girl and don't look back."

And what commentary would be complete without some vitriol. Check out "GetOffMyLawn," schooling everybody on blaming parents for everything: "Don't forget that the very values that many ABDs knock are the ones that have allowed South Asians to be the most successful minority in the West. Emphasizing family structure, respect for elders, respect for education, respect for one's body and sexuality and emotions, and above all, respect for the collective community rather than the individual are all why Asians can come from the poorest of regions during the worse of times and have their children in graduate schools within one generation...We have served you well. Show back some respect. Buying into facile discourses about race and identity and denigrating your own is an insult to those of us who came to a brand new country to give YOU a better life. This discussion about desi parents or community being racist is really disheartening...You may see us as old fashioned, racist, obsessed with color, etc. That may be true, but we are also obsessed with feeding you, clothing you, making sure that we, and not the school teachers, are parents, and we also took painful steps to make it in a country alien to us so that you can come on this blog and whine about not being able to openly date a black man. If you feel that you want to date out of your race, then have the strength of character to openly date that person."

LOVE all of this. I want to talk with "GetOffMyLawn" and ask her what she would think if her daughter brought Obama home to her. He emphasizes family structure, shows respect for elders, values education and I would guess respects his body and sexuality (Barack: I know you are reading, feel free to chime in...!) Yet I am willing to bet that an "I walked uphill both ways to school in the snow in Delhi where it doesn't even snow" guilt-trip would ensue nonetheless. Hence: The personal-Bradley effect.

The personal IS political.

Even on Sepia, where the audience is--I would hazard to guess--a bit more vigilante than the average Devi with Baby, the crux of the discussion centered around social issues and our parents. Why they think the way they do. How that affects the way we think. How we interface with them when we disagree with them. Taking this a step further and addressing you Devis--who actually are parents: What would you do if your daughter brought Obama home to momma? Would you be cool with it ("Is this even an issue?")? Want to be cool with it but not REALLY be cool with it ("I know alot of black people! They are some of my closest friends!")? Be REALLY uncool with it ("Over my dead body, and I make no apologies")? And is there a disconnect between the way you would answer this particular question, and how you view the issues of race and racism more generally?

It doesn't seem fair to pose these questions and not try to give some sketch of where I'm coming from so: By way of background, my parents called me the "United Nations dater" before I married my Punjabi husband. They were cool with it--but they essentially wanted to hold a parade when I went Brown. And I'm not alone. There are many of us out there who dated outside of our race but then ultimately married within it. Whether there was personal Bradley at work or not--definitely a part of this debate.

So what's my take-away. As much as I can read and agree with bits and pieces of so much that has been said in the back-and-forth on racial politics that the comic has provoked, I come back to the notion that it's horribly depressing that we think we have to "stick to our own" to preserve some sort of ethnic heritage; that an African American is for any reason unacceptable in our homes just because he is African American; that we can and do justify subtle racism in the name of "culture." Couching our concerns about race in the language of "cultural preservation" is, in and of itself, a personal Bradley effect. Taz, the original poster on Sepia responded to some of her critics by saying that she thinks it will become easier to bring a black man home if Obama is elected. I think she's right. As Manju said, "Obama will do for racism what Goldman Sachs did for anti-semitism on wallst, which is not to say he'll end it, but rather show us the way to overcome it." And, although Rahul is correct that "the the FDR presidency didn't create an epidemic of polio afflicted grooms," it begs to be noted that FDR (with the assistance of the press--can you imagine?) kept the extent of his handicap a secret from the public for the vast majority of his presidency.

Our buddy Barack's race is no secret. It's out there, looming large, for all of us and our personal Bradley-mechanisms to see, internalize, learn from. This can ONLY do good things for our little devis and boy-devis: The President of the United States--dark and "different"--is going to look more like our kids than those of the Smiths and the Jones. Yes it's superficial but so is discussing politicians' haircuts, Neiman Marcus shopping sprees, use of spray foundation, love of pretzels. Superficial isn't always as superficial as we think. Unpack a comic and you might find a debate.

Yes it's all very messy. Yes there are lots of considerations. But do I think we can weigh all the considerations and fix this mess, you guys? Hell YES WE CAN.

A Cheat Sheet for School Diwali Presentations

Oh, crap. Tomorrow’s Diwali, and one of the teachers at your child’s school has asked you to do a presentation on the holiday for her class this week. Is she kidding? Does she think that just because you originally hail from the Indian subcontinent, and/or are a Hindu, you should know what Diwali is all about??

The little-known secret among many of us is that we really have no clue, do we. We want to hand down these cultural traditions, but truth be told, oftentimes we're just winging it. We don’t live in an entire country that does rangoli designs in front of their houses on the same day. One entire isle of Rite Aid doesn't get converted for Diwali. We don’t even have the option of doing a version of “Chrismukkah” -- December’s too far away for Christwali, and I’m not sensing a mass movement for Diwaloween.

This, Devis, is what DwB is here for. We’ve already covered ten ways to celebrate Diwali with your own kids, but how about introducing it to non-Indians? It’s important to enlighten your child’s classmates about Indian culture, right? Maybe then your kid won’t seem so “other” to them. Maybe a Diwali presentation is what will bridge the gap of understanding between cultures, so that your child will finally be accepted for who he/she is, become popular, get better grades, and eventually become the next president of the United States.

Or maybe you just don’t want to look bad in front of your kid’s teacher. Either way, here are some ideas we’ve gleaned from around the Web.

1. You’ll have to start with a 5-minute talk on “What is Diwali,” but don’t fret, there are people who know about this sort of thing and have done it for you. Try National Geographic’s new, panreligious explanation of Diwali, or LearnHub’s Diwali one-pager. Also, recruit the first generation! They usually know what they’re talking about. Ask your parents, uncles, or aunts to come with you and help out.

2. Have the kids make Diwali collages: Type “Diwali” into Flickr (or just click here) and print out some of the beautiful photos that appear. Add scissors, glue and paper, and you’re ready to go.

3. If the kids are older, have them make rangoli designs. Type “rangoli” into Google Images and print out some of the photos. The kids can recreate the designs with chalk on chalkboards or, if the school is willing, on the ground in an outside area.

4. If you’re more ambitious, try having them make diyas with self-hardening clay and paint. Both of these are available at kids’ toy stores. Or if you’re crafy, try this 15-minute, 5-ingredient recipe for a Diwali favorite, coconut barfi. (Check with your kid’s teacher to make sure this is copacetic to do, and leave out the nuts for allergies.)

Indian Baby Names 2.0

Naming a child has always been a thorny enterprise. How do you put all of the love, hope and meaning of having a baby into one name that will identify your spawn for life? It's hard enough to do. But for our generation of Indians brought up and living in the West, it's even more challenging. We want to come up with names that can be enunciated by maitre d's and grandmothers alike, but that have a beautiful, deep meaning.

We can all think of names that were mauled by grade school teachers and/or taunted by fifth-grade bullies. (To all the "Anils" and "Hardiks" out there, I apologize on behalf of your parents.) I’m thankful that I don’t have that problem. My father got my name from a Bollywood hit song which had the lyric, "Monica, oh my darling…." Even though I’ve received my fair share of "What's your Indian name? Your real name?" comments, I'm still grateful to Asha Bhosle for singing that song. But for all the Indian Monicas I know, my name remains a firmly western one – never possessing a Sanskrit or Persian root or meaning, therefore never fully incorporated into the naming culture of the subcontinent and its diasporas.

Aiming to meet those two naming objectives -- pronounceable yet profound -- some of us have become creative. We’ve searched books and websites for names that have crossover appeal, and found names like Milan, Maya, Dhillon, Tara, Krishan, Devin, Roshan, Amaya. It's also important to us that people pronounce these names with the accent on the right syllable, engendering a set of names with double a's (Armaan, Aadesh, Kaayva).

Others have gone as far west as possible without alienating grandparents: Jay, Neil, Sara, Julie, Sophie. Still others have stuck to pronounceable classics: Arjun, Anjali, Shreya, Krishna.

Certain names are probably lost to us forever. Like all those lovely, funny names of our ancestors. I doubt I'll receive an email announcing the birth of Saraswati, Suryakant, Sushrata or Satinder any time soon. I'll probably never seriously entertain the thought of naming my child after my grandmother, Sulochna, or my grandfather, Shantilal. It's too bad, because those names have such gorgeous meanings: Sulochna means beautiful eyes, and Shantilal means peaceful.

The problem is, there are only so many pronounceable-yet-profound names. Thus, the glut of similar names -- I've lost count of how many Anyas and Akashes I know. And, of course, you have to stay away from names chosen by close friends and family. (Why did I name my cousin's son "Devin"? Now I won't be able to use it!)

But still, I'm glad no one is resorting to "Peter" or "Rebecca" just yet.