Desicritics Author: Seema Dhindaw

"Oh Boy!"

Seema Dhindaw — Thu, 15 May 2008 03:43:09 EDT

“Thank god, it’s a boy! How wonderful! Congratulations” I remember the desi uncles and aunties saying with abandon even as I stood right next to my parents. My memories of their uninhibited exclamations of “Badhaai ho, munda hua!” ring loud and clear even today. Being their first-born, a daughter, I couldn’t help being overcome with feelings of jealousy and apprehension. The realization that someone else was going to steal my parent’s attention was enough to get my 6-year old heart racing. My big brown eyes widened and filled with fear as I looked up at my parents and repeatedly asked “Do you still love me?”

As my brother and I grew older, sadly my fears became reality. The favoritism had become strikingly apparent not just to me but others as well. My aunt and neighbors noticed and did what they could to make me feel special. My grandmother, on the other hand, visiting from India could not see past my brother.

I faded into the background and all my tiny accomplishments in kindergarten and elementary school went unnoticed. I began to realize just how important it was for my parents to have a son, particularly my mother. As teenage years approached, the treatment meted out by our parents was obviously differential. He got to stay out later than I did. His mistakes were more readily forgiven. His anger and outbursts excused with “Boys are like that, its ok.” He was bought an expensive car because “it would stay in the family.” His announcement of having a girlfriend was met with pride and encouragement while even a mention of my boyfriend would probably inspire histrionics. Over the years my hostility towards him manifested and our relationship floundered.

Many Indians including Punjabis tend to agree upon the value of the male child. In Indian households and particularly in North Indian families, the son is expected to live with his wife and children while caring for his aging parents in the same house. This can be quite a lot of pressure for any son. Financial responsibilities and the lack of privacy can make life pretty miserable for everyone.

What is bothersome is not that these biases exist but that many families strive relentlessly to preserve and propagate those here in America. My own family, I feel, has been guilty of this. Many a times my mother has made statements such as “He’s a boy, so it’s different. You should be more understanding”, ” We feel sad for so and so. They just have two daughters. Who will care for them when they’re old?!” A daughter can take as good if not better care of her parents than any son could. Why such a strong bias especially when you have a daughter who cares for you? A gift from me is “no big deal” but any small card or gesture from my brother is received with open arms and praise.

How does being female somehow make us inferior? The last time I checked we were in the year 2008, weren’t we? Not 1930. One would think these views about women would be the height of the matter but surprisingly they are not! It actually makes a difference if you are thin and fair. Even Bollywood has adopted the “gori chitti aur patli” (fair and skinny) paradigm. Recently, Bollywood actress Kareena Kapoor has made headlines for becoming an unhealthy and perhaps anorexic size zero. “Zero” not only describes how good she looks but also her acting abilities.

Bollywood actresses like her wear drag-queen-style make-up to match the desired skin color to appear beautiful. Up until recently no significant effort was made towards making the nearing 40 year old balding male actors with receding hairlines and age inappropriate clothing, more appealing.

No doubt Bollywood is guilty of such nonsense but what does one say when the almost 300 lb aunties in sarees with bulging love handles, blouses that barely fit and extraordinarily huge hips casually comment on how so and so’s daughter should lose weight. “She would look so much prettier.” What about their own short chubby sons? I'd like to ask. The standard response which I've heard so often is "Oh, but they are boys, so looks don’t matter as much. It is the girl that has to get married off.” Such a mentality is difficult to change.

Enforcing these beliefs in girls raised in the United States is ridiculous. It breeds low self-esteem within an environment that values confidence and grooming over skin color and weight. Tanning salons have opened up all over and constitutes a multi-billion dollar industry. Yet you still have Indians saying “Hai! Kitni gori hai, patli hai! Changa munda milega”.

As a woman born and raised in the US, I now find myself rolling my eyes at these comments but I have to admit, they affected my self-worth deeply as a teenager. Perhaps on a subconscious level they made me rebellious as well. Why do the women have to endure phone calls and comments centered around their weight and looks? How fair is it that no one seems to notice the nice developing potbelly on my brother or the man boobs that have appeared on Kunal? Women have to deal with comments such as "moti hogayi hai na?"

It doesn't matter that you might be a successful researcher or a prominent scientist or an engineer. Fat is of utmost importance. It is the men,the sons who are complimented on their careers. Even your female friends who happen to get in touch with you online after years have past don't care about your professional accomplishments. "You've become chubby" "Moti, fat jaadi....i".This obsession with weight among Indian women in particular is upsetting.Why aren't such comments directed towards men?

Hearing such female-degrading comments from families and friends at social gatherings has become commonplace for me. However, it was astonishing to face such comments in a professional setting. My very own Indian ex-PhD advisor wasn’t afraid to reveal and act on her biases. At a lab lunch celebrating my birthday, she in a very matter of fact manner said “Indian women need to be subdued, as Seema will learn.”

On other occasions, instead of providing advice regarding my project she would make comments about how I should “lose weight” so that I can “get a husband.” “ You should work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week because you don’t have a husband or kids. Look at all the other people in lab,they aren’t single. They have families. Even XYZ has a girlfriend.” As I listened to these unprofessional comments, I couldn’t help thinking ”aren’t you a woman too? Don’t you have a daughter? “ At the time being her student, I was too scared to say anything for fear that she would jeopardize my future. As fate would have it, I didn’t have to say anything, I guess just being an overweight, single American woman of Indian descent was enough for her to screw me over on a whim.

It’s depressing that such strong biases exist in the US among Indians even today. It takes a toll on you when you hear the same comments so many times from the people who are supposed to be your strongest supporters. It is even more alarming that people with these views can abuse their power and get away it. Isn’t it about time that people do away with this mentality and accept each other with fairness and equality? Man, woman, short. Tall, fat, skinny—what does it matter? Aren’t we all human?

Do You Know Your ABCDs?

Seema Dhindaw — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 00:22:44 EST

“I ain’t confused!” exclaimed Meena on the school bus. I tried to calm her down as she expressed irritation over her cousin calling her an ABCD. ABCD is an acronym for American Born Confused Desi/s. Hearing this phrase for the first time, I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant. A part of me wondered why she took offense to being called confused. Wearing a hijaab and a cotton kurta while bopping her head to catchy hip-hop beats, she was quite puzzling to many of us.

It wasn’t until years later in college that I began to understand what the phrase really meant. It had become increasingly common to call Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi Americans born in the United States “ABCDs.” Depending on the context, being pegged an “ABCD” was alienating due to the underlying prejudices associated with it. While there may be examples of individuals who do indeed exemplify the “ABCD” stereotype, there are just as many if not more, who do not.

A particularly widespread myth about second generation Indian Americans is that by virtue of being born in the US, they get things easy. However if I were to go India, wouldn’t I face more (or different) hurdles than a native? The language, lifestyle, educational system and work environment are in stark contrast from what I have been accustomed to. Despite being born in the US, there have been many circumstances in which I have had to work twice as hard as my American counterparts just to prove my worth. Simply being an American in America doesn’t guarantee an even playing field.

Another popular belief is that American born Desis (ABDs) have rich parents to cushion them financially whenever needed. Growing up, I watched my father’s futile attempts to achieve monetary gains for years. I couldn’t afford to be the spoiled party animal that ABDs are notoriously thought to be. You might wonder if I am an isolated case, but a number of my ABD friends have similar backgrounds. Their parents struggled to provide them with everything possible while earning a very modest income.

Our parents conscious (and sometimes over the top) attempts at preserving our Indian-ness forms the basis for some of the “confusion” detected in the young people raised in America. In addition to financial difficulties, many Indian families also struggle with social and cultural issues. Coming from countries rich in culture, history and religion, parents fear that their children would grow up devoid of the very influences that made up their identity. In many households, including mine, both parents mutually decided that it would be more beneficial for the children if the mother were to stay at home. They feared the total annihilation of “Indian-ness” and the complete infiltration of Western culture and values in their children. Some of these parents let their fears get the best of them and became extremely conservative, like mine. They attempted to create a twentieth century India within their homes that doesn’t even exist in contemporary Indian families in India. They even went so far as to adopt the overzealous Hare Krishna movement often mistaking it for Hinduism itself. At times, I contemplate about who is more “confused", my parents or me. Having made the conscious decision of raising their children in the United States why did they then so religiously prevent any of the country's influences, good or bad, from affecting us? To date, I see Indian parents raising children here making the same old mistakes. It does nothing but widens the gap within the family, creating two distinct schools of thought between the parents and the offsprings. The "confusion" in the ABCD label ltakes root in this very gap.

Our annual summer trips to Indian didn’t really help matters either. In contrast to my Indian cousins who were dating, drinking and dancing to Western tunes, I was only allowed to learn Kathak, couldn’t make friends, or be social. “"Friends are just another distraction" my parents would say worried that too many American friends would lead me astray. I could occasionally listen to Indian music, had to always be studying (preferably math and science only) and was required to go to the temple every Sunday. In protest, I would secretly read novels under the nightlight while in bed or fib about having a mandatory reading assignment from school. While my teenage cousins in India proudly declared that they were atheists and never went to the temple, I was learning to recite Hindu mantras.

Another notorious belief is that ABDs all lose their virginity by sixteen and are “easy.” I have heard many new Indian graduate students make such comments. If they were to actually act on these ideas by attempting to "score" with an American Indian they would realize just how wrong they were. My cousins in India would be out on dates all the time but I couldn't even got to to prom.

On my most recent trip to Mumbai, I saw teenage girls wearing mid-rif bearing tight tank tops and jeans everywhere. The modern day youth enjoy their late night parties, drinking fiascoes and dating habits. They speak with pride about the number of people they have dated and hearts they have broken. It is ironic that while living in India these youngsters ape the Western lifestyle and upon arriving in the United States label those born and raised here as "confused".

Come to think of it, the phrase ABCD inherently and if taken literally is not a negative one; quite frankly, the “confused” state can foster deep thought leading to positive growth and change. This is perhaps what allows us to adopt the best of both Asian and American culture. Considering most of us are clueless about something or the other there isn't really anything wrong with being confused at times. What needs examination is whether the stereotypes associated with this labels are fair.

Note: Most of you probably know me better as Mahasahasrapramardini Namboodiripad, the entertaining ABCD from Aditi Nadkarni’s Desicritics article. I decided that maybe DC could use an ABCD voice on its diverse platform.