I have been trying to keep up, however, and came upon this little gem of an article via our newstab (thanks Brij), relating the life of a peculiar kind of Yogi–one who may be tempted by “Extreme” branded potato chips.

I confess I am somewhat of a fan of orthodoxy–for Hatha Yoga, this sets me apart from adherents to a great deal of the ‘Yoga Styles’ currently popular throughout our urban centers–Bikram, Vinyasa, ‘Power Yoga’ and the like. These ‘styles’ generally incorporate extreme stress positions (ideas for Guantanamo?), extreme heat, push-ups or some combination thereof, in addition to the asanas you should be learning.

Though calisthenics aren’t a bad idea with regards to general cardiovascular health, Hatha Yoga’s basic poses could only be construed as an attempt at reaching a Richard Simmons-like nirvana of sweaty tights and oldies by someone who finds the distinction between the two to be functionally meaningless. This is missing the point: Hatha Yoga is a LOW-impact exercise meant to gently encourage your body to stretch.

Our man Jason Magness, of course, is into none of this yuppified “yoga booty ballet’ nonsense. Instead, he takes it one self-consciously non-conformist, dumpster-diving, freegan step forward–right onto a nylon rope lashed between two trees.

Yes, this is without a doubt impressive. But to what end? Hatha Yoga , for me, is valuable because of the tangible benefits it has for many who take up the practice for health reasons. Extreme stress positions, afforded by intensity-crazed disciplines currently popular, do not seem to achieve any tangible benefit other than an improbably swelled ego. So what does Magness think he’s getting out of being able to hold the Lotus Pose (Padmasana) on rope?

Mr. Magness calls himself a slacker.

Certainly impressive–but I was able to achieve ‘slacker’ status in college–while only able to balance myself on a folding chair during a spirited game of NCAA ’03 on my roommate’s Xbox.

Surely there are other benefits, perhaps a book deal or complimentary nylon rope from the manufacturer?

Since he and a friend invented the practice three years ago, Mr. Magness has given demonstrations at yoga conferences, released an instructional DVD and taught 2,000 people at workshops across the country.

Sadly, there was no nylon rope deal, but Magness did get a trip out of it(seemingly the only currency he values is travel). How about groupies? Every ‘best in the world at this discipline’ aspirant eventually has visions of inexplicably devoted fans, fortunately for Magness, he can potentially enjoy groupie love unencumbered by guilt:

He and his girlfriend of four years broke up in January because she wanted him home more. The woman, Kara Hawthorne, says Mr. Magness is torn between desires for stability and living rootless. “I go through periods where I think there’s something wrong with me and I wish I had a more-traditional life,” Mr. Magness says. “Sometimes I think it’s a character flaw.

Flaws aside, there is an admirable streak of stubbornness in this Yogi:

Mr. Magness works harder than most. In the past decade, he has completed a dozen ascents of previously unclimbed mountain routes and placed in 25 adventure races, often with minimal food and gear. “Exploring that edge of human potential is really fascinating to me,” he says.

It’s tempting to think that this willingness to test oneself for the sake of the testing itself is a sign of altruism, but as usual, there’s always the money angle:

“Their energy is absolutely infectious,” says David Kennedy, marketing manager for Prana clothing, a sponsor. “That free-spiritedness is part of what Prana would like to exemplify.” The trait also makes Mr. Magness difficult to corral. He and his circle prefer old clothes and living on four-figure annual incomes. Prana wants Mr. Magness to lead a nationwide yoga-slacklining tour. He says it sounds like work. “If a company wants too much from us, we just say we don’t have time to worry about selling your product,” says Mr. Magness, who also is sponsored by Ibex clothing and shoemaker Inov8.

It seems difficult to reconcile sponsors and DVD tours with a desire to live on discarded food (3-week old sharp cheddar tastes somewhat like Camembert?) and 4-figure annual income. It also seems difficult to find positive instructional content in his story. So, as usual, i’m left with a question: how do you mutineers do ‘extreme’ without compromising work/family/relationships?

The troupe recently performed at the Joyce Theater in New York (encores performances to follow), which earned yet another mildly positive yet utterly clueless review from the Grey Lady (which I will dissect later), and will continue on to the following locations: Feb 19-24, 2008 – The Joyce Theater , NYC

Apr 13, 2008: Stony Brook University , NYNrityagram is fairly unique as it’s the only school of dance (and so much more–beyond the scope of this post)that fairly strictly adheres to the ‘gurukulam’ format year round–students living in a preferably forested retreat with their guru; eating, sleeping and breathing their chosen discipline(s). It’s a very intense and effective teaching method for anything that requires a great deal of ‘muscle memory’ and spatial awareness. According to my anecdotal experience, even a few weeks of said Gurukulam-style training will raise anyone’s standard by a noticeable amount in only a few weeks.

I will be attending the performance at the University of Richmond’s Modlin Center on March 5th (not the 4th as indicated previously), from 7:30 till 9:30 (perhaps dressed in my Fab India best, if my mother succeeds in persuading me to dress like a cut-rate SRK–otherwise, look for the surly brown fellow with an uneven goatee)

contact details for tickets (and they are not cheap) are below:

UR students FREE, $24 UR employees, $32 adults Phone: 804.289.8980 Email: modlinarts@richmond.edu

A few days later, the servant loped upstairs and reported for duty. He was skinny, alarmingly so, with mahogany skin and sharp features. His name was Kailash, and he was 11 years old. This was a cultural difference that I was not prepared to accept.

Weiner clumsily avoids the relativist’s folly by boldly going where perhaps a million other travel writers have gone, “It’s strange to me and feels wrong, so I can’t accept it.” But, like many before him, Weiner must eventually capitulate:

I started downstairs to confront the landlord, but then hesitated. I rationalized that if this boy, an orphan from a neighboring state, didn’t work for me, he would work for someone else, and who knows how that person would treat him? Washing my hands of Kailash seemed like a cop-out, or so I told myself.

It was at this point that I remembered a similar strain of teeth-gnashing from a writer of yesteryear:

Take up the White Man’s burden– Ye dare not stoop to less– Nor call too loud on Freedom To cloke your weariness;

“What?,” you say. “Weiner was assigned the post–he had no choice about what cultural practices he could accommodate.” These things are true, however, it does seem as if Weiner saw this story as following a predetermined path:

I always imagined that our relationship would follow a linear, screenplay trajectory. Orphaned Indian boy has fateful meeting with bighearted American; boy struggles to overcome disadvantaged youth; boy finally perseveres and is eternally grateful for bighearted American’s help.

Kipling was less sanguine about the chances for progression along this storyline–the native, in his opinion, was sure to wreck the grand venture just as it became almost tangible:

And when your goal is nearest The end for others sought, Watch sloth and heathen Folly Bring all your hopes to nought.

Weiner, too, finds his narrative halted in the middle stage–the part where the native finds his own bootstraps and puts his back into the pulling, for him, is curiously absent:

But more than a decade after I left India, Kailash and I were stuck in the second act…. …Thanks to my quarterly wire transfers, Kailash lives in a tiny apartment in Delhi that is too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer.

Kipling too felt the native’s hopelessness and ascribes this failure to appreciate such genuine and altruistic assistance to the native’s ‘nature’:

Your new-caught, sullen peoples, Half-devil and half-child.

Kailash, ungrateful rakshasa-child nature notwithstanding, apparently proves Kipling to be right–the native will live forever on the good graces of others while complaining all the while and perhaps directing vile non-violent protest at the benevolent others:

Take up the White Man’s burden– And reap his old reward: The blame of those ye better, The hate of those ye guard– The cry of hosts ye humour (Ah, slowly!) toward the light:– “Why brought he us from bondage, Our loved Egyptian night?”

Weiner corroborates but supplies what may he think of as an original caveat:

I have raised his expectations, a dangerous thing in a country of more than a billion restive souls.

The tea room is too lofty a goal for the young man–how dare Weiner introduce the hope of a more profitable line of work into Kailash’s life! Why, left unattended by Vestern journalists, a boy like Kailash might grow up to be a proper street-sweeper some day!

I find the author’s tone unsettling–as if Kailash did not possess the wherewithal to realize that he had everything to gain and that a life of beatings over poorly made chapatis was not optimal. Intentions in this case, as usual, are good but what is the cost of thinking in this manner–that it takes a western journalist’s benevolent intervention to salvage the life prospects of a disadvantaged Indian child and that this kind of assistance will ultimately lead to welfare-grubbing,sepia-toned, outstretched hands?

The “White Man’s Burden” beckons though, with a Nostradamus-like confidence in forecasting the alleged incompetence of the subject native. Weiner cannot deviate from the storyline–his is a Quixotic tilt at cultural windmills that stifle economic advancement by conditioning the native to depending on foreign largesse:

“O.K., Kailash,” I said, looking at the handsome 23-year-old who has replaced the scrawny boy of years ago. “As you wish.”

or as Kipling put it:

Take up the White Man’s burden– Ye dare not stoop to less– Nor call too loud on Freedom To cloke your weariness; By all ye cry or whisper, By all ye leave or do, The silent, sullen feebles Shall weigh your gods and you.

I was surprised and deeply disappointed by Arun Gandhi’s recent opinion piece in the Washington Post blog, “On Faith.” I believe that his subsequent apology inadequately explains his stated views, which seem fundamentally inconsistent with the core values of the University of Rochester. In particular I vehemently disagree with his singling out of Israel and the Jewish people as to blame for the “Culture of Violence” that he believes is eventually going to destroy humanity. This kind of stereotyping is inconsistent with our core values and would be inappropriate when applied to any race, any religion, any nationality, or either gender.

University presidents are a curious breed, in large part tasked with finding big donors and implementing ‘big picture’ programs across entire educational institutions. As a result, they are sometimes easy targets for backlash–I remember the former President of my own alma mater, declaring at a commencement speech that all previous graduating classes amounted to “mush in, mush out” and was hounded from that post (directly into a cushy job in the Business School). It seems unlikely, however, that Mr. Seligman will face any sort of flak for his official statement on Arun Gandhi’s resignation.Examination of the original post does not seem to reveal a deep-seated hatred for world Jewry, as many of his critics in the comments section seems to suggest but a kind of benevolent academic buffoonery. Mr. Gandhi could have, however, made his comments a bit more nonspecific and less pointed–one doesn’t have to assume much to read the post and think Arun was simplistically blaming terrorism on the world’s Jewish population and accusing the same population of overplaying concerns which, in his opinion, have long exhausted their instructive content:

Jewish identity in the past has been locked into the holocaust experience — a German burden that the Jews have not been able to shed. It is a very good example of a community can overplay a historic experience to the point that it begins to repulse friends. The holocaust was the result of the warped mind of an individual who was able to influence his followers into doing something dreadful. But, it seems to me the Jews today not only want the Germans to feel guilty but the whole world must regret what happened to the Jews. The world did feel sorry for the episode but when an individual or a nation refuses to forgive and move on the regret turns into anger.

Taking the Norman Finklestein position certainly doesn’t help matters, as Finklestein found himself without a job due to the backlash generated by his strident condemnations of groups like the Anti-Defamation League, American Jewish Congress and individuals like Elie Wiesel and Alan Dershowitz for this alleged pimping of Holocaust suffering for material gain. It’s not a line that will start many conversations but rather many one-sided flames–even as a ‘thought experiment’ it seems too offensive to too many people to be a viable origin of constructive and instructive dialog. There are, however, some very obvious errors.

Gandhi’s statement is rife with analytical sinkholes: conflating Jewish identity with agreement with Israeli policy and actions, comparing the people of the occupied territories and Israel with fratricidal snakes, and creating a concept which he does not care to expand but quickly assigns to, “Israel and the Jews.”

The Jewish identity in the future appears bleak. Any nation that remains anchored to the past is unable to move ahead and, especially a nation that believes its survival can only be ensured by weapons and bombs. In Tel Aviv in 2004 I had the opportunity to speak to some Members of Parliament and Peace activists all of whom argued that the wall and the military build-up was necessary to protect the nation and the people. In other words, I asked, you believe that you can create a snake pit — with many deadly snakes in it — and expect to live in the pit secure and alive? What do you mean? they countered. Well, with your superior weapons and armaments and your attitude towards your neighbors would it not be right to say that you are creating a snake pit? How can anyone live peacefully in such an atmosphere? Would it not be better to befriend those who hate you? Can you not reach out and share your technological advancement with your neighbors and build a relationship? Apparently, in the modern world, so determined to live by the bomb, this is an alien concept. You don’t befriend anyone, you dominate them. We have created a culture of violence (Israel and the Jews are the biggest players) and that Culture of Violence is eventually going to destroy humanity.

It was here that my casual regard for Mr. Gandhi began to waver. What could he possibly think could be achieved by assigning blame to “the Jews” for a “culture of violence” that he doesn’t care to define? Especially if this “culture of violence” will bring an end to our world?

I had thought that proponents of non-violence would mostly speak in vague terms, extolling the virtues of non-violence over violence, invoking some sort of deity/divinity/saint to buttress their claims of the primacy of non-violent methods and leave it at that. How did Arun find his way into the very contentious topic of Israel? Again, I found a set of questions floating to the top of my mind:

1. Is non-violence really the best solution in all situations/contexts? If it is not, is there any point to stumping for the cause?

2. Is Arun Gandhi finished in the world of academic discourse? (if he ever inhabited it to begin with?)

3. Does the doctrine of non-violence, as espoused by Mahatma Gandhi, really represent the death of a Jewish state?

Arun Gandhi issued an apology after the initial uproar which addressed many of the points I raise above–however, I don’t believe for a second that it’s entirely sincere. He’s not apologizing for the sloppy analysis which pervades his original post, but correcting what he sees as misreadings of the same. Whatever the case, what he wrote initially will always be available to the net-going public and skeptics who do not buy his apology will forever abound.

Vijay Mallya’s UB group (Bangalore, 111.6 million) India Cements (Chennai, 91 million) GMR group (Delhi 84 million) Deccan Chronicle (Hyderabad, 107 million) a consortium led by Emerging Media(Manoj Badale, Lachlan Murdoch and investors) (Jaipur, 67 million) Shah Rukh Khan’s Red Chillies Entertainment (Kolkata, 75.09 million) Preity Zinta, Ness Wadia(Bombay Dyeing), Karan Paul & Priya Paul(Apeejay Surendera Group) and Dabur’s Mohit Burman (Mohali, 76 million) and Mukesh Ambani’s Reliance Industries Limited (Mumbai, 111.9 million)

.

All that we know, at present, are the owners and the likely competitors. What we don’t know is whether it will achieve the kind of balance between hometown talent and international stars to achieve lasting appeal–qualities that the ICL seemed to have exhibited.

I know the mutineer community loves a good name-off/caption-off, so I submit to you the task of naming these franchises. Foul or fair, Bucknor ornor Benson, this might be the beginning of a beautiful thing. I do fear greatly for the teams owned by entities as staid as “India Cement” and it is out of this very genuine concern that I submit the task of naming these franchises to the SM community.

I will offer a reward to the commenter who supplies my favorite team name: a choice of me wearing your favorite national side’s kit for a day, or a video of my best, back-of-the-hand, Muttiah Muralitharan impersonation.

(please note, literary beamers, bouncers, jatz cracker rockers and looping shies at the stumps are enthusiastically encouraged )

I often equate PETA with the crusader of my childhood, running into any ideological fray with shrill and often crass symbolic protestations of what they see as intolerable injustices. In the case of Jallikattu, however, I’m a bit more charitable towards their latest (via Newstab) stunt: blindfolding a statue of Gandhi in Coimbatore, to shield him from this rather pathetic scene:

To be clear, Jallikattu seems to involve no spears or other sharpened instruments used to slowly break the will of an animal better suited to eating/mating/sleeping than mortal combat and it is also very dissimilar to the American rodeo, where riders attempt to hold on for a few wretched seconds or lasso a smaller animal. It does, however, represent a set of questions for us all:

1. How effective can Ingrid Newkirk be in influencing the people who enjoy Jallikattu to gradually abandon this practice? I am permanently struck by the parallel of Margaret Sanger getting the semi-cold shoulder from Gandhi and finding a more sympathetic ear in Nehru and Tagore.

2. What does she think when she sees the villagers shouting and clapping and hopping with glee every time the bull nearly misses a jumki-snatching bravo?

3. If you disapprove, what organizations in India will stump for the bull? I certainly did not read about the Hindutva crowd running to rescue Nandi-ji from the spectacle or to break Ingrid out of jail.

4. If you don’t give a toss, or like a good bull-baiting, what’s the utilitarian value that one derives from this practice? There are innumerable adrenaline-generating activities to puff the chest, firm the upper lip and improve the posture that don’t involve a whiff of animal cruelty.

5. Descriptions of Jallikattu in the western press are beginning to incorporate charges of feeding alcohol to the bulls and introducing chilli powder to various orifices(nose, mouth, ears) in an effort to spice up the baiting. Is there any Jallikattu enthusiast who can verify this?

Personally, I hold no great love for the baiting of animals for sport/kicks/reaffirming your place in the food chain. I would be far more impressed if the participants were tangling with a Belgian Blue, an Elephant or Tatiana. But then, of course, there would have been far too many human deaths for the activity to be ongoing and popular.

Listen up desi parents: Bina Menon, a classical dance teacher from West Orange NY, has the magical cure to all your ‘heritage preserving’ needs. Indeed, according to the New York Times, a turn in one of her stage productions (portraying an animal of the forest) will do wonders for lifting the Vestern pop-culture cloud which descended over your child’s eyes as soon as he/she exited the womb.

Yes, I know, the reporter attributed the sentiment to Menon’s students, but what exactly could these young ‘uns have known about a heritage which was supposedly out of their grasp? Could this deep knowledge be imparted by scratching one’s arm-pit repeatedly? Or perhaps by miming the grooming ritual so fancied by wild-life photographers? Whatever the standard, this reporter unwittingly added fuel to the “All Things Come From India” fire by attributing an honorific desis know all too well

dancing with Bina-Auntie

to the Hindi crowd:

employing a Hindi term of endearment all her fellow dancers used for Ms. Menon

Okay, to be charitable to the reporter, and without sounding the Lemurian call to arms, perhaps this was really all about the dance. The one student who went on record, seems to confirm this:

“My parents brought me into dance when I was 5, and at first I wasn’t that into it,” said Teena Ammakuzhiyil, a lithe 20-year-old from Union who will play the wise monkey in “Ramayanam,” a production that 25 senior-level dancers from Ms. Menon’s Kalashri School will present on Jan. 27 at the Mayo Center for the Performing Arts in Morristown. “But it brought me back to my roots, dancing with Bina-Auntie,”

But the ‘roots’ return and the question bears asking, now that she has ‘found’ her roots, what’s left? Branching out into choreography? Founding her very own dance school? Perhaps she had better think twice:

The Kalashri School employs no other teachers because, as Ms. Menon says: “I haven’t seen anyone who can teach as well as I can. And I really want my students to be good at what they’re doing.

A display of bravado (apparently all the other teachers toiling away at instructing recalcitrant students better hang ‘em up) tempered by weak equivocation–sounds like the ‘heritage’ is being taught by example. Turning aside from the arrogance, I wondered:

1. What exactly constitutes ‘respect’ for your heritage?

2. Can a clumsy portrayal of a monkey mean that you’re disrespectful of said heritage (given that your chosen medium of ‘respecting’ is dance)?

3. Why do we entrust such an apparently important task, this cultural education, to strangers?

4. Bharatanatyam is suffused with Hindu mythology and the pieces are often set to Hindu songs and bhajans–what is it like for non-Hindu desis to be told that Muruga and Hanuman constitute your ‘heritage’ and that the creatures portrayed in the Ramayana will show your child all that you wish to impart about this ‘heritage’ that any honest teacher could not easily define?

The article continues with a few references to platitudes we’re familiar with, “fosters community,” “it’s so much more than dance,” and “Indian Dance feels more comfortable than…” These are the buzz-words, the talking points that classical dance instructors often use to describe and justify what is usually just another extracurricular activity for application-filling, college-going, high-school students. What does it mean to you?