Friday started out with the news that I might interview Henry Kissinger, a man whose deeds and intellect I’m mightily afraid of. I was given the task because I’m always the earliest low-level employee to show up. Kissinger is considered old stuff by the established journalists I was working with – none of them could spare a moment of covering McCain’s upcoming speech to talk to the aging icon.

So I got the assignment. I had about three hours to prepare for my interview, which was not enough. I was assigned to ask only questions on Palin’s foreign policy experience, to plump up another reporter’s long-ish story on it.

When I arrived outside the restaurant, only one other reporter was there – Chuck Plunkett from the Denver Post. He told me he was nervous. I concurred.

We were eventually led in. There was Kissinger, planted on a black leather couch at the farthest corner of the restaurant. I sat next to him, Chuck on my other side. You can read what happened.

It was not a great interview, certainly one of the worst I’ve done. But then, he’s my first major subject, and it didn’t go terribly. I am hoping to score some time with him while I’m in Delhi, and prepare a lot more beforehand.

Speaking to him was like communing with a large, glistening brain. His sharpness was palpable, his empathy, not so much. He smiled a couple of times and made jokes, but mainly he was all business. It struck me how uncomfortable he was speaking outside of his “field of competence,” as he put it, that of foreign policy. But as soon as I introduced it – in the form of the India America nuclear deal – he visibly perked up. His speech was actually clearer.I had his resume fresh on my mind when I arrived, but all of the things he’d done sort of fled my brain as I sat next to him. It’s near impossible to have both experiences at once – a comprehensive understanding of a person’s life and a spontaneous discussion with said person.

It reminded me of something a Cuban expat told me during an interview. He had been forced to meet Fidel Castro in the 90s, when he went there as part of a medical team. Castro drove this man’s father out of the country and changed the course of his family’s history. But as he stood in front of Castro, now an old man, he felt nothing but pity.

I didn’t feel quite pity for Kissinger, nor awe. I felt like I was talking to any other stranger, this one old and German. There are moments in the interview where it’s clear I’ve forgotten who he is (I almost ask him if he’s ever been to India). I suppose I had to do that simply to calm my nerves. Someday, I hope, there will be enough depth to my own life and personality that I need not do that.

Immediately after Kissinger, I ran down to the floor to hold a spot for my photographer. The AP and Reuters photogs share the two center spots at all of these events – it seems it’s just a convention agreed upon by the other news groups – a little unfair, maybe, but nice for me, because I got to hover around the very front section with my guy every night.

I made sure the spot was secure, then headed to the California delegate section to meet Harmeet Dhillon, a delegate who is running for a position in the State Assembly of Dist. 13 in California (which includes the proudly liberal San Francisco).

I asked her what she thought of Palin, and she was resoundingly positive. When I brought up P’s beliefs in creationism, here’s what she said:

“As a Sikh, I believe in reincarnation. I don’t think people should not vote for me because of that. We have something called a constitution and first amendment rights. What she believes is not going to affect that.”

It had been brought up at the Indians for McCain dinner: religious values are a patently good quality in a person, even if they differ in particulars from one’s own. The significance of a religious politician isn’t about policy – which as Dhillon contends, religion can’t affect – but what it says about that person’s character. Palin, who has shown by example that she believes what she says she believes, is in Dhillon’s mind, a person of character.

I brought up the camp Dhillon’s family started, at which Amardeep Singh has taught, and she nodded a curt yes.

“Amardeep knows me.”

(I should point out: she was more intimidating in person than Kissinger.) She told me as a State Assembly member, she will take a vow never, under any circumstances, to raise taxes. And she will insist that California follow federal government standards.

Her explanation of why she holds an ACLU member card was uncannily like her defense of Palin’s ultra-Christian beliefs.

“I don’t agree with everything they believe in. But I think they are an important and necessary institution for protecting religious freedom.”

I like what that statement shows she has: the ability to hold two opposing views in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function, what F. Scott Fitzgerald called “the test of a first rate intelligence.”

Dhillon and her fellow Indian-American Republicans are very clear: they know they are different from the average republican, and even from the politicians they support – perhaps fundamentally different. But they say those differences – religious, social, intellectual – will not come in the way of the shared goals these groups have. And in that way they reconcile opposing realities. Indian and Republican.

I worked until 2 in the morning and couldn’t sleep until 4, I was so keyed up. This past week has been exhilirating, troubling, incomparable. I would do it again tomorrow.

I flew home and was “selected” for special screening, as I have been each time I’ve traveled in the past three months. This time I asked the woman why they aren’t upfront with their policy, calling it screening for people who look Middle Eastern, rather than “randomized.” She said I’d have to talk to the airline.

Standing aside to be checked as hundreds of white people walked through, uninterrupted, I felt bad. Like I’m not a part of the country in the way they are. It brought me back to a moment on the floor when some Texan delegates laughed that the protestors clearly have nothing better to do because,

“They’re democrats! Democrats don’t have jobs.”

I turned to them.

“I’m a Democrat and I have a job,”

“Well you’re the exception, honey! If you’re a Democrat and you have a job, you’re clearly a Republican!”

I got angry. They reminded me so much of the obnoxious white Republicans I’d grown up with in Texas, simplistic in their thinking, clad in expensive clothes and alienating. I reacted. I shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have said anything to begin with.

“I guess if you’re rude, you’re clearly a Republican too.”

It was horrible. I had no journalistic integrity left. I had let my feelings escape into the reality around me, the reality I am meant only to record. So as I stood there in the airport security line, remembering that, I tried also to remember the words of Fitzgerald, to keep in mind that this is my country too, this country of Republicans and Democrats, white people and Indians and black people and Native Americans, like the Ojibwa man who would sit next to me in an hour on the plane and tell me how his tribe’s reservation land has been stolen over decades, but even so – there are fierce Republicans and Democrats and mainstream thinkers among them. That we can be different and fight and still somewhere share a purpose. I tried in my mind to hold these two opposing thoughts, and to still function.

I didn’t ask as incisive questions as I should have. I was nervous, intimidated. I said stupid stuff. It’s really hard to hear him, although he perks up when he talks about India and sounds clearer, because it’s actually his line of work. Check it out.

Oh, and I’ll post the Dhillon interview tomorrow. Also notes from tonight’s floor. Too tired.

You may want to go ahead and skip to “Continue,” so you can read the transcript as the audio plays (I didn’t want to put the whole thing on this page – too long).

K=Kissinger M=Me/Mallika DRP=DenverPostReporter

M: I basically want to know how important you think foreign policy experience is in this election.

K: In what…general?

M: For the voters, yes.

K: Foreign policy is my field I spend all my life thinking about it so obviously I think it’s a key issue of our time.

M: Do you think Palin’s lack of foreign policy experience is something that should be thought about?

K: What?

M: Palin, Sarah Palin.

K: Until recently I thought that primarily about Obama’s lack of foreign policy experience, that that’s the more relevant issue when people are voting.

DPR: And does the Biden pick help satisfy any concerns about Barack Obama?

K: I have a high opinion of Biden. I’ve known him for a long time. Fundamentally the president makes the decisions, not the vice president.M: A lot of people say that’s changing, that the vice presidential role…

K: Leaving aside the immediate (administration?) I’ve now seen the administrations since Eisenhower, there’s no exception to the rule that the president makes the final decision and that the president determines the direction. The vice president can be helpful, usually it’s a thing subject of limited duration that they do. In my observation usually it’s sort of the pinch hitters, pinch runners and advisors to the president.

M: As maybe McCain’s first presidential decision, choosing Palin, what do you think that means? How significant is it?

K: It means that he’s a man who’s prepared to think out of the box. That he’s willing to do courageous and daring things.

M: To what end? What does Palin give him?

K: Look I am not participating in the political something or other that’s not my field, but it obviously has energized a lot of people on the Republican side but also has created the image of a leader who’s willing to do unorthodox things to show that he needs to change the direction of America.

DPR: On that point, have you ever seen a vice presidential pick so electrify the party, so unite a party or energize a party?

K: Well, I’ve never seen it in any party and I was talking when I was on BBC, I was told that the impact in Britain of the appointment, of her speech, was electrifying.

M: Really?

K: But you can check that…

DPR: Right I saw that on the internet. So you’ve not seen it in either party. Did it surprise you?

K: Yes.

M: Did you have clear expectations for the speech, or were you…?

K: Of what the Vice President should say? No.

M: No.

DPR: How important do you think Palin will be to the ticket then?

K: How effective will she be? I can only judge by the moment, by the impact she has already had (can’t hear).

M: I have some Indian readers, I write for something else, and they actually wanted me to ask you what you think about the Indian American nuclear deal.

K: Thank god somebody’s asking me a question in my field.

M: Laugh laugh. They had a lot of questions actually in your field. I picked that one though.

K: I’m going to India actually.

M: Are you? Okay. Where are you going? I’ll be there.

K: Will you?

M: Yeah I’ll be in Delhi.

K: I will be in Delhi and in Hyderabad

M: Okay. (Now I say something ridiculous.) My father teaches in Hyderabad.

K: And maybe Bangalore.

M: (This one is even more bad). Have you be…you’ve been.

K: Um. The Indian American nuclear deal. It’s been sort of an interesting experience looking at it because very clearly it’s in India’s advantage, but it has been blocked until now by Indian domestic politics. That’s the principle obstacle, and the imminence of an Indian election and the complicated arithmetic that that dictates. It looks to me now that as if it’s going through and I believe it will be (not sure) bring our countries much closer together.

M: I know McCain, a lot of Indians have raised money specifically for McCain because he supports it. I’ve talked to many of them.

K: Well I have supported it from day one.

M: I know.

K: And they’re not raising money for me.

M: Ahahaha. I’ll…I’ll encourage that.

DPR: Apparently today in Obama’s meeting with the O’Reilly Factor, he said that he felt that the surge had been wildly effective, and that’s a departure from statements he’s made in the past. What does that statement tell you about what we’re going to see between now and the general election, and how do you rate him saying it’s wildly effective now?

K: You have to judge people not by any one statement they make but by what it says about the conception of the issue they’re dealing with, and the time to judge these statements is when the outcome is not clear. And so that the progression from opposing the surge, instead of saying it’s somewhat successful to it’s wildly successful has to be taken into consideration.

DPR: Well how do you judge that? Is that just playing politics?

K: No but it means that’s instinctive judgment.

M: What would you call it?

K: Look I don’t want to get involved.

M: No, the surge.

DPR: The surge.

K: Oh the surge?

M: Yeah the surge.

K: I think the surge was the right strategy. It has been successful. You have to guard against the danger of saying everything can be done sequentially. In other words, in order to maintain the success we have to maintain provinces that protect the keep. We can’t say because it will be successful now we can head out. We have to protect it for some period, the results of the success.

K: Okay?

M: Um. When I’m in Delhi, can I interview you?

K: Well, you can try.

M: Can I try?

K: Yeah you can try.

M: How should I try?

K: Because I tell you when I’m in Delhi.

M: You’re very busy?

K: I’m…I’m busy, yeah.

M: Um. How should I try?

K: That’s a good question.

M: Ha. It’s my final question.

K: Get in touch with my office.

K: We used to have an ambassador in India who used to say, when I arrived at the airport, he would come with a big sign that said, “How about 71?” So that then the Indians feel the question has been asked.

M: That’s great.

K: Then they don’t have to ask it again.

M: Maybe I’ll do that about the Indian American nuclear deal.

K: You do that.

M: Thank you so much.

K: It was nice to see you.

Please note that my father is so far the only one who has commented on it (he tends to do that :]).

To sum it up, a bunch of Indian-Americans (and many others here) thought the convention was actually happening in Minneapolis. That’s because both cities are technically hosting (neither is capable of accommodating the crowds on its own). But they’re both hosting it in name only, because EVERYTHING happens in St. Paul.

When I went to the Indo-American dinner Tuesday, it was in Minneapolis. I wondered at that; it takes a good forty minutes to get out there from the Xcel Center.

Once everyone was leaving the dinner, I realized what had happened. Practically all of these guys are staying in Minneapolis, and let me tell you – that trek is frustrating to make. Public transportation in the Twin Cities is not nearly extensive enough to manage it, plus a large area around the convention is blocked off to anything but registered vehicles (I was originally staying with a newspaper lady out in Minn., but Reuters switched me to their hotel complete with direct shuttle after it took me THREE HOURS to come in on Monday. In fairness, the buses were riding on holiday schedule).

People staying in Minnesota are usually without car and generally not allowed on the shuttles – which tend to be for delegates or press. So they’re taking cabs. That adds up to about $50 bucks a day. No small price to pay, but they love McCain.Kishan Putta, national director of Indians for McCain, told me he squeezed five people “Indian style” into the last cab he took, to make the cost worthwhile.

I won’t give away the secret of why staying in Minneapolis ended up being the most exciting decision they could have made. You’ll have to read my Rooters post for that.

“Thank you. It’s important to keep some of yourself.”

It was a poignant thing to hear out there in that sea of white people. Each time I spotted a fellow brown, I felt as though I were viewing myself as a child, alone in a Dallas public school, sure that no one could understand me or my family, and especially not the country we had come from.

But Gaekwad had it right. As I reported yesterday, these pro-McCain Indian Americans have India at heart when they support him. That they can join forces with people so dissimilar from them is unnatural, and nice. They do it with gusto.

I met Swadeep Nigam, a delegate from Las Vegas. He was excited about Palin. I asked him what he thought about the grandchild and he told me we all have problems in our families. He praised her as one more in a line of women politicians – listing off Indira Gandhi and China’s Annette Lu as some others. Here’s Nigam, looking proud:

Gaekwad found me later and made a point to introduce me to Charlie Crist, governor of his home state, Florida (Did I tell you G is an honorary county sherrif back home? When I asked him how he managed to swing that, he said if you get involved, people will start to give you things.) That was a sort of awkward meeting, seeing as Gaekwad could say nothing to Crist save that I work (temporarily) for “Rooters.” But it was very uncle-ish and cute.

Before I continue, I have to say some quick things about Palin’s speech – though there was nothing Desi about it. Is it just me, or is she an awful lot like Tina Fey? I don’t just mean looks, though the similarity is striking:

It’s also the quippiness. Palin’s biting lines (Listening to [Obama] speak, it’s easy to forget that this is a man who has authored two memoirs but not a single major law or reform – not even in the state senate and My fellow citizens, the American presidency is not supposed to be a journey of “personal discovery,” to name two). Each time she let loose one of her zingers, women around me sighed, “I love her.” At one point, a man said it in the same way, and that’s when I knew she’d done it. I think this could create the same sort of mild (and probably temporary) upswing for McCain that Fey’s pro-Clinton appearance on SNL did for Hillary.

And now, for the big swing back. Tomorrow I’ll be interviewing another woman politico – this one an Indian. She’s Harmeet Dhillon from San Francisco and she’s running for the California State Assembly.

While at Dartmouth College in the 80s she took on what she saw as inappropriate political correctness by a music professor of hers who held forth in class on his liberal views. She published a transcript of the guy’s class on the front page of the conservative Dartmouth Review, which she wrote for. It landed her on 60 minutes.

Here’s a video of her explaining the whole thing in an interview.

I’m excited to talk to her. She’s sharp. And unpredictable – she is a board member of the ACLU.

Till next time, M

The first man I spoke with was Prakash Puram, a staunch Republican since 1978, when Republican senators helped him get a visa for his mother. He told me this:

“The Democrats didn’t help me at all. And the Republicans who helped me said, ‘Remember this when you grow up. Do something for the party.’”

The Republicans were smart. They got a donor for life.

He likes them for other reasons too, he hastened to tell me, because they believe in the values of religion and family (every one of the people I interviewed said the same thing). When I asked him if the Republican emphasis on Christianity bothers him at all, he told me that religion of any kind is good.

Puneet Ahluwalia was there, a business partner of George Allen’s. On Allen’s macaca moment, he had this to say:

“I think Biden should be famous for the donuts thing, and Hillary for the Gandhi at the gas stations. With Allen, it was just a word. I know him so well. He didn’t mean it.”

Ahluwalia said he was one of the few people who emphasized Allen’s record of supporting the US India nuclear treaty (a point nearly everyone there mentioned in McCain’s favor as well), when the macaca hit the fan. He worked out of Allen’s campaign office and now partners with him as a consultant for IT businesses.

The event was full of big-shots like him, one of them – a Dr. Sambhu N. Banik – was appointed a member of the President’s Committee for People with Intellectual Disabilities in June. By Bush himself. Banik insisted I stand in front of his hotel while he ran up to get pictures of him with Bush Sr. and George W., and one of his wife with McCain. Women were conspicuously absent. The three who were there told me McCain has a long way to go in appealing to women, specifically Indians. But Obama was too suspiciously charming for one of them, an employee at the Pentagon who didn’t want to give out her name. She told me he reminds her too much of Bono.

I heard some choice quotes at the event, namely:

“I’m just a regular heart transplant surgeon during the day. This is what I do for fun.”

The constant refrains were that Indians have a lot to gain by lower taxation of the wealthy, and that McCain stands for outsourcing and India’s nuclear power. Banik told me his children are democrats, but that it was a philosophy borne of youth, and one they would grow out of.

One thing about the event: there were a lot of Jews. The American Jewish Committee, a bipartisan, pro-Israel group, was there in full force, with an Indian Jew leading the charge. They had gone to the Denver convention, and there too, partnered with Indians. They talked a lot about the cultural similarities between Indians and Jews, a favorite topic of my father’s. Indians like education; Jews like education. Indians are a relatively successful minority; Jews are a relatively successful minority. Indians tend to be short; Jews…you get it. Here’s a picture of two AJC members – the Indian man told me this Jewish man beside him is his guru.

On one level the event delivered what was to be expected: brown counterparts of rich, white men. But there was a more layered side to it: nearly all of them told me they just want Indians to participate. Whether republican or democratic, it didn’t matter. It is important, they said, that we have a voice.

“It’s not the fault of our parties, it’s the fault of our own,”

said one Digvijay Gaekwad, a member of the royal family of Baroda , and brother to a famous cricket player (I wanted to link to him, but there are a couple of Gaekwad cricketers, and I’m not sure which one he is). He had a distinct understanding of what political involvement can garner:

“Under the name of God we’re willing to pay six figures, but under the name of politics we never sign a check. And everywhere in the world – Trinidad, Kenya – we are suffering. If everyone gave a few bucks to the candidate they like, we’d all have a little political insurance. It’s important, but unfortunately, Indians only come out when there’s food involved.”

Gaekwad was one of the many there who attended the 2004 convention in New York. He said they made sure to offer a big spread there, just as they had here (the event was held at an Indian restaurant owned by a McCain supporter – the food was delicious).

Like every other supporter I talked to, these guys think the Palin mess will blow over. And they believe McCain is their man (though a couple of them were for Romney and Giuliani in the primaries – one of them raised $50,000 for Giuliani’s campaign – he told me a lot of his donors were Indian democrats who he persuaded; “Where was I going to find Indian republicans?” he asked me. I pointed around us.).

“The other guy” was how they referred to Obama. The other guy is not the answer. He will raise taxes and hurt India.

That’s how they began and ended the dinner. Fiercely free-market and small government. Happily traditional. Gleamingly wealthy. And whether you agree with their politics, the image they projected was a powerful one. One of men (and some women) using their money and time to further causes they believe in. Causes that were essentially about being Indian. Ahluwalia told me:

“Indians confuse democrats with democracy. But what we are for is democracy. Freedom to be who we are.”

“I don’t think it’ll have an effect on elections. I think Palin’s daughter’s choice to have her baby will ring true with Americans.”

Weber says he has spoken to many delegates from many states, all of whom say this hasn’t shaken their faith in the McCain/Palin ticket; instead, Weber said, they feel this is proof that the pro-life conviction can be put into action by anyone in any sphere of life. That view is shared by James Dobson, founder of the conservative Focus on the Family. According to an NPR story, he:

“commending the Palins ‘for not just talking about their pro-life and pro-family values, but living them out even in the midst of trying circumstances.’ He added: ‘Being a Christian does not mean you’re perfect. Nor does it mean your children are perfect. But it does mean there is forgiveness and restoration when we confess our imperfections to the Lord.’”

It’s an interesting premise, a twist on the Obama-eschewed-a-high-paying-corporate-law-job-to-help-the-people or McCain-suffered-in-a-POW-camp-he-knows-the-horrors-of-war. Here it’s Palin who has chosen belief over facility (though it undoubtedly would have been much worse had the story of her teenage daughter’s abortion broke). Will she lose McCain supporters for standing by her daughter through a teen pregnancy? Probably not. Will she gain fence-sitters for sticking to her principles? It’s not clear. But in my opinion, this can’t alienate Palin from voters any more than her strange resume already might.

That’s just my opinion though.

I’ll be headed to a Ron Paul rally later today, which I hope to post about. My laptop has a virus on it, so I can’t post a picture I have of some Paulites doing their thing in front of MSNBC cameras, but I plan on posting all the pics I’ve taken so far tonight, using the hotel computer.

That kind of practicality is pretty much the attitude shared by the rest of the convention. The hurricane itself is treated not so much as a reality here as it is a political device, part of the strange tableau that began at the DNC when the Clintons delivered so magnificently. The overriding sentiment (at least in the Reuters camp) is that this is a good thing, news-wise. Will the Republican Party use this opportunity to distance itself from Bush’s divisive legacy, promising a new era marked by restraint and candor? Or will the toned-down convention be a let-down – a sparse preview that leaves Americans bored? Either way, the news will be interesting. Way to go, hurricane.
Of course, the big upset for me is that Bobby Jindal is a definite no-show. He didn’t send in a speech like some of the other governors who aren’t here, which is…well…commendable, considering he really should be focusing on his home state right now. So in that sense, at least all is in perspective.

The other big news here is today’s anti-war protest-turned-melee. The National Guard was called out to deal with the more than 150 “violent” protestors, who pushed a flaming Dumpster into an occupied cop car, threw rocks at police officers, and were eventually pepper sprayed by the cops (many of the self-proclaimed “anarchist” protestors were wearing gas masks). Only one officer was signicantly injured by the mob – punched in the back, according to St. Paul’s police chief. The National Guard was called out, but that was all part of the police force’s “initial” plan for this week, Chief Harrington told us at a press briefing. The word “initial” was an interesting choice – makes me think the NG was thought of at the very beginning of the brain-storming process and then ditched. The St. Paul police force knew all this would happen – over the weekend they burst into homes and confiscated barrels of urine (the contents of which would have been used as bombs??? –>straight from the Police Chief’s mouth). How’d the police have such uncanny foresight? They attended the planning meetings advertised online by the anarchists.

(V. organized anarchists.)

Word on the street here is that McCain will definitely show, but we’ll see. For now, at least, what we know for sure is that hundreds of red, white and blue balloons are sure to be dropped. And that too, in front of a computerized red, white and blue screen. Pretty snazzy stuff.

It seems banks are sprouting up in the US that cater specifically to Indians, according to this Hindustan Times article, which says a dozen such already exist. Indians sans credit history who might be viewed unfavorably at the big banks – where sub-prime angst runs thicker than unclarified butter – turn to these Amma and Appa joints to be properly judged.

Sushil Patel, son of Chan Patel (founder, president, chairman and CEO of the State Bank of Texas) explains:

“Ethnic banks avoid bad loans as they take decisions based on factors like culture, background, social status. They are able to judge a person’s character better than regular American banks, who don’t know their clients as well. We are able to check the guy’s character because of the close-knit Indian community in the US.”

Hmm. So the aggressive pursuit of social standing produces real results these days, not just the downfall of budding young novelists.

The concept seems a bit like microlending in that it gives a chance to people who need it and can’t get it. Only instead of reducing risk by micro-ing the loan, this system pads itself by macro-ing the assessment. It’s a crowdsourcing model along the lines of the Wiki, where the wisdom of a group – in my case, the Kannadiga community in Dallas – acts as a legitimate reference point. I’m not quite sure the ins and outs of how one is judged, but I imagine it could go something like: “Her grandfather was a government officer with my father back in Coimbatore. I think she’s good for it.”

It creeps me out, but I think it’s sort of brilliant. And apart from what I think, it seems to be working.

Chan’s State Bank of Texas is running a major operation, with $500 million in assets and more than $175 per share. Three-quarters of its loans so far have been made to minorities, and it’s projecting more than $85 million in loans for the upcoming years, again, mostly for minorities (all this on its website).

The article cites the richest among the banks to be the Mutual Bank of Chicago, which boasts assets worth $1.35 billion (still a good 1,000 times smaller than the Bank of Amrika).

The Mutual Bank’s site is not nearly so forthcoming about its Indo-American agenda as are the Texas Patels, although it does have a section solely on “rupee remittance to India.” It is, however, on Devon Ave., which is akin to tattoing oneself in white, orange and green laddus. Not too far from it is the Devon Bank, which uses Muslim Sharia law in its lending practices.

The point here is not however, that these banks are targeting South Asians. That concept is not new, as the string of Laredo Banks in Texas proves. The point is that an abstract and central (and often depressing) reality of our ex-patriatic life is being capitalized on. It appears in the bulk of literature and movies we South Asians produce. It drives so many of our conversations. It is this simple fact: that in our communities – from Gibraltar to Kenya to Peoria, IL, in communities 1,000 to 10,000 strong – we can’t hide. We know everything about everyone. Who better to judge whether Such-and-Such Murthy deserves a $30,000 loan than all of us?

The loans seem intended for newly landed Indians, but with banks in straits as dire as they are, ABDs with no credit history to their name – like, well, me – could conceivably find themselves in Chan Patel’s worthy establishment asking to be floated that first down payment.

I assume I’d pass the background check. Then again, what if no one likes me?

And now, my post:

The city of Bangalore has banned dancing and live music in places that serve alcohol, according to this Indian Express article here.

And according to this friend of mine here:

one Abhi M., who along with famed playwright Girish Karnad and 100 other people, protested the outmoded rule. Karnad spaketh thus:

“It is tyranny of the police. It is against every artiste. Instead of going after criminals the police are going after musicians.”

[Note: Karnad's first two lines rhyme. A true artiste, that one.]

Apparently Bangalore officials have decided to enforce a part of the decades-old Karnataka Excise Law that prohibits live music and dancing in places that sell alcohol. (Used to be, only the section barring women from dancing was enforced, which led critics to hire dancing eunuchs in bars across the city this past February. Too bad that wouldn’t even be clever this time around.)

Abhi tells me,

“it’s an outdated law that’s being dug up by immature and backward-thinking bureaucrats and cops.”

But those Bs and Cs have their defenses. Says Bangalore’s Police Commissioner in an NDTV article:

“There is no [dance] ban on discos. They have to obtain a license and they can function.”

The article goes on to say however, that not one such license has been granted in the past four years to the many places that have requested them, according to sources in the police department.

The law is being used to temper progress, and the upshot is that the city is confused. I saw it myself two years ago.

My family is from Bangalore, and we’ve been back many times. Until recently, the visits revolved around seeing old people, the oldest members of our family tree who held the roots in their hands. We ate chakli and listened to talk of the city becoming dustier, the weather apparently degrading to levels higher than balmy, and the comings and goings of cousins I didn’t know.

And then something magical happened. My cousin Vijay – who I did know – nabbed a job at Accenture and headed to its largest hub. That’s right, I know you know it: Bangalore.

Giddy with the shock of being near fellow “engsters,” I trotted wide-eyed alongside Vijay that first night out in the city, my very first night out in all those years of visiting it. We pub-hopped and told stories. I met his many friends, all of whom were smart, funny, attractive and nice. The city seemed made for them and they for it and ne’er the two would not meet. Until….

11:30. That good ol’ excise law again, my friends. At half past 11, Vijay and his friends informed me, all fun stops. The bars close and people are sent home. What had been a normal late-night scene became a sleazy Scar Face-esque run-around where we ducked into the back rooms of bars we knew would serve us past midnight if we slid extra bills their way, while all around us less rupee endowed customers were forced to leave. New Year’s Eve – a week later – would prove to be worse than all the other nights, with the city enforcing an 11 o’clock closing time to make absolutely certain no hooliganry could ensue.

I felt like I was back at my aged relatives’ places, only this time I was partying surreptitiously in their stairwells while they slept.

I love my kin, please don’t mistake me. They make me understand my life. But I don’t think they represent the direction of the city. In fact, I don’t think they want to. It is a place that has experienced almost unmanageable growth, like a boy who shoots up two feet when he’s already 17 (I’ve seen it happen). It’s gangly and awkward and just starting to realize, “Hey! I look good now! And people want to date me!”

The solution to growing attractive is not to close oneself off, at least not in my opinion. Banning music and dance backpedals against the flow of Bangalore’s greatness, against the idea of why it is good for poor people to make money and have toilets. If one is working, one should also be dancing.

I have no doubt these kinks will work themselves out as Bangalore’s youth gains more control. But for now, a world-famous business center fears the sort of revelry and energy that inevitably comes with progress, and that, I think, is too bad.