Good art makes you think about lifelong questions. Great art answers them. The film Kumare did just that.
I've always found Westerners adopting and adapting Indian culture fascinating. Whether it's yoga, meditation, or chicken tikka masala, I've been generally confused why so many non-Indians in the US have been gravitating to activities they perceive as Indian.
Maybe the suspicion is borne of experience. Growing up as an Indian-American kid in the 1980s was not exactly a springboard to coolness. Mainstream America's perception of Indian-Americans seemed built around Kwik-E-Mart owners and elephants.
When high school hit, I noticed Indian "spirituality" finding its way into the more liberal factions in my school. I even dabbled in transcendental meditation and listened to my Dad's Ravi Shankar albums. In retrospect, this had nothing to do with my Indian heritage, and everything to do with me wearing Birkenstocks and collecting Grateful Dead bootlegs at the time.
....and then came yoga.
During college I kept hearing about this 'yoga' thing, and by the time I moved to New York, it was everywhere. What puzzled me was that I'd never heard any Indian relatives mention it. Our family is even Hindu and I've happily participated in my fair share of ritual, but never quite found myself doing crow in our living room with my parents.
I tried it a few times a decade ago and got uncomfortable when everyone started chanting Om and the (non-Indian) teacher started, I think, chanting a number of Sanskrit mantras. I'm about as far an authority on Indian spirituality and religion as you can get, but was this making a mockery of Hindu traditions? Was this how Jewish people felt watching Madonna practice Kabblah? Would a Southern Baptist find it as weird to watch my family start a gospel choir? I grew up hearing Indian parents complain about Hare Krishnas. Was a roomful of yoga students chanting, the same thing?
"India" has only gotten bigger over the past decade. Bollywood's big, everyone's been to an Indian wedding, we've had two Indian-American governors (though not quite how we probably expected), and yoga is so big that Lulu Lemon is worth over $9 billion. Almost every girl I know does yoga regularly, people have graduated from Tikka Masala to Vindaloo or Saag, and I've had a number of non-Indian friends travel to India (most of whom more likely experienced Delhi Belly instead of Nirvana).
And yes, I've found myself trying to do yoga once a week. The motivation isn't quite celestial though. I have an injured back and it's the only thing that gets me to stretch properly. Some things have changed. The Sanskrit mantras are still there, but there's now Death Cab for Cutie songs alongside chillout Indian instrumentals (think Ravi Shankar meets Cafe Del Mar). Many in the class appear genuinely peaceful or relaxed, yet there are few glares in this world as concerning and scary as a yoga girl forced to move her mat for a latecomer to the class.
My continued foray across enemy lines into the yoga studio only made me more skeptical of Eastern 'spirituality' in the West. Is it a bastardization of Indian culture or is it an overall positive and healing force?
As I walked out of Kumare I realized this question didn't matter. Weirdly, I was at peace. I didn't have an answer resolving yoga and Indian culture, but I really didn't care anymore. I'd completely been missing the point.
The movie is about an Indian-American who becomes a fictitious guru and tricks a bunch of Westerners (and even one Indian) to become followers of his. The film explores religion, spirituality, cults, and especially, what it means to be a teacher. It's hilarious, provocative, beautifully filmed, and not only am I recommending it, I'd happily take any of my 'yogi' friends to watch it.
I'm not sure everyone will have quite as intense a reaction as I did to Kumare, but it made a generally skeptical Indian-American, just a little less skeptical.
I've always found Westerners adopting and adapting Indian culture fascinating. Whether it's yoga, meditation, or chicken tikka masala, I've been generally confused why so many non-Indians in the US have been gravitating to activities they perceive as Indian.
Maybe the suspicion is borne of experience. Growing up as an Indian-American kid in the 1980s was not exactly a springboard to coolness. Mainstream America's perception of Indian-Americans seemed built around Kwik-E-Mart owners and elephants.
When high school hit, I noticed Indian "spirituality" finding its way into the more liberal factions in my school. I even dabbled in transcendental meditation and listened to my Dad's Ravi Shankar albums. In retrospect, this had nothing to do with my Indian heritage, and everything to do with me wearing Birkenstocks and collecting Grateful Dead bootlegs at the time.
....and then came yoga.
During college I kept hearing about this 'yoga' thing, and by the time I moved to New York, it was everywhere. What puzzled me was that I'd never heard any Indian relatives mention it. Our family is even Hindu and I've happily participated in my fair share of ritual, but never quite found myself doing crow in our living room with my parents.
I tried it a few times a decade ago and got uncomfortable when everyone started chanting Om and the (non-Indian) teacher started, I think, chanting a number of Sanskrit mantras. I'm about as far an authority on Indian spirituality and religion as you can get, but was this making a mockery of Hindu traditions? Was this how Jewish people felt watching Madonna practice Kabblah? Would a Southern Baptist find it as weird to watch my family start a gospel choir? I grew up hearing Indian parents complain about Hare Krishnas. Was a roomful of yoga students chanting, the same thing?
"India" has only gotten bigger over the past decade. Bollywood's big, everyone's been to an Indian wedding, we've had two Indian-American governors (though not quite how we probably expected), and yoga is so big that Lulu Lemon is worth over $9 billion. Almost every girl I know does yoga regularly, people have graduated from Tikka Masala to Vindaloo or Saag, and I've had a number of non-Indian friends travel to India (most of whom more likely experienced Delhi Belly instead of Nirvana).
And yes, I've found myself trying to do yoga once a week. The motivation isn't quite celestial though. I have an injured back and it's the only thing that gets me to stretch properly. Some things have changed. The Sanskrit mantras are still there, but there's now Death Cab for Cutie songs alongside chillout Indian instrumentals (think Ravi Shankar meets Cafe Del Mar). Many in the class appear genuinely peaceful or relaxed, yet there are few glares in this world as concerning and scary as a yoga girl forced to move her mat for a latecomer to the class.
My continued foray across enemy lines into the yoga studio only made me more skeptical of Eastern 'spirituality' in the West. Is it a bastardization of Indian culture or is it an overall positive and healing force?
As I walked out of Kumare I realized this question didn't matter. Weirdly, I was at peace. I didn't have an answer resolving yoga and Indian culture, but I really didn't care anymore. I'd completely been missing the point.
The movie is about an Indian-American who becomes a fictitious guru and tricks a bunch of Westerners (and even one Indian) to become followers of his. The film explores religion, spirituality, cults, and especially, what it means to be a teacher. It's hilarious, provocative, beautifully filmed, and not only am I recommending it, I'd happily take any of my 'yogi' friends to watch it.
I'm not sure everyone will have quite as intense a reaction as I did to Kumare, but it made a generally skeptical Indian-American, just a little less skeptical.
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