DYING TO WATCH AN INDIAN SHOW

I had never heard of the hit British comedy series "The
Kumars at No 42," but according to a BBC article, it
features an Indian family. That itself is enough to excite
me, for I hardly ever get to see Indians on American
television, except when CNN shows them rioting.

Sure, a few Indian actors have recently appeared on
prime-time shows, but that hardly compensates for all those
years of neglect, when deprived Indians had to resort to
watching "The Simpsons" and praying for an appearance by
Apu. (The "Apu takes a bride" episode still stands as the
greatest Indian moment on American TV. In second place: "Apu
almost gets deported," an episode that inspired thousands of
Indian-Americans to become immigration lawyers.)

Wouldn't it be great to watch a show that revolves around
Indian characters, focusing on their everyday lives, not
just their weddings and immigration woes?
After all, Indian-Americans, one of the fastest growing
ethnic groups, are almost two million strong -- and not all
of them spend their nights watching Bollywood movies. (Some
spend their days.)

But the TV networks have not only overlooked the Indian
market, they've given little representation to Asians as a
whole. Rather than putting one Asian show on prime-time TV,
CBS prefers two versions of the news magazine "60 Minutes,"
NBC prefers three versions of the drama "Law & Order," and
ABC prefers four versions of the ongoing mystery "Where's
Osama hiding today?"

Meanwhile, "The Kumars at No 42," starring Sanjeev Bhaskar,
is a cult success in Britain, the BBC article says. Bhaskar
acts as a talk show host whose studio is attached to his
family's house, allowing his parents and grandmother to
interrogate his guests, mostly real-life British celebrities
whom Americans have never heard of.

As I read the article on "The Kumars," I am surprised to
learn that NBC has purchased the U.S. screen rights to the
show's idea, outbidding Fox. At first, I can't believe my
eyes. Surely there must be a misprint. Surely NBC isn't
interested in a show that features Indians, especially since
the Indians spend most of their time talking, not doing
something immoral or illegal. How in heaven's name does NBC
expect to attract younger viewers?

But it's true: NBC has bought the rights to the show and
doesn't plan to turn the Kumars into a group of oversexed
villains. Instead -- and here's the part that infuriates
me -- NBC plans to turn them into Mexican-Americans. Yes,
the U.S. version of "The Kumars" may be known as "The
Kumaros."

You want to know what I think of NBC's idea? I think it
stinks. I have nothing against Mexican-Americans, but if the
show works in Britain with Indians, why not try it in
America with Indians, too? Why deprive Vijay Amritraj of
another acting opportunity?

Granted, Mexican-Americans outnumber Indian-Americans, but
who says ALL Americans wouldn't be interested in watching a
show that features Indians? After all, "Seinfeld," my
favorite sitcom, attracted a diverse audience, not just
Jewish-Americans. And "Roseanne," another successful comedy,
appealed to almost everyone, not just fat people.

Whenever the U.S. version of "The Kumars" is televised --
perhaps in a year or two -- I can guarantee you one thing: I
won't be watching.

Hey, someone has to protest.

GANDHI STILL LEADS THE WAY

In the excellent PBS documentary "The New Americans," an
Indian computer programmer named Anjan Bacchu seems to be
enjoying the benefits of a higher salary in America, taking
his wife on a shopping spree and stepping into a more
materialistic lifestyle. But while other shoppers are asking
themselves questions such as "Is this laptop light enough?"
and "Does this dress make me look fat?" Bacchu is troubled
by an even weightier question: What would Gandhi do?

The question is similar to what many Christians ask
themselves -- What would Jesus do? -- as well as what many
British people ask themselves -- What would Beckham do?

I couldn't help sympathizing with Bacchu, imagining his
doubts about every purchase: Would Gandhi drive a Toyota or
a Cadillac? Would Gandhi watch movies on a DVD player or a
VCR? Would Gandhi wear boxers or briefs? (Gandhi was a
lawyer -- he probably preferred briefs.)

It isn't easy living up to the ideals of Mahatma Gandhi, a
man renowned for pacifism and self-sacrifice, but people
like Bacchu are giving it their best shot, even in America.
They'll probably never go on a fast, but they'll at least
try fast food. They'll probably never use a spinning wheel,
but they'll at least try to spin their wheels. They'll
probably never attempt celibacy, but they'll at least try
celery.

Yes, it's hard to even come close to some icons. But
thankfully, there are a few areas of life in which emulating
Gandhi may be simple, as the African National Congress,
South Africa's ruling party, wants people to realize. Hoping
to win the general election, the ANC has distributed posters
carrying a picture of the Mahatma and the all-important
question: "Who would Gandhi have voted for?"

It's probably not a question many South Africans have
contemplated, but Gandhi's granddaughter Ela Gandhi is
confident that the Mahatma, who spent more than two decades
in South Africa, would have supported the ANC, seeking the
best interests of the poor. That may be true, but it seems
unfair to other parties that the ANC has managed such a
coup -- getting an endorsement from the dead. Shouldn't they
at least be required to organize a séance?

I mean, what's to stop the Democratic Party from enlisting
Gandhi's help in disparaging President Bush, posing
questions such as "How many millionaires would Gandhi have
helped?" and "Which country would Gandhi have invaded?"

Before long, Gandhi would be appearing on millions of signs
and posters, lending his support to all sorts of causes. At
an animal activists rally: "What would Gandhi eat?" At a
marriage counselor's office: "Who would Gandhi divorce?" At
a Las Vegas casino: "How much would Gandhi bet?" At a boxing
arena: "Who would Gandhi knock out?" At a telemarketers
convention: "Whose dinner would Gandhi disturb?"

Various advertisers would doubtless get in the act.
SouthWest Airlines: "How would Gandhi fly?" MasterCard: "How
would Gandhi buy?" Crisco oil: "How would Gandhi fry?"

Kroger: "Where would Gandhi get his food?" Wal-Mart: "Where
would Gandhi get his clothes?" ESPN: "Where would Gandhi get
his scores?"

It's a good thing Gandhi was cremated, or else he'd surely
be rolling in his grave.