My Philadelphia Story

The edited version of this article is found over at Sepia Mutiny. This version, my first draft, is twice as long and twice as annoyed/unfunny. Also twice as ineffective, according to the people who read it over for me. But, what the heck, here’s the initial response, for your edification.

Dear Ms. Miller,

On June 1, you posted a piece in The Huffington Post’s Living section called “How to Date an Indian (Advice for the Non-Indian.”) or as I like to call it “How to Drive Away Dates with Your Unbelievable Combination of Desperation and Ignorance.” Apparently, as someone whose bio states that she has “lived in Mumbai for three years,” and who is in a relationship with a man of Indian descent, you consider yourself well-qualified to advise the rest of the world on the best means to bag a brown man/woman. Or as you write, “my husband… is from New Delhi, which, in addition to providing me with lots of Indian friends and in-laws, have given me a pretty good perspective on the desirability of the people from the world’s largest democracy — and how to woo them.” Given your ventures in dating/relationship-based businesses (including a magazine and a dating website), I have to say I was misled into believing you had something relevant to say. Instead, I ended up laying on the floor, guffawing hysterically.

Let’s break down what you told folks in your article. Before we begin, I want to applaud you for not exoticizing and fetishizing brown people in a manner that detracts from a basic understanding and appreciation of another’s culture. Continue reading →