“The innate allure of the “gora-face”, as many of my Caucasian friends tell me they are referred to by Indians, is not only embodied in the hawkers who make it a point to whisper to me “Oh come on! Stop haggling on their behalf; let us earn”, but in the elite too who consider bringing a “foreign” friend to a wedding an auspicious thing. Reducing the unassuming foreigner to the status of a lucky charm or PR tool as well as demeaning their fellow countrymen, and in turn themselves, quite unknowingly.”

the colorist shit that tushar is talking about is kind of a given, in my opinion, for anyone who knows anything at all about india. you know, like chicks with white vaginas are the star-bellied sneeches. my experience personally, in a city with a growing expat culture and a niche world of foreigners of indian origin, was that western-ness overall holds a very specific and explicit cache. i have not yet talked much about this, but i came to feel over time that the draw of being an expat in mumbai is the pedestal on which we are placed simply because our foreign passports make us a little less indian (even those of us with brown skin). an enduring symbol of this is the beautiful country club by the sea with the india-shaped swimming pool that once had a europeans only rule - complete with a “dogs and indians not allowed” sign - a legacy still apparent from its largely white clientele. watching the zeal and pride with which locals spend the day there as some expat’s +1 real really did it for me.

in my first months, it was i who waved to the doorman outside of nighttime hotspots and mouthed, “seven of us!” as he kindly opened the velvet rope for me and a group of indian girls. i’d be corralled by acquaintances into their circles and invited to their parties, always introduced with, “this is my friend from new york.” and that was it. i had won. that is, of course, until i started having a voice and being a person versus the body of a new yorker.

the american or european accent is a free pass into socialite status. you get be somebody. you exist in a small and exclusive scene that’s a mix of rich indians and foreigners of various shades. don’t get me wrong - it’s fun to be at the top. we all want a little taste of the good life, right? i just think, while sitting up there, we should be aware of what it’s all about.

h/t mabdo