American Desis Podcast Explores Internalized Racism with Comedian Neel Nanda

This week’s American Desis podcast explored the life story and journey of twenty-five-year-old comedian Neel Nanda, an Indian-American from Alpharetta, Georgia who, as listeners later learn, knows how to make a statement.

This week’s American Desis podcast explored the life story and journey of twenty-five-year-old comedian Neel Nanda, an Indian-American from Alpharetta, Georgia, who, as listeners later learn, knows how to make a statement.

Nanda begins with the start of it all: his parents’ immigration journey to Georgia, where his parents “found all the Indians.” There, he tells of how involved his family was in simulating a cultural upbringing for him, as they all engaged in a large community of aunties, uncles, poojas, and other cultural norms.

But as his family became more and more involved in the desi community, Nanda used the opportunity to find an alternative path as a musician. He recalls studying jazz and rock and roll and “living as a rebel.” To him, music was a passion, and a sweet escape. To his parents, it was something they did not understand, or something they just did not want to; they openly dismissed it as a “phase.”

Nanda then goes on to tell the story of when he wanted to get his first guitar to experience to feeling of playing music, to which his father remarked, “Why do you want to play guitar, why aren’t you playing math?” Nanda’s father, although a graduate of Georgia Tech, was “stuck with his 1950s villager mentality.”

On his upbringing and community, Nanda mentioned that he was simply different from the Indian boys his age, as they were into things like video games and he just was not. Although he attended religious events with his family, he did not feel much of a connection there—so he distanced himself. “I didn’t have a resentment towards poojas, just boredom,” he explained.

It was not until high school or so where he officially renounced Hinduism. When sharing this news with his parents, they said, “You don’t have a choice… you can’t not be Hindu. It’s in your blood.” For them, Hinduism was intertwined with culture—to renounce one meant renouncing it all. But Nanda was set on his decision and thought to provide an example: “I avoided garba…I do not wanna stick dance. I don’t enjoy it—I wanted to go practice guitar.”

When Nanda attended college in Atlanta, he avoided Indian people at all costs—which is around the time his comedy career kickstarted. There, he dated many girls, most of whom were predominantly white.

“[In college], I had a girlfriend…like an idiot.” On his choice in partners, he boldly stated, “I wouldn’t personally date an Indian girl. Never wanted to, never been attracted to, never pursued…it’s definitely a choice.”

Hearing this, I choked a bit on my sip of hot coffee. Podcast co-host Akaash Singh then asks the most important of questions. “Have you ever found an Indian girl attractive?” Nanda hesitated, and then answered, “Aishwarya Rai, yes. I guess I’ve been attracted, but I’ve never consciously pursued.” Nanda then goes on to denounce himself as a racist and explains where his aversion to Indian women sprouts from.

“I have an Indian sister and she had Indian friends—and they got on my nerves,” he said. “The way they hung out, their groups were very clique-y, with very high standards. They would hang out to gossip. They all stayed the same….this is super racist.” And as he went on to explain, his argument only got weaker—and I, angrier.

It was a generalization that I could not believe existed, as Indian women are among the most beautiful, intelligent and genuine individuals one could ever encounter. (I consider myself living proof of this!) I then thought of sending Nanda medication for his not just uncultured, but offensive remarks. And just when I thought it could not get any worse, he affirmed with all the ignorance in the world, “I can be myself around white girls.”

With every ounce of willpower I had left within my bones, I forced myself to listen on. The next topic was also interesting, as co-hosts Singh and Arjun Gupta dissected Nanda’s “Westernized” pronunciation of his name. “I say my name like it is… it’s more convenient,” he explained. He then used the example of how he does not want to teach an announcer how to pronounce his last name before going on stage. Nanda’s stance on this makes me want to pose the following question: why can’t they learn to simply say our names for our sake when we can learn a whole language for theirs?

Then finally, the root to all of Nanda’s “whitewashed” behavior is unearthed as he explained that his personality is simply an extension of his insecurities, of which being Indian is a prime example. The audience later learns of his obsession with being “white” in school: dating a popular white girl so that he may hang out with football players, sneaking out to parties and living a lifestyle against all the ideals his parents have aimed to drill within him.

When asked why he didn’t try to fit into the Indian community as much as he did his school environment he sighs before admitting, “I fit in because I tried.”