The company was one of the first major media groups in the UK to consider investing in Indian newspapers a few years ago. It was quickly followed by Associated Newspapers and Reuters.

However, financial difficulty has now forced IN&M to decrease its stake in the owner of the successful Hindi language paper Dainik Jagran. The Media Guardian reports that the company reduced its stake in Jagran Prakashan from 20.8% to 13.5%.

The money raised from the sale, around £19 million, will be used to pay off IN&M’s own debts.

The Dainik Jagran is India’s largest Hindi language newspaper. Media Guardian adds:

JPL’s flagship title, Dainik Jagran, is published in 37 editions across 11 states in India. The company also owns I-next, a bilingual newspaper, published in nine editions, and has an English “infotainment” paper called City Plus which is published in 13 editions.

The company also publishes Sakhi, a monthly magazine targeted at women, and Jagran Varshiki, an annual general knowledge digest.

“It was so awe inspiring and from that moment, I said to my music manager, Simon, ‘I’ve got to write a song with some of the influences from Dum Maro Dum‘. I absolutely adore the guitar riff throughout the track, and when I wrote it with the amazing Bombay Dub Orchestra boys, (Garry and Andrew), they were totally vibing from it, and voila! Magic Carpet Ride.”

The single is the first from her debut album out later this year. It features five mixes by Johnny Douglas, Nucleya, Pathaan, DJ Shadow+DJ Dev and FlipNSpin.

But it isn’t her first release. A few years ago she released a ‘Live Sessions’ EP that had a distinctly guitar feel to her music. So has she changed direction from her well received performance in Glastonbury three years ago?

“Glastonbury was a trip to play at! Had so much fun… I am very fortunate to have an incredibly versatile bunch of band mates, and at that time, it was about capturing something live and intimate, hence the acoustic sounding sets. That’s what led up to my ‘Live Sessions’ EP,” she says.

“Magic Carpet Ride was always going to blend my Asian roots with mainstream pop influences – a cross over so to speak, and I love to strut on the dance floor so yeah, bring on the dance/electro-pop infusions too!”

The London based performer has been focusing on her acting assignments of late. Most notably she played the female lead Layla in ‘The Scorpion King 2: Rise of A Warrior’ recently.

Later this year she stars in another film, ‘Couples Retreat’, starring Vince Vaughn and Kristen Bell.

In the mean time she is back to pushing and promoting her music. The video was all shot in London, mostly around Liverpool Street station.

She adds: “In this case, my magic carpet ride was on the tube where my imagination takes me to different places inside my head! Hope the fans like it!”

Magic Carpet Ride video

www.karendavid.com
www.itunes.com/karendavid

But there was an era when Baghdadi Jewish families who had emigrated to India starred in Bollywood.

The American online Jewish magazine, Tablet, explores:

Rose Ezra. Ruby Myers. Farhat Ezekiel Nadira. From the earliest years of Bollywood, these and other Jewish actresses garnered starring roles. And while they may have looked somewhat exotic to moviegoers, they came from Baghdadi Jewish families who had been living in India for decades. Reporter Eric Molinsky speaks to film scholars, as well as friends and relatives of these once-beloved but now mostly forgotten stars of Indian cinema, to find out how they became the “go-to girls” for leading female roles in the 1920s, ’30s, and beyond.

You can listen to the online podcast from here.

The subject: the Sikh turban, an integral part of his own identity and yet a constant subject of bafflement for others.

The former ITV journalist is making an hour long documentary that will get its initial broadcast next week. It will explore how British attitudes since the terrorist attacks of 7/7 have impacted people who tie turbans.

He told AIM magazine: “The turban forms an important part of Sikh identity, but ever since the fateful events of 9/11 and closer to home 7/7, the turban has become synonymous with terrorism. Yet far from this, the turban represents spirituality and wisdom.”

He added: “It’s also found in the Islamic faith and Christian customs all over the world. Yet the people who’ve suffered most because of its misconnection with terrorism are Sikhs.”

The documentary, titled ‘Turbanology: After 7/7′, will seek to raise awareness of its important to Sikhs and some Muslims, and will also be released as an educational resource on DVD on 1st July.

The young journalist faced ignorant attitudes in the United States where he worked for five years for a Conservative think-tank.

He finished his post-graduate in 2006 and worked briefly for BBC Asian Network before getting on to the ITV training programme. He worked as a trainee at Central New for a year before moving on to being a production journalist at ITV Thames Valley.

“Britain has always had more tolerance towards religions and faiths purely because of our nations own prosperity from such diversity,” he said. “But the lack of knowledge is something that does need to be tackled, which is why I decided to make Turbanology, to delve deeper into the issue of the turban and what it means in modern Britain.”

In the documentary he speaks to music producers, politicians and ordinary Sikhs and Muslims who have been affected by wearing a turban.

“The documentary discovers that simply noticing someone could be a Muslim increases the aggressive tendencies of westerners. The give-away sign is the turban, and the beard. Whether conscious or sub-conscious, the fact that terrorism is a worry for many people means that there’s been a rise in profiling who could be a threat – an issue explroed in the piece.”

Bigotry, combined with mistaken identity, has had real negative impact. Immediately after 9/11 a white American shot and killed a Sikh gas-station attendant in the US, mistakenly believing the beard and turban meant he was an Arab Muslim.

Turbanology will be broadcast on Brit-Asia TV on 7th July.
For more information and to order a DVD visit www.turbanology.com

Video trailer below

Inspired by the true story of a worker who was fired for masturbating whilst on duty, writer Mina Maisuria’s comic take on life at a petrol station played to audiences in East London recently.

Girish, or ‘Gary’ as he prefers to be known, is the politically incorrect cockney manager who is at times outright racist.

He supervises Krishnan, the overworked immigrant who succumbs to his sexual needs on duty and Feroza, the gobby northern girl who stands up to her indignant boss.

Over a 48 hour period we see how the petrol station is a hub for conflict and personal gripes.

Maisuria didn’t set out to make her play political, but it inevitably is. Titled ‘Commercial Road’, it brings together first generation immigrants, British born Asians and new wave immigrants.

In doing so, she draws out the many issues that arise from within the Asian community. Girish refers to Krishan as one of the “freshie boys.” His son, Sonny blames the degradation of the area on the new wave of immigrants, whilst Krishnan professes he “came on a plane” in an attempt to rid himself of the title FOB (fresh off boat).

Maisuria adds layers to the asian community whilst connecting them on a human level, making the play a commendable step towards quashing stereotypes. One of the more poignant scenes in the play is when we witness Feroza remove her headscarf and use it to clean up her fellow worker’s blood following an altercation with Sonny.

Although the play raises numerous political issues, it is essentially a light-hearted comedy and it’s a sound debut for the initiative.

With cultural diversity on stage continuing to be a hot topic, in 2008 the newly created Angle Theatre launched an initiative to provide a platform for playwrights from the East London area. The initiative was inspired by a research that revealed writers from specific communities still felt that there was a lack of representation on stage.

The company received 70 multi-lingual submissions in response to their campaign and Mina Maisuria was picked to develop her play in full.

If the theatre continues to deliver similar works in the future, it could come to be recognised as an exciting and innovative company. It’s definitely worth keeping an eye out for their next production.

Mina Maisuria is currently completing an MA in Playwriting at Goldsmiths college. By day she is a school’s consultant in East London.

——-
Commercial Road ran at The Hackney Empire Studio for two weeks, from 3rd June to 20th Jun 2009.
It was produced by Angle Theatre in association with The Hackney Empire.
Cast: Kal Aise, Rina Mahoney, Alton Letto, Ashley Kumar, Ravi Aujla

Its founder John Bird said: “Nowhere in the world needs The Big Issue like Pakistan right now.”

The Big Issue is already sold in nine countries including England, Scotland, Australia, the Republic of Ireland, South Africa, Japan, Namibia, Kenya and Malawi. It was was founded in 1991 by John Bird and Gordon Roddick, husband of the late Anita Roddick, the late founder of The Body Shop.

It has grown to become one of the UK’s leading social businesses.

To win answer the question below.

Shilpa Shetty co-owns the Rajasthan Royals, but which reality TV show did the Bollywood princess famously win in 2007?

1. Celebrity Dancing on Ice
2. I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here
3. Celebrity Big Brother

Email your answer to: news@asiansinmedia.org.

The competition closes Friday 26th June at 6pm.

Two names will be drawn randomly from emails received.

This one off charity cricket match is being played in aid of the British Asian Trust, one of Prince Charles Trust’s charities.

- The match starts 4:30pm on Monday 6th July 2009.
- Middlesex Panthers (captain: Shaun Udal) will face the Rajasthan Royals (Captain: Shane Warne).
- Tickets from the Lords Box Office are £20 for adults, £5 for under 16s.
- The match will include a half-time Bollywood Extravaganza with Shilpa Shetty.
www.lords.org

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9]

Ramesh was once again standing outside Jas’s flat. Once again he was nervous. This time it wasn’t so much how Jas was going to react at seeing him on her doorstep that was worrying him, but more what her ex-boyfriend, Sanjay was going to do if he found him there. He didn’t have to wait long for the answer. Sanjay appeared, carrying a bunch of red roses that had been carefully wrapped and had a bright yellow bow around the packing.

Sanjay glared at Ramesh. It was the glare of a man who was both confused and angry at the same time. “What are you doing here?” he bellowed. “Didn’t you get my message?”

Ramesh took a big step towards him and spoke with an authority and determination that he had never experienced before. “I’m here to see Jas…and yes, I did get your message”.

“So if you got my message, you know that I don’t need you to do anything anymore. I’m here to get Jas back”.

“Get Jas back? She’s not some sort of property you can just claim like a piece of lost and found”.

Sanjay thought for a moment and then smiled, almost sinisterly. “So…the chicken man thinks he’s going to win my girl”.

“She’s not yours. And I’m not a chicken man”.

“Oh really. Well, as soon as I’ve finished with you, you’ll be stuffed like one”. Sanjay took a large step forward and stood over Ramesh.

Ashok was standing at the school gates watching his sister, Rupa walk out. She would normally run down the path and greet him excitedly. But not today. Not since that visit from Detective Harris had set some doubts in her mind. Was her brother really a thief? Wasn’t he the big brother that she had always looked up to and confided in? Ashok felt as
if he had betrayed her. Although he had pleaded his innocence at home, he knew that Rupa could sense his guilt. Even his mother, who had to this day tried to convince herself that her son was a law-abiding citizen, realised that he was skating on very thin ice.

Ashok had contemplated going to see ‘The Man’ but knew that would probably land him in further trouble, especially if the police were keeping an extra special watch on him. Rupa walked home in silence, save for the occasional yes or no answer. When they reached home, she went straight to her room and started her homework. She didn’t even bother to watch her favourite programme, Grange Hill.

He stood outside her room for about ten minutes and then knocked on the door. “Rupa, can I come in?”

There was no reply.

“Rupa?”

“If you want to”, came the unenthusiastic response.

Ashok walked slowly in and looked at Rupa. She glared back. It was the glare of someone who was confused and angry.

Bernie looked at his watch and saw that it was 4pm. It was going to be another four hours before he would see the guys again. What was he going to do? Malkit had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to ensure that the guys didn’t get their plan into motion. Bernie had other ideas. The night before had given him a flashback of his youth. It had taken him back to the time when he had really felt as if he belonged. What’s more, he thought he could actually help the guys in their quest to become entertainers.

The trouble was that he didn’t know what Malkit would do when he found out that Bernie was going to become the bands ally instead of their enemy. Malkit may decide to take care of matters himself, in which case the cat would be out of the bag and Bernie would be cast as the villain.

Bernie had been in many situations in his life that had tested him. He had been caught cheating with his best friend’s wife. He had been caught with drugs. He had been caught with his finger in the tills. Now…he was caught again. This time it felt different. This time it wasn’t so much that he was wrong…but the prospect of being found out as a liar. Although his intentions now were more pure, he couldn’t be sure how things would turn out
if the band found out that he had originally had an ulterior motive. He looked in the mirror and his eyes stared back at him. It was the stare of a man who was confused and angry.

Ashok had spent twenty minutes trying to explain to Rupa about himself. He hadn’t actually confessed to anything, but he had tried to explain that he wasn’t as much of a saint that she may have thought him to be. Rupa had listened without questioning anything. At the end, she looked at him and asked, “You are my brother though aren’t you?”

“Of course”, he replied.

“Good. I don’t want another brother. Even if you have done something wrong, you can stop can’t you? It’s not too late is it?”

“No…it’s not too late”.

“You know it’s not too late!” Sanjay was shouting from outside Jas’s flat. There was a torn yellow ribbon at his feet. Rose petals were littered along the lobby and there were obvious signs that a struggle had taken place. “Jas! Jas, let me in”.

After a few more seconds, he decided to give up and kicked the remains of the flowers. More petals sprinkled the air as he left.

Inside the flat, Ramesh was lying on the sofa while Jas was tending to his nosebleed.

“This is getting to be a bit of a regular thing isn’t it?” he said.

“Don’t worry”, Jas smiled. “I’m getting the carpet colour changed. I was thinking of blood type O…would that be about right?”

Ramesh smiled. “I wouldn’t be much use to you as a bodyguard would I”.

“Who says I want a bodyguard?”

She leaned closer to him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“So how did you ever get involved with a guy like him?” he asked.

“Don’t know. I guess I have a habit of attracting strange guys”.

It took a moment for the comment to register with him, before he smiled back at her. “I see I’m going to have to be careful what I say around you”.

They kissed again.

On the street below, Sanjay strode away brushing the dust off his trousers. He stared at the road ahead of him. There was no longer any confusion in his eyes…just anger.

————–
This serial is fictional and any similarity with existing groups or individuals is unintentional.
Ravi Mangat is contactable on: rav38man@yahoo.co.uk

Devichand first visited Dharavi in 2007, and returned a number of times before sleeping over in the slum with his producer John Murphy in March 2008. It was recorded well before Slumdog Millionarre brought the poverty of Mumbai’s slums to the big screen.

The reporter told AIM Magazine: “Like anyone who peered out of the car window at heartbreaking slums on childhood visits to South Asia, one part of me is hugely glad that India is now able to think about clearing the slums.”

“But that means it’s time for an urgent debate about what cities like Mumbai will look like in the future — and whether they’ll push the poor out into distant cramped tower blocks, storing up problems for the future. John and I were grateful to make a contribution to that discussion, and it’s wonderful to be recognised for it.”

The event, organised by the Commonwealth Journalists Association (UK), why journalists are not better protected and media laws being ignored in many countries around the world.

Journalists are almost daily being reported as arrested, victimised and sometimes killed in countries such as Sri Lanka, Pakistan or Zimbabwe. Despite Commonwealth declarations of committments to freedom of expression, the conditions for media are seen as just as bad as many other parts of the world. Can the situation be improved?

These are some of the questions that will be raised by the panel, which includes:
Martin Bell: Former BBC correspondent and former Member of Parliament
Soli Sorabjee: Former Attorney-General of India
Brad Adams: Asia Director, Human Rights Watch
Wilf Mbanga: Editor, Zimbabwean

The event is being hosted by the former BBC executive and CJA chair Rita Payne.

Date: Monday June 29
Location: Boothroyd Room, Portcullis House, Bridge Street, London SW1A 2LW
Time: 6pm – 8pm

The event is free and open to the public. Allow at least 15 minutes to pass through security.

What is the fixation that mums, aunties, nans (nannijis), and grans (bibijis) have with plastic containers? It’s like Asian women have an addiction to plastic Tupperware!

The person that sets up the first ‘Tupperware Addiction Clinic’ for Asian women is going to make a lot of money – probably some Asian guy who will acquire a forged certificate from India.

Every Asian family has one cupboard in the kitchen that resembles a shrine to plastic Tupperware, or dubbai. Many Asian families even have stockpiles in the garage. Imagine that: a temple filled with every type of plastic container. I wonder if aunties take their shoes off and cover their heads as a mark of respect before entering the Tupperware temple.

Like most Tupperware (drugs), plastic-container users (otherwise affectionately known as ‘dubbai women’) can exist in many addictive forms ranging from the low-level addict to the hard-core.

First, the auntie who is a low level addict (merchandise includes ice cream containers and those cheap microwaveable plastic boxes you get from the local takeaway). This is the kind of Asian woman that keeps plastic containers ‘just in case’.

She happily trades containers with other low-level addicts and never complains as long as the number of containers stays the same: they can happily increase, but they can never drop! If there is a reduction in number, this can cause a lot of anxiety to the low-level addict, and often a refusal to hand out any more plastic containers can be observed by the subtle yet assertive request that fellow low-level addicts bring their own.

Now in theory this seems perfectly adequate in any other social situation. Imagine a guy hosting a party and saying to his mates, “Hey, I’m having a party; bring a bottle!” Asian women feel the same way about recycling plastic containers.

I don’t understand why this is such a sensitive issue. Surely, the stigma attached to this uncontrolled transit of plastic containers could be alleviated by the purchase of the occasional tub of ice cream whilst shopping or of takeaway food to replenish reduced numbers and restore dubbai harmony.

As an aside, the Asian woman’s role in recycling plastic containers is surely single-handedly keeping the Earth eco-friendly! The hard-core addict, however, not only uses such expendable tacky plastic containers (for friends and distant relations) but also goes out of her way to purchase specific, ‘high quality’ Tupperware.

I call this the Boomerang Stash. This is the precious stash that goes out to people who will think highly of the hardcore addict’s standards in food storage and know that it must be returned immediately after use.

They are treated like a library book; the hard-core addict will even travel great distances to collect this high quality merchandise, with specific lids that go with it. Yes, that’s right: hard-core addicts don’t mix and match their dubbai.

Shall I tell you why they buy them? Shall I? It’s because they think that high quality Tupperware will never get stained with that dirty turmeric stain that sediments in the container after putting a curry in it. Indian food will stain anything and everything. Why do you never see turmeric being removed in cleaning commercials? It’s because nothing on the face of this Earth can shift it!

This is a phenomenon that will never go away, and every time you empty plastic containers in your house, ready to chuck them in the bin, your mum (no matter where she is in the house, she can sense this by radar) will shout out, “Don’t chuck the dubbai away; wash it out; we can use it – just in case.”

—————-
Amit Rajp’s debut book: “My Name Is Baljit But You Can Call Me Gary: The Alternative Guide To Indian Culture” is a saracastic look at Asian life in this country. It is now available on Amazon.co.uk and major bookstores.
More: www.mynameisbaljit.co.uk

She said: “For me it marks that start of a new chapter in giving back to business and the community. Expectations among my family and friends are high – I know that they are looking to see what I can do next in raising the profile of the Asian community in Britain, getting more women-owned businesses off the ground and in helping young Asians feel proud to be British.”

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8]

6a.m. The alarm clock had failed to wake Raj, so Malkit was now calling out to him. Raj opened his eyes and smiled. The night before had been a great revelation and somewhere deep inside of him he felt as if he might finally have some purpose in his life. As he showered and changed, he sang a few of the soul songs that the guys and Bernie had been playing until 2a.m. When he came downstairs he saw Malkit with a big smile on his face. It seemed as if they both had something they were happy about.

“So, how did it go?” asked Malkit expectantly.

“Great, really great”.

“Really?” Malkit was surprised. He had expected a completely different reaction, especially as he had asked Bernie to ruin the equipment. “And the equipment, did it work okay?”

“Yeah fine. We still need something better, but Ashok thinks he can arrange something for us.”

“I see,” Malkit paused. “Nothing else happened. No problem?”

“No, not really. Oh, except we met this guy…Bernie, he says he’s going to help us”.

“What!” Malkit was amazed, but he managed to compose himself. “What do you mean, you met someone? Can you trust him?”

“I think so. He seems harmless and he’s got some good ideas”. Raj grabbed hold of the car keys and walked towards the door. “You coming dad?”

“You go ahead and open up. I’ve got to…got to go and see Iqbal at the Cash and Carry”.

“Okay…see you later”.

Malkit was left alone in the kitchen. He muttered a curse under his breath and walked out purposefully.

Ashok had also been up for a few hours, in fact he hadn’t even gone to sleep. He had been summoned to see ‘The Man’ and the meeting had gone less well than before. Although, ‘The Man’ was happy enough with the designer briefcases, he was not so keen on the extra surveillance that had been heaped on him by the local constabulary. He had a feeling that his recent deal with Ashok may have had something to do with it and he had made his feeling known. Ashok was told to keep a low profile until the warehouse raid had been forgotten. By the time he got home, it was 7a.m. His sister, Rupa, was already awake and his mother was busy trying to shoo the next door neighbour’s cat from the garden.

Although he tried to get to his bed, the doorbell rang and Ashok wished he had never answered it. It was Detective Harris with a constable and he was armed…with questions. It lasted just over an hour during which time, Ashok’s mother kept interrupting with questions about whether anyone would like any tea. When Harris had left, she turned on Ashok with anger. “I knew you were up to something stupid. How many times have I told you to stay away from those men at the snooker club? Your father is going to go crazy and I noticed Mrs Sidhu from down the road already starting to talk to the other neighbours. Everyone’s going to be talking about us”.

“Don’t worry”, Ashok tried to re-assure her. “I haven’t done anything wrong, they’ve got the wrong person.

Rupa was watching from the door. She had got ready for school but the spring in her step had disappeared. She seemed disappointed with Ashok and when he looked at her, she turned away and walked into another room.

By comparison, Ramesh had slept very well and for a very long time. He woke up at 11a.m. Jagpal had already gone to start on a decorating job for a friend of a friend. Things were going really well for Ramesh at the moment. He was starting out on a new journey as a singer and he was going out on a date with Jas.

He had brunch with a permanent grin plastered across his face, which made eating the Cornflakes difficult. The phone rang at 11.33a.m. He didn’t make it in time, before it tripped on to the answer phone. A desperate sounding Sanjay came on the line. “Ramesh…Ramesh are you there? Anyway, I’ve been thinking. I’ve decided to tell Jas how I feel. You were right, I should be the one to tell her, so I don’t need you anymore. I’m going round now and see if she’ll have me back.” The message ended and the room fell silent. What now? Ramesh had finally found someone he was interested in and now another man was going to try and win her back. It was time to decide whether he was a man or a mouse.
He got changed in one-minute flat and raced out. This mouse was just about to start roaring.

11.55a.m. Malkit had waited over three hours outside Bernie’s flat. Just as he was about to leave, Bernie appeared from the lift. They looked at each other in silence and Bernie motioned Malkit to enter his flat. There was hardly any décor of note; everything was pretty basic, but what was apparent was the enormous record collection that occupied two sides of the room.

Malkit looked at the collection, “Is that where all your money goes?”

“What money?” Bernie replied.

Malkit waited for Bernie to turn around and face him. “So?”

“So”.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Do you want a drink?”

“It’s too early.”

“Something soft? A cup of tea maybe?”

“No…nothing. Just tell me what happened”.

Bernie took a deep breath. “They’re good kids you know. Your son seems to have his head screwed on.”

“I’m not paying you for your psychiatric skills. I want to know why my son turns around this morning and starts talking about his friend Bernie.”

“He called me his friend?” Bernie seemed surprised.

“No, but it was obvious that you made some impression on him.”

“What can I say? I was ready to smash the equipment, just like you wanted, but I couldn’t do it.”

Malkit paced slowly around the room. “Does he know?”

“About you? No, I didn’t say anything…in fact I quite enjoyed hanging with those guys. You know, with the right guidance they could make something of themselves.”

Malkit laughed. “Two minutes in his company and already you’re talking like him. You’re as naïve as he is. No one is going to give him a second look. At least my way will stop him early enough so that he doesn’t get hurt.”

“Is that what it’s all about? You afraid of him being rejected? How is the boy going to learn anything if you don’t give him a chance to explore? Let him make his own decisions.”

“His own mistakes you mean.”

“Maybe.”

“All I know, is that I want my son back…in the shop. Do it quickly, for his own sake.”

12p.m. High Noon. Bernie sighed and knew he had to make a decision.

————–
This serial is fictional and any similarity with existing groups or individuals is unintentional.
Ravi Mangat is contactable on: rav38man@yahoo.co.uk

Among nominees for the prestigious Broadcast Journalist of the Year award are Nadene Ghouri, which AIM previously profiled here, and the BBC’s Mukul Devichand.

The 12 award categories recognise excellence in coverage of the developing world.

The event will feature a keynote speech by the Rt Hon Lord Malloch-Brown, Minister for Africa, Asia and the UN in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office.

www.oneworldmediaawards.org

For press information: Sophie Toumazis or Suzie Schilling at tpr media on 020 8347 7020 / sophie@tpr-media.com

One World Media Awards 2009 – Shortlist:

Broadcast Journalist of the Year
Alex Crawford, Sky News
Nadene Ghouri , Freelance (BBC Radio 4, BBC World News)
Jonathan Miller, Channel 4 News
Radio Documentary
Assignment: Africa’s Guantanamo
Rob Walker, David Edmonds, Helena Selby, Jeremy Skeet; BBC World Service
Crossing Continents: Dharavi
Mukul Devichand, John Murphy, Maria Balinska; BBC Radio Current Affairs for BBC Radio 4
Why They’re Dying in Congo
Mark Doyle, Rob Walker, Bridget Harney; BBC World Service

TV Documentary
Dispatches: Saving Africa’s Witch Children
Mags Gavan, Joost Van der Valk, Alice Keens-Soper, Paul Woolwich; Red Rebel Films and Oxford Scientific Films for Channel 4
Ghosts of the 7th Cavalry
Tom Roberts, Jeremy Williams, Paul Carlin; October Films/Taglicht Media for Storyville, BBC 4
Iran and the West: The Pariah State
Norma Percy, Brian Lapping, Delphine Jaudeau, Paul Mitchell, Dai Richards; Brook Lapping for
BBC 2

Press Journalist of the Year
Jonathan Green
Live – Mail on Sunday
Barney Jopson
Financial Times
Adrian Levy and Cathy Scott-Clark
Guardian Weekend Magazine

New Media Award, sponsored by Commonwealth Broadcasting Association
BBC World Class
BBC Audio and Music
Philippine Human Rights Reporting Project
Institute for War and Peace Reporting
Traces of Hope
British Red Cross

Drama Award
El baño del Papa (The Pope’s Toilet)
César Charlone, Enrique Fernández
Persepolis
Vincent Paronnaud, Marjane Satrapi
Under the Bombs
Philippe Aractingi

Local Media Award
Canfod Hedd (Finding Peace)
Neville Hughes, Arwyn Evans; Cwmni Da for S4C
It’s as if they raped my mind
Lucy Adams, The Herald
Put a family back together
Tara Greaves, Eastern Daily Press

Popular Features Award, sponsored by Christian Aid
Blood, Sweat and T-Shirts
Tim Quicke, Mark Rubens, Ricochet; Harry Lansdown, BBC 3
Dirty Ali
Nadene Ghouri, Live Magazine – Mail on Sunday
Lush Paddy Fields as Far as the Eye Can See
Alex Renton, Observer Food Monthly

Children’s Rights Award, sponsored by UNICEF UK
Dispatches: Saving Africa’s Witch Children
Mags Gavan, Joost Van der Valk, Alice Keens-Soper, Paul Woolwich; Red Rebel Films and Oxford Scientific Films for Channel 4
India’s Trafficked Girls
Ramita Navai, Iain Overton, Bernard Lyall; More4 News
The Children’s Ward
Paolo Santolini, Fabrizio Lazzaretti; BBC Storyville for BBC 4

Environment Award
One Planet: Carbon Trading
Mark Gregory, David Edmonds, Jeremy Skeet; BBC World Service
From producers to consumers: how rice farmers face catastrophe
Jonathan Watts, Dan Chung, Harriet Sherwood; The Guardian
Unreported World: Paraguay’s Painful Harvest
Andrew Carter, Tanya Datta, Siobhan Sinnerton; Quicksilver Media for Channel 4

International Documentary Award, sponsored by Plan UK
Burma VJ
Anders Østergaard
Crude
Joe Berlinger
Waltz with Bashir
Ari Folman

Special Award, sponsored by the Institute of Development Studies (IDS)
Aswat al-Iraq (Iraq)
B’Tselem (Israel)
Dalan Tele-serial (Nepal)
Kids’ Waves (West Africa)
Makutano Junction (Kenya)
Rien que la Vérité (Congo)
Youth, music and HIV prevention in post-war Sierra Leone (Sierra Leone)

So the BNP has won a couple of seats and the radio phone-ins are in melt down. I have listened to at least two phone-ins on the BBC, and it was interesting to hear the reactions.

Some seemed surprised at the win and some were angry. Most of the callers were slightly embarrassed and some were offering reasons. And there were those who have voted BNP and were eager to tell us why.

The phone-in on the BBC Asian network was full of anger, but I did not hear even one person accept any responsibility or even hint, that what could have led some people to vote for that party.

I will accept that there are people who are racist and who do not like people who are different from them. But I will maintain that majority of British whites are tolerant, believe in fairness and do not believe in racist policies.

So what has happened? What has led one million people to vote for a party which is known to be racist?

I feel that immigrants have to accept their share of responsibility for this change. In the last few years the divisions between the communities has got wider. Certain areas in the inner cities were no-go areas for the White British people. The BBC’s Panorama did a programme about it about two years ago.

But was anything done about it? No. There was a deafening silence from the local authorities and the government.

Not to mention the stupid rules made by beaurocrats to call Christmas ‘winterval’, remove the words ‘baba black sheep’ from the nursery rhymes and make learning about other religions compulsory in schools. When the Christian parents complained, they were branded racists.

Then there was the incidence of hurling abuse at returning soldiers in Luton. I accept that it was a minority of Muslims who were involved. The majority of peace loving Muslims did not shout loud enough to condemn them. This has been the way things have been all along. I accept that the majority of Asians want to live peacefully. But the problem is that they do not come out and condemn those who behave badly.

I remember I used to write a column on an Asian website and when I tried to condemn and write about such things, I had threatening emails, death threats and such hostility that the editor has to set up a separate address for the emails.

I have tried saying this on Asian radio phone-ins, but the men are threatening and rude even on air. So the so-called decent people have been living in denial and may have thought these things were not their concerns.

And now we have the BNP in the European Parliament.

I suggest that this election is a wake-up call for all the immigrants – for all of us who are not indigenous white. It is a wake up call that we have to make an effort to find out what people find objectionable. After all, it is us who have decided to make this country our home. It is up to us to make it work.

Otherwise this will not be the only victory the BNP will have. And that is truly frightening.

So if you know of a young talented journalist who deserves to be recognized, please nominate and help inspire the next generation of young journalists. The winner will receive a bursary cheque of £500 from the Daily Mail and will have the chance, if appropriate, of a week’s work experience on the newspaper. Closing date is Friday July 24th 2009.
Email: Minaxi Mistry / More info: GG2 Awards

I have always felt that Britain has remained remarkably tolerant despite the shock of the July 7th terrorist attacks in London, and the continuing provocation from some elements. But I wasn’t sure the same was the case for the United States.

For example there was a dreadful incident on this year’s New Year’s Day when nine Muslims – including three young children, and all US citizens – were removed from a domestic flight because two of them were overheard discussing where was the safest place to sit on an airplane.

A few weeks later, I was reclining on my sofa, watching President Obama’s inauguration speech in January – in which he mentioned a new era of ‘mutual respect’ between America and the Muslim world. I thought: ‘I can do that!’

That evening I pulled out a map of the United States and visualised how I would do a speaking tour by road. I had already been receiving e-mails from US readers of my book, Unimagined – a Muslim boy meets the West, suggesting that I could speak at their churches.

So I plotted a course around the entire mainland US, starting in Chicago and working clockwise around the major population centres: the East Coast, the Carolinas, Florida, the Deep South, Texas, Kansas, Colorado, the deserts, up the entire West Coast, across the mid-West, back to Chicago. It looked like 40 cities over 50 days – around 12,000 miles in all.

I had commitments at the Perth Writers Festival in Australia, and to address the English Literature students at Stirling University (where my book is now on the core reading list), so the earliest I could start the US tour was 16th March, and it would continue into early May. I proceeded on that basis, creating a provisional plan and contacting various organisations on the route, asking if I could speak at their venues. The proposed plan quickly became a reality. These were to be public events and my hosts at each location worked on the local publicity.

My aim was to re-humanise the relationship between America and the Muslim world, to counter the unthinking tribalism which results in polarisation, dehumanisation and demonisation. I didn’t expect to achieve this single-handedly, but I believed that I could make a difference.

Something extraordinary happened on the morning of my departure from London. An Iranian-born film-maker was interviewing me in my car whilst I was driving. A few minutes after we reached my house, there was a knock on the door. Two police officers had turned up to investigate a report of two (Middle Eastern) men suspiciously filming in the town centre. The officers were extremely polite and, once I explained what was going on, left without any fuss.

On a mission
In the end, I drove 13,934 miles across the United States in a hybrid car, and had 41 scheduled speaking events.

I told everyone whom I engaged in conversation that I was a Muslim writer on a speaking tour of the entire US. I never had a negative response, but rather expressions of what a ‘cool’ thing this was to do.

My busiest day was in Washington. An early morning interview at the BBC Washington studio was followed by a meeting with a Muslim man who formerly worked for the Bush Administration and was leaving later that day to take a group of evangelical Christians to Syria on a familiarisation tour. Then I had an extended television studio interview with Voice of America.

In the afternoon, I had a meeting at the Heritage Foundation, a conservative think tank. My extremely positive discussion with one of their Pakistan-Afghanistan experts had only one point of contention. I proposed that civilian casualties from US drone attacks in Pakistan were too high a price for the successful elimination of ‘high value’ Al-Qaeda targets, because they made it difficult for progressive, apparently pro-Western groups to maintain a credible position. She asserted that the presence of US troops on the ground in Pakistan would result in less civilian casualties, but was politically unacceptable, and therefore the drones were the most viable option. By the time I had to give my talk that evening, at the Washington Ethical Society, I was exhausted.

Overwhelmingly, my audiences were friendly and supportive. The problem, I realised, was that the people I really needed to reach were not the ones coming to my talks. My host in Memphis, the Director of Religious Education at the First Unitarian Church, told me that she had taken the children to experience different places of worship.

At the Baptist church, the minister, in his sermon, had said, “There are three groups who are all going straight to Hell: Gays, murderers and Moslems.” This minister and his congregation are really the kind of people I needed to meet, but they would never come to a talk by a Muslim delivered in a Unitarian church.

A PhD rocket scientist who works for NASA took me to lunch in LA and gave me her opinion of the problem: Americans are gravitating into segregated communities where people are all the same – politically, socially, religiously, economically – and so they never encounter the challenges to their thinking, and subsequent personal development, which come from experiencing diversity.

I did get some hostile attendees. In Iowa, three men sitting together in the audience refused to smile, no matter how much everyone else laughed. Their questions later included “Are you saying that we should re-humanise Bin Laden?”

Someone told me later that this group had organised a speaking event for an Arab woman who had converted to Christianity, and they had advised the local police that she was in danger from terrorists. The police laid on a visible presence at her talk, with flashing lights on patrol cars, but this was pure theatrics, to create some excitement.

It seems that some people are desperate to keep us all in a polarised state.

———
Imran Ahmad is the author of Unimagined. More info: www.unimagined.org

The BBC soap’s producers said today that the storyline would be a, “traditional love affair, albeit with a modern multicultural twist”.

24-year-old Syed Masood, played by actor Marc Elliott, will find his religion and sexual feelings “in conflict” when he falls for openly gay Christian Clarke. They will share an on-screen kiss in June.

Syed Mahmood is currently dating Amira Shah, played by actress Preeya Kalidas. They both arrived in Albert Square just under two months ago.

Diederick Santer, Eastenders executive producer, told the Guardian today: “We’ve always tried to make EastEnders reflect modern life in multicultural Britain and we’ve always told social issue stories relevant to our diverse audience. This isn’t a moral tale of right or wrong; it’s very much a human interest story where a young man struggles with the conflict between his faith and his feelings.”

“In this regard, it’s not dissimilar to the story we told when Dot Cotton’s deeply held Christian beliefs came into conflict with her desire to alleviate Ethel’s suffering [in a euthanasia plotline].”

“To all intents and purposes, Syed’s a ‘good’ Muslim man: he doesn’t drink, smoke or engage in sex before marriage. But he struggles with his sexuality when he finds himself drawn to Christian and he believes this goes against his faith. This is not a story about Syed and Christian’s physical relationship – we don’t see anything beyond one kiss. It’s more about the inner turmoil and conflict Syed endures trying to remain true to his faith while questioning his sexuality.”

It is understood that the BBC consulted with several people and organisations before unveiling the plot line. These are said to have included academics, gay Muslim support groups (Al-Fatiha), members of the Muslim Council of Britain.

British Muslims hold more quite conservative views towards homosexuality. A recrnt survey found that none of the people questioned believed homosexual acts were religiously acceptable.

BBC’s Santer added that their intention was to develop the Masoods as “rounded human beings tackling the issues of day-to-day life in Albert Square”.

“The dynamics of Muslim relationships and families are not radically different from any others but the importance that Muslim culture places on family and married life can make the same issues more charged.”

Related
Pickled Politics: Did Eastenders avoid Muslim actors for gay storyline?

Organisers have announced a partnership with publishers group Penguin Group.

Its managing director for UK operations, Helen Fraser, said: “Penguin is supporting the Muslim Writers Awards because we believe that there are immensely talented writers in the British Muslim community, not all of whom are finding it easy to get their work in front of publishers or literary agents.”

“We like to think that publishing is not a closed circle, and that talent will always make its way through the various barriers to publication, but we know from our work in trying to attract employees from different backgrounds that the book industry can seem baffling and hard to get into,” she added.

The event takes place on Wednesday 27th of May, at Hilton Hotel on Park Lane.

Full list of nominees

Published Fiction
Robin Yassin-kassab (The Road from Damascus, Hamish Hamilton)
Daniyal Mueenuddin (In Other rooms, Other wonders, Bloomsbury Publishing Ltd)
Kamila Shamsie (Burnt Shadows, Bloomsbury Publishing Ltd)
Tahir Shah (In Arabian Nights, Bantam Books)
Farahad Zama (The Marriage Bureau for Rich People, Abacus)
Judged by: Miranda Mckearney, Qaisra Shahraz and Zarah Hussain.

Published Non Fiction
Shahzad Aziz (In the land of Ayatollahs Tupac Shakur is King, Amal Press)
Fethiye Cetin (My Grandmother, Verso)
Yasmin Hai (The making of Mr Hai’s daughter: Becoming British, Virago Press Ltd)
Shelina Zahra Janmohamed (Love in a headscarf, Aurum Press)
Tariq Modood (Multiculturalism, Polity Press)
Judged by: Dr Claire Chambers, Dr Tahir Abbas, Hannah Westland and Dele Fatunla.

Journalism
How I arranged my daughters Marriage and others by Ziauddin Sardar.
The Paper Terrorists and other articles, by Faisal al Yafai.
A cause for shame, by Kia Abdullah.
Judged by: Fuad Nahdi and Ahmed J. Versi.

Unpublished Poetry
Saifullah Nasser, ‘The minaret and the Dome’ (West Midlands)
Sabina Atta, ‘Ears wide shut’ (Middlesex)
Ahmed Khan, selection of poetry (Birmingham)
Zimarina Sarwar, Howl, Anarchy, Simple pleasure (London)
Bahar Monif-Ullah, ‘Nescience’ (London)
Shameam Akhtar , selection of poetry (Bradford)
Wajid Hussain, selection of poetry (Newcastle upon Tyne)
Zahid Hussain, ‘The space of silence’ (selection of poetry) (Manchester)
Ruqqaiyyah Waris Maqsood, ‘Touched by Fire’ (selection of poetry) (Hull)
Judged by: Judith Palmer, John Siddique and Siobhan Logan.

Unpublished Novels
Tam Hussain – ‘Pantra Tigris Tigris’ and ‘the travels of Ibn Fudayl’ (Croydon)
Moharem El Gihani – ‘Morna Devlin’ (Cambridge)
Suhel Ahmed – ‘Broken Paths’ (Hertfordshire)
Saman Shad – ‘The view from above’ (London)
Qaisra Shahraz – ‘The potter’s son’ (Manchester)
Judged by: Robin Yassin-Kassab, Simon Prosser, Bernardine Evaristo, Vivian Archer

Unpublished Short Stories
Alia Kaussar –‘The shoe box on the floor’ (Birmingham)
Summayyah Sadiq – Ojibara – ‘At the edge’ (Australia)
Sahin Kathawala – ‘The pythoness in his heart’ (West Midlands)
Zahid Hussain – ‘M’ (Manchester)
Nedeem Ghulam-Mustfah – ‘The Harlot and the Siren’ (Bucks)
Irshad Ashraf – ‘The Drowners’ (Manchester)
Khuram Shahzad – ‘Cold age’ (Birmingham)
Humaira Rashid – ‘Crash and Burn’ (West Yorkshire)
Zimarina Sarwar – ‘Jonathan’ and ‘Night sky with a sun’ (London)
Judged by: Arzu Tahsin, Karen Ings, Laura Longring, Mahsuda Shah, Anya Serota.

Unpublished –Children’s stories
Farhad Ahmed – ‘The Adventures of the Fat Elf: Fat Elf in a sticky situation’(Liverpool)
Shamim Azam – ‘Sabrina and her Quest’ (Lancashire)
Zahid Hussain – ‘The Old Man and the Boy’ (Manchester)
Reba Khatun – ‘The Mysterious Neighbour’ (Birmingham)
Yanti Nizar – ‘The Singing Quran’ (Belfast)
Judged by: Asad Ahmed, Sufiya Ahmed, Shannon Park, Louisa Young, and John Newman.

Under 16’s Categories
This includes a poetry and short story category and is broken down by age categories; 8-10, 11-13 and 14-16 years old.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7]

When Detective Harris saw the Ford Cortina turn around and head back towards the garage, he decided he wasn’t going to follow any longer. After all, there was a particularly good documentary about the life of a cockroach that he wanted to watch and he had already missed it once.

Ramesh was apologising as the guys pulled up outside the garage. He was sure he must have dropped his keys and as his roommate Jagpal was probably out at the disco, then there was nothing to do but go back and re-trace his steps. As the guys stepped out of the car, Jas instantly told them to keep quiet. “Listen”, he said placing a finger to his lips. For a few seconds there was nothing, but then they all heard it at once. There was the sound of music coming from the garage. “I switched everything off. I’m sure of it”.

They walked slowly down the alley running by the side of the garage. They could see that the door had been forced open. “Maybe we should call the police”, whispered Ramesh.

Ashok was quick to respond. “No. No police”. He pushed the door slightly more ajar and the three of them peered inside.

There was a black man in his late forties, dancing in the garage whilst singing along to the song, ‘Baby, I Need Your Loving’, by the Four Tops. They watched for a few seconds, almost in amazement at the sheer audacity of someone who would break in and then play a few records. Bernie reached a crescendo as the song came to a finish and the three guys burst into the garage.

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Ashok.

“Who are you?” said Raj.

“What do you want?” added Ramesh.

Bernie was surprised to see the guys but he didn’t let it show. On the outside, he remained as cool as he always did. He lived by the motto that life was too short to panic all the time.

Of course that motto hadn’t really helped him hold down a steady job in the last four years, but at least it was a motto. Not many people could say that they had a motto.
“You surprised me”, he said casually.

“We surprised you? Excuse me, but what do you think you’re doing breaking in here?” Ashok asked.

“Oh now, breaking in is quite an accusation. The door was open”.

“Well maybe the police would like to know how you happened to find the door open”, said Ramesh, forgetting what Ashok had said about the police. Ashok shot him a cursed glance and Ramesh winced.

“Hold on fellas”, Bernie held up his hands. “I was just passing by and heard you guys playing some music. I was curious that’s all”.

“Curious enough to pick the lock”, Ashok was adamant.

“Who are you anyway?” asked Raj. “You look familiar”.

“The name is Bernie. Bernie Watts. As I said, I was just passing by and heard the music.” He pointed to the pile of records and tapes. “You got quite a collection there”.

Ashok looked around the garage. “Listen Bernie, I’ll cut you some slack. Don’t mess around here again and I won’t call the police”.

Bernie smiled. “I’m sure that the police are the last people that either of us want around here”.

Ashok shifted uncomfortably. “Okay old man, you better make tracks”.

“Old man? Judging by what you guys were doing earlier, I could teach you a thing or two about the music business”.

“You were watching?” Raj asked. “What did you think?”

“What the hell you asking him for?” Ashok was getting frustrated. He picked up Bernie’s jacket and threw it at him. “Don’t push me old man”.

Bernie started to walk away. “Okay, but since he asked me what I thought. I think you guys need a whole lot of practice, some better equipment and someone to put you on the right lines”.

“And what are you? A record producer?” asked Ashok sarcastically.

“There’s no-one knows more about music then me. Especially this kind of stuff”. Bernie pointed to a Temptations album. “Seems to me that you guys need a bit of co-ordination, some sharp suits and maybe, just maybe you could go somewhere”.

“You really think so?” Ramesh was getting interested.

“I don’t believe you two”, Ashok protested. “This guy breaks in and you treat him like some sort of expert.”

“I’ve played with the best of them. Otis, Sam and Bobby”, declared Bernie.

The three guys looked at each other. They glanced back at Bernie who was smiling from ear to ear.

“Do you mean Otis Redding?” asked Raj.

“No. Otis Lifts. Of course I mean Otis Redding.”

“Yeah right”, Ashok dismissed. “And I’ve played with James Brown”.

“Oh really”, said Bernie, “I don’t recall you on any of the road trips”.

“Bernie. I think we’re finding it a little hard to believe that you could have played with anyone famous. I mean, no-one’s heard of Bernie Watts…and if you did all this stuff, why are you breaking into garages for a living?” Raj was genuinely interested in what Bernie was going to say.

Bernie took a deep breath. “America was a wild and crazy place when Otis and Sam broke through. We did crazy things, me crazier than others. I had to leave in a hurry and come back to England”.

“That I can believe”, said Ashok.

“England wasn’t quite at the same stage when I got back. It was just the beginning of the mop-top brigade and apart from a few places that were into their soul, there wasn’t much call for a guy like me.”

“So what did you do?” asked Ramesh.

“What any good soul man does. I drifted. A job here, a job there. I’m used to my share of scams as well”, Bernie glanced at Ashok knowingly.

“But I do know you from somewhere else”, Raj insisted.

“Well I was never on any sleeve covers, but I was on plenty of records. From the high notes to the baritone…Bernie Watts was your man.”

“I can’t believe you guys are buying this load of bull”, Ashok started to escort Bernie out of the garage.

“Soul music”, Bernie said. “Soul music is what you need.”

“What do you mean?” asked Raj.

“You guys are doing too many different things. You like Elvis, but the other two have their own thing. You need to find some common ground”.

“That’s exactly what I said”, Ramesh remarked.

Bernie stopped at the door. “Like I said, you guys just need a bit of moulding”.

“You’ve got some pretty good moves, and your voice had a good feel to it. Maybe you could help us a little”, Raj queried.

“What? Are you mad?” said Ashok.

“Why not? Maybe Bernie’s right. You guys aren’t into Elvis as much as I am, and let’s face it, Ramesh isn’t going to get too far with his Mohammed Rafi”.

“Hey”, started Ramesh. “My Rafi is on a par with anyone”.

“Maybe so, but maybe we should give this a chance. Next to Elvis, Sam Cooke was the next main man”.

Ramesh paused for thought. “Well, those sharp suits would make a change to my kurta. What do you say Ashok?”

Ashok shook his head. “I think I was mad to think this idea could work in the first place”.

Raj walked over to the tape deck and chose a cassette before inserting it into the holder.
The opening strings of ‘My Girl’ swept across the garage. Bernie started singing and his superb voice drifted around the room and brought a smile to the lips of Raj and Ramesh. They joined in the dance steps that Bernie was doing, while Ashok looked on with disdain. However, he couldn’t hold back for long and as he realised that Bernie actually had some rhythm, he joined in.

————–
This serial is fictional and any similarity with existing groups or individuals is unintentional.
Ravi Mangat is contactable on: rav38man@yahoo.co.uk