Tarantino's sex romp with Beejoli Shah: Why do we care?

In the age of the interwebs it’s a dangerous thing to kiss and tell. More so, if you’re sending out e-mails telling people that you made out with Quentin Tarantino, and attach photos to prove the fact. Instant infamy is inevitable in this age of all things viral. And  if you have an Indian name – never mind if you’ve killed someone, robbed a corner store, or canoodled with a Hollywood director – be assured that the Indian media will rush to claim you as their own. [caption id=“attachment_34482” align=“alignleft” width=“380” caption=“The ‘proof’ Beejoli sent her friends. | Gawker”]  [/caption] Indian news websites are filled with the predictable headlines: “ Indian girl spends night with Quentin Tarantino, tells all”; “ Indian girl reveals her one-night stand with Quentin Tarantino!”; “ Quentin Tarantino’s sexapade with an Indian woman!” Indian media logic dictates that if your name is Indian then so must you – never mind that you may have never set foot on our fair shores. It’s really a little sad.   By all accounts, Shah is a citizen of the United States. And while Gawker is still on a hunt to ascertain whether she is for real, UK online magazine The Daily Mail has dug up a wealth of information on her including the fact that she is a University of California Berkeley politics graduate working for a television production company in Santa Monica. She’s even appeared on an episode of the “Wheel of Fortune” (video below). But we don’t really need proof of her citizenship. Just the way Shah has dealt with this entire episode is so totally - shall we say- American. Look at this email she sent out.

We make out some more, there’s a little below the belt action that I try to avoid, as QT has the most unattractive penis I have ever seen (short. fat. nub-like. The chode of all chodes. Boys, those junior high pamphlets are lying when they say that all shapes and sizes are normal. Lying.) Just as I’m about to hyperventilate over the fact that he may try to put that horrific bodily implement anywhere near my Britney, he leans over and goes “Hey…” I know this “Hey.” This is the “Hey, should I get a condom?” hey that accompanies 20 minutes of ungratifying sex. As I’m trying to rapidly think of ways I can agent myself out of this deal, I hear what is without a doubt, the strangest question in the history of my life. Quentin Tarantino asks, “Can I suck on your toes while I jerk off?” What. The. Fuck. After some negotiations about how I would not partake in any of the hand job action were nailed down, I begrudgingly acquiesced. (And by begrudgingly, I realized I didn’t have to shtup the dude and said sure why not in about 0.03 seconds) And thus began the weirdest ten minutes of my life - having my feet made out with by an Oscar winning filmmaker while he pleasured himself. Truth be told, it wasn’t so bad. I didn’t have to do anything (a nice bonus, since I am undoubtedly the laziest person in bed, which some of you can attest to), no bodily secretions were ejected anywhere near me or my feet (thank god, because I imagine it would feel like walking in sand with wet I fucking hate that), and just as I hoped, we went to bed right after.

The tone of the mail is unabashed, almost exulting. Not exactly the kind of email most Indian women would write – maybe that’s because she is not exactly Indian. Read the entire mail here. In 2009, Nobel prize winer Venkatraman Ramakrishnan declined to be a role model for science students in Tamil Nadu because he had only lived in India until he was three years old. “It’s not about where you were born, or where you come from that makes you a good scientist. What you need are good teachers, co-students, facilities. I honestly don’t think my roots have much to do with it. I’m sure this won’t make me popular, but this is what I think", he said in a speech that was reproduced by The Hindu No, it won’t be ‘popular’ because we love basking in the reflected glow of anyone we can claim as remotely Indian – including Beejoli Shah. While she won’t be winning a Nobel prize anytime in the near future, she is definitely getting her 15 minutes of fame. And the Indian media seem eager to hitch the national wagon to her attention-seeking star. But what is more interesting is that our newspapers are not judging Shah – or treating the situation as a moral shame – as they have done with Indian women in sexually compromising situations in the past. Back up a few months to the JNU MMS incident, the headlines screamed ‘Shame" and “Scandal”. As with the earlier case with the DPS schoolgirl, the media furore was tinged with disapproval, carrying the implicit message that the girls had brought their shame on themselves. As Dev D’s Chanda – inspired by the real-life MMS victims – so aptly put it, “Half the country got off on that clip. They downloaded it. And they turn around and call me the slut.” And imagine if typical Indian girl, resident of Hauz Khas village in New Delhi, had sent out a mail like Beejoli did? Would the articles have been just as light hearted and forgiving? Or more to the point: would they have been so quick to claim her as Indian? Or would she be dubbed an aberration, a sexual freak who flouted the norms? Video of Beejoli on Wheel of Fortune: