Spider-Man India, but... where from India?
A SUPER long post featuring talks of: cultural identity, characterisation, the caste system, and what makes Spider-Man Spider-Man.
I’m prefacing this by saying that I am a second-generation immigrant. I was born in Australia, but my cultural background is from South India. My experiences with what it means to be “Indian” is going to be very different from the experiences of those who are born and brought up in India.
If you, reader, want to add anything, please reblog and add your thoughts. This is meant to be a post open for discussion — the more interaction we get, the better we become aware of these nuances.
So I made this poll asking folks to pick a region of India where I would draw Pavitr Prabhakar in their cultural wear. This idea had been on my mind for a long while now, as I had been inspired by Annie Hazarika’s Northeastern Spidey artwork in the wake of ATSV’s release, but never got the time to actually do it until now. I wanted to get a little interactive and made the poll so I could have people choose which of the different regions — North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South — to do first.
The outcome was not what I expected. As you can see, out of 83 votes:
THE RESULTS
South India takes up almost half of all votes (44.6%), followed by Northeast and Central (both 14.5%) and then East (13.3%). In all my life growing up, support towards or even just the awareness of South India was pretty low. Despite this being a very contained poll, why would nearly half of all voters pick South India in favour of other popular choices like Central or North India?
Then I thought about the layout of the poll: Title, Options, Context.
Title: "Tell us who you want to see…"
Options: North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South
Context: I want to make art of the boy again
At first I thought: ah geez. this is my fault. I didn't make the poll clear enough. do they think I want them to figure out where Pavitr came from? That's not what I wanted, maybe I should have added the context before the options.
Then I thought: ah geez. is it my fault for people not reading the entire damn thing before clicking a button? That's pretty stupid.
But regardless, the thought did prompt a line of thinking I know many of us desi folk have been considering since Spider-Man India was first conceived — or, at least, since the announcement that he was going to appear in ATSV. Hell, even I thought of it:
Where did Spider-Man India come from?
FROM A CULTURALLY DIVERSE INDIA
As we know, India is so culturally diverse, and no doubt ATSV creators had to take that into account. Because the ORIGINAL Spider-Man India came from Mumbai — most likely because Mumbai and Manhattan both started with the same letter.
But going beyond that, it’s also because Mumbai is one of the most recognisable cities in India - it’s also known as Bombay. It’s where Bollywood films are shot. It’s where superstar Hindi actors and actresses show up. Mumbai is synonymous with India in that regard, because the easiest way Western countries can interact with Indian culture is through BOLLYWOOD, through HINDI FILMS, through MUMBAI. Suddenly, India is Mumbai, India is a Hindi-only country, India is just this isolated thing we see through an infinitely narrow lens.
We’ve gotten a little better in recent years, but boy I will tell you how uncomfortable I’ve gotten when people (yes, even desi people) come up to me and tell me, Oh, you’re Indian right? Can you speak Hindi? Why don’t you speak Hindi? You’re not Indian if you don’t speak Hindi, that’s India’s national language!
I have been — still am — so afraid of telling people that I don’t speak Hindi, that I’m Tamil, that I don’t care that Hindi is India’s “national” language (it’s an administrative language, Kavin, get your fucking facts right). It’s weird, it’s isolating, and it has made me feel like I wasn’t “Indian” enough to be accepted into the group of “Indian” people.
So I am thankful that ATSV went out of their way to integrate as much variety of Indian culture into the Mumbattan sequence. Maybe that way, the younger generation of desi folk won’t feel so isolated, and that younger Western people will be more open to learning about all these cultural differences within such a vast country.
BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH SPIDER-MAN INDIA?
Everything, actually. There’s a thing called supremacy. You might have heard of it. We all engaged with it at some point, and if you are Indian, no matter where you live, it is inescapable.
It happens the moment you are born — who your family is, where you are born, the language you speak, the colour of your skin; these will be bound to you for life, and it is nigh impossible to break down the stereotypes associated with them.
Certain ethnic groups will be more favourable than others (Centrals, and thus their cultures, will always be favoured over than Souths, as an example) and the same can be said for social groups (Brahmins are more likely to secure influential roles in politics or other areas like priesthood, while the lowers castes, especially Dalits, aren’t even given the decency of respect). Don’t even get me started on colourism, where obviously those of fairer skin will win the lottery while those of darker skin aren’t given the time of day. It’s even worse when morality ties into it — “lighter skinned Indians, like Brahmins, embody good qualities like justice and wisdom”, “dark skinned Indians are cunning and poor, they are untrustworthy”. It’s fucking nuts.
This means, of course, you have a billion people trying to make themselves heard in a system that tries to crush everyone who is not privileged. It only makes sense that people want to elevate themselves and break free from a society that refuses to acknowledge them. These frustrations manifest outwardly, like in protests, but other times — most times — it goes unheard, quietly shaping your way of life, your way of thinking. It becomes a fundamental part of you, and it can go unacknowledged for generations.
So when you have a character like Pavitr Prabhakar enter the scene, people immediately latch onto him and start asking questions many Western audiences don’t even consider. Who is he? What food does he eat? What does he do on Fridays? What’s his family like, his community? All these questions pop up, because, amidst all this turmoil going on in the background, you want a mainstream popular character to be like you, who knows your way of life so intimately, that he may as well be a part of your community.
BUT THAT'S THE THING — HE'S FICTIONAL
I am guilty of this. In fact, I’ve flaunted in numerous posts how I think he’s the perfect Tamil boy, how he dances bharatanatyam, how he does all these Tamil things that no one will understand except myself. All these niche things that only I, and maybe a few others, will understand.
I’ve seen other people do it, too. I’ve seen people geek out over his dark brown skin, his kalari dhoti, how he fights so effortlessly in the kalaripayattu martial arts style. I’ve seen people write him as Malayali, as Hindi, as every kind of Indian person imaginable.
I’ve also seen him be written where he’s subjected to typical Indian and broader Asian stereotypes. You know the ones I’m so fond of calling out. The thing is, I’ve seen so much of Pavitr being presented in so many different ways, and I worry how the rest of the desi folk will take it.
You finally have a character who could be you, but now he’s someone else’s plaything. Your entire life is shaped by what you can and can’t do simply because you were born to an Indian family, and here’s the one person who could represent you now at the mercy of someone else’s whims. He’s off living a life that is so distant from yours, you can hardly recognise him.
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, yeah? But, again, you’re looking at it from that infinitely narrow lens Westerners use to look at India from Bollywood.
AND PAVITR PRABHAKAR DOESN'T LIVE IN INDIA
He lives in Mumbattan. He lives in a made-up, fictional world that doesn’t follow the way of life of our world. He lives in a city where Mumbai and Manhattan got fucking squashed together. There are so many memes about colonialism right there. Mumbattan isn’t real! Spider-Man India isn’t real!! He’s just a dude!! The logic of our world doesn’t apply to him!!!
“But his surname originates from ______” okay but does that matter?
“But he’s wearing a kalari dhoti so surely he’s ______” okay but does that matter?
“But his skin colour is darker so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?
“But he lives in Mumbai so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?
I sound insensitive and brash and annoying and it looks like I’m yapping just for the sake of riling you up, so direct that little burst of anger you got there at me, and keep reading.
Listen. I’m going to ask you a question that I’ve asked myself a million times over. I want you to answer honestly. I want you to ask this question to yourself and answer honestly:
Are you trying to convince me on who Pavitr Prabhakar should be?
...
but why shouldn't i?
I’ll tell you this again — I did the same thing. You’re not at fault for this, but I want you to just...have a little think over. Just a little moment of self-reflection, to think about why you are so intent on boxing this guy.
It took me a while to reorganise my thinking and how to best approach a character like Pavitr, so I will give you all the time you need as well as a little springboard to focus your thoughts on.
SPIDER-MAN (INDIA) IS JUST A MASK
“What I like about the costume is that anybody reading Spider-Man in any part of the world can imagine that they themselves are under the costume. And that’s a good thing.”
Stan Lee said that. Remember how he was so intent on making sure that everybody got the idea that Spider-Man as an entity is fundamentally broken without Peter Parker there to put on the suit and save the day? That ultimately it was the person beneath the mask, no matter who they were, that mattered most?
Spider-Man India is no less different. You can argue with me that Peter Parker!Spidey is supposed to represent working class struggles in the face of leering corporate entities who endanger the regular folk like us, and so Pavitr Prabhakar should also function the same way. Pavitr should also be a working class guy of this specific social standing fighting people of this other social standing.
But that takes away the authenticity of Spider-Man India. Looking at him through the Peter Parker lens forces you to look at him through the Western lens, and it significantly lessens what you can do with the character — suddenly, it’s a fight to be heard, to be seen, to be recognised. It’s yelling over each other that Pavitr Prabhakar is this ethnicity, is that caste, this or that, this or that, this or that.
There’s a reason why he’s called Spider-Man India, infuriatingly vague as it is. And that’s the point — the vagueness of his identity fulfils Lee’s purpose for a character that could theoretically be embodied by anyone. If he had been called “Spider-Man Mumbai”, you cut out a majority of the population (and in capitalist terms, you cut out a good chunk of the market).
And in the case of Spider-Man India? Whew — you’ve got about a billion people imagining a billion different versions of him.
Whoever you are, whatever you see in Pavitr, that is what is personal to you, and there is nothing wrong with that, and I will not fault you for it. I will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from Central due to the origins of his last name. I also will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from South due to him practising kalaripayattu. I also will not fault you for saying he is not Hindu. I also will not fault you for saying he is a particular ethnicity without any proof.
What I will fault you for is trying to convince me and the others around you that Pavitr Prabhakar should be this particular ethnicity/have this cultural background because of some specific reason. I literally don’t care and it is fundamentally going against his character, going against the “anyone can wear the mask” sentiment of Spider-Man. By doing this, you are strengthening the walls that first divided us. You’re feeding the stratification and segmentation of our cultures — something that is actually not present in the fictional world of Mumbattan.
Like I said before: Mumbattan isn’t real, so the divides between ethnicities and cultural backgrounds are practically nonexistent. The best thing is that it is visually there for all to see. My favourite piece of evidence is this:
It’s a marquee for a cinema in the Mumbattan sequence, in the “Quick tour: this is where the traffic is” section. It has four titles; the first three are written in Hindi. The fourth title is written in Tamil. You go to Mumbai and you won’t see a single shred of Tamil there, much less any other South Indian language. Seeing this for the first time, you know what went through my head?
Wow, the numerous cultures of India are so intermingled here in Mumbattan! Everyone and everything is welcome!
I was happy, not just because of Tamil representation, but because of the fact that the plethora of Indian cultures are showcased coexisting in such a short sequence. This is India embracing all the little parts that make up its grander identity. This scene literally opened my eyes seeing such beauty in all the diverse cultures thriving together. In a place where language and cultural backgrounds blend so easily, each one complementing one another.
It is so easy to believe that, from this colourful palette of a setting, Pavitr Prabhakar truly is Spider-Man India, no matter where he comes from.
It’s easy to believe that Pavitr can come from any part of India, and I won’t call you out if the origin you have for him is different from the origin I have. You don’t need to stake out territory and stand your ground — you’re entitled to that opinion, and I respect it. In fact, I encourage it!!!
Because there’s only so much you can show in a ten minute segment of a film about a country that has such a vast history and even greater number of cultures. I want to see all of it — I want him to be a Malayali boy, a Hindi boy, a Bengali boy, a Telugu boy, an Urdu boy, whatever!! I want you to write him or draw him immersed in your culture, so that I can see the beauty of your background, the wonderful little things that make your culture unique and different from mine!
And, as many friends have said, it’s so common for Indian folks to be migrating around within our own country. A person with a Maharashtrian surname might end up living in Punjab, and no one really minds that. I’m actually from Karnataka, my family speaks Kannada, but somewhere down the line my ancestors moved to Tamil Nadu and settled down and lived very fulfilling lives. So I don’t actually have the “pure Tamil” upbringing, contrary to popular belief; I’ve gotten a mix of both Kannada and Tamil lifestyles, and it’s made my life that much richer.
So it’s common for people to “not” look like their surname, if that’s what you’re really afraid about. In fact, it just adds to that layer of nuance, that even despite these rigid identities between ethnicities we as Indian people still intermingle with one another, bringing slivers of our cultures to share with others. Pavitr could just as well have been born in one state and moved around the country, and he happens to live in Mumbattan now. It’s entirely possible and there’s nothing to disprove that.
We don’t need to clamber over one another declaring that only one ethnicity is the “right” ethnicity, because, again, you will be looking at Pavitr and the rest of India in that narrow Western lens — a country with such rich cultural variety reduced to a homogenous restrictive way of life.
THE POLL: REINTERPRETED
This whole thing started because I was wondering why my little poll was so skewed — I thought people assumed I was asking them where he came from, then paired his physical appearance with the most logical options available. I thought it was my fault, that I had somehow influenced this outcome without knowing.
Truth is, I will never really know. But I will be thankful for it, because it gave me the opportunity to finally broach this topic, something that many of us desi folk are hesitant to talk about. I hope you have learned something from this, whether you are desi or a casual Spider-Man fan or someone who just so happened to stumble upon this.
So just…be a little more open. Recognise that India, like many many countries and nations, is made up of a plethora of smaller cultures. And remember, if you’re trying to convince Pavitr that he’s a particular ethnicity, he’s going to wave his hand at you and say, “Ha, me? No, I’m one of the people that live here in the best Indian city! I’m Spider-Man India, dost!”
(Regardless, he still considers you a friend, because to him, the people matter more to him than you trying to box him into something he’s not.)
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Love Comes, Slowly. (Death Comes Faster.)
(Or, Furina falls ill, and Wanderer is confronted with the fact he cares a lot more than he realized.)
(He's got a name in this drabble too lads yippee!! He and Furina are close enough now he feels comfortable letting her call him by a name :] oh yeah and uh. This was not intended as shippy, if you were wondering, just to get that out of the way. It's platonic.)
“..ina. Furina!”
The white haired girl blinked owlishly, startled to attention. “Huh? What?”
“This is the third time I've called you,” Tetsuya frowned, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you daydreaming?” Furina flushed in answer, scratching the back of her neck.
“I've just been a little out of it today,” she muttered. That much was an understatement. She'd awaken with a fogginess in her head and a heaviness in her stomach that just hadn't gone away, and everything seemed to be processing twice as slowly, leaving her behind as the world kept moving. Was it always this warm, too??? Furina felt like she was baking, even for a place as warm as Sumeru, something felt off-
“Hey!”
Wanderer's hands grabbing her face snapped her to attention, and Furina instinctively leaned into them a little, comforted by how cool they were. In contrast, his pupils dilated a little - humans were always very warm in contrast to him, but Furina felt especially hot. “Are you sick?”
"I don't know…. maybe…?”
Tetsuya's eyes flashed with something unreadable, and he quickly took his companion by the hand, fear gripping his chest as much as he would deny it was there. “Well, we need to get you medical attention, then.”
“I'll be fine-”
“I know you will,” he asserted, “because we are GOING to get you looked at.” His tone left no room for arguments, and Furina stared at him hollowly before weakly nodding. She didn't understand why he was so vehement all of a sudden, but she didn't have much energy to be stubborn.
“Mkay…”
Tetsuya began to lead her through the city then, and she let herself be pulled along, slipping in and out of awareness as voices around her rose and fell like the tides. Very soon however, it was a struggle just to put one foot in front of the other, and Furina wobbled to a stop, a hand to her temple. Wanderer turned to her then, frowning. “What's wrong?”
“Tired,” she mumbled, barely able to keep her eyes open. “Achy, too…”
“We'll be to the clinic soon, just - we're going to get you some help,” he replied, and if she were fully coherent she'd notice his voice was slightly strained from barely concealed worry. “Come on. You can lean on me if you need to.” He seemed so far away, despite the fact he was right there, and Furina's legs buckled, too weak to support their owner's weight anymore. She crumpled to the ground, and Tetsuya froze, unable to move for a moment. And then the spell was broken, and he knelt by her side, frantic. “Furina!? Hey!! HEY!! Furina!!” With shaky hands, he took her pulse, relief flooding him when it came through strong and consistent.
It might not stay that way for long, though. You've seen this before.
Pushing that thought away, Tetsuya carefully wrapped one arm around Furina's back to support her and then scooped her up princess style - she was so small, and he noticed her cheeks were quite rosy, beads of sweat all over her brow.
..the fever's getting worse.
He had to hurry. He had to hurry.
Tetsuya swears he's never flown so fast before, everything whizzing by in a blur (and if his vision blurred for reasons other than his swiftness, no one needed to know). The moment he touches the ground again, he's racing towards one of the nurses, chest too hot and too cold all at once. “My friend collapsed,” (and it's startling, how easy it is now to call her that) “Help her. Please.” Furina was gently taken from his arms, and he lingered like a shadow as she was carefully placed in one of the beds, a cool cloth laid on her brow. “She gonna be alright?” Wanderer ventured, and his voice was so so small, expression more akin to someone centuries ago; someone who hadn't yet seen the depth of all the world's sorrows. One of the nurses turned and nodded, in reassurance.
“Her illness was caught early on, so she should be just fine. It's good you noticed quickly. She should be back to normal in a few days with rest, but you can spend the night if you'd like-”
“Absolutely.” He was not going to leave. No way in hell. Settling into a chair nearby, he tried to calm the storm in his chest, closing his eyes to clear his thoughts. The hours flew by, and eventually Wanderer sat up and gently shook Furina, to rouse her. “It's time for you to take your medicine. Come on.” Furina didn't move, and suddenly, he couldn't breathe, chills gripping him.
Oh.
Oh, god. God, please, no. Not again. Please, not again. He couldn't do this again.
“Hey,” Tetsuya called again, shaking the girl harder. “If this is a joke, it's not funny. You need to get up. They said you were going to get better, so you have to.” He'd made it in time this time, he'd - as soon as he could, he'd brought her here… so there was no reason that -
Tetsuya took Furina's hand, and to his horror, it was cold (like his) and limp. Just like - no, no no. This wasn't happening this could NOT be happening it couldn't!! “You can't just - leave me like this,” he managed, tears flooding his eyes. But she had. She had, and he didn't even get to say goodbye, and he couldn't breathe, sobs choking him. This time, he understood that death was a constant, that it would come and claim all humans eventually but-
...that didn't make it hurt any less, as much as he'd tried to deny it.
“Furina, come on, you're one of the only friends I have I - please don't leave me behind. Please - I'll do anything just wake up; wake up!”
I couldn't save you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
He can't stop crying. He's sprung a leak and he can't fix it and everything hurts so badly and a nurse is taking his hand and pulling him away and turning his face into her chest so he won't look, and he can't stop crying and he's begging her to do something, anything, but she can't. She knows that, and he knows it, too.
Furina was gone, and he couldn't do anything. No one could.
Tetsuya jolted awake, tears streaming down his cheeks, and gasped. Stars twinkled above, and he sat up after a split second of regaining his senses. It was a dream. It was just a dream. Then, Furina- getting up in a hurry, he raced to her side and shook her frantically, and to his immense relief, she stirred. Heterochromic eyes stared blankly at him, and she blinked sleepily. “Tetsuya…?? What - oogh!” He was squeezing her in a hug before she could process what was happening, tucking his head into her shoulder. “Oh….hey hey, it's okay,” Furina mumbled, patting his back weakly in reassurance. “M’just tired..why are you crying??”
“You're okay,” he barely managed, holding her like she'd disappear if he let go. “I had a dream and - no, it..it doesn't matter. It wasn't real. You're okay.” Wanderer's voice broke then, and he sobbed, relief overwhelming. “You can't leave me yet, okay? Not yet. Please. You're the best friend I ever had.”
“I'm going to get better, don't worry. They're taking good care of me here, and I'll be out in no time and - ….”
“What? What is it? What's wrong?”
“Nothing, just.. you said, I'm your friend-”
The young man froze, taken aback, and then eased up again, slowly nodding. “.. I did say that.”
“You mean it?”
“..Wouldn't say it if I didn't.”
Furina smiled, laying her head atop Wanderer's, and blue and white locks spilled into each other. “You're my friend too, yanno. Thank you for bringing me here when you did. I might be a lot worse off otherwise.”
“You don't have to thank me. I just - . . did what anybody would do.”
“Maybe, but I still want to thank you. Gotta make sure the people you love know they're appreciated.” Tetsuya stiffened at that, blinking rapidly. Oh god, she couldn't just - say things like that, he'd cry all over again and - he had to have misheard.
“You- …what?”
“You're my friend, and I love you,” Furina reasserted, and she said it so easily, like she was talking about the weather, like she was stating a fact of the world, and it shook him to his core.
“.. I - oh,” was all he could say, hot tears making their way down his face again. “Just. Just like that?”
“Just like that,” she nodded, and the tears fell faster. He loved her too, he realized - he wasn't quite sure the exact dimensions of it but he knew he cared for her as a friend would, wanted to stand by her side and defend her with everything he had. Still, it wasn't very easy to say that, so he hoped his actions spoke for themselves. She seemed to understand though, to his relief.
“..why?” Tetsuya finally ventured, because he did not understand. There were many things he did not understand, actually. What he did not expect was for her to answer his question with a question.
“Why not?”
“Why not? Because - …I mean, you've seen how I act.”
“Doesn't make you unlovable, yanno. You're prickly, yeah, but I mean. If love is conditional, it's not love at all. You care about me - the real me, and I care about you, flaws and all. And that's not gonna change. Okay?”
“...mm,” Wanderer managed, nodding once.
Just like that. Just because he was, he was cared for. Worldrocking, that.
They stayed like that for a long time, until one of the nurses came to take care of Furina, and soon after the girl fell asleep. Tetsuya watched how the nurse gently tucked her in and brushed her damp bangs out of her forehead, expression contemplative. Humans could be selfish, they could be deceptive, they could be cowardly - but they also cared about each other and they loved each other, too- and some of them had so, so much love to give, it was daunting. Here in one moment and gone the next but they loved so much and so deeply - and for a moment, he wondered if he could, too, love the world and everything in it or - most things. He didn't think so, but these days it did seem a little brighter than it had before. Maybe that was a sign he was changing, without realizing it.
He would think more about it later. For now, he simply held Furina's hand as she slept and leaned his head on the side of the bed, heart steady. They'd said she needed a few days to recuperate, and he would be here until then. She would be okay, she would be alright. There was nothing to fear anymore, and everything would be okay. He wasn't going to lose her - not for now, anyway.
..to love, and to be loved, was wonderful, he thought.
Maybe that was living.
..he could come to thrive in it.
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