Looking back on my childhood and reminiscing about the cartoons and TV shows that aired at specific hours is pure nostalgia. Being young and carefree became synonymous with characters on a screen. But the more I think about it, the less often I recall seeing a brown girl take up space in mainstream media. She was sometimes physically there, but more often than not, she wasn’t. She always seemed to be the one looking over the main character’s shoulder. I guess you never really understand it at the time, but the ideas and media that you are constantly surrounded by get indoctrinated into your mindset. So, it doesn’t come as a surprise that I started believing that, as a brown girl from India, I just didn’t have what it took to have a starring role in a mainstream coming-of-age show.
Omg, she looks like me!
It was not until the release of Mindy Kaling’s Never Have I Ever in 2020 that I truly saw a familiar face on screen. Now, while I sought solace in this newfound show, I would be lying if I said the show didn’t tick me off a little. Yes, you’ve got a brown girl, Devi, as the main character, and yes, she is finally the girl who multiple hot guys are after, but can representation, or in some cases stereotypical representation, push the boundaries? Take Kamala’s character, for instance. Why did she have such a strong Indian accent when the actress herself, Richa Moorjani, does not? These hot-and-cold aspects of representation continue the conversation about the need for accurate representation in mainstream media.
Representation is a two-way street. Not only do characters of colour give young boys and girls someone to look up to, but it is also a form of socialisation in a way and helps reduce negative stereotypes against people of colour. It’s simple: the more you see a certain someone representing a certain culture, the more acceptance you have. It furthers the idea that you give yourself that much leeway and space to grow and make mistakes, much like Devi and gives you the autonomy to shape ideas and opinions through the screen for yourself.
representation shaped by ‘best of the Best’
Six years later, Maitreyi Ramakrishnan, who played Devi in Never Have I Ever, reprises her role as a brown protagonist in the Netflix original movie Best of the Best, written by yet another set of brown icons, Hasan Minhaj and Prashanth Venkataramanujam. As commented by Forbes, Best of the Best focuses on a niche world of South Asian culture largely based in America. As such, it also touches upon the difficulties in trying to associate yourself with a group of people. For some, you’ll never be Indian enough and for others you’ll never be American enough. It’s suddenly this huge responsibility of trying to preserve your cultures.Â
This time around, the representation looked slightly different. I actually felt seen. While I may not be part of a college Bollywood dance team, in the Best of the Best I heard the same Bollywood songs I dance to alone in my room make their way to Hollywood. Not only did the film capture the true essence of Bollywood dance and culture, but it also showcased the true nature of friendship and the truth behind being brown. Engaging with the ideas of beauty standards and the internal colourism present within South Asian communities, the movie highlights the true meaning of being raised brown.
Weeks, if not days, later, the Best of the Best title track started gracing my for you page as I scrolled through my reels. As clips of students who were a part of their collegiate Bollywood dance teams filled me with nostalgia, I understood what this movie achieved for representation.Â
representative, yet, stereotypical?
At a time when racism against South Asians is at an all-time high across social media platforms, Best of the Best does truly do its best to showcase the truth, yet, somehow still manages to feed into stereotypes. From the perpetuated “you’re not as pretty” one-liners to the “who’s going to marry you now”, the movie still continues to present a prejudiced view of brown family culture, regardless of its positives in representation. It’s a South Asian-centric film made digestible for Western audiences who often associate the culture with these generalisations.
Additionally, it certainly doesn’t help the film’s case when dialogue stating, “guys throw themselves at you like you’re the last plane out of Kabul,” was casually thrown out. A tragic real-life scenario suddenly became the butt of a joke. As a result, the writers of the movie were faced with immediate backlash, with many stating that the comment had no place in the movie that is meant to uplift South Asian culture.
but, why do we still have to ask for representation? isn’t that the bare minimum?
It genuinely surprises me that in 2026, we still have to search for and constantly ask for brown girl representation in mainstream media. The idea of representation, the simple idea of just wanting to see someone who looks like you on screen, should not be revolutionary, but it’s the actual lived experience of a large majority of the population. Representation is important and is fundamental for every single person to feel like their culture, their identity, is being showcased on screen. Yet, as normal as it should be, why is it still being treated as an achievement? Being represented on screen is the bare minimum and shouldn’t be a privilege that someone has to hope for. Representation is, and always will be, important, as long as you see someone who looks like you on screen as a kid, a teenager, or finally, an adult.