In 2025, the landscape of South Asian representation in mainstream media is more visible than ever. One of the leaders of this change has been Mindy Kaling, a pioneering force behind shows like Never Have I Ever and The Sex Lives of College Girls, continues to dominate the cultural conversation. Her new Netflix project, Running Point, will be released on February 27, 2025, promising yet another installment in her signature brand of light-hearted, geeky, girlfailure narratives.
Kaling’s rise to fame was undoubtedly groundbreaking. As a first-generation South Asian woman carving out her own space in Hollywood, she made waves with The Mindy Project and broke barriers in ways that still resonate today. But she has remained the subject of criticism by many in the desi world. Characters like Mindy Lahiri and Devi Vishwakumar, are spirited South Asian woman navigating romance and personal growth. But while Kaling’s work has contributed to the proliferation of South Asian stories on TV, it also leaves much to be desired. Critics argue that her characters often embody the “girlfailure” trope—geeky, socially awkward, and obsessed with white male validation.
The Paradox of Progress
In a media ecosystem hungry for diversity, there’s an inherent tension between an artist’s freedom to create and the responsibility they bear as a representative of their community. Kaling has long been at the center of this debate, with many criticizing her for not fully embracing the complexity of brown identities. Her characters, while multi-dimensional and relatable in their own right, are often reduced to stereotypes: the awkward, self-deprecating brown girl longing for acceptance. Her protagonists are eager and desperate, reinforcing the sense that their worth is validated only through white approval.
The issue became particularly evident when Velma hit the screen. Kaling’s portrayal of the iconic character sparked intense backlash, with critics pointing out the lack of depth in her adaptation. Velma, typically the brain of the Scooby-Doo gang, was turned into a pale shadow of her former self, a weak character undermined by the very quirkiness that made her interesting.
In contrast, other portrayals of brown women on television, such as Kate Sharma from Bridgerton, have offered a refreshing change. Shonda Rhimes’ depiction of Kate as fierce, independent, and unapologetically herself contrasts sharply with Kaling’s often self-sabotaging, white-seeking characters. Rhimes’ portrayal of Kate, a dark-skinned South Asian woman, as the central romantic lead who doesn’t compromise her principles for love, provides a much-needed antidote to the “girlfailure” trope. Kate is not defined by her relationship with a white man; instead, she defines herself on her own terms.
The criticisms reflect the challenges of representing a diverse community while simultaneously trying to appeal to mainstream audiences. The South Asian diaspora is not a monolith. It is a complex set of experiences, ranging from cultural pride to the internalised racism that come with growing up in a predominantly white society. Kaling’s works have undeniably provided a window into these experiences.
The hope is not for Kaling to change her entire creative vision, but for her success to open doors for other storytellers who can offer a broader, more inclusive view of the South Asian experience. In a media landscape desperate for authentic representation, there is room for more than one voice. Kaling’s work is a stepping stone—groundbreaking yet frustrating in equal measure. While she has paved the way for South Asian stories to be told in the mainstream, the next generation of creators may be able to offer more depth, complexity, and diversity to the brown experience, ensuring that representation in 2025 and beyond reflects the fullness of the diaspora, rather than just a sliver.
