I'm going to be honest. I'm a huge Beyonce fan, to the point where I may have referred to her as "Queen Bey" on more than one occasion. And I would say that I like Coldplay's music (at least the older songs anyways). But when Coldplay released the music video for their new song "Hymn for The Weekend" last week and announced that it was shot in Mumbai and featured Beyonce as well as Sonam Kapoor, I braced myself.

In the past, whenever Western media has tried to incorporate South Asian influences into its art, it has usually backfired. To this day, I shudder at the thought of "Bollywood" dance numbers in American television shows (I'm looking at you, "Smash"). But that's why I was so surprised by "Hymn for The Weekend," not because it got it right, but because the manner in which it got it wrong was so much more subtle than what I was used to.

So far, the social media response to Coldplay's new music video has been ambivalent, at least from an Indian perspective. While some say that it's no big deal and that there is nothing offensive about it, others have been quick to label it as cultural appropriation. And in my opinion, the latter are right to an extent. Cultural appropriation refers to cherry picking and using aspects of a culture you do not belong to without giving due respect to the nuances and intricacies of said culture. And Coldplay and Beyonce are somewhat guilty of that in "Hymn for The Weekend." Yet, to me, the bigger underlying issue here is something older than just cultural appropriation: Orientalism.

Orientalism, or the "exoticization" of Middle Eastern and Asian cultures in art and media, has been a common practice throughout all of Western history. Before travel to such places was realistically possible for many people, the Middle East, India, and China served as locations for fanciful stories of magic and barbarism. Yet even throughout the 20th century, when many of these areas became more reachable to the West, this same idea of an "exotic East" seemed to influence many of the works set in these regions. Therefore, one could only hope that the modern, globalized era would finally lead to the long overdue death of Orientalism.

I guess not. The entire video is rife with scenes of street performers and religious motifs, depicting India as the land of yogis and sadhus, snake charmers and fire breathers. Quick shots of a child dressed as Lord Shiva and some men as Hanuman are meant to be oohed and aahed at, without any proper context or explanation. And, for what seems like the millionth time in an American music video, there are children throwing colors at each other in the streets while Chris Martin just happens to walk through the middle of it all.

In the fictional India illustrated by Western media, no one actually has time to do anything because they're all constantly playing Holi. Never mind that it's a religious festival that happens just once a year. If Coldplay wanted to add mysticism and magic to their music video, there are many ways they could have done it without relying on a real culture that actually exists.

But it's not just Coldplay that has committed a cultural faux pas; the portrayal of Beyonce seems entirely out of place as well. Throughout the course of the video, Beyonce is wearing either an orange outfit with heavy jewelry, dark eye makeup, and ornate henna, or a long gold dress with what appears to be a cape as well as a flowery hat. The former isn't necessarily bad or good, as it doesn't seem too far away from an actual Indian outfit. But it's the latter that is the issue.

While portraying a Bollywood star in the movie within the music video, Beyonce's outfit bears little to no connection with actual Indian culture. This is especially true of the plunging neckline, which any Indian auntie could tell you has no relation to anything traditionally Indian. While it would be great if the outfit was used to show off the modernity and creativity of India that often seems to be missed by Western media, the juxtaposition with the more traditional outfit makes me think otherwise. Ultimately, I find it hard to believe that in a city like Mumbai, an actual Indian outfit that shows off Beyonce's beauty couldn't be found.

And what role does Bollywood actress Sonam Kapoor play in all this? Little to none. And that's the point. In a literally seven-second (I counted) cameo, Sonam is seen briefly running and then throwing flowers into the air at Vasai Fort. End of cameo. I'm sure there were many extras with more screen time than Sonam. Her inclusion in the video seems more like a "just for authenticity's sake we'll acknowledge that you exist" rather than a genuine attempt to have her be a part of the story. And the convenient placing of her scenes towards the end seems more like a ploy to garner larger numbers of Indian viewers and have them watch the whole video than anything else.

But if this music video is so plagued by outdated ideas regarding what India is really like, then why are more Indians not outright upset about it? This is where it gets more complicated. For one, it seems that some Indians may like the recognition. As the country with the world's second largest population of English speakers, India consumes a lot of Western media. However, it seems that only rarely do people outside of the subcontinent take an interest in Indian culture.

Therefore, inaccurate portrayals of India are given a pass because they seem to be the only attempt the outside world is making. This can even be seen in the attitudes of South Asian immigrants to the United States, who are happy to see any visible attempt at reproduction of their culture on non-Indian screens. Secondly, the bar is set pretty low when it comes to music videos set in India. Compared to MØ's misplaced arm flailing and pelvic thrusting in Major Lazer's "Lean On," as well as Iggy Azalea's takeover of an Indian wedding in the acid trip-like "Bounce," "Hymn for The Weekend" might be one of the least offensive uses of India as a backdrop.

But what now? Should we let videos like "Hymn for The Weekend" slide because of their relative harmlessness and instead just hope that over time creators learn how to take a more nuanced approach to incorporating South Asian culture into their content? Or should we question and challenge every single instance of even the slightest amount of Orientalism and/or cultural appropriation at the risk of scaring people out of ever trying to understand our culture?

The truth is, I don't know. One would hope that in trying to portray a different culture, artists would be receptive and open to commentary and criticism. Yet it seems that India is fated to remain the exotic, spiritual, fantasy land for Western imagination that it has always been.