By Desiree Cooper

Recently, I saw the year’s most anticipated movie from one of the biggest stars in the world…No, I’m not talking about George Clooney. I caught Shahrukh Khan, the megastar of Bollywood, the Indian film industry, in his new film, My Name is Khan.

My Name is Khan, which tackles the racial profiling of Muslims after September 11, 2001, has broken records for a Bollywood film, grossing more than $19 million worldwide since its Valentine’s Day release, and more than $2 million in its limited release in the United States.

In previous films, I’ve seen Khan as the chiseled heartthrob who rectifies injustices, gets the girl and throws in some song-and-dance to boot. But My Name is Khan explores how tensions between Hindus and Muslims, which flared into riots in Mumbai in the early 1990s, are overcome by love in post 9/11 San Francisco.

The romance between Khan (whose character is not only Muslim, but autistic) and the beautiful Kajol would be completely unbelievable if not for their convincing performances. After all, if we believed that a polio-stricken, mentally-challenged Forrest Gump could ignite a movement and get the girl, why not believe in the redemptive power of a Muslim with Aspergers Syndrome?

I was surprised how often the film referenced my home state of Michigan. In the movie, Khan’s brother leaves India to study at the University of Michigan. And when the terrorist attacks erupt, the ensuing violence against Middle Easterners in metro Detroit become sadly emblematic of the anti-Muslim paranoia that still grips Americans.

That paranoia leads to a tragic murder, and sets Khan on a mission to enlighten the President of the United States with one sentence: “My name is Khan, and I am not a terrorist.”

It was amazing to view 9/11 from the vantage point of Muslim Americans. I was moved by the similarities between their experience and the black experience: the fear of travel, the fear of “sticking out,” the lack of access to public amenities—even the denial of jobs. The kinship even emerged when Khan sang a childhood song, “We Shall Overcome.”

Ultimately, the racism against Muslims drives a wedge between Khan and his Hindu wife. She calls an end to their marriage, assuming her fortunes will change as soon as everyone realizes she’s a Hindu. But, Americans aren’t that deep. This is a country where turbaned Hindu Sikhs have been murdered because they were thought to be Muslim. Americans don’t split hairs when it comes to bigotry.

According to Wikipedia, “In an August 2009 interview, Shahrukh Khan stated that My Name Is Khan is “not about terrorism, or 9/11. It’s about a relationship between two people, between an individual and the State, and between an individual and the country. In short, there are three important components: love story, Islam and a mild form of autism.”

One disappointment: In the movie, Khan makes an almost comedic visit to a hurricane- ravaged town in the US state of Georgia, where the set looks like something out of Porgy and Bess. The family he befriends is, of course, Big Mama and her son, Buckwheat. In his attempt to reach out all humanity, Khan inadvertently displays how deeply ingrained racial stereotypes can be—and how amazingly global they have become.

Shahrukh Khan, I forgive you—your good intentions far surpass the clumsy moments in the film.

Besides, Khan is an example of art imitating life. Last summer, he was yanked off a plane at Newark Liberty International Airport for a “secondary inspection.” The detainment lasted an hour. Ironically, he was on his way to Chicago to promote My Name is Khan.

And even now, the actor is battling ethnic turmoil back in India. Hindu nationalist mobs have torn down posters of the movie and burned Khan in effigy because he spoke out in favor of Pakistani cricketers.

I love the movie, even without the characteristic Bollywood dancing and dazzling costumes.

Then again, discrimination is nothing to dance about.

Desiree Cooper is a contributing author to the anthology Other People’s Skin: Four Novellas. A former columnist with the Detroit Free Press and co-host of public radio’s Weekend America, she is now a freelance writer, BBC correspondent and novelist.