MERRINEWS.COM Why can't cartoonists have all the fun! Sajith Kumar 23 April, 2012 On the hot debatable topic 'Do cartoonists have the right to offend people'? Sajith Kumar of Financial Chronicle who won third prize in Maya Kamath award for 'Excellence in Political Cartooning - 2011' speaks his mind out.

I HAVE been fascinated by the art of cartooning from the early years of my life. The days marked by idealism and big ideas to change the world, at the core, I think this is what makes one a cartoonist. A picture is worth a thousand words, though a cliched definition of cartoon, I believe is a mighty sword with which we can cut people to size however mighty they may be. Also as an individual who's sensitive to issues happening around him, what better tool can one ask for to engage creatively with his environment. Cartoonist is the child who tells the world the emperor is naked. Without him, the emperor would have never realised he's living in a false world. The same holds true with democracy too. Cartoonists constantly remind the politicians about the people whom he's representing. Like the voice of the voiceless, cartoonists play a pivotal role in a functioning democracy. How fearless a cartoonist can go about with his work, is one big litmus test any democracy should pass. A free cartoonist is the face of a strong democracy. Indian cartooning had come strong from hard times like emergency, when the cartoonists were censored and humour was considered a national threat! Corrupted by power, a few men took the country for a ride. The legendary cartoonist Shanker, had to shut down his weekly, and equally great cartoonists like Abhu and Vijayan were asked to keep silent, which they never did. So the arrest of the professor in Calcutta, brought back the memories of those dark days. From the day one she took office in Writers building, Mamata Banerjee had worked really hard to lose all the goodwill she had earned so far. So let the 'poribortan' begin within Mamata, people of West Bengal are praying for it. Political intolerance towards cartoons, is a sign of bad times to come. And I believe it’s a cartoonist’s duty to prevent it from happening. There are lines which cartoonists should not cross, like provoking religious sentiments and many such issues. All sensible cartoonists follow an unwritten code of conduct, which prevents them from doing any indecent work. Vengeance should not be a cartoonist’s motto, his mission is to uphold truth. Cartoonists provoke, his satire can be hard hitting and there is high chance the subject barks back, but there the cartoonist wins as his cartoon's purpose is met! My cartoon readers are from all shades, a work liked by some shouldn't necessarily evoke similar reaction from others. Many times hardliners of various parties have called me up to protest my views, but they've never threatened me and I am really happy my work base is not Kolkata but I will surely work towards correcting Didi, checking her misadventures and reminding her she is a mere CM in our strong democracy!

Vishwajyoti Ghosh’s graphic novel Delhi Calm, is a simple but extraordinary piece of work that shakes us out of our collective oblivion. The book mocks our apathy towards the world outside us, by ruminating the darkest days of independent India’s history – the Emergency – which most of us tend to feign never happened. An illustrated narrative, Ghosh’s debut novel is part fiction and part history.

Curiously, the novel begins by stating that any resemblance to the living or the dead is coincidental and self-censored. But this feeble claim falls by the wayside as the novel takes us through the lives of three idealistic men, Parvez Alam, Vivek Kumar and Vibhuti Prasad who long for change. The 1970s was a time when democracy was ruled with an iron fist. Change was in the air, when the Prophet (JP), a man of high moral authority, began ‘total revolution’. And the three men set on their sail to see the change they dreamt of to bring forth an egalitarian, socialist democracy. A music band called 'Naya Savera Band' takes the message of revolution and change to the villages, garnering support for the prophet and it happened to be an ideal platform for the three. But soon the three drift apart only to regroup when Vibhuti Prasad moves on to Powerpolis (Delhi) and into the thick of the happenings, in the middle of biggest civil crisis ever to grip the nation.

The sepia strewn panels of the graphic novel unravel the rise and fall of Mrs Moon (Indira Gandhi) and her two sons, the Pilot and the Prince. Ghosh beautifully narrates Mrs Moon’s penchant for power and how one of her sons takes on the sterilisation programme to control birth rates at a time when ‘India is Moon, Moon is India’ (does this parody slogan ring a bell?). In the guise of nation building, Mrs Moon suspends the fundamental rights of people by asking them to talk less, work more and to shut up. Moon almost succeeds, her son Prince pulling the strings from behind the curtains, making people believe the code of discipline forced upon them would change the nation for the better! It’s in this maze of affairs that the three young revolutionaries under the tutelage of the Prophet take on the mighty state.

Revisiting a dark era is like unravelling a mystery. Ghosh’s brown strokes do the same in the novel. The imagery of the ideologically loaded characters gives us a sense of reliving a past we long forgot. Also, Ghosh brings in some surreal imagery like ‘smiling saviours’, shown as propagandists committed to ensuring a healthy, smiling nation, and hot air balloons -- all adding to the mystery of that dark period -- a deep darker one. From the matchboxes to the radio sets, to the advertisements in the novel bear the mark of the time of the 1970s India. And as the novel ends, a panel in which a sign board reads, “Welcome to Delhi, but not talk about 1) Emergency 2) 1984 Delhi riots 3) Babri (Masjid) demolition, Gujrat riots...”. Ghosh’s rendering of the cityscapes of Delhi is a remarkable work. Delhi Calm stands out with its excellent caricature and prose.

This book is among the first in the yet-to-be-explored world of graphic novel genre in India. Through his brilliant narration and creative streak, Ghosh brings in a fresh breath of air proclaiming Indian graphic novelists are as best as the world players. One hopes it sets a standard to all upcoming graphic novel projects in Ind

RED IS THE NEW YELLOW,WHITE AND GREEN.

My memories are painted red. Which other colour would symbolize the essence of a life lived in a communist state? Spending almost 24 years of my life in Kerala, which democratically elected the world's first communist government to power, and where Marx was considered next to God - as both coexisted well.Marxism was a way of empowerment people believed in,a way to dissent the oppressor,than other complexities they were taught in party study classes.Feudalism gave way to a more egalitarian society and we had local heroes to revere, who made it possible. People lined up for red volunteer marches, seeking their rights, Gheraos, thundering slogans, the young comrades in colleges who wore Che on their sleeves, whom we looked up to, the time when silk dressed men were considered bourgeoisie and every disputes got settled in party offices which acted as a quasi state whenever the party was in power, marks the heydays of the party in my memories. But I realise now, the people were blind in their belief in Communism. The latest news to hit headlines is the corruption charges against the party chief. But this isn't the news that will shook the masses whose staunch belief made this party grow, because they have already realized the red flag fluttering is no more of the peasants’ party but of an empire like CP(I)M Inc., their latest business venture being a water theme park. The factional feud that took party by storm was nothing but a struggle for power by party's two warhorses, than any ideological conflicts, because the party seems to have long shelved the outdated ideology finding it too unrealistic to put into practice. While the communists were drunk on power, a Malayalee terrorist was shot dead trying to trespass the LOC, a few others masterminded the Banglore blasts, Godmen and Godwomen took spiritual ventures into the booming real estate market, caste-based groups mushroomed and colluded with fundamentalists tearing the secular fabric of the state. It is no wonder the state is already slipping in ranks of social indices, which we boasted were the gifts of the Marxist revolution. It must be really saddening for the masses who built the party by their sweat and hardships to realize their Red is the new yellow, white and green.

State of slumdogs.

India is a secular state of slumdogs! The statement can’t be an exaggeration if you ever happened to be at the New Delhi railway station. Considered the nodal point where people from across the country would take the India story of hope and betterment to their remote hamlets, it seems, in deep contrast, to be a place where the euphoria is dying in the stinking parallel lines of despair and agony.

I happened to be here to see off my friend who had come calling for a Delhi visit. A first timer to the capital, thrown into the chaos, he said, ‘We are not to be called a giant elephant or roaring tiger, but donkeys!’ the state of capital's railway station says it all. No basic amenities, the incompetent information officers and the mad crowd -- to board a train from here seemed the toughest job we would have ever attempted in our life.
For the 1.40 PM train, my friend waited till 2 to get the first information that the train is late by 30 minutes. My friend would have had a nervous break down had he been alone carrying three huge bags of luggage. I took the pain to jostle through the crowd seeking whatever little information I can get of the delayed train.15 minutes later we got to know about the platform for us to board the train. Since I was denied the platform ticket for security reasons ( Republic Day security check), my friend had to make it alone to platform no 5.The ordeal would be over soon, I said and all I could wish him was - to guard his pocket, luggage and life!

Finally a faint voice cried that our train is destined to reach platform no 16. In only 10 minutes stay the train had at the station, my friend had to fly from platform 5 to platform 16! In the mad crowd outside, biting my nails I said, ‘Here am, my friend wishing you Bon voyage. But what story would you take home? An emerging superpower? The shining India? Or the land of destitutes? Dannyl Boyle and the likes, we've enough stories for you!