‘How was it ?’ I had asked my eleven year son as we walked out out the multiplex
after watching The Adventures Tintin.
‘Loved it !’, he had replied with a grin , ‘Can you get me all
the comics, please ! you have read them all, haven't you ?’
It had taken some convincing to get him interested in the blond boyish looking character who had been my favorite comic book hero since I was his age.
The crown jewel of my comics’ collection, Tintin had made his way up on favorite list. Herge’s illustrations would take me to the far away lands – Africa, Tibet, Middle East, America and even to the Moon!
It had taken some convincing to get him interested in the blond boyish looking character who had been my favorite comic book hero since I was his age.
The crown jewel of my comics’ collection, Tintin had made his way up on favorite list. Herge’s illustrations would take me to the far away lands – Africa, Tibet, Middle East, America and even to the Moon!
‘How about we read them together?’ I had suggested.
***
A pile of Tintin comics lay in front of us. I had
ordered several of them from Amazon. There were a few from my childhood collection - these masterpieces were still clad in the newspaper jackets that I
had put on them to save them from the rampage of time.
‘Careful’, I said as my
son unwrapped the Jacket to reveal the colorful
front page of Tintin and the Picaros – the hilarious plot that was set amongst imaginary
Banana republic’s of South America. He settled down into the couch diving into
the land of General Alcazar.
The yellowing newspaper jackets lay on the floor. I picked
up one which was almost brittle with age.
“Times of India
Sunday, June 15, 1986” said the fading letters on the header, just above
smiling faces of Kapildev and Ravi Shastri who were popping a bottle of champagne.
I carefully unwrapped other newspaper jackets - they were all within a couple of years.
‘Scooch over ‘ I nudged my son from my favorite spot on the couch
and settled down with a cup of tea and twenty five year old newspapers.
‘I thought you were going to read Tintin with me …’ , my
son complained.
But I had already set out on a time travel that took me back more than twenty five years – when I was almost as old as my son.
But I had already set out on a time travel that took me back more than twenty five years – when I was almost as old as my son.
****
I don’t read newspapers. I think that they are the best way
to ruin your morning. I believe that if the news is important - it would always find you. Today, news from a Sunday morning about twenty five years ago had found me.
“End for Ron , Blonde for Mikhail predicted” , the international news section had a piece covering an
astrologers prediction that Ronald Regan would resign over Iran arms
scandal and Mikhail Gorbochov would fall in love with a 19 year old air hostess. ‘Most Astrologers predict that next year would be disastrous ’ the article
concluded. ‘Not much of a change there‘, I chuckled.
'Can you turn off the TV please ?' my son requested, his eyes glued to the comic. The TV was showing a documentary on Tibetans and their struggle to get freedom. I turned it off and placed the remote on the coffee table.
My attention drifted to the small section in the Sunday newspaper that said “Today’s TV” with the Sunday morning programs that I used to wait an entire week for. The listing was next to an advertisement for black and white television sets. Mickey and Donald show was at 10 AM, followed by the kids soap 'Ek do Teen chaar' and then the celebrated Rajani at 12:15 PM.
My eyes would be glued to the black and white television showing programs ranging from Mickey and Donald’s show to the feisty Rajani – the vigilant housewife on a mission to fight against social issues under a semi-comical setting.
The Sunday Feature Film was V
Shantaram’s Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje – which I recalled even after twenty five years. It had been a painful movie to sit through at that time with its unending string of dances.
“Last ‘Rajani’ today” declared an article just below the listing that said that Mudra Communications would not be making any new episodes of
the celebrated TV serial. The last episode of Rajani at 12:15 pm.
I sat up excited. I still remembered that Sunday afternoon very clearly ! My mother had not stopped complaining about the end of her favorite TV program. "Why do they stop the good programs?' . "They should privatize the TV broadcasting", my dad had quipped in.
I sat up excited. I still remembered that Sunday afternoon very clearly ! My mother had not stopped complaining about the end of her favorite TV program. "Why do they stop the good programs?' . "They should privatize the TV broadcasting", my dad had quipped in.
The time travel was getting real . It wasn't an general day from the past that was reading about. It was a day that I could relate to now. A day that I had memories about !
A quick glance at the weather section which was just under the TV listing – it was 43 deg C (110 F) in Delhi. I cringed recalling the hot June afternoons. Tar roads would burn
and almost feel soft under the shoes due to the heat . A blast of dry westerly
winds , or Loo blowing from the
deserts of Rajasthan could almost vaporize you.
****
The economic section had news about Reliance Industries setting
up a new company for a massive petrochemical project in Hazira, Gujrat.
The company was to be named Reliance Petrochemicals. The company went on to become a household name in India and played a key role in shaping up Reliance Industries into an industrial behemoth. The owner of the company is now the second richest person in Asia and ninth richest in the world.
The company was to be named Reliance Petrochemicals. The company went on to become a household name in India and played a key role in shaping up Reliance Industries into an industrial behemoth. The owner of the company is now the second richest person in Asia and ninth richest in the world.
Scattered around the pages were advertisements - relics of commercial art with amusing copy writing. "Visit before or after marriage and regain health vigor and vitality", declared the advertisement of the celebrated Sablok Clinic - made famous but the wall graffiti advertisement campaign along the railway tracks of Delhi.
'Times have indeed changed', I thought, as I looked at the advertisement with an amused grin.
'How about some news ?', I opened the newspaper to peek into the inside pages.
This section was relatively well preserved and I shifted my attention to the headlines sprinkled across the pages.
I was Amazed by what I found there !
****
I could not believe that these headlines were from a newspaper that was twenty five years old. These headlines could pass as "News" even today.
'Uneasy calm in Lhasa', said another headline - that talked about the unrest in Tibet.
'Wait a minute .. didn't I see that on the TV just now..' , sat up flicking the TV on. The program was still on - throwing light on Tibetans and their struggle to get freedom.
'Perhaps the times have not changed that much after all ...' I sighed as I fixed my gaze at the television which was showing interviews related to the 2008 Tibetan unrest which had ended in rioting, looting and killing.
****
‘Hey ! I thought you were going to read Tintin with me …’ , my son complained as he saw me watching the television. I switched the television off and turned my gaze towards the stack of Tintin comics on the coffee table. "Tintin in Tibet" was on top of the pile.
A smile spread across my face. Colorful images of Tibet and Himalayas that that Herge had conjured in the comic book flashed in my mind - the monasteries, the levitating monks, the colorful kites and the snow clad landscapes. The images were in stark contrast to the fossilized reality. The fossilized reality that had not changed after twenty five years.
I picked up the Tinitin comic, stretched out next to my son and dived into the land of Tintin. I was happy that things had not changed there as well.
