My life is a Comic - pt 1

When I was really young, I remember reading a lot of Archies. The were more accessible than superhero comics and much more entertaining than the Chacha Chaudharys and suchlike. On occasion, as I would be zipping through a double digest, my dad would take it and start reading aloud. 'Oh Veronica, you look lovely. SMOOCH! SMOOCH!'. My dad would quite enjoy himself, and exert himself to the maximum to get the full range of sound effects involved whenever Archie went near some girl. He would then look at me in mock surprise and say - This comic is FULL of kissing. Is that why you like it?, and grin.    

 

Blushing furiously, I would snatch the offending digest out of his hand and tell him that I was just reading it for Jughead (the inveterate girl hater). And it was true because I was at the age when the opposite sex was the enemy, and all contact was to be avoided. Even though I was strangely attracted, externally I presented a strong front, exhorting my friends to resist their lubricious feminine wiles. Of course, with age comes wisdom, and I soon realised that I was no match for them. But that's another story...

I still read Archies, but only when I go home and can get them from the library. They're light enough that I can eat, surf the net, watch TV and read them at the same time. Of course, there were a few superhero comics available then, with Phantom, Tarzan, Mandrake and Flash Gordon leading the front. Many were the happy hours I spent pretending to study, with a Flash comic hidden in my Social Studies textbook. Unfortunately though, I tended to get lost in that world of fantasy, at which point soft 'PEW PEW PEW' sounds would emanate from my throat, as I battled the hordes of Ming the Merciless. At this point my mom would storm in, confiscate my comic and leave me with  sore ear, which, let me tell you, was worse than any torture Ming could inflict.        

 

 Another comic, or should I say graphic novel, that I was very fond of was the Asterisk and Obelisk series. Goscinny and Uderzo crafted masterpiece after masterpiece with their wry french humour and witty stereotypes. I could read their comics time and time again and still do. Of course Uderzo continued the series after Goscinny died, with mixed success.

And of course, in the same format was Herge's Tintin with it's high adventure and the comedic timing of Haddock and Thomson and Thompson. To be precise. These can often have me laughing out loud, which is my criteria for a good book.       

Over the years, I've encountered many different comics, and being in a place where easy access to good comics was never easy, the ones I have run across are a motley and varied selection. Ranging from the indigenous Tinkle to Bone and The Blue Devil and Swamp Thing, all comics were grist to my mill.

The earliest comics I remember were the Walt Disney ones starring Mickey, Donald, The Beagle Boys and so on. Most of them involved Hewie, Dewie and Louie thwarting some inventive plan of the Beagle Boys to get their hands on Scrooge McDuck's cash.

In Delhi in the fourth grade He-Man mini booklets were the latest craze. They used to come in plastic pouches, four to the sheet, and I collected them avidly. It was an expression of my interest in science fiction and fantasy, and besides, Teela and The Sorceress  interested me strangely. 

  

 To be continued....