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TV soaps, comics and a classic

P. Devarajan

CARTOONS, comics and TV serials make about 40 per cent of the life of any urban Indian and that includes a large number of dwellers in the relatively posh slums of Dharavi in Mumbai. Another 40 per cent of a Mumbaikar's life is spent in trains and office s leaving a measly 20 per cent for sleep and other oddments like purchasing items put on show during TV breaks.

People buy newspapers to do crosswords in the local trains as all are tired of politicians, businessmen and their evaluation by uppity journalists. For me, Keshav in recent times, is about the best political cartoonist as his graphics need no words. They make you laugh and think. The latest on Bal Thackeray jumping through a police handcuff to walk away free like a trapeze artist beats all.

In comics, my favourite continues to be `Denis the Menace' followed by `Born Loser' and `Beetle Bailey'. One has tried in private to come up with some drawings but never been able to go beyond a few crooked lines.

Among TV serials, if one leaves out sports and `Kaun Banega Crorepati', the toppers are `Tu Tu Main Main' and `Saans' (mainly to watch talented Neena Gupta) though the family sees quite a number. One would like to suggest `Saans' has started dragging and it is time Neena came up with a quick ending.

`Tu Tu Main Main' is good specially for Rema Lagu though the actors could tone down on the decibels. My family has put an informal ban on watching cricket, any cricket, having lost faith in every player including Sachin, which is sad.

They do not agree that all sports is fixed, with each having its particular lingo and style. Somehow channels showing English films have never made me sit quietly in the easy chair as most of the time one cannot pick up the dialogue.

In recent times, my daughter Vidya and myself have started spending 30 minutes of TV time on `Heidi'. Both await the fine animation of Heidi, a German girl. I had never heard of Heidi and after some 10 episodes started looking around for the book. Most b ook stalls do not know about it.

Yet one was confident of picking up the book at the rows of second-hand book shops at Flora Fountain and that happened. After a miserable day in RBI trying to grasp the nuances behind a dipping rupee against the dollar, one lay relaxed for an hour on a w ooden bench in the garden at Horniman Circle.

Overhead a blue sky was occasionally dotted by an eagle resting on a windstream and watching it, all thoughts of monetary policy, banks and markets fell off making the trudge back to office happier and lighter. On the way, one spotted Heidi, a Children's Classics, written by Johanna Spyri sticking out from above a bundle.

The `bhaiya' demanded Rs. 30 before agreeing to sell at Rs. 20. Over the whole of a rainy Saturday one finished the 182-page book which has no intro and no notes on the author. The idea of reading a Children's Classic brought a sneer from some of my frie nds. Well, only a very few have a taste for Campari.

Over the last few days one has read the book twice with its ordinary beginnings: ``From the old and pleasantly situated town of Mayenfeld a path leads through green, shady meadows to the foot of the mountains which look down from their majestic heights u pon the valley below. As the footpath begins to slope gently upwards, the fragrance of the nearby heath, with its short grass and vigorous mountain plants, fills the air; then the way becomes more rugged and the path rises steeply towards the Alps.''

From the first morning, Heidi and Alm Uncle (Grandfather of Heidi) get along well at the top of the mountain. ``... The grandfather went back to his seat outside the hut and sat silently blowing clouds of smoke from his pipe while Heidi began to inspect her new surroundings. She found a shed, attached to one side of the hut, which housed the goats. She peeped in and then walked round to the other side of the cottage where there stood three old fir trees. A strong wind shook their thick branches and the child stood still, listening to the moaning of the wind in the ancient trees. Then she completed the circuit of the cottage and returned to where the grandfather sat,'' the tale goes.

The story of Heidi is straight and is no strain on the thought process. Over time, Heidi grows on the grandfather and Johanna writes, ``She will grow up with goats and birds. That way she will learn nothing evil.''

Heidi is taken away to Frankfurt and the tale goes up hill and down valley. The backflap of the book sums up the Classic well: ``Heidi was only five when she went to live with her grandfather in his little wooden cottage high up in the Swiss mountains. T he old man was a bit frightening at first, but she grew to love him, and made friends with Peter, the goatherd and his grandmother. Life was perfect in the meadows until one day her aunt arrives to take her back to the city -- but she does see her grandf ather again.''

Rajimol caught me reading Heidi in the office and inquired whether one had read the follow-up edition where Heidi marries Peter. I don't mind reading the second volume though I wish the sequel was never written. The fun in reading many times Swami and Fr iends of R.K. Narayan lies in the author parting with Swami abruptly. Some things should be always left unsaid.