Bawww Moments in Comics

Comics are supposed to be funny and happy, right? Well, that ship sailed away a long way back. Ever since Eisner wrote his wonderful A Contract With God, sequential art storytelling has deserved to be as highly respected in its maturity as any other form of literature. But then this post is not me justifying why I love comics.

Over the last few years, I've read thousands of comics, of all genres. Some which make me laugh, some which depress the hell out of me, some which are epic and others are brilliant in their dealing with mundane subjects. Every so often, I've come across a point in a comic where something really upsetting happens and which has been so beautifully portrayed that I will never forget it. It is not necessarily very important to the story. It is certainly not an aspect unique to comics, it is a challenge in any art form to memorably show any poignant moment so that it does not get relegated to any of the deaths and losses and sadness which our desentitised brains have seen over the years. But I believe a comic has the unique capability of juxtaposing the written word/dialogue with the image made exactly the way the creator wants it and such that both do not trample on each other.

So what makes such a Bawww moment successfully rendered. The test, to me, is that you should remember it long after you have read it, and indeed, make you want to read it again and again, and curse it under your breath for every single time. It should make you say 'this is not happening' even though you fully expected it to happen and should be incomprehensibly saddening when it is unexpected. It should not be depressing and send you into a black mood. Depression is never beautiful, and these moments are beautiful. This is why nothing from Maus is in the following list, although Maus has some of the saddest moments in fiction. Maus is just too depressing, there's no beauty to appreciate in it.

So here's a list of Bawww moments in comics which have truly hit me when I read them, in no particular order. Most of them are deaths, but I guess that is natural. For the record, each of these comics series/titles are excellent reads and I would recommmend them to anyone (unless you hate comics, but then you have probably stopped reading this anyway). The list has spoilers, so if you are interested in the comic, you may want to skip it.

Y-The Last Man: Okay, I lied when I said this list is in no particular order. There is one scene which is unquestionably on the top and hit me the most and deserves to be first. If I had read it ten years ago, I would have probably cried. It's in the last issue, the epilogue, the scene where the capuchin pet Ampersand dies.

Sandman: This had to be there somewhere, right. Well, yes and no. I'm not talking about Morpheus' death. Not even any other death in The Kindly Ones storyline, most of which were, I think, more heartbreaking than the big one. This scene is in issue #46 in the Brief Lives storyline, the one where the shriveled, weak Bast wakes up from Morpheus' dream conversation. That image was completely unexpected to me, and although it is a footnote in the series, I think it is one of the most powerfully written parts of Sandman.

All-Star Superman: If you have read it, this one is pretty easy. It's Pa Kent's death in issue #7 and Superman's sudden realisation from somewhere far away that he can't hear his heartbeat anymore.

Identity Crisis: The beginning of issue #6, when Robin discovers his father's body, and Batman holds him for comfort. Of all the deaths in the Bat-verse over the years, this one is probably the best written.

Pride of Baghdad: The last scene, when the lions are killed.

Silver Surfer - Requiem: The end where Galactus comes to mourn the impending death of his one-time faithful servant, Silver Surfer. If you have the minimum idea of who Galactus is in the Marvel Universe, then you can guess how this reaction is supremely poignant, especially with the near perfect dialogues which were written here.

Lone Wolf and Cub: Ogami Itto's death. Anyone who's read the comic will understand that the complete abruptness of the ending completely throws the reader off before the realisation of what happened hits. I couldn't sleep the night after I had finished it.


There are more, but I guess these are the biggest bawww moments in comics to me.

Taking Stock

Having nothing better to do on a Saturday before the football watching started, I decided to look into my Dad's liquor display cabinet to see what his stock of fire-water consists of; since, well, I'll probably be inheriting it now that he doesn't drink anything other than wine anymore. This does not include whatever he has stashed away in various trunks so it's by no means comprehensive.

1 bottle of McDowell's Celebration rum
3 bottles of Golden Eagle lager beer
half a bottle of Blender's Pride whiskey
nearly empty bottle of Seagram's 100 Pipers
2 bottle of Solan No 1 whiskey (shit, he used to drink this years ago. How does he still have them?)
1 bottle of Blue Riband gin
1 bottle of Silver Anchor gin
1 bottle of Genesis whiskey
half a bottle of Golconda brandy

Now for the really good stuff
1 bottle of Marquis de Pompadour champagne (we have champagne in the house??! Damn)
1 bottle of Old Smuggler's scotch
1 bottle of Chivas Regal
1 bottle of Johnnie Walker's Red Label
1 bottle of Johnnie Walker's Black Label
1 bottle of Justerini and Brook's (J&B) whiskey - Rare blend

hmm, not bad at all.

I have to check my (maternal) grandfather's fabled loft one day. It supposedly has stuff my generation hasn't been heard about and most people would give up an eye and a hand for them. What's common between my Dad and Grandad, you ask? They were both in the Army.

Times Gone By

Have been feeling very nostalgic lately, I do get into these moods now and then. Thankfully, this time it's not been about bad memories, for the most part. Mostly the happier times have come back, I guess I needed to cheer myself up, been feeling unaccountably down for a while now. But the remembered memories have been very varied, stretching over years and places, and about completely different things, things I thought I had forgotten and things which I can never forget. Don't remember when was the last time I flashed my life back so much.

Let's see, in the past few days I have recollected...

The adda outside Amartya Sir's (Maths tuition) classroom before the gates were opened. Good, fun times with certain friends I never met anywhere else and probably never will.

Screaming silently and going mad when Juliano Belletti scored the winner for Barca in the 2006 Champions League final. The silent part was because my Dad had made an exception and let me watch the match which was then in his bedroom in mute and I couldn't wake him.

The time, in class VI when I moved to a new colony in Delhi and a school friend introduced me to the cricket playing kids. Somehow the team selection was poor and I was the only one in my team who considered himself to be a bowler (that's a rarity in kids). So even though I was a newbie, I got the first over.
I took four wickets in my first five balls. If there ever was a fairytale debut, this was it.

The time when we were playing football after school in DBPC (class XI, I think) and I scored my best goal ever. I went to receive the throw in well within my own half. The throw was poor and onto my head, with two opponents guarding me. I improvised a turn with a short seal dribble and left them behind. Looked up and saw no teammate in front of me to pass to. So I took off, beat four defenders and then the keeper with a neat finish. It's one of those things which I can unashamedly boast about, and do. As soon as the ball touched my head I got the feeling that nothing can go wrong, I know exactly what to do. Guess other footballers will know what I'm talking about. Even when I grow old and start losing my memory, I have no doubt the memory of that feeling is one I will hang on to till the end. For the record, my favourite part of the move was the finish, although most people remember the head dribble.

Someone called Mehtab Samra. I have met him once in the last 12 years and have no contact with him. Yet, I consider him to be one of the best friends I ever made (and I have made quite a few). We were inseparable. In fact, in school we talked so much, they couldn't shut us up just by ordering us to sit in sifferent desks. They had to put us in different classrooms. Wonder what he's up to now.

The time I got electrocuted by a lamp-post. I was stupidly swinging around it and my hand went inside the open fusebox.

Various parts of the Rajasthan trip we took in 1995. It's part of my earliest clear memories.

Various parts of the Himachal trip we took in 2000. When we were staying in Manali, my Dad had the bright idea to take a walk in the night. We started without a torch and walked till we couldn't see anything and then we walked some more before common sense forced us to turn back. Next morning we retraced our steps and realised we had come as close as 3 feet from the bank of River Beas which ran next to where we were staying. It wasn't one of the wimpy calm rivers either, it was a mountain river and was frigging fast and rocky and dangerous. We had nearly died without knowing it.

Cinna's house, and the time when we made that satellite dish thingie for the science exhibition. We called it a PSCD unit; P-something Sound Collecting Dish. Spending those couple of days i making it is one of the most fun times I ever had.

The time, the only time, I flunked Maths, in class IX. I flunked because I got suddenly freaked out before the exam and the exam went badly. I resolved to never get scared for any exam ever again. I haven't yet. Touchwood.

The time when I was forced to debate in school by the blasted teacher because the chap didn't turn and I was the blasted VP of the House, on the day of the debate when the motions had been released a few days back. My knees were knocking badly behind the podium while I gave my speech; public speaking is not my thing. Still, I came 6th out of 16, that's not so bad.



Remembered a few other things too, but the post is too long already. I'll leave that for next time. If you are thinking why there are no law school memories on the list, it's because law school is very much the current phase of my life, I have nothing to feel nostalgic about. It's not yet a time gone by.

Neil Gaiman and Batman

I've been waiting for this comic since news of it was released months back - Gaiman writing a two parter Batman story. My favourite comic book writer on my favourite character (Yes, I'm an unabashed Batfan), it was a match made in fanboy heaven. The details of the story were kept under wraps and I'm not in the habit of reading previews, so when the first part of 'Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader?' released a couple of days back, I was more or less going into it with a blank mind. All I knew was that it would somehow tie-in with the current situation of Batman in DC Comics, which is that Bruce Wayne has, let's say, vanished (this is a huge oversimplification), and everyone else thinks he's dead.

It's every bit as good as I hoped for. Though it not clear whether the story is in continuity, it really doesn't matter, the focus is clearly on paying a tribute to the character and all the creators across decades who have made the Bat universe memorable.

*SPOILERS*
The setting is the wake of Batman. His body is lying peacefully in an open caskets and all his villains and friends are attending it. It's the kind of surreal premise which only Gaiman can pull off without confusing the hell out of the reader (well, Morrison too, when he feels like it). There's a couple of conflicting stories which come up regarding how Batman died and in these stories we see Gaiman's brilliance.

There are constant homages in the issue to the art and writing styles of the different eras of Batman (this issue focuses mostly till the 60s so I guess the rest will be seen in the second issue), even a little nod to the Adam West Batman and we see highly creative alternate realities which could have been. Like Alfred's story in which he says that all the colourful, memorable Batman villains were in reality Alfred and his stage friends (with Alfred as the Joker) who purposefully used outlandish gimmicks, an idea Alfred came up with to keep Bruce happy and not get too tied down by the depressing reality of ordinary crime.

In the background (within captions), is Bruce Wayne observing all this with a mysterious woman who may or may not be Death, and Bruce has no idea what the hell is happening here. The woman does and challenges Bruce to figure out what's going on in the cliff hanger.

The issue is a brilliant tribute to the icon of Batman. Gaiman has successfully extracted the most basic elements from the mythos and weaved it in a highly surrealist manner. Andy Kubert's art is superb, some of the best I've seen from him. Once can see here why the Kubert school and family is so highly rated. Their art may not be the most beautiful, but it is the most crisp and their sense of storytelling is second to none, specially in superhero stuff.

Can't wait for the second issue.

Oh, Robert Miles' 'Dream' started playing on shuffle while I was typing this post. Morpheus approves

Some Meanings of Liff

I'm a huge, huge fan of Douglas Noel Adams. I think he's the cleverest person to have walked the Earth in the last century.

So anyway, I was going through 'The Meaning of Liff'' again. For the uninitiated, its his made up dictionary on facts we all recognise but never bothered to put names to them. This gives an odd sense of familiarity to the reading and a strange realisation of those facts which we never thought about before. And then there are those which are simply outrageous and which only DNA can pull off. They're all brilliant. Here are some, picked completely at random.

HATHERSAGE (n.)

The tiny snippets of beard which coat the inside of a washbasin after
shaving in it.

BANFF

Pertaining to, or descriptive of, that kind of facial expression which
is impossible to achieve except when having a passport photograph taken.

DULEEK (n.)

Sudden realisation, as you lie in bed waiting for the alarm to go off,
that it should have gone off an hour ago.
(This one's painfully true for me. Lawschoolites will know what I'm talking about)

GILDERSOME (adj.)

Descriptive of a joke someone tells you which starts well, but which
becomes so embellished in the telling that you start to weary of it after
scarely half an hour.


GREAT WAKERING (participal vb.)

Panic which sets in when you badly need to go to the lavatory and
cannot make up your mind about what book or magazine to take with you.


MALIBU (n.)

The height by which the top of a wave exceeds the height to which you
have rolled up your trousers.


MOTSPUR (n.)

The fourth wheel of a supermarket trolley which looks identical to the
other tree but renders the trolley completely uncontrollable.


PELUTHO (n.)

A South American ball game. The balls are whacked against a brick wall
with a stout wooden bat until the prisoner confesses.


PLEELEY (adj.)

Descriptive of a drunk person's attempt to be endearing.


RAMSGATE (n.)

All institutional buildings must, by law, contain at least twenty
remsgates. These are doors which open the opposite way to the one you
expect.


SOTTERLEY (n,)

Uncovered bit between two shops with awnings, which you have to cross
when it's raining.


THRUPP (vb.)

To hold a ruler on one end on a desk and make the other end go
bbddbbddbbrrbrrrrddrr.
(so many memories come back with this one)

What is Freedom?

I've been pondering on this a while now. What is it really like to be completely free? None of us are.

There are always restrictions. Some say it is about equal opportunity. But to truly say there is equal opportunity you have to say that both of them have the equal capability to take it. Do any two people have that?

Others say it is about freedom of choice. Nobody ever has full freedom to choose. I cannot leave college if I wanted to, the repurcussions on my family will be too severe. Or is it that I chose to care about what happened to my family and which have influenced my decisions. Certainly there have been several points in my life where I've been tempted to chuck it all (and by all I mean all), what has held me back each time?

Society will always have rules and restrictions. Does this mean to be completely free one has to be outside the society? It seems to be so, then all of us hungry for freedom should simply leave society. Certainly this has been tried many times, but how many have succeeded. Where are the San Francisco hippies of the 60s, they're living sedate little suburban family lives or running a corporation or whatever. They are back in the society.

So what does this mean. I think it means that we never truly want complete freedom because the struggle for it brings the biggest fear there is - fear of the unknown. We don't know what we would get if we get what we wish for. So we rebel a bit and then join the mainstream, or our rebellion becomes the mainstream and then changes face completely. Restrictions are our security blanket and we're all Linuses who are scared to get rid of it. But he did it in the end, maybe the rest of us will take the cue someday, then again, maybe it's not such a good idea.

I was thinking of all this yesterday night when this song of Beatles (who else) started playing. I think it explains the struggle for freedom better than I ever could.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird fly Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Wrong Number

True story.

This happened today at my internship. Somebody called the number in the office room where is also the little table which is the internship workspace and one of the firm's employees picked it up. It was a wrong number which he duly informed the woman on the other side and hung up. Five seconds later the phone rang again. He picked it and hung up immediately to convey to the thick-headed caller that she had called the same number again.

Well, ten seconds later the phone inevitably rang again. Now our man got pissed. Us lowly interns looked over amusingly to see how he'll tackle it. He picked it up, listened and said (this loses some of its charm when translated from Bengali though), "Yes, Madam is in, I'll just call her." Then he kept her on hold phone for about ten seconds.

Finally he picked it up again and said, "I'm sorry, Madam is not here. She's gone out on a date with her boyfriend." Clearly the caller was taken aback because he had to repeat what he said to assure her that she had heard right. "Her mobile number, let's see, its 9836652235."... "Yes, yes that's it. But do not disturb her too much, she's on a private outing."... "My name? I'm Arindam" (he's not) and then he hung up for the woman and let her loose to harangue someone else. It was really a show of brilliant acting since he pulled it off impromptu with a completely straight face. By the end of it we were in splits.

Who knows, maybe the woman got our number the same way we gave her the next one, considering she was so adamant in believing it was the right number. If I were Douglas Adams I could have successfully spun out a theory of how the woman may be trying to call Madam for years now, only to be shunted from number to number, and ending up as the telephonic equivalent of some unsuccessful bounty hunter. Meanwhile, as a sub plot, Madam would be married and having her third kid by next month. But since I'm not and such literary talents are beyond me, I'll leave it here.

The Simple Things

Isn't it funny how the little things sometimes give you the most pleasure? I came to know yesterday (Friday) in my internship that I have Saturdays off too, along with Sundays. It pleased me no end, as much as my miraculous escape in a certain hellish course.

So that's four more days to completely laze around. At least I spent some of this one productively by whipping up a title image. I'm still very much a Photoshop newbie so every one of my creations makes me really proud (another one of those little things). Although this one was ridiculously easy to make once I found the right background in deviantart which I could crop and modify. It even somehow ended up with the slight blurry effect which I think enhances it.

I imagine it as Morpheus observing us from wherever he is (or something). The Earth and all of us are just part of a fine yarn which the Kindly Ones have yet to finish making something out of.

The Best Post Apocalypse Story Ever

My first post about comics, in this case a particular comic. A few days back I read a very highly rated manga called Akira, written and drawn by the manga pioneer Katsuhiro Otomo. And by freaking God, was it a mind-blowing experience.

It’s divided in six volumes, which does not come nearly close to the 28 volume ‘Lone Wolf and Cub’, my other favourite manga. But Otomo managed to make it just as epic and, in all the senses of the words, ground-breaking. You can actually see the rules of modern manga being single-handedly made right there. The art is simply superb, better than LW&C, and anyone who has read the latter and knows how highly I regard it (but that’s a post for another day) will know how serious I am when I say this.

When it comes to the story I confess I started it with little optimism. I mostly downloaded it to see what is there to rave about. I have always found post apocalypse stories to be clichéd and mindlessly violent, with more than a hint of a forced depressing atmosphere.

This isn’t.

Akira is set thirty years after an unknown explosion destroyed Tokyo and started World War III. Through the volumes we find what the source of the explosion – ‘Akira’ – really was and how it can potentially impact the future again (and does); in the background of the lives and actions of the two juvenile delinquent protagonists, and a solid cast of supporting characters. We see in the beginning that the people in Neo-Tokyo had mostly healed from the end of the world horrors from thirty years ago and how they keep on surviving whatever Otomo throws at them. Akira is as much a story celebrating human resilience as anything else. Unlike most other pieces of serialised fiction, there is never a fixed status quo (except maybe in the first two volumes) and the frequent restructuring of society is brilliantly handled. Events which you would conventionally have thought would happen somewhere near the end happen as early as the second volume, and this frantic pacing keeps throwing the reader off-guard. The humour is mostly good but it falls flat at times, its probably the weakest link of the manga.

In a very entertaining and completely non-preachy manner Otomo has weaved a beautiful discourse on the subjects of isolation (the character of Tetsuo and his actions remind me a lot of Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’), wars and politics, religion, greed and fear, among others. He shows the depths humans can fall and the heights they can rise. Tetsuo in particular remains the most poignant character I have read in quite a while. In fact, I fail to remember the last time I read a comic which had so many memorable characters for me. Perhaps Watchmen comes the closest.

Like I mentioned before, Akira (and the subsequent film adaptation by Otomo – which I’m yet to see) is regarded as a pioneer of modern manga and anime. One can easily see why. The clichés of usual manga/anime fare – annoying, cocky protagonists, obligatory juvenile romances, some absurdly colourful side characters – are all seen here, yet they seemed fresh, even though I’ve experienced a lot of future wannabes over the years. I believe it is because Otomo successfully weaved them into the story rather than merely forcing them on it.

Lone Wolf and Cub still remains my favourite Japanese comic, but this came ever so close to dislodging it. So if you are a comics geek like me, this is a must read. For everyone else except those who absolutely abhor the genre (I can’t help you), its worth picking up and giving it a try. I know what’s the first thing I do when I have a faster net connection once I get back to college, find the movie and watch it.