The amazing ‘Mihira’ was a package of sweetness that came every Monday. The country and the world in a nutshell, that’s what it seemed to be. So much knowledge conveyed in simple language decorated with photographs beautifully laid out, long before there was designing software.
Naturally, the eye went to the visuals. The photographs, illustrations and the cartoon strips. And that’s how, as someone once said, many children acquired the ‘poth kiyavana pissuwa (the reading madness.’
I have written about ‘Mihira’ before and also of S A Dissanayake who gave us Boo, Baba, Thus, Batakola Archchi, Yodaya and so many characters who became our inseparable friends. I need not repeat except to say this once again, prathama premaya mihiramai (Mihira was undoubtedly the first love).
[ප්රථම ප්රේමය මිහිරියි, මිහිරිම කාලය හා “මිහිර“ මතකයන්! Memories of Mihira days and when life was so much sweeter]
We called them Chitra Katha, literally art-stories. Cartoons. They were not ‘animated’ but there was more than enough animation in the stories and in what they did to us and our imaginations.
Such books were frowned upon and teachers would often confiscate them if someone was caught reading them. So the various parts of ‘Landesi Hatana’ writte by Dharma Sri Caldera and illustrated by Susil Premaratne were surreptitiously read and passed around the class. There was ‘Sathuta’ which contained more than a dozen serialised stories. I remember eagerly waiting for someone to bring the paper to class on Tuesday so I could read the next part of ‘Megha.’ The stories in ‘Sathuta’ were continued in ‘Madhura.’
Then there was ‘Siththara,’ a tabloid if I remember correctly, put out by Multipax. It quickly supplanted ‘Madhura.’ I remember Janaka Ratnyake’s ‘Ithin eeta passe…(so…thereafter…)’ with his flowing signature and characters with almost unnaturally wavy hair. Years later, when I worked at ‘The Island’ I met Janaka Aiya, a quiet, unassuming and absolutely humble artist who delighted in his work and always sported a smile, an ahinsaka sinahava which is not translatable as ‘innocent smile.’
Back to cartoons. Chitra Katha. There was and still is a series by that very name. Almost. ‘Amar Chitra Katha.’ A neighbour had dozens of books, all stories from what is now called India. Stories from the Mahabharata, Ramayana and heroic figures of the myriad of histories in the subcontinent. Wars, miracles, austerities, gods, demons, humans, human love, they had it all. I am not a student of history and therefore I cannot vouch for historical accuracy. Nevertheless these stories fascinated me and made me want to explore deeper, to seek confirmation or refutation.
The kings, queens, princes, princesses, gods, demons, sages, ministers and ordinary folk all looked alike. Maybe a single artiest or a limited team of artists had been employed by the folk who worked at ‘Amar Chitra Katha’ or rather the publishing house that gave us those fascinating stories. Then again, each individual had a character, a personality, a complement of skills or virtues or both. These were indelible.
Tintin. Asterix. They had their slots in the wider archive of stories which included novels and epic poetry. Even what I thought was decidedly inferior such as US comic books of the world wars, romance and the Archie stories had their moments. Later, even as an adult, I delighted in the ‘funnies,’ Charlie Brown, Calvin and Hobbes and of course The Far Side of Gary Larson.
For all the words I’ve encountered, I’ve always been more amazed by the work of cartoonists who, with a few words (if at all), a few brush strokes and clever juxtaposition could say what I could have to use 1,000 words to express.
There are people like S A Dissanayake whose work is known but names unknown or forgotten. They’ve made us walk on clouds. They made us believe that there will be another Monday that will make the sometimes disappointing intervening days somehow bearable.
['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a
column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day,
Monday through Saturday. This is a new series. Links to previous articles in this new series are given below]
Other articles in this series:
So how are things in Sri Lanka?
The sweetest three-letter poem
Teams, team-thinking, team-spirit and leadership
The songs we could sing in lifeboats when we are shipwrecked
Jekhan Aruliah set a ball rolling in Jaffna
Awaiting arrivals unlike any other
Teachers and students sometimes reverse roles
Colombo, Colombo, Colombo and so forth
The slowest road to Kumarigama, Ampara
Some play music, others listen
Mind and hearts, loquacious and taciturn
I am at Jaga Food, where are you?
On separating the missing from the disappeared
And intangible republics will save the day (as they always have)
The circuitous logic of Tony Muller
Rohana Kalyanaratne, an unforgettable 'Loku Aiya'
Mowgli, the Greatest Archaeologist
Figures and disfigurement, rocks and roses
Sujith Rathnayake and incarcerations imposed and embraced
Some stories are written on the covers themselves
A poetic enclave in the Republic of Literature
Landcapes of gone-time and going-time
The best insurance against the loud and repeated lie
So what if the best flutes will not go to the best flautists?
There's dust and words awaiting us at crossroads and crosswords
A song of terraced paddy fields
Of ants, bridges and possibilities
From A through Aardvark to Zyzzyva
Words, their potency, appropriation and abuse
Who did not listen, who's not listening still?
If you remember Kobe, visit GOAT Mountain
The world is made for re-colouring
No 27, Dickman's Road, Colombo 5
Visual cartographers and cartography
Ithaca from a long ago and right now
Lessons written in invisible ink
The amazing quality of 'equal-kindness'
The interchangeability of light and darkness
Sisterhood: moments, just moments
Chess is my life and perhaps your too
Reflections on ownership and belonging
The integrity of Nadeesha Rajapaksha
Signatures in the seasons of love
To Maceo Martinet as he flies over rainbows
Fragrances that will not be bottled
Colours and textures of living heritage
Countries of the past, present and future
Books launched and not-yet-launched
The sunrise as viewed from sacred mountains
Isaiah 58: 12-16 and the true meaning of grace
The age of Frederick Algernon Trotteville
Live and tell the tale as you will
Between struggle and cooperation
Neruda, Sekara and literary dimensions
Paul Christopher's heart of many chambers
Calmness gracefully cascades in the Dumbara Hills
Serendipitous amber rules the world
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