My Childhood Love – A Naked Truth – A Caricature of Life!

Important Note:

This isn’t the usual fare that’s served at this blog. If you’ve arrived here through a search and if you are looking for caricatures click the Gallery link and if you are here for the Story-in-the-Caricature Blog Carnival, click here.

However, if you are looking for nothing in particular and if for some unfathomable reason you care about the beautiful unique relationship I share with Pratap Mullick, read on.

There’s a good chance that you know neither about Pratap Mullick nor about me, but if you are an artist who grew up in the far-flung regions of India, where if you wanted to buy a magazine, you’d have to travel about 40 miles – you probably have seen Pratap Mullick’s art.


I am NOT talking about Nagraj Comics. He did illustrate the first 50 of those…but I haven’t seen those illustrations. (Pratap Mullick illustrated for Nagraj Comics before 1995 – and Nagraj comics aren’t really what we’d call the “classics” so I can’t find the old issues anywhere. Honestly I don’t care about what I see of Nagraj Comics now! Searches of “Pratap Mullick” often throw up image results that show the work of other artists – and that work isn’t at the same scale of quality as Pratap Mullick’s…so I take no responsibility for misconceptions born out of indiscriminate searches.)

When I was a child, I was not just a child, I was a girl child; and despite being born in quite an emancipated family, nobody thought to ask me what I’d like to become when I grew up. Until I was ten, school was a mercurial affair – it was there, then it wasn’t, then again…it was there, and then it wasn’t. We often lived in places where ours was the only family for miles around. So I had a lot of time to read what I wanted to instead of reading what I had to.

Once a month, my father would take us to the nearest town, and I’d spend my monthly pocket-money (5 Rupees) on comics. I’d buy some combination of Indrajal comics (1 Rupee) and Amar Chitra Kathas (1.50 Rupees, if I remember right.) Indrajaal comics distributed the Phantom comics and the Mandrake comics in India – they later created their own hero, Bahadur too. In contrast, Amar Chitra Kathas (translates to: Immortal Stories with Pictures,) had stories from Indian Mythology and History. After a few months of buying both, I decided that I preferred Amar Chitra Kathas, so I requested my parents for an increment of one rupee in my pocket-money and began buying four Amar Chitra Kathas instead.

It was then that I realized that some of the Amar Chitra Kathas had drawings that were considerably better than those in others. As I mentioned in one of my previous posts, I was a selectively curious child. For a long time, it didn’t occur to me that real artists made those drawings, and I never thought that I could one day illustrate for books and magazines. I drew because it was nice to draw.

Coming back to the point, I realized that certain drawings looked better – in fact, they looked beautiful. They inspired me to draw better. Without realizing that I was learning from those drawings, I began to learn. I learned about proportions, shades, backgrounds, perspectives…I looked at those drawings and then looked around – and then I’d try to draw what I saw, the way they were drawn in those drawings.

I still didn’t know that there was an artist behind those drawings, so next when I went to the town and shopped for Amar Chitra Kathas, I’d look inside, check out the drawings, and instinctively select the Amar Chitra Kathas with those beautiful drawings. My parents would wonder why I selected some and rejected some – but they never asked and I never told. It was my secret.

When kids grow up, they are often asked what they’d like to be when they grew up – in my time, a girl child was seldom asked this question – and so I never could connect art with illustration. If I were asked the question, I might’ve said something like – I would like to draw…and then one thing could’ve led to another, and I might’ve ended up becoming a “real” artist. But for this reason or some other, there was a mental gap somewhere – some synapses didn’t connect – somehow I never realized that art could be a profession as well.

Then during the Nineties there was a time when it was difficult to find Amar Chitra Kathas on the bookstalls, and once in while I’d think about those beautifully illustrated comics, and feel sad. But they probably experienced some sort of revival and I began seeing Amar Chitra Kathas again. One day, when I was in a bookstore, I picked one of them up. I picked it up gingerly – ready to be disappointed – ready to accept that as a child what I found beautiful was indeed crass and mediocre. But the comic that I had instinctively picked up had the same beautiful drawings that I had fallen in love with as a child. I had picked up “Urvashi.

But I was a different Shafali now. I knew that a real artist did those illustrations, and so with my heart beating hard against my ribs, I checked out the cover for the credits – expecting to find none. (Our publishers often fear that they’d lose their illustrators and so they don’t provide credit to the artists.) But there it was. It said: “Illustrated by: Pratap Mullick”! For the first time, I knew the name of the man who had held my hand and steadied it as I learned to draw – for the first time in my life, my thoughts went beyond those drawings and I visualized what his life must’ve been – for now I also know a lot about the struggle that life is for an Indian artist.

It was a moment that was both happy and sad. The fact that Pratap Mullick could survive in this world and that he made drawings that’d survive him – made me happy. The fact that a man of his caliber, wasn’t celebrated – wasn’t known – and wasn’t given the status he deserved, made me sad. I should’ve heard his name as one of the great artists of India – he changed lives, he helped people learn art, and he still remains the best book illustrator that India has ever seen – and believe me when I say that because I spend hours looking at illustrations…and just one illustration is what it takes to tell you what an artist is worth!

As someone who’s keen on art, I wonder why an Amar Chitra Katha that he illustrated should sell at the same price at which all other Amar Chitra Kathas would sell? The comics he illustrated are collectibles – the comics that others did…well they just earned their living! If you don’t know what I am talking about buy “Vasantasena” and “Vasavadatta” – and compare them (Don’t go by the cover illustrations…they are always done well.) ! I just hope that he was at least paid better.

The question is – Why do we normalize? Why do we pull real talent down to the level of mediocrity?

We all know the answer…don’t we? This ability of the human race, is one of the things that define our humanity. We’ve decided to trash the evolutionary theory of “Survival of the Fittest” and that’s precisely why we are headed where we are…



7 comments on “My Childhood Love – A Naked Truth – A Caricature of Life!

  1. i totally agree with you shefali….see i believe that it is tough for an indian artist to even get li’l bit recognition… i like cartooning and i believe it is all because of (ram waeerkar and souren roy of amar chitra katha fame ) illustrations that invoked in me the real caricature talent i had….my story is similar to yours..i liked these caricatures of Souren roy..the intricate details of face,and body…simply superb and i used to draw at home whenever free……not to forget ram waeerkar for his ‘suppandi’ cartoons…well all that is history now… now i am doing my engineering from BITS PILANI ,,,and i hope that i will pursue my cartooning career sometimes later in life…and trust me that i was very good in art but i had to choose engineering because its a safe career choice….but i am sure that i will do some great caricatures for DC comics one day…cheers….


    • Hi Ashish,
      I appreciate your stopping by commenting. I think that you took the right decision…even though the climate for artists has become a lot better now than it was in my time. Nevertheless, I wish you the best both for your chosen profession and for your artistic endeavors.


  2. Thank you for commenting, Rahul.
    It was nice to read your thoughts about Pratap Mullik’s art. I didn’t have access to a lot of ACKs (one could find them only in one shop, in Mokokchung, which was about 60 km from where we used to live,) but I cherished them nevertheless – until my father gave them to someone when I was away at boarding school…


  3. I grew up in the seventies on ACKs from Title Number 11 Krishna and I think I went on collecting till Title 220 or so(Still have them all in first editions).I shall never forget ACKs.But what I will always remember more are the illustrations of Pratap Mullick in the ACKs…He was superb.Not one of the other ACK illustrators even came close to him.His illustration of Lord Krishna is the very best I have come across.His illustration of the Pandavas and Abhimanyu are classics….Rahul Lall


  4. The question is – Why do we normalize? Why do we pull real talent down to the level of mediocrity?

    Forgive my cognitively challenged perception Shafali, but what were the steps from the very interesting article – to that question? I can’t make the leap, can’t see the connection. Sorry, but I have decided that I should not just accept that my medication has turned me into a clumsy idiot where meanings are concerned (unless they are soooo obvious) and that I will ask rather than withdraw. I seem unable to follow the jumps that some make and have to see the steps. Maybe if I can identify where I get lost, I may make provision. Help!


    • I guess the connection was clear in my mind, but it didn’t carry through in the article, or one needs to see the artwork in Vasavdatta and Vasantsena to make the comparison and understand the intent:)

      Let me try…
      When an artist of the caliber of Pratap Mullick, who creates drawings that make you think of the term “genius” and artists who create trash (you should see the internal drawings of the Amar Chitra Katha – Vasantsena) are put on the same pedestal, paid the same fee, and remain at the same level of anonymity (more or less), it happens because the society “normalizes” (refer to the Normal Distribution curve.) The society sends a message that greatness or talent is undesirable and that the society doesn’t differentiate between genius and mediocrity. I believe that normalization isn’t good from the evolutionary angle (I am a Darwinian and I strongly believe in evolution – and of course, evolutionary extinction too,) it makes the mob rule, it makes the intelligent and the talented exist in secret organizations, and it slows down growth.

      A society needs to nurture exceptional talent, and our society (Indian society specifically) doesn’t do that. Politically we are democratic, socially we are communists of the worst kind. We don’t want prodigies and when they happen, parents feel completely lost and decide to school them at home; if they do end up in school they are “pulled down in their special ability, to the level of mediocrity”. A child who is an exceptional artist when he/she is 5, is considered “odd” and the entire society tries to divert the child’s talents in other directions, so that by the time the child has grown up – he/she has mediocre talent in art. In fact, the onus of staying true to art remains with that child! And this isn’t true just for art – it’s true for music, for math, for science, or for any other kind of intelligence.

      Hope this helps clarify:)

      Warm Regards,


  5. wow, thanks for introducing me to the Indian illustrators/comics! Put all on the wish-list (won’t order anything before September, the Italian mailing system is soooo bad in the summer…)! 😉
    The gal who grew up an franco-belgian comics and american illustrators (loved Boris Vallejo and Rowena Morrill before discovering Larry Elmore and other “younger” comic book artists such as Colleen Doran and Terry Moore…)! 😀
    Happy drawing


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