It was the summer of 1990 or perhaps, 1991, when I delved into my older cousin's bookshelf and found my first colourful book of pictures. He would hold up the picture book as he read it, with the following page folded to my side. And I recall standing in front of him, reading the stories backwards, trying to keep pace with him as I attempted to make sense of the words in the little white balloons in each picture frame.
The years wore on, but the picture books stayed a part of my life...in stages, though. From reading along with my cousin, I started devouring (yes, that is the word) them in solitude on lazy afternoons perched on the cozy living room sofa. I would wait eagerly for my fortnightly installment; pouncing on my copy when I returned from school to find a small package addressed to "Baby Radhika"...in the process building a collection to rival my cousin's. And then, of course, the trips to Higginbothams to pick up the Tinkle Digests and innumerable Amar Chitra Katha books… all those afternoons huddled over a Birbal the Witty, Jataka Tales: Monkey Stories, Krishna, Valmiki or The Churning of the Ocean.
I chanced upon Uncle Pai's obituary in the papers today, and these memories came rushing back. I thought of the (atleast) two generations of Indian children who owe so much to this man.. For such a delightful and lasting initiation into Indian lore, and thereby the attendant values. For encapsulating tales of wisdom, wit and valour in such an easy-to-imbibe package. Quietly, this man had created a wealth of knowledge to engage and inspire young minds… even as he passes on, his appropriately titled Amar Chitra Kathas (Immortal Picture Stories) will live with us. Will further generations of little Indians continue to love these stories as much as I did? I really, really hope they do.
Thank you, Uncle Pai
Thank you, Uncle Pai
