The Blue Lotus

Too bad Hergé only managed to make a stopover in New Delhi on his way to Australia. But Calcutta was not far from his mind. The opening page of The Blue Lotus — in which the ace reporter infiltrates a gang of opium dealers — plays out in India as a guest of the Maharaja of Gaipajama. And the very first panel depicts an ornate structure resembling an oasis of tranquility at the heart of north Calcutta’s Gouri Bari neighbourhood.

There was a time when Marwari and Gujarati traders made the once business-happy city their home. Many of the migrants were Jains, which led to the building of places of worship. The most architecturally inspiring one is known as the Pareshnath Temple.

Vol 714 Pour Sydney is the French volume of Flight 714 to Sydney.

It’s a set of temples across three complexes. The main complex with the Sitalnath shrine — dating back to 1867, founded by Rai Budree Das Bahadur, Mukim to H.E. (His Excellency) — is of interest to architects, jewelry designers, and artists because of its grandiose nature.

Of course, Calcutta finds a mention in Tintin in Tibet, sadly in an unfortunate twist to the plot. After receiving a letter, an excited Tintin announces that Chang is on his way to meet him: “I fly to Calcutta, then on to Nepal. My venerable adoptive father wishes me to visit Kathmandu….” On the same day, a newspaper report announces the “Nepal Air disaster.” Chang was a character close to Hergé’s heart, modeled after his friend Tchang. No wonder he drew him with respect and love.

Though Captain Haddock and Tintin never visited Calcutta, they spent a few hours in bustling New Delhi on the way to Kathmandu.

Bengali became the first Indian language into which the French-language series was translated, appearing in Anandamela from the Ananda Bazar Patrika Group.

In hindsight, mishti doi could have slowed down Tintin. Through him, Hergé made armchair travellers out of millions of children, instilling a fascination with exploring new countries. He thrived on the wanderlust Bengalis are known for.

Ten thousand thundering typhoons, Tintin always reminds us that childhood is a gift.

Vol 714 Pour Sydney

Blistering barnacles! They could have visited Chandernagor.

Childhood was spent trying to be Tintin, listening through silences and noises, awaiting a clue. Almost every Bengali is a brother or sister of the iconic Herge creation and it’s almost a pastime to dig for clues that associate the series with India.

A few months ago, I received a copy of Vol 714 Pour Sydney, the French volume of Flight 714 to Sydney. Joy knew no bounds when I read a conversation between Captain Haddock and Professor Calculus. To the sailor’s “Mai C’EST Djakarta mille milliards de mille millions d mille sabords”, the professor replies: “Chandernagor?”

On the first page of The Blue Lotus is an ornate structure resembling Pareshnath Mandir.

It was enough to take the few Tintin figurines I bought years ago on a trip to Chandernagor. The idea made perfect sense because it would give me an opportunity to take Tintin and friends to some of the buildings they may have visited had Herge made Bengal a part of his plans. If not anything, we would have appreciated a few moments of bliss gobbling up a few Jalbhara Talsansh at Surjya Kumar Modak.

And what a brilliant day it was, visiting places like Doyal Monjil, which is a stone’s throw from the Sacred Heart Church. The staircase that leads up to the house reminds one of a deck of cards that’s about to be dealt. The house has seen better times but if luck is a lady, it might see better days.

Captain Haddock could have nursed his drinks at The Sleepy Hollow, which was named after the Washington Irving novel The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Perhaps he could have exchanged notes with Bhabani Charan Chatterjee, whose name is associated with this address.

Or they could have found a way to sneak into Patal Bari, the lowest floor of which gets submerged during high tide. It’s the place where Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar and Rabindranath Tagore had stayed.

Pareshnath Temple off Gouri Bari Lane.

Of course, none of this happened but I am glad that the Bengali children’s magazine Anandamela managed to bring Tintin to India in a local language many decades ago.

Like I said, there is a bit of Tintin in all of us. Bashi-bazouk! Captain Haddock is mon ami.