You need the soul of Chengiz Khan to survive a June afternoon in Delhi.

The streets are empty save a few hard-core urban warriors.

I am hunting for a book… Life seems to depend on it.


In this graphic novel in which precisely observed sketches of city scenes mix with indie-style caricatures and the occasional and hilarious bit of colored clip-art, a set of hapless intellectuals, one-theory-to-explain-everything fanatics, and vaguely alienated young people wander through Delhi, searching for used books, a cooler persona, true love, enlightenment, sexual potency, and a cup of tea.

There’s very little plot – it’s basically Slacker: Delhi - but I didn’t miss it, I was so charmed by the meticulous detail of the setting, Banerjee’s hipster sense of humor, and all the shout-outs to places and things I recall from my childhood: Phantom (The Ghost Who Walks) comics, used bookshops selling beat-up Perry Mason mysteries, mutton biriyani, Connaught Place, hippies (That morning Angrez Bosch arrived from Rishikesh, armed with advanced knowledge of energy pyramids), the call to prayer broadcast on loudspeakers, outdoor tooth-pullers, mango shakes: every page held a new hit of familiarity.

Corridor: A Graphic Novel

Thanks Sunil!
You need the soul of Chengiz Khan to survive a June afternoon in Delhi.

The streets are empty save a few hard-core urban warriors.

I am hunting for a book… Life seems to depend on it.


In this graphic novel in which precisely observed sketches of city scenes mix with indie-style caricatures and the occasional and hilarious bit of colored clip-art, a set of hapless intellectuals, one-theory-to-explain-everything fanatics, and vaguely alienated young people wander through Delhi, searching for used books, a cooler persona, true love, enlightenment, sexual potency, and a cup of tea.

There’s very little plot – it’s basically Slacker: Delhi - but I didn’t miss it, I was so charmed by the meticulous detail of the setting, Banerjee’s hipster sense of humor, and all the shout-outs to places and things I recall from my childhood: Phantom (The Ghost Who Walks) comics, used bookshops selling beat-up Perry Mason mysteries, mutton biriyani, Connaught Place, hippies (That morning Angrez Bosch arrived from Rishikesh, armed with advanced knowledge of energy pyramids), the call to prayer broadcast on loudspeakers, outdoor tooth-pullers, mango shakes: every page held a new hit of familiarity.

Corridor: A Graphic Novel

Thanks Sunil!
.

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