Friday, August 13, 2021

Limericks

I love limericks. They can be rude, silly and clever at the same time. 

I’m trying to get my 9 year old to write them. Here are some I wrote for her:

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About her

She’s smart, curious and kind

Always a smile. A beautiful mind.

Loves her art. Loves her books.

Loves blackberries and trying to cook.

Stay forever young, away from this grind.

***

About her favourite stuffed animal 

My panda’s name is Po 🐼 

But nowhere does he go

He love bamboo leaves

But his laziness is my pet peeve

But I do love him so

***

She started learning about Orangutans 

Orangutans 🦧 are gentle

Their poachers make me mental

Beautiful relatives of humans

Unworthy of you, we have proven

I wish I could be more influential

***

Arguing with her about pigeons 

Pigeons, pigeons all the time 🐦 

What’s going on in this head of mine?

Why do I ignore other birds in the garden?

Dearie me, I do beg your pardon!

Tits, robins and parrots; thy I decline.

***

About her favourite character

The boy who lived said Dumbeldore 🧙‍♂️ 

Born to defeat evil Lord Voldemort

Impulsive, loyal and kind

He knew fear was all in the mind

A Hogwarts 🏰 legend forever more.

***

My son’s fairy tales 

Big bad wolf, three little pigs 🐷 

These are the story baby digs

Hansel & Gretel, Red Riding Hood

Gingerbread man, sure all good 👍 

My playlist on YouTube is so big!

***

Speaking of limericks, I was speaking to Ma yesterday and she told me the most fascinating story. My maternal grandmother’s mother (Boju’s mother) apparently was adept at writing limericks in Bangla. She got married at the age of 14. At the time, that was relatively old and hence she was a bit more educated than other girls of the time. The story goes that when she and her husband has gone to see PC Sorcar (senior) i.e. Protul Chandra Sorcar’s magic show in Calcutta. PC Sorcar had developed a new magic trick where he would ask to be blindfolded, and then ask a member of the audience volunteer to come up on the stage and write something on a blackboard which he would proceed to read out whilst still blindfolded. In this instance, my great grandmother volunteered and wrote a limerick impromptu rhyming ‘protul’ with ‘oprotul’ (unique). The magician was so moved by these five lines of rhyme that he apparently fell at her feet and went on to extol that this is what a Bangali nari should be like. My great grandfather who was typically conservative as Bengali bhadralok of the time were, took great exception to PC Sorcar touching his wife. I’m guessing this must be in the late 1940’s or 1950’s. Sadly her notebooks filled with limericks are lost with time. She has passed on the limerick bug to one of her sons - the late Brigadier Shymal Sen. Again I don’t have any from my great uncle.





Monday, August 9, 2021

Beautiful Bengal

My Boju used to say “Ja nei Bharatbarshe, ta nei bhubharatey” which roughly translates into “If you cannot find it in India, you probably won’t find it anywhere else in the world.” 

I daresay, if you don’t find it in West Bengal, you probably won’t find it anywhere in India (with the exception of a desert). My home state of Bengal is perhaps the only Indian state that has the mighty Himalayan mountains in the North and the bountiful Bay of Bengal in the South, and sandwiched between the mountains and the sea is the fertile Gangetic plains in fed by the Hooghly that produces rice and mangoes, the mangroves of Sunderbans - the home of the Royal Bengal tiger, the evergreen forests of the Terrai and Dooars at the Himalayan foothills - the home of the world famous Darjeeling tea, and distinct red soil of Birbhum.

I must say, if geography was actually taught with such lovely infographics, pupils would perhaps remember the content better.

The amazing districts of Bengal (North to South) are:























Source: Facebook (The Babumoshai)




Sunday, August 1, 2021

Sherlock Holmes’s Calcutta connection


Unarguably Sherlock Holmes is literary history’s most popular detective. It is quite unsurprising then that he had a major influence on the Bengali goyenda golpo genre. Many writers, including Satyajit Ray, were fans. In the book ‘London-e Feluda’, Ray acknowledged this when he has Feluda visit Baker Street and say,“Guru, tumi accho boley ami acchi (Guru, I’m there because of you)”. 

Hemendra Kumar Roy’s Jayanta-Manik stories were heavily inspired by the exploits of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, so much so that one of their stories ‘Netajir Choy Murti’ was the desi-fied version of the ‘ The Six Napoleons’. 


But not all Bengali goyendas are direct copies of Sherlock - for instance, while Saradindu Bandyopadhyay’s Byomkesh is certainly inspired by Conan Doyle’s classic duo (like Sherlock Holmes’s escapades were recorded by Dr. John Watson, Byomkesh’s experiences were recorded by his friend Ajit, a writer), he and his stories are distinctive.

Even today, Sherlock Holmes continues to be hugely popular in India, and particularly in Bengal - the Bengali translation of Sherlock Holmes are best sellers in their own right. In fact, a couple of years back a book called “Holmesnama” written Kaushik Mazumdar was launched became very popular as well. It is essentially a complete companion for Sherlock Holmes written in Bengali.



Holmes is not really my ‘homie’

I was introduced to Sherlock Holmes through Moby Books abridged illustrated classics. Moby Books were my introduction to the classics and were the usual reward for acing the ‘unit tests’ (i.e. scoring 20/20) that were held on Fridays.During my high school days, we also studied ‘The Hound of the Baskerville’ as prose text book. I must confess that these are the only 4 stories I have actually read. 


I remember my late Mama had the complete collection, and he and Mami used to be huge fans of the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes series, but I never got around to reading the books. However I have recently watched most of the Jeremy Brett adaptations on iTV. It’s a pity Brett couldn’t complete all the stories as he’s very good in the first 6 seasons. Like Soumitra Chatterjee was the personification of Feluda, it is without doubt the the actor who brought Holmes to life on screen was Jeremy Brett. But I do have a gripe about the Victorian era Sherlock Holmes series in general - more about that at the backend of this this post.

I have also been a fan of the clever, slick reboot in BBC ‘Sherlock’ starring Benedict Cumberbatch but I couldn’t get through ‘Elementary’ though the premise was interesting (Sherlock Holmes in contemporary New York ably accompanied by Jane Watson players by Lucy Liu) it was just boring. 

In terms of audio stories, I find the Radio Mirchi Sunday Suspense Bengali versions outstanding. It is counter intuitive that a Bengali translation of such a classic English literary character can be gripping, but Radio Mirchi really does up the ante on the thrill quotient with its audio stories. And speaking of audio stories, I really enjoyed the Benedict Cumberbatch voiced “Sherlock Holmes: The Rediscovered Railway Mysteries and Other Stories” which were written by John Taylor.

In summary, for me Sherlock Holmes will always be my beloved Feluda’s guru. A relationship twice removed.


Sherlock’s Indian connections

It gives me an inexplicable pleasure to spot the Indian elements in the stories by famous foreign authors… perhaps it is a need for a validation of my ‘Indianess’, I’m not sure. More specifically, I like to find a Calcutta connection, if any, in Tintin, Asterix, Sherlock Holmes, James Bond, etc. (Click on this link that gives a very good overview of the Indian connections.)


While Sherlock never visited Calcutta in any of the Arthur Conan Doyle adventures, there are several Indian elements in the series. These include:

  1. The doped mutton curry in ‘The Silver Blaze
  2. In ‘The Adventure of the Three Students’ one suspect is “a quiet, inscrutable fellow; as most of those Indians are”
  3. The novel ‘The Sign of the Four’ has a complex plot involving service in East India Company, the 1857 Uprising, a stolen treasure, and a secret pact among four convicts and two corrupt prison guards at a prison in Andaman islands. 
  4. In ‘The Crooked Man’ in the Indian Uprising (viewed as the Sepoy Mutiny by the British) of 1857 plays a pivotal role and the suspect is a British soldier who is captured by rebels and kept as a slave in Darjeeling. After escaping from their clutches he learns conjuring tricks from Punjabis before returning to Britain as a queer sideshow attraction. 
  5. The only Calcutta connection in the Arthur Conan Doyle series is in ‘The Adventure of the Speckled Band’ — Doyle’s own favourite plot — the murder weapon turns out to be an extremely deadly Bengali swamp-adder trained to kill. Although quite unscientific (Bengal never exported swamp-adders to be used by Western murderers simply because there are no swamp-adders in India), the corrupting influences of colonialism loomed large: the culprit, if you recall, turns out to be a Calcutta-returned brutish British self-taught snake charmer. Illustration below from my beloved Moby Books version


It is a well-known fact that Doctor Watson, Holmes’ trusted companion and chronicler, had partaken in the Afghan campaigns. But the one remarkable journey that Holmes himself undertook in his fictional life, and which is the most fascinatingly alluring aspect of his myth, is his purported trip to India. I hear your doubts — and yes, there’s no story by Doyle that tells us of his adventures hereabouts. But clues in the compiled Sherlockiana hint at an Indian sojourn. Holmes drowned in the Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland as a result of a mortal battle with the Napoleon of crime, Professor Moriarty; this was a ruse Doyle used at a time when he felt that writing detective stories was distracting him from more important work (he was into fairies and spiritualism).


Due to the public outcry at Holmes’ death, Doyle resurrected him a few years later and upon returning to London, the detective shrugs off his absence by casually mentioning that he had disguised himself as a Norwegian who hung out with the Dalai Lama! Says Holmes, “I travelled for two years in Tibet, therefore, and amused myself by visiting Lhassa and spending some days with the head Llama.” He simply faked his own death in order to hoodwink his enemies and went on a spiritual world tour that, apparently, also took him to Mecca — which was probably something of a dream itinerary for the spiritualistic Doyle himself.


Indian writers of Holmes pastiches bring Sherlock home

Several Indian writers have taken up the challenge to rewrite Holmes’ adventures from an Indian point of view. These include:

  1. Partha Basu’s ‘The Curious Case of 221B: The Secret Notebooks of John H Watson, MD’, looks at Holmes from a subaltern perspective (here Watson provides us with the real facts behind the published cases)
  2. Vithal Rajan’s Holmes of the Raj’ spoofs the Orientalist fiction genre. In this pastiche, Holmes is dispatched on a confidential mission to India, where he makes the acquaintance of the virtual who’s who of colonial days, including Motilal Nehru, Tagore, Aurobindo, Kipling, Ronald Ross and Madame Blavatsky
  3. The prominent Tibetan freedom fighter Jamyang Norbu’s The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes’, won the Crossword fiction award in 2000. It was the above mentioned Tibetan reference by the detective that inspired Norbu, who grew up in exile in India, to write his novel that contains some very evocative episodes set in Bombay about a hundred years ago. To top it all, Holmes teams up in this novel with a fictional spy from Rudyard Kipling’s novel Kim! Eventually, the clues of the case lead him to travel up to Tibet, filling in that famous gap that Doyle left open in the larger narrative.

It is through the writing of one such Indian author when Holmes finally visits Calcutta - in Vasudev Murthy’s ‘Sherlock Holmes in Japan: The Missing Years’. Murthy’s novel, like many others, takes advantage of the great hiatus between ‘The Final Problem’ and ‘The Adventure of the Empty House’. The novel has Holmes and Watson arriving in Japan by a circuitous route from Calcutta through Bangkok, Angkor Wat, Hanoi, Hong Kong and Shanghai. 


In the book written by Murthy under the pseudonym ‘Akira Yamashita’,  Holmes with help from Watson exposes Professor Moriarty’s dastardly plan of world domination. Incidentally by happy coincidence, Sebastian Moran, Moriarty’s second in command is formerly of the First Bangalore Pioneers. In Calcutta, Holmes and Watson have dinner at Debnath Chatterjee’s house. “He is modelled on Rabindranath Tagore.”, says Murthy.  Dr. Jagdish Chandra Bose also makes a cameo appearance as well. As always Watson is rather stodgy but his love of Bengali sweets makes him endearingly human.


Murthy wrote another book in the series which was set in Timbaktu. Here story tracks the travels of historic characters like Ibn Battuta and Marco Polo traversing China, India and parts of Arabia and Africa, with Sherlock Holmes thrown into the mix.

Doyle’s dodgy views of India dampened my enthusiasm for reading Holmes

I cannot end this post without discussing the difficult topic of Doyle's portrayal of India. This is one of the reasons I could not get myself to read the original works. I do not know if I am being too sensitive but personally I cannot ignore the racist undertones in Holmes. While sympathists may say it was reflective of the time and readers should see it in the context of society at the time, his portrayal of India and Indians undeniably reflects a sense of racial superiority that marked the colonialists’ relationship with their subjects. There are several clear examples that betray these beliefs and views. For instance, in his second Holmes adventure, ‘The Sign of Four’, Jonathan Small, despite being a criminal and subaltern in Britain, dehumanises his Andamanese accomplice Tonga; Small calls Tonga “hell-hound”, “little devil”, “bloodthirsty imp” and parades him at freak shows as “the black cannibal.” Both are underclass, but the sub-text is that the white-skinned Small has the right to dominate the dark-skinned Tonga. This is classic 19th -century race theory translated into fiction. Dr Watson, too, considered Tonga a mass of black -- “like a Newfoundland dog”. Read this excellent academic paper that delves more into this topic.


Vilification of Indians continues with many of his famous criminals having connections to India. Jonathan Small (‘The Sign of the Four’) lost a leg to a crocodile while swimming the Ganga; he was liberal with the whip and insults at an indigo plantation. Dr Grimesby Roylott (‘The Adventure of the Speckled Band’), who smoked Indian cigars and kept the company of gypsies was a doctor with a large practice in Calcutta; he killed his step-daughter with an adder, which the storyline suggests he was able to do because he had access to “exotic animals”. Sebastian Moran (The Adventure of the Empty House), whom Holmes called the ‘second most dangerous man in London’, was a big game hunter and served in the Second Anglo-Afghan war. In short: like many of his Victorian contemporaries, Doyle seemed to believe that Englishmen who had spent time in the Orient had picked up its savage ways and returned home to civilised England as hardened criminals.


In her essay Crime and the Gothic, professor Catherine Spooner peels off other layers regarding Doyle’s views of India. Referring to ‘The Adventure of the Speckled Band’, she says, “Dr Roylott intends to kill Helen by releasing a deadly poisonous swamp adder (the snake appears to be the Indian Cobra but Doyle changed the name), brought back from India, into her room. Following Holmes’ intervention, the snake returns into Roylott’s room and strikes him instead….The snake becomes an instrument of colonial retribution, revisiting on its master not only the violence he intended against his family, but also that perpetrated on the colonial subject, both literal (Roylott beat his Indian butler to death in Calcutta, but escaped being sentenced) and symbolic (the practice of colonialism itself).” That is, colonialism extracts its price one way or the other. But which side Doyle was on is still a question.


Did Doyle redeem himself in real life, though?

Possibly. Arthur Conan Doyle was drawn to investigate just one real-life crime during his lifetime and it involved a British Indian man wrongly accused of a series of mysterious crimes in an English village in the early 20th century. The story of that Indian-origin barrister, George Edalji, has now been dug up in detail and brought to life in a new book by London-based historian-author Shrabani Basu, who chanced upon the mystery and pursued it through archival records and letters over the years. The result is ‘The Mystery of the Parsee Lawyer: Arthur Conan Doyle, George Edalji and the case of the foreigner in the English village’. 


The story revolves around several threatening letters and the distressing killing and mutilation of animals. It was one of the most famous cases of miscarriage of justice in Edwardian England which was forgotten over time. Conan Doyle, whom George Edalji had turned to for help after being jailed in 1903 for crimes he did not commit, encountered a mystery worthy of his fictional detective. The Sherlock Holmes author meticulously pieced clues together to conclude that George had been the victim of racism for being a “Hindoo” – as all Indians were referred to at the time.



“I think Indian readers will find it interesting that in 1907 Arthur Conan Doyle responded to a letter by a young Indian lawyer appealing to him for help to clear his name, and he took up the cause. Even Jawaharlal Nehru, who was an 18-year-old student at the time in Harrow School in London, got fascinated with the case and remarked that George had no doubt been targeted because he was Indian. What fascinated me was the fact that the only true crime that Arthur Conan Doyle investigated personally was to do with an Indian," said Basu (pictured above).


As the world continues to be intrigued by the ageless Sherlock Holmes, and Bengalis love for goyenda golpo remains evergreen, I am hoping some talented author will set a full Holmes story in Calcutta. Till then enjoy this pastiche by Snehajit Lahiri I found on Facebook. In this story ‘London-e Londobhondo’, Felu Mittir works with his guru on solving a crime in London. Click on the photo below to read it.



***


Sources:

  1. https://www.thehindu.com/books/sherlock-holmes-afterlife-in-india-the-adventure-of-the-drowned-detective/article27330794.ece/amp/
  2. https://www.hindustantimes.com/books/a-discovery-of-india-via-conan-doyle/story-FGSyS54gGN1sfGm6o9l8oI.html
  3. https://www.thehindu.com/features/metroplus/the-other-me/article5145872.ece
  4. https://www.freepressjournal.in/cmcm/sherlock-holmes-was-a-man-of-the-world-interested-in-absolutely-everything-vasudev-murthy
  5. https://www.hindustantimes.com/books/new-book-uncovers-indian-mystery-probed-by-sherlock-holmes-author-101614487806557.html

Friday, July 30, 2021

Tintin in India

Author Vikram Seth, in his verse novel, 'The Golden Gate' pays one of the most eloquent tributes to Tintin and his friends, through a witty sonnet. It's not difficult to see why Seth, like countless other Indians including yours truly, has been so captivated by the world's most famous boy reporter with a trademark quiff who set foot in India only twice* in his comic book adventures.

Tintin's first trip to India in 1934 is quite a hackneyed depiction reflective of the colonial time warp of Europe at the time. In the otherwise riveting Cigars of the Pharaoh, the intrepid reporter crashes his small plane in the jungles of India. He meets a mad fakir, and escapes from a mental asylum. There is a journey on a train bound for "Sethru-Jamjah". Irate villagers catch Snowy chasing a cow and decide to "slay" him at the "altar of Siva". Cliches galore! There are scenes of a railway station with a neat Indian Railway poster - the only sliver of reality.

All this happens in the ridiculously named kingdom of the Maharaja of Gaipajama, which translates literally into the "king of a cow's pyjama"! The India in Cigars of the Pharoah is utterly unreal and stuffed with awful caricatures. An argument with a cow, in fact, lands Snowy, Tintin's faithful companion, on the altar —ready to be sacrificed by angry Hindus, before he is saved by the bumbling detectives Thomson and Thompson, who prove useful in this case. The adventure ends happily, with Tintin — nattily dressed in a turban and shervani and accompanied by Snowy — joining his host, the Maharaja of Gaipajama, in a victory procession.

The second time was in 1958. In Tintin in Tibet, one of Herge's most elegantly drawn albums, the intrepid Belgian scribe arrives at Delhi airport en route to Kathmandu and a new adventure. Herge fares exceedingly well, taking Tintin and his friends to the Qutub Minar and the Red Fort - two Delhi landmarks - that are etched out in fine detail and rich colours as you can see below. They would’ve gone to Jama Masjid too, but they were late for their Air India flight to Kathmandu! Michael Farr, a leading British 'Tintinologist', says Herge actually did a "lot of research" for Tintin's Indian journey: he secured catalogues of all the aircraft Air India used and uniforms the cabin crew wore at that time.

Scenes from Tintin in Tibet

To many, Herge's depiction of India may seem too riddled with clichés and stereotypes, reflective of a European colonial mindset fuelled prejudices. But no one can deny the realism and painstaking detail which he brought into his narrative. For instance, when, in Tintin in Tibet, Captain Haddock bumps into a porter who yells at him in Hindi, Herge made sure that each word was correctly spelled out in the Devanagri script and that it was not just a meaningless hieroglyphics. It was this eye for detail that captivated noted film director Satyajit Ray — a self-confessed Tintin addict — who often referred to the stories in his films and books, especially in his famous Feluda detective series.

Ray has referred to Tintin in his many Feluda stories and two Feluda films. If you enlarge the photo, you can read his description of Tintin from Kailashe Kelenkari. Read more about Tintin and Feluda here


By the 1970s Hergé became interested in eastern philosophy and Tintin took to yoga in Tintin and the Picaros (1976).


Indians still love Tintin like no other comic book. It had been first translated into Bangla in 1976, and ever since Tintin and his dog "Kuttush" have enjoyed cult status in Bengal ever since. The comic was translated into Bengali by Nirendranath Chakraborty. Nirendranath Chakraborty is an important literary figure. He is one of those who created a unique poetic language. It is surprising that the Tintin series — which may have been ignored as ‘children’s literature’ — was appealing enough for him to put in so much introspection into the translation. So, it is not entirely unexpected that Chakraborty should use subtle nuances of language to give the characters of Tintin’s world a Bengali flavour while avoiding any blatant provincial element in their behaviour. The language of the translation retains the inherent mood of the original, even when the expressions are changed to fit an audience not acquainted with certain cultural references. What is equally remarkable is the congruity that Chakraborty’s language managed to maintain with Hergé’s drawings. It seems as though the faces drawn by Hergé were meant to speak in Bengali.

Perhaps there is something uniquely Bengali in Tintin. And that ‘something’ lies in Captain Haddock’s 'Jotto sob gneri-gugli-r jhnak' (billions of blue blistering barnacles), Professor Calculus’s endearing, deafness-induced confusion that is strangely familiar, and of course, Kuttush, the Bengali Snowy. Chakraborty had not only translated Tintin into Bengali, but had also incorporated in the comic a ‘Bengali-ness’ that draws us closer to it.

In fact, the adventures of Tintin have been so popular in the Bengal for years, it had led Herge, the creator of Tintin, to remark, "I receive a lot of mail from India. Here, in my office, are two letters from Calcutta. Now, what can there be in common between a boy in Calcutta and myself ?"

Nearly 5 decades later, Tintin finally spoke a second Indian language - the comic books were translated in Hindi in 2010. Tintin animation series had come out in Hindi much earlier and had been released on VCD/DVD in 2005. In the Hindi version, while Tintin remains the same, Snowy has been desi-fied to “Natkhat” and detectives Thomson and Thompson have been renamed “Santu and Bantu”. Captain Haddock’s ‘billions and billions of blue blistering barnacles’ has become ‘karodo karod kasmasate kaale kacchuve’ (millions and millions of squirming black turtles) while ‘ten thousand thundering typhoons’ reads as ‘dus hazaar tadtadate toofan’. Tintin’s catchphrase ‘Great snakes’ has been changed to ‘baal ki khaal’.

Hindi and Bengali covers of the 2 Tintin albums where he’s been to India

In an age of instant gratification and waning attention spans, Tintin albums - in English, and in Bengali and Hindi translations - continue to sell by the thousands. Is it any surprise then that Steven Spielberg's paean to the intrepid reporter, The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn, released in India six weeks ahead of its the US release? Sony Pictures (India), which is released the film in India said that their research shows that more than 90% of the audience that watches Hollywood films in India are Tintin fans.

It is no wonder that artists across India are spending hours creating fan art of Tintin in various places across India.

Kolkata

Darjeeling

Pondicherry 


French artist Jacques Beaumelle imagined his favourite childhood hero strolling through Pondicherry.

Mumbai

Delhi
This was was drawn to highlight the smog and poor quality of air in the city.

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* Herge had written a play based in India though. It was called 'Tintin aux Indes: Le Mystère du diamant bleu' ('Tintin in India - the Mystery of the Blue Diamond') and released in April 1941.

Tintin aux Indes: Le Mystère du diamant bleu

'The Mystery of the Blue Diamond' was a Belgian theatre piece in three acts written in French by Hergé and Jacques Van Melkebeke. It features Hergé's famous character, Tintin, and covers much of the second half of Cigars of the Pharaoh as Tintin attempts to rescue a stolen blue diamond. The events of the story occur within the chronology of Tintin stories, between The Crab with the Golden Claws and The Shooting Star. Plot synopsis:

Act 1 is set in the palace of Padakhore, India. 

Detectives Thompson and Thomson arrive and meet Badapour, the prime minister of Padakhore. He explains their mission, namely to act as bodyguards of the Maharaja.

"Tonight", he says, "there's a big celebration at the palace, and tomorrow the Maharaja will leave for Syldavia.". And if anything happens to the Maharaja , the two detectives will lose their heads!

The Maharaja and the guests arrive. These include Doctor and Mrs. Nicholson, Syldavian ambassador Count Koulansky and the almost deaf archeologist Chippendale and his wife.

A telegram announces the arrival of Tintin. Count Koulansky gets over-excited. He explains that after the affair with King Ottokar's scepter, Tintin is considered a hero in Syldavia. Any Syldavian who achieves something good is called "sprados urkel spodzaviev karamadsov zlazek rosbifkiroska'fa spetchnouk Tintin", which Koulansky reveals means "a real Tintin".

Tintin finally arrives with a leashed Snowy. In the evening the celebrities begin, including hypnotizing performances by the fakir Caudebathimouva Thoubva and dancing by The Great Hindou Ballet of Padakhore.

As the grand finale, the Maharaja will display his famous Blue Diamond. But disaster strikes - the diamond has disappeared! Tintin concludes that the thief must be one the invited guests.

A search organised by the Thompsons givès nothing. Tintin suggests that the hearings should continue the next day on the trip to Syldavia aboard the"Rampura".

Act 2 takes place aboard the "Rampura".

Tintin interviews all persons present when the diamond disappeared. After ministers Badapour and Dourka, Tintin questions Dr. and Mrs. Nicholson. Mrs. Nicholson finds the whole situation exciting; a mystery in the fabled Orient among tigers, palaces and a Maharaja who is "as beautiful as a God".

Next in line are Koulanski and Mr. Chippendale. Suddenly the distressed Mrs. Chippendale interferes. There is more bad news; the waiter of the Maharaja has disappeared in the sea! Tintin quickly concludes that the waiter has been killed.

Obviously, Tintin says, the thief had an accomplice and the waiter knew too much. Night falls aboard the ship.

A mysterious shadow throws a bomb into the cabin of Tintin! The bomb spreads 'ramaganmahal' a powerful poison, but luckily Tintin wasn't in the cabin when it exploded.

Tintin decides to send a telegram before the ship arrives at Syldavia.

Act 3 takes place in a medieval hall of a Syldavian castle. 

The Thompsons are initially involved in a comic scene with knightly armours, trying to disguise themselves as phantoms.

The invited guests of the Maharaja, still assembled, then arrive. Just in time, Tintin receives the telegram he's been waiting for. He hands it around and everybody - except for Chippendale - takes the telegram in the right hand.

And that proves that Chippendale is guilty! Why? Well, Tintin had sent a telegram to James Edwards in Boston, the butler of the real Mr. Chippendale. And in the telegram, Edwards confirms that the real Chippendale is right-handed while the imposter who showed up in India and stole the blue diamond is left-handed. The Chippendales are arrested and the diamond is found in their luggage. Tintin has solved the mystery of the blue diamond.

Read the excellent comic version by a talented Indonesian artist named Kaka Nami Rai by clicking on the cover below.


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Sources: