Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics

ISSN: (Print) (Online) Journal homepage: https://www.tandfonline.com/loi/rcom20

Youth in peril: representation of vulnerability of

young people in doga comic books

Pritesh Chakraborty

To cite this article: Pritesh Chakraborty (2023): Youth in peril: representation of vulnerability
of young people in doga comic books, Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, DOI:
10.1080/21504857.2023.2194664

To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/21504857.2023.2194664

Published online: 24 Mar 2023.

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JOURNAL OF GRAPHIC NOVELS AND COMICS
https://doi.org/10.1080/21504857.2023.2194664

Youth in peril: representation of vulnerability of young

people in doga comic books
Pritesh Chakraborty
Department of English, Acharya Sukumar Sen Mahavidyalaya, West Bengal, India

ABSTRACT ARTICLE HISTORY

The paper analyses the susceptibility of the youths against political- Received 23 April 2022
religious polarisations as presented in the Indian (Hindi) superhero Accepted 17 March 2023
comic books. The focus will be on the character, Doga (Raj comics) as KEYWORDS
he appears in the comics from 1996 to 2019. This analysis will be Juvenile; susceptibility;
carried out within the framework of deconstruction applied via counter discourse;
political discourse analysis. The paper will read these titles - Doga brainwashing; violence
Hindu Hai (Doga is Hindu) series, Doga ko Gado (Bury Doga) etc.
These texts deal with political issues that are coloured with religious
tones portraying situations in which youths usually go astray.
However, the response of the protagonist to these challenges, chan­
nelises these discontents sometimes through his own example and
sometimes through appeal and yet sometimes through use of force,
into positive outcomes. These artistic responses offer both the wish
fulfilment to mitigate the atmosphere of peril and incites alternate
reactions to the quotidian (and generally political) answers. The
paper is divided into the following sections – No country for the
young, Comics and crisis, People and publication, Origins, Politics
and youth delinquency, Poverty and delinquency, Catch ‘em Young,
Colours of riot, Dalit and Doga and conclusion.

No country for the young

Difficult is it in this dusk to be alive, but to be young is very impossible.

This re-working of a line from a poem1 by William Wordsworth spells the crisis of the
youth in India. As in 2021, out of the total, youth population (from the age group 15–34)
in India accounts for around 34.1%2. India in this sense is a ‘young’ country. Having
limited opportunities to lead a productively engaging life, the unspent energy of the
youth often develops a propensity to find an outlet in crime. In India 7.2% of all crimes
were committed by juveniles (India, National Crime Records Bureau 2019). These
youngsters are in their formative years. Once they break bad their future remains
uncertain and hence precarious. They hardly have any further chance to go straight.
The taboo of being convicted or even arrested, challenges them for a long time which
denies them proper vocations of their choice. They find a fraternity in the criminal world
which, eagerly welcomes them to their fold. The high rate of crime among the youth in

CONTACT Pritesh Chakraborty pritesh.c@sukumarsencollege.ac.in Department of English, Acharya Sukumar Sen

Mahavidyalaya, West Bengal, India
© 2023 Informa UK Limited, trading as Taylor & Francis Group
2 P. CHAKRABORTY

India is inevitably the outcome of lack of employment, inaccessibility to proper education

(Junger-Tas et al. 2012, 81), and poverty among other reasons. India has been ranked
133rd out of 161 countries in 2016 (Youth Development Index and Report 2017, 14). It
does not seem that things have changed much over these four or five years (from 2016
when the report was published till 2022) especially when one takes the COVID-19
situation into consideration.

Comics and crisis

This crisis among the youth in India is often captured in the pages of the comic books or
‘Chitrakatha’ (as they are often called in Hindi) created in India. Focusing on the
character named Doga published by Raj Comics (1993 to 2019) this chapter analyses
the representation of vulnerability of the youths against political-religious polarisations
as presented in the Hindi superhero comic books produced in India and how Doga
responds to these challenges. He is depicted as channelising this discontent sometimes
through his own example and sometimes through appeal and yet sometimes through
violence, into positive outcomes. On the one hand, these artistic responses offer the wish
fulfilment to mitigate the atmosphere of peril; on the other hand, they incite alternate
reactions to the conventional answers. The paper offers a reading of titles such as Doga
Hindu Hai (2008) (Doga is Hindu3) series, Doga ko Gado (1998) (Bury Doga), etc. The
titles are selected because of their ability to visually and verbally communicate issues that
pertains to youth precarity. The analysis of the selected comic books will be carried out
within the theoretical framework of deconstruction applied via political discourse ana­
lysis. The mentioned sequential narratives deal with political issues that are coloured with
religious tones. They represent the situations in which youths usually go astray.
A deconstructionist reading will offer multiple destabilising and disturbing significations
from these units which might work as reflections of larger cultural activities within India.
Raj Comics largely caters to a young audience.4 Anupam Sinha mentions in an inter­
view, ‘ . . . comics have come to be associated with kids and once this tradition was
established, we had to follow the trend and understood youngsters as our main target
audience . . . ’5 (Gupta and Sinha 2019). Moreover, Raminder Kaur and Saif Iqbal suggest
‘Vernacular superhero comics have played a remarkable role in forging young readers
[emphasis mine] “interpretive communities”’ (13). Yet comics have been hitherto granted
a lower status among serious Indian art/literature and vernacular comics have been
disregarded almost totally: ‘Studies of vernacular language adventure comic books have
been conspicuous by their near absence’ (Kaur and Iqbal 2019, 3). One cannot but find
a parallel between the precarious condition of the youth represented in the pages of the
comics and the precarious nature of the comics industry in India. Both suffer from apathy
of those who could make a difference. Hence, the young readers (McLaine 2009, 22) could
identify themselves with the characters portrayed. John G. Cawelti attests that comic books
often introduce a character ‘ . . . with whom the audience identifies’ (2013, 78).
Interestingly, according to a survey conducted by Kaur and Iqbal most of the readers of
the comics (with Hindi as their first/mother language),
“Virtually all had grown up reading superhero comics in states (during the 1990s) otherwise
designated by the acronym, BIMARU (Bihar, Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan and Uttar
 JOURNAL OF GRAPHIC NOVELS AND COMICS 3

Pradesh), or ‘sick states’ playing on the Hindi term for sick, ‘bimar’. These people found
their precariousness reflected in the comic book pages and hence found certain nodes of
escape through fantasies of power.” (13)

These states were ‘sick’ in terms of their lack of proper economic infrastructure and
opportunities for the young population to utilise their energy. Thus, the readers who
identified themselves with the character Doga (among other characters) found momentary
relief from their precariousness through the power fantasies embedded in the comics.
However, this momentary relief was not just escapist but it contributed to the enrichment
of the imaginative faculties besides engaging the restless energies of the readers in the
productive activity of reading. Yet utilising the deconstructive angle, reading comics does
not directly lead to any productivity on the part of the readers though buying them
circulates monies in the comics industry. Again, since many of the readers are economically
weak how could they afford to buy the comics and read them?6 Thus, when we apply
a deconstructive analysis here we find that hitherto understood to be simple consumables
bereft of any serious intellectual value could actually yield answers to some serious issues
faced by the Indian youth. Another opportunity to use a deconstructive analysis is offered
by the fact that the comics are written in Hindi, a language of an erstwhile colony. Thus,
when solutions to social problems faced by the readers are offered in this language it
actively deconstructs the dominance of the English language and its accrued Western
cultural values of linguistic and cultural supremacy.

Artists and publication

Raj Comics is one of the largest publishers (with more than 3000 titles) of Indian superhero
comics (established in 1984). It operates from Burari, a suburban locality near New Delhi,
by Manoj Gupta (President), Manish Gupta (CEO) and Sanjay Gupta (Creative Head).
Initially, they published Hindi pulp fiction. The character of Doga, debuting in 1993, was
created by Tarun Kumar Wahi (writer), Sanjay Gupta (editor) and Manu (artist).
Edison George A. aka Manu hails from South India (Kerala) and is working (since
2015) at Graphic India as a graphic artist. He has worked for top publishing houses in
India and outside India with over a hundred issues to his credit. He has also illustrated
George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead, Vol.1 (2004) and worked as a penciller for
2000AD (Drive, he Said, 2007).
Tarun Kumar Wahi is from Delhi. He completed his education from Delhi University
and is presently engaged as the chief writer for Raj Comics. He is also the author of several
books of fiction in Hindi. All these creators, including the Guptas, hail from middle-class
backgrounds having done the bulk of their education through Hindi medium.
Sanjay Gupta acted as the creative head for the publication till its division in 2020 into
two different companies governed by two brothers. He is credited with the creation of
several characters including Nagraj (1986, co-created with Parshuram Sharma), Parmanu
(1991), Tiranga (1995), etc. Inspired by the popularity of the American superhero comics
enjoyed in the USA and action-packed movies of Bollywood, he wanted to create an array
of Indian superheroes who will reflect the angst and aspirations of the Indian youth. In an
interview with Akshay Pathania, Sanjay Gupta attests: ‘After looking at these foreign
superheroes I always wanted to create authentic Indian superheroes’ (Gupta and Sinha
4 P. CHAKRABORTY

2019). Before the Raj Comics superheroes arrived in the Indian markets, there were hardly
any superheroes present in the Hindi language apart from Fauladi Singh and Sabu
(Diamond Comics). Comics were already popularised by Amar Chitra Katha but it were
the Guptas who tapped into the superhero market.
These comics were typically sold through wheeled carts (in agreement with A.H.
Wheeler company) at major railway stations (Kaur and Iqbal 153) till approximately
2017. These railway stations are located in the Northern and Western parts of the country
where people generally speak Hindi. Once it had caught the imagination of the readers,
the comics were sold in speciality stores. These stores also lent out the comics (Reviving
Indian Comics: From Print to Smart Phones and Beyond. 2019), functioning as micro-
libraries. This provided the readers a cheap option to access them. The declining number
of readers in the 2000s compelled them to shut shops. Recently, comics are made
available on online stores, including Amazon.

Origins
First, we will analyse the inaugural issue of Doga, titled ‘Curfew’ (1993). The alter ego of
Doga is Suraj. He is found abandoned on a trash heap by a dreaded dacoit Halkan Singh.
To escape, he uses the baby as a shield against the police. He abuses the child as he grows up
until Suraj chances upon a girl named Sonu whom Halkan Singh abducts and plans to kill.
He helps the girl escape only to lose her in the torrent of a river. Suraj comes to Mumbai
and vows to fight people like Halkan Singh. He is mentored by four gurus who teach him
various martial skills, and grows up to find that the dacoit has become a politician (Halkat
Singh). Several politicians in India do have a criminal record and there were actually a good
number of dacoits from the dreaded Chambal area in Madhya Pradesh who made it to
several ministerial berths. For example, Phoolan Devi turned from a dacoit to a politician (a
Member of Parliament (1996–1998), Mirzapur, Uttar Pradesh and a member of Samajwadi
Party). Suraj then dons the alias of Doga to kill Halkan Singh.
This origin story somewhat parallels the story of India’s birth as a modern nation. Just
like the dacoit who held the infant hostage, India too was a hostage of the British
colonialists, and they unleashed methodical violence on the subcontinent culminating
in the Partition in 1946–47. India was a nation that was undernourished and uncared for
by the developed nations. The nation gradually and painfully reasserted itself going
though excruciating tough times. Suraj does not descend on the path of crime but trains
his body and mind to become a vigilante who not only kills Halkan Singh but also goes to
war against all kinds of criminals in Mumbai. Suraj aka Doga faced exactly all the
situations which turns vulnerable youth into criminals, but his response was constructive.
He used the trauma to fight his way out of the darkness to become a weightlifter and
a gym trainer instead of a delinquent. It is significant that Suraj became a vigilante
superhero but it is of a greater importance that he became a conscientious citizen. This
story of reconstruction is narrated via some visual markers in the issue Ye Hai Doga
(‘This is Doga’, 1993). After arriving in Mumbai Suraj starts to work at a gym. He uses the
gym machinery surreptitiously since he is engaged as a janitor (a sad reminder of the
condition of child labour realities in India). He uses heavy stones as weights to work out
and chisel his body. These images reflect the way India as a nation utilised whatever
resources it found. The nation gradually and painfully added to its economic and cultural
 JOURNAL OF GRAPHIC NOVELS AND COMICS 5

muscles signified by the developing musculature of Suraj. The transformation of the

under nourished orphan to a heavily built fighter under adverse conditions relays
a positive response.
Kaur attests: ‘Not only is his (Doga’s) masculinity defined with respect to his oppo­
nents, but as “an avenger of the street”, it is enhanced with respect to his supposed allies,
where his masculine efficacy supplants the venality and fragility of the state, the official
yet futile dispensers of law’ (Kaur and Iqbal 97). Doga vents his frustration: ‘Inefficient,
worthless police who let criminals breed right under their noses and they cannot even
detect the stink of the social rot’ (Wahi 12).
However, similarities could be found between the Indian superheroes and their
American counterparts. This neocolonial influence is mostly found in the way the
characters are drawn. They are mostly fair. Brown (a colour natural to Indian climate)
is replaced with fair skin tones. If darker shades are used, they are impressed upon the
antagonists. The protagonists usually have Aryan aspects which are generally found in
the Northern, upper caste population. The muscles are often drawn in the American
style. Yet the origin stories are different and so are the settings (Kaur and Iqbal 4). As far
as the use of masks are concerned, Indian theatrical tradition has been using it since
ancient times. One can argue that Indian comics during the 90s were in their ‘adoptive
stage’ (Barry 2002, 129) but as in 2022 Indian comics has engendered its own style,
though the influence of manga cannot be completely ruled out.

Politics and youth delinquency

The next few issues expand upon Doga’s tremendous journey from an orphaned
foundling to a feared vigilante ‘who breaks the laws only to protect it’ (Gupta and
Wahi 1993, 01). Next, he faces a villain named Gainda who recruits Bobby (a karate
expert), Haddal (a wrestler), Thumri (a marksman), Kaku (a knife expert) for
grinding his illegal axes. They are an inverted reflection of Doga. They have
mastered similar skills to that of Doga. This story pans out into two issues—
Adrak Chacha (‘Ginger Uncle,’ 1993) and Gainda (‘Rhinoceros,’ 1993). The quartets
are drawn by Manu in the mould of delinquent stereotypes popularly known in
Mumbai as ‘Taporis’. Their speech compliments their social status. They are petty
delinquents before being given a sinister turn by Gainda also known as construction
company owner Dinanath Dinabandhu (which ironically translates to the saviour
and friend of the poor). He is always draped in traditional Indian clothing, which is
a recognised marker for politicians in India. The hint worked out by a simple
device of colouring and design (augmented by the register of the dialogues) is not
overtly pronounced, but a reader would hardly miss the association. This is one of
the ways in which comics effectively communicates with the reader while working
under the radars of political restrictions/censorships to hardwire the recognition of
some socio-political types and tropes (Kaur and Mazzarella 2009). The four char­
acters could have had become like Suraj, but they chose the path of crime and
eventual (self) destruction. Their choice, however, was conditioned by the presence
of people like Dinabandhu. Interestingly, these four people wanted to join the gym
where Suraj works out but Adrak Chacha, the owner of the gym refused to take
them in since they already had a criminal past. This was a mistake on the part of
6 P. CHAKRABORTY

the character. If he had tried to show them the righteous path, then the group
might not have ended dead. The lack of definitive policy and guidance to the youth
is one of the major causes of the delinquency among them. The government neither
has funds nor time to spend on the youth. India’s youth often find themselves on
their own. Besides the characteristic lack of vision that mars the energy of young
people, the lack of solid and progressive directives from the state leads to the
precariousness among the youth. P. Sivakumar informs, ‘ . . . the youth develop­
ments in India have been hampered because of lack of adequate research on youth.’
(Sivakumar 2012, 26). As the comics suggest, this could be stemmed if a young
person is shown the right path by the more experienced and senior members of
society. Importantly, almost all the villains shown in these comics do not have
a spiritual guide to help them find their path but the heroes like Doga are blessed
with several gurus. This is an important message of youth guidance that the
medium seems to disseminate. The regard for the educator has been on the wane
in India. The medium was once decried by parents (Gupta and Sinha 2019) and
educators (Kaur and Mazzarella 2009) in India due to its (debatable) ability to
isolate the usual student from the traditional teacher/mentor. Deconstructively,
today it seems to help establish the position of the guru in the eyes of the young
readers. In the context of isolation, comics are not read in groups and yet according
to Jeffery A. Archer, ‘For many fans reading of a comic book is far from a passive
activity’ (Archer 02) and comics lovers have very strong and well-connected net­
works of their own, which inculcate in them a sense of community (Stoll 2016, 37).

Poverty and delinquency

However, even when a proper guidance is there in the form of a boxing instructor (Dhaniya
Chacha, brother of Adrak), a character called Rocky in Raavan7 Doga (2013) is compelled
by poverty to stray into trouble. He requires money for the treatment of his nephew and is
supposed to represent India in the Olympics as a boxer, but he needs to treat his nephew
first. So he adopts non-legal ways of earning money by participating in street sports where
he turns himself into a punching bag. According to the condition of the sport, if he screams
the people who beat him wins; otherwise, they forfeit their money. Interestingly, one of the
things that attract young readers to comic books and especially to superhero comics is
violence8 (Sekarasih, Walsh, and Scharrer 2015), though in this text violence is represented
in a negative shade. Hague argues, ‘while (one of) the genre’s [superhero] central theme(s)
is the meting out of violence in the name of justice or terror (depending on the perpe­
trator), this violence is often taken for granted . . . perhaps as a result of its ubiquity’
(Hague, Horton, and Mickwitz 2020, 27). Again, violence is shorn of its glory when we find
that Rocky is compelled to endure violence to save his brother (see Figure 1).
A medium, specifically a genre that has a lot of violent scenes in it, sends a subtle
message that fighting amongst each other for fun could lead to fatal injuries. Doga acts as
the force of reason to control the berserk youngsters from harming each other. He is
often positioned in the panels as a ‘no-man’s land’ between warring groups. Yet, again in
a deconstructive trope he walks the very path that he wants the young people to eschew.
Though Doga tries to stop these illegal fight clubs, the readers are made to understand
that even Doga cannot do much to make an apathetic and callous society more sensitive
 JOURNAL OF GRAPHIC NOVELS AND COMICS 7

Figure 1. Wahi, Tarun Kumar and Mandar Gengele (writers) and Siddharth Powar (artist). April, 2013.
Raavan Doga. 31. New Delhi: Raj comics.

Figure 2. Wahi, Tarun Kumar (writer), Manu (artist). January 1993. Ye hai doga (This is doga). 23. New
Delhi: Raj comics.
8 P. CHAKRABORTY

Figure 3. Wahi, Tarun Kumar (writer), Manu (artist). January 1998. Doga ko gado (Bury doga).
Front cover. Delhi: Raj comics.

to the basic needs of the youth in general and sportsmen in particular. This scenario is
not too far from the real scene. The typical Indian mindset seldom supports aspiring
boxers to fulfill their dreams. For example, Rishu Mittal, a state-level gold medallist boxer
hailing from the state of Haryana, India, had to work as a domestic help to carry on her
training (State Level Boxer Working as a Domestic Help to Earn Livelihood 2015). It
would not be surprising if she or people like her turn to a life of crime. This is not to say
that every poor person turns into a criminal, but the point is that these frustrating
situations create opportunities for the breeding of criminals. However, in the following
image we find Suraj, spending his entire day to train himself. In the morning, he goes to
the gym, then to the martial arts school, then to the boxing club and finally to the
shooting ring. While talking about the many possibilities of self-development mentioned
in the comics, Anupam Sinha (creator of many superhero characters, including Dhruv)
states that, ‘ . . . this can happen . . . (sic)’ (Sinha 2020). In Doga ki Kasratein (‘Doga’s
Exercises,’ 1998), the daily fitness routine of Doga is catalogued which included jogging
and other exercises. He is also shown eating healthy food to maintain the required fitness
levels (See Figure 2).
In the issue titled Dog Training (1998) Doga trains his dogs, which aid him in his
crusade for justice. Doga adopts both the mask and the moniker of his canine friends.
 JOURNAL OF GRAPHIC NOVELS AND COMICS 9

This issue is as an example of how comics could be used to spread awareness about
alternative and lesser known professions (Kaur and Iqbal 152) like dog training. This
profession was not even thought of in the late 90s in India.
Catch ‘em young
Talking about training, it is often found that training that begins at an early stage of
life, yields better results. There are several issues of Doga comics which come with subtle
positive (sometimes cautionary but usually stopping at being didactic) messages to the
readers. For example, the story played out in the issue titled Bichoo (‘Scorpion,’ 1994)
depicts the transformation of a young undisciplined delinquent into an honest and able
police officer after undergoing a strict training regime. Another character is schooled by
Doga in the comic book SuperBoy9 (1995) where A kid wants to follow the footsteps of
the masked heroes but is warned of the dangers of the same. Doga tells him that he has
mentally and physically prepared himself for this life and it requires years of training to
hone oneself for fighting crime (Wahi 1995, 1). The differences in the physical structures
of Doga from the young boy underline this message. Doga to this date has not teamed up
with a sidekick kid unlike many American superheroes like Batman. Perhaps, this is
a message to the young readers too.

Colours of riot
Political and religious manipulations by some criminal minded politicians and other
miscreants like terrorists pave the way for youth to go astray along with aggravating socio-
economic conditions. Comics of Doga have engaged with the discourse in the series Doga
Hindu Hai (Raj Comics 2008). This series was written by Sanjay Gupta and Tarun Kumar
Wahi, who is a Punjabi. In October 1984 Indira Gandhi, the then Prime Minister of India,
was assassinated of by her Sikh bodyguards. This led to a backlash against the entire Sikh
community in which some prominent political leaders of the ruling party were actively
involved. Growing up in Delhi at that time perhaps shaped his outlook of the world as full
of threats (Kumar 2010). Doga’s use of force to deal with his antagonists could be under­
stood as a subconscious reaction to a general atmosphere of fear. Johnny E. Miles quotes
Will Eisner in a similar context, ‘[Jews needed] a hero who could protect us against an
almost invincible force . . . So [Siegel and Shuster] created an invincible hero’ (Miles 2018,
07). Amitabh Kumar reinforces this notion when the personae of Nagraj says: ‘We are their
superheroes. We defend and protect society. We are part of their unified desire [emphasis
mine] . . . ’ (Kumar 2008, 13). Interestingly, while the series was running in 2008–2009
Delhi High Court acquitted the prime accused.
Whereas the issues discussed earlier had a single or a group of young people at risk, in
Doga Hindu Hai series, we find whole communities (Muslims and Hindus) to be in the
danger of being misled by the nefarious machinations of the antagonist Bloodman. India
has a long and bloody history of riots10 where the opponents have mainly been Hindus
and Muslims. In these riots, it is usually the young people who are involved though many
who are butchered in the name of religion, are women and children and even senior
citizens. As these issues in the series show, it is relatively easy to incite religious hatred
among young people. In India, a large section of the youth population is unemployed (as
of January 2020, India stood at the 86th position out of 204 countries with 8.5%
unemployment rate according to indexmundi.com). Youth are often left ill-educated or
10 P. CHAKRABORTY

half-baked given the faulty educational policies of the government. An incendiary

communal situation acts as the spark to an accumulated heap of gun powder of frustrated
youth. Young people feel frustrated under the duress of unemployment or under employ­
ment. A riot effectively lets them vent their anger on any hapless victims they can find.
The looting during riots of shops and houses is also a reaction of the have-nots against
the more fortunate. These riots have a traumatic impact on the young minds. Sometimes,
a young person who lost their family or loved ones, seeks vengeance. Some of these
people are often misled by recruiters of various militant/terrorist organisations to create
nuisance in the society on religious grounds (Kaur 2019).
The setting of these issues is Mumbai (this city has often been a witness to riots and
communal clashes, the bloodiest being the communal riots in 1992 and 1993). Doga
comes into conflict with a mafia don named Bloodman who is involved in a racket of
selling blood at high costs to needy patients by creating false scarcities in blood banks. It
is interesting to note that the issue dwells upon the theme of blood which is the marker of
one’s community as one’s skin colour is supposed to be the signifier of one’s race. The
people in the blood banks are hands in glove with this mafia. The villain uses the
communal card to stop Doga and gloats that, ‘I was once an expert in inciting riots at
the insistence of politicians’ (Wahi 22, emphasis mine). After beating up a few thugs who
were working for the Bloodman, Doga leaves them with a stern warning. To incite
communal violence Bloodman kills seven out of ten of his henchmen and blames Doga
for the massacre. Bloodman does not shoot the other three people who are later identified
to be Hindus as opposed to those killed, who are identified to be Muslims. Interestingly,
the characters could not be expressly identified by clothes or their general appearance.
Perhaps by not providing distinguishable religious markers, the artists convey the
message that religious identities are usually socially constructed ideas and are highlighted
only by people with vested interests. The villain and his disciples try to attribute
a communal shade to Doga. He is made to be discriminating between Hindu and
Muslim criminals. Later into the text we find that after the intervention of Doga at
a blood bank the culprit behind the racket is caught and the crowd discusses as to how
commoners are always vulnerable to rumours and fake news. One of the ways in which
riots are instigated now-a-days is through the social media. The social media is popular
among young consumers (Bitner and Albinsson 2016, 03). Being impressionable and
lacking real experiences many of the youngsters become vulnerable to such fake news and
react more easily to the same. In Doga Hai Hai (‘Down with Doga,’ 2008) Doga responds
with non-violence against an angry mob. He throws away his weapons and sits down to
be beaten up and is almost fatally wounded. Through this image the artists deliver
a strong message that violence is not the solution to everything. There are other voices
of sanity and unity (Adrak Chacha and two Muslim persons who try to stop people from
hurting each other) that echo in the text and are an effective communication with the
young readers who read them. Raj comics has been popular in the northern and western
parts of India, which have been more prone to communal clashes throughout history.
Thus if violence represented in media can be internalised so can the readers internalise
the discourse of peace and communal unity presented in the texts. Riots often result out
of rumours and half-truths. Violence is the obvious aspect of the same. Ironically, one of
the ways in which the medium of comics tries to create awareness is through a masked
vigilante whose origins remain unknown to the public. Again, in the concluding issue of
 JOURNAL OF GRAPHIC NOVELS AND COMICS 11

the series, we find Doga using surgical violence to stem the riots. He is helped by
policemen who elicit the real culprits. They are portrayed as using their brains and not
their sticks. Doga’s technique works, and he separates the grain from the chaff by
identifying thugs who try to incite people against each other. This preventive and
micro violence acts like a laser-guided projectile to establish a certain precedence or
a way of operation to be followed by the people. This makes Kaur and Iqbal say that,
“Furnished with wondrous desires for dire situations, sub continental superheroes were
invented to promote cultural cohesion and imaginatively come to the aid of the helpless
republic-one that, on its own, could not protect its own leaders, let alone its own citizens”
(Kaur and Iqbal 73)

Dalit and doga

Besides religion, caste-based violence mars the socio-cultural fabric of India. In Doga ko
Gado (‘Bury Doga,’ 1998), due to the conspiracy of Doga’s antagonists, a riot breaks out
where a certain community erupts at the alleged insult to their leader’s statue. The issue
highlights as to how miscommunication and misrepresentation by the media results in
violence and disturbance. A criminal named Ghuspaithiya (the Infiltrator) tries to
compel the chief minister of the state of Maharashtra to double the prices of the real
estate so that he and his cronies could make illegal profits. He fails to intimidate the chief
minister and hatches a plan to pressurise him to resign and plant his own man in the
office. He plans to create a law-and-order situation by insulting a Dalit (a person
belonging to an oppressed caste in India) leader. He hopes to incite the people against
the chief minister. However, the situation takes a different turn when Doga stops a thug
from putting a garland made of shoes (considered to be a mark of abject disrespect) on
the leader’s statue. Incidentally, a photographer present there takes a photograph where it
appears that Doga is putting the garland on the statue (See Figure 3).
In a brilliant visual metaphor, the cover artist effectively highlights a usual tool of riot
instigation (the shoe-garland) and its result in the form of the fire that is engulfing the
image. The chief minister faces the public ire that results from riots. The photographer
visits the minister and sells the photograph for a price, suggesting that the minister could
blame Doga for this whole situation. Driven by his conscience, the minister commits
suicide rather than defaming Doga. However, his sacrifice goes in vain when the police
find the half-burnt photograph in the minister’s office. Everyone blames Doga for the
riots until Doga finds out the photographer who is grievously injured by the criminals
who now try to stop him from telling the truth to the public. The photographer points
towards a vital clue that helps Doga clear his name. The cover image carried this clue and
the photographer confirms this. In this issue, we find how deep the criminal elements
have literally ‘infiltrated’ the political sphere, how reporters and media sell themselves to
cater to the forces of chaos and how common people are easily led astray by the unholy
nexus of the criminals, politicians, and media. Interestingly, Doga uses minimum
violence to solve this case and the greedy photographer ends up repenting. This issue
points towards the fact that castiest or political violence could be stemmed by paying
attention to the details of each case. Investigating agencies often miss these subtle points.
Through this so-called trivial medium, a significant message is relayed to readers about
12 P. CHAKRABORTY

the conspiracies that work behind any communal or social trouble. Another subtle but
self-reflective idea that can catch our critical gaze is the fact that comics themselves are
a graphic medium which tends to have a deeper impact on the collective psyche in
comparison to traditional textual media (Gabaron 2017). The photograph that creates all
this trouble also belongs to a visual medium. Any wrong usage of either photojournalism
or sequential media could lead to miscommunication and a proper usage might lead to
the creation of better perspectives. Yet, in parallel to the lack of data on the policies on
youth management in India, the lack of data on the number, gender or age of people
reading comic books (Rambhatla 2017) makes it difficult to establish analytical studies.

Conclusion
In the 1990s, though there were vigilante heroes in the Bollywood (Roychaudhury 2018),
they were often beyond the visual grasp of the average middle or lower middle-class
youngsters. Internet was not affordable, cable TV was a luxury only few could afford and
frequent trips to a cinema hall, especially in a mofussil were difficult. It was Raj Comics
which brought a fire breathing ‘desi’ vigilante superhero to the young readers. These
quarter-century old texts had found a niche but permanent place in their impressionable
psyche. These psycho-scapes are often revisited by the same readers (now when they have
buying power) as a reinforcement of nostalgic responses. These retro-reader-responses
warrant the present research.
Registering a departure from fantasy, mythology (Nagraj Comics), science-fiction
(Parmanu) and make-believe worlds (Dhruv) Doga is rooted in the real city of Mumbai.
Doga reflects the collective anger not only of the readers but also of the writers against
corruption, delayed justice, political apathies, and general sense of frustration against the
flawed systems of our country. Doga comics engage with themes that reflect youth anxieties
and perils through its visual language, its colloquial dialogues and realistic character
portrayals. Just like the synergistic mechanics of comics that combine images and texts,
the comics under review combine an escapist relief (thus de-stressing readers) and realistic
representations of everyday problems (Kaur and Iqbal 62) and their unconventional
solutions by Doga (Kumar 2010). These comics also help vent the angst of the writers
and artists too, who otherwise might not be able to convey their frustrations through
traditional platforms of intellectual and socio-cultural exchanges. Like any other modern
media product, Doga comics are not openly didactic and perhaps that is why it has been
successful in connecting with its audience. Moreover, Hindi comics in general has been
catching up to the digital platforms (having kindle formats and PDFs) and with a large
swath of readers with Hindi as their first language (44%, according to 2011 census), Hindi
comics still reaches a large base of comics loyalists. The message that these comics beam
onto the psyche of the readers is that it is possible to be like Doga. The comics do not
suggest that they were deliberately created for a grand educational programme yet as they
developed, they perhaps internalised the dictum of ‘instruction with delight’.
Doga’s brand of justice is quick and certain. A general comic book (of 32 pages) is
usually quickly read through. The young readers appropriated this quick format often
internalising the visual hints, which gradually grew into various socio-psycho-political
complexes vis-à-vis the visual representation of India and its youth. This paper could be
 JOURNAL OF GRAPHIC NOVELS AND COMICS 13

a first step to further understand the impact of these complexes on the process of nation
building thus warranting further research.

Notes
1. The French Revolution as It Appeared to Enthusiasts at Its Commencement (1809).
2. According to, The Power of 1.8 Billion: Adolescents, Youth and the Transformation of the
Future (2014), India has the world’s highest number of 10 to 24-year-olds, with 356 million
young people.
3. All translations mine unless otherwise mentioned.
4. According to a survey named, ‘Survey on Hindi and Other Vernacular Comics Readership
and the Issue of violence therein’, I conducted, from 8th June to 4th July 2021, out of 81
responses, 41 people said they started reading comics from the age group of 9 to 18 (among
others most pin less than 9 years as their initiation with comics).
5. Translated from Hindi.
6. See Reviving Indian Comics, 2019.
7. Raavan is the name of a demon king in the epic Ramayana. This could be understood to be
a way in which popular cultural texts like comics books interact with ancient Indian myths.
Here the hero has been aligned with a traditional villain in Indian culture.
8. In the survey mentioned above, 22% of people out of 81 respondents said that they are
attracted to the comic books due to the portrayal of violence there and 46.9% people find
comics (they read) without violence to be less appealing. Again, 50.06% agree that the hero/
heroine should beat or kill the villains.
9. Not related to DC.
10. The Production of Hindu Muslim Violence in Contemporary India (2011) by Paul R. Brass
talks in detail about the history of riots in India.

Disclosure statement
No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.

ORCID
Pritesh Chakraborty http://orcid.org/0000-0002-2317-560X

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