All Quiet in Vikaspuri digs into India's hypocrisy, hunger and humour

In a YouTube interview with Kathryn Myers, Indian graphic novelist Sarnath Banerjee talks about how the graphic novel is a unique creative platform.

One does not, he says, need to be an expert writer or an exemplary artist, but one needs to be an extraordinarily sharp reader.

When the artist fades into the background and becomes one with the reader, we get to see a whole new different world out there. An intersection of images and the written word that trigger off a synaptic alchemy, and the smart reader is rewarded for paying close attention to this interplay.

Sarnath's new graphic novel, All Quiet in Vikaspuri, set in a dystopian future, predicts the grave water wars in Delhi, the rehearsals of which have already begun. His latest work cuts across different genres and by the grace of Saraswati, (who will be worshipped in a few days), is as timely as it is insightful.

Recently, Delhi chief minister Arvind Kejriwal mentioned that the Delhi Jal Board (DJB) has managed to earn more revenue (Rs 178 crore) than the last year despite supplying free water to Delhiites.

His appeal had a mixed response from the public. Former CM Sheila Dikshit has pointed out that water contamination, amongst other unresolved issues, proves the failure of his current government.

Amidst these wars on the political front, the grave dangers keep getting enlarged at the expense of a daily commodity. The 2015 UN Water report had stated that "water crisis was one of governance and not due to the lack of resource availability".

Sarnath's book is an observation of precisely this: the messy urban planning, the lack of scientific knowledge for digging up groundwater and the harsh affects of privatisation on the poor.

In areas of South Delhi like Vasant Vihar, Kalkaji, Greater Kailash et al, matters are much worse. Water theft, industrial accidents, air pollution, overpopulation and rigid class inequalities rule by the day (one South Delhi neighbourhood even invests in uranium!).

All quiet in Vikaspuri takes these into account through the eyes of Girish, the psychic plumber who is in search of the mythical river Saraswati, who then guides the reader into the many faces of this ugly battle.

In a hilarious scene, we are told that "80 per cent of Indian cities will become like Gurgaon" where people are so clueless that they think some "building" provides their water and power.

"They speak of buildings as if they are self-contained ecosystems in the Amazon", states a panel with a very graphic muscular tanker. The disparity is so alarming that on hand, drinking water is becoming expensive and on the other, people are ready to take up arms for golf courses.

If you recall, "On Air with AIB" had an episode about the amount of water wasted by golf courses. The possession of these resources - tankers, generators, sewage pipes is linked with social hierarchies and a disease gnawing Delhi. This disease is short-termism, as Sarnath calls it, and it has several origins.

Some argue its roots are "anxiety" and "third-world uncertainty about the future", while real life experiences prove it is indeed a "popular politics of bombast, grandstanding and chamchagiri".

The rise in short-termism perhaps hints at Delhi's traumatic mayhem once mentioned by Rana Dasgupta's Capital. I enjoyed how social oppression was studied at a psychological level by both these writers.

People who were once ostracised in the city now desire of a city where they can inflict torture upon others. A vicious cycle, short-termism, has far reaching affects and Sarnath's commentary holds true for states where water resources are reaching to a near-apocalypse. Think of hydel-power projects installed in areas of tribal population as a policy to "modernise" them.

The danger doesn't end there; issues like the hypocrisies of shareholders, the reluctance of preserving groundwater and families bereft of food merge together in the book. Hunger and thirst play into traumatic livelihoods. There is a burlesque section to this where war film titles are Khurana's List, Chronicles of Narayana, The Guns of Ghantaghar and others.

The humour makes for a scathing critique of our economy and All Quiet in Vikaspuri does a meticulous job through its illustrations.

Even after I had finished the book, there was the panel of an empty plate that stared blankly at me. It said "Twitter doesn't bring revolution, but hunger does."

This very powerful image, I believe, says more about our country than the "short-term" policies, and is one of Sarnath's biggest achievements.