'In Passing' — Sandeep Joshi

Sandeep Joshi, the  cartoonist, is like tiramisu, a harmonious balance of creamy, bitter, and sweet flavours

The stylus on my phone has been the cause of many a comment. Once, I was taking some notes on the phone while talking to Dr. Manmohan Singh, and he was intrigued enough to remark: “Oh! You can write on your phone?”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, and showed him the first thing that had been drawn on the phone after I acquired it — a caricature of him by Sandeep Joshi, using the stylus for the first time! The nifty little piece of art drew an amused smile from Dr. Manmohan Singh. He was familiar with Sandeep’s work, having seen his cartoons, and also received one from him years ago.

Sandeep Joshi’s “In Passing” pocket cartoon column regularly enriched the front page of The Tribune soon after he joined the newspaper 36 years ago. His "Tau Boleya" series in Dainik Tribune had started earlier in 1986, even before he formally joined The Tribune. His work featured regularly in Punjabi Tribune. And in his long innings, Sandeep remained a consistent voice of visual editorial expression for the group he served with aplomb. He hangs up his boots at the end of this month (mind you, not his pen and brushes!), and indeed, it is an occasion to celebrate a friend, colleague, and partner in many projects that we jointly undertook at The Tribune.

Sandeep Joshi listens closely as Dr Manmohan Singh addresses The Tribune editorial staff

Sandeep has received creativity in legacy from his father, the late Balraj Joshi, who was a published Hindi short-story writer and poet — and there is poetry in Sandeep’s strong lines. He has the knack to convey what he wants to, often sharp political commentary, without causing personal offence to the subject, a creative refinement not commonly seen. Over the years, many public figures, including a few thin-skinned politicians, have registered admiration for his work, even when they were at the receiving end. His caricatures made during election campaign trails were especially a hit, and many political personalities signed those for him, something he is rightfully proud of.

A caricaturist identifies a stand-out feature in a subject’s face, and exaggerates it. Not very conscious of this fact as a young person, I was surprised to see that Indira Gandhi’s nose was not as long as it was drawn in cartoons when I met her in person. Much later in life, as I developed a personal relationship with Sandeep beyond the professional, I was to learn much about art and perception from him.

While I personally feel that the strength of Sandeep’s lines makes his drawings unique, he is also an accomplished painter, and I have the fortune of having some of his watercolours grace my walls.

At The Tribune, Sandeep played many roles. He was the designer for a weekend supplement, Spectrum, when K P Sinha edited it. We also used his talent for creating illustrations for Saturday Plus, then edited by Swaraaj Chauhan. L H Naqvi had a great nose for news, often pitching in with political ideas for Sandeep’s cartoons, and used his work on the pages he handled, including the weekend pullouts that he was later charged with. These supplements provided Sandeep with the forum to explore his vast and varied talents with pen and brush, including abstract works that he did for a special Literary Edition that we brought out . From caricatures to cartoons, and portraits to illustrations, he did it all while at The Tribune. Personally, I had a close and extensive interaction with him over work for Log-in Tribune, and practically all my “Last word” columns were illustrated by him.

Editors changed—from Prem Bhatia, during whose tenure Sandeep’s work first featured in The Tribune on a freelance basis, to V N Narayanan, who brought him in as a regular artist on the rolls, till Jyoti Malhotra now—and each found a unique way to exploit Sandeep Joshi’s talent for the paper. A J Philip added to it by starting the tradition of gifting a caricature of a retiring person to him, all drawn by Sandeep Joshi. Many of us who have retired from The Tribune, thus, have a visual reminder of our days at the paper in the form of a framed caricature by Sandeep adorning our homes.

Today, as he looks at the dawn of a fresh innings in the world of art — free of the encumbrances and restrictions of a job — all of us, including those who have been the subject of his strokes, or have simply enjoyed his work over a cup of tea with a copy of The Tribune, can look forward to a wider canvas and deeper colours from his fertile mind.