Adventures in Ink: My Life with Balamangala and Champaka

Ask me about treasure, and I won’t point to gold. I’ll point to a dog-eared stack of Balamangala and Champaka — two Kannada comic books that were my childhood’s loyal companions. They didn’t just come with stories; they came with magic. While other kids played cricket, I traveled through giggles and imagination with Dinga, mischievous monkeys, chatty parrots, and aunties who always had a pickle recipe or a proverb.

“Laughter is the shortest distance between childhood and forever.”

Balamangala was my weekly wisdom wrapped in wackiness. Dinga, with his wild ideas and confused expressions, was a master of chaos and creativity. He once tried to make an alarm clock using a coconut and a hen. It didn’t work, of course — but I laughed till rasam came out of my nose.

Champaka added a different flavour — softer tales, clever kids, kind animals, and everyday lessons told through charm. It was like sipping filter coffee while your grandmother told you stories — sweet, warm, and slightly addictive.

“Books don’t just teach us to read; they teach us to feel, fail, laugh, and fly.”

These comics didn’t just teach Kannada — they celebrated it. They painted my world with colourful idioms, silly jokes, and characters who lived inside my pencil box and dreams.

So here’s a thought to pack with your grown-up lunchbox:

“The comics we read as kids weren’t just fun — they were soul vitamins in speech bubbles.”

Revisit them, and see how wise your laughter was.