It is early to be waiting for someone in a hotel lobby, that too on a Sunday morning, but I’m looking forward to meeting her after 12 years. “Where are you?” A message flashes on my phone screen. “Near the fish tank, wearing white,” I respond.

Moments later, a woman in a peach shalwar qameez pulling a little suitcase approaches me, smiling. Nigar Nazar, the first woman cartoonist of Pakistan, has not aged a day since we last met. Come to think of it, she has always looked like this as far as I can remember.

She comes bearing gifts. The suitcase opens and out comes Gogi merchandise that she has specially brought from Islamabad for friends. Gogi is of course Nigar’s signature creation — an attractive, young Pakistani woman with short hair who became the most memorable female character in Pakistani cartoons. There are Gogi books, mugs, stickers, key chains and much more.

Of course, in all the pictures, Gogi is always wearing a polka-dot print — white polka dots on a red shirt or red polka dots on a white shirt. The keychain has her in green polka dots on an orange shirt with a green collar. Somewhere else, she has black dots on a yellow dress — with a flowing dupatta, she is the epitome of grace.

Nigar Nazar shot to fame as Pakistan’s first female cartoonist more than 50 years ago, without any formal schooling in the craft, but through finding mentors along the way. In doing that, she also created one of Pakistan’s most memorable cartoon characters…

With time, Gogi has also come of age. Gone is the carefree, happy-go-lucky girl, getting herself into all kinds of messes, such as getting a lollypop accidentally stuck in her hair which, after several failed attempts to pull out, had to be covered up with more hair and held in place with a ribbon, although the little stick still stuck out as she went to college.

In her place we have a confident young woman spreading awareness about the environment, tree plantation, water conservation, women’s rights, children’s rights, health issues, population control, littering, corruption and what not.

She sings and dances to tell you about the ills in society, where there is theft — daku [bandit] with chaaqu [knife] — corruption, pollution et al. But then, amid all the mess, you are told that “Aik achhaaee bhi achhee hai” [Even one good deed makes a big difference]. Amid the bad people here, we also have some good, selfless people such as Abdul Sattar Edhi, who did so much for humanity. Amid the pollution, where a rickshaw leaves you coughing in a cloud of grey smoke, someone also plants a tree.

It’s been a long, winding road for Gogi who first came to national prominence more than 50 years ago. When Nigar first started drawing Gogi, she was also only in her twenties. She is now a grandmother, though a very spritely and well-preserved one. Although Gogi strips stopped appearing in newspapers since 1996, Nigar has made sure that her creation has found new avenues to remain in the public eye and taken on new passions.

The cute polka dots seem like cheetah spots when Gogi speaks about women empowerment and human rights. Her eyelashes, too, seem longer as she makes her point. From being drawn on paper, she has moved to appearing on buses. Well, technically, she is still drawn on paper, but that paper, or panaflex rather, is now being wrapped around buses.

Nigar first did it in 2004, when 13 public transport buses and passenger vans in Islamabad and Rawalpindi featured Gogi cartoons on them. Now, in 2024, she has joined hands with the Australian High Commission and the Australian Centre for International Agriculture Research to spread word about water conservation through University of Faisalabad buses.

“Climate change is pushing us to change behaviours,” Nigar tells Eos. “Water is at the base of climate change. You need it for sustaining life. You need it for agriculture, for planting trees and for so many other things. Then it is natural to conserve water, such an important resource.”

She feels strongly about using her skill to spread awareness. “Cartoons amuse. They are also a means of mental escape from thoughts of doom and gloom,” she says. “Cartoons should not be restricted to children. Anyone can be amused by a cartoon,” she adds.

Nigar always wanted to be a cartoonist though she never could find a professional school in Pakistan to teach her how to do that. During her college years, she knew a girl named ‘Gogi’, who was part of their students’ circle. “She was a sweet, chubby character, who would always be cheerful, a trait which made her quite popular among her peers. I liked her upbeat nature,” Nigar remembers.

Anyway, going back to her search to find someone who could teach her how to make cartoons, Nigar started frequenting the Arts Council of Pakistan (ACP) in Karachi during the late 1960s where, although she could not find anyone for the purpose, she did, however, get to rub shoulders with many big artists of the day. “I still have a cartoon on my living room wall that is very dear to me. It is a cartoon of the great Sadequain, that was sketched by Aziz Cartoonist of the Morning News,” she reveals.

“Actually, knowing of my interest in art, and watching me come to the Arts Council day after day, Sadequain sahib had requested Aziz sahib to give me a live demonstration of how he drew cartoons. With cigarette in hand, he also volunteered to model for Aziz sahib. And after the sketch was done he, Aziz sahib and myself signed on it, before the cartoonist presented it to me,” Nigar remembers fondly.

In Karachi, Nigar also met other artist friends such as the late Ali Imam, who was then the principal of the Institute of Arts and Crafts. “Not finding a proper cartoonist teacher, I used to borrow books on art from the Institute,” she says. Imam wanted to know if the books were doing her any good. So he instructed Nigar to make a cartoon every day and show it to him.

“He was a very strict principal and a man of few words,” she laughs at the memory. “But he also published my first Gogi cartoon, in four panels on a full page, in the institute’s annual magazine,” she says.

Ali Imam also introduced Nigar to Shamim Ahmed, the editor of daily The Sun. “The Sun was a new newspaper in 1971. Its editor was searching for a cartoonist for the paper,” Nigar explains. Soon, she was submitting a cartoon every day to the publication.

Nigar recalls that the paper had other cartoonists too, including political cartoonists. “But they didn’t have to submit a cartoon daily, because I was making comic strips. They needed a fresh, witty and humorous comic strip every day,” she says.

Being young and restless, Nigar was still up for further challenges. One year later, she found her way to the state broadcaster, Pakistan Television, where she was asked to make live cartoons during a segment on a children’s show.

With a black marker in hand, she would make cartoon after cartoon of Gogi on blank paper sheets pinned on a board, as the camera focused on her sketching hand. It showed her beloved character involved in something funny to amuse children, as she narrated what was unfolding in the story.

There was no looking back for Nigar or Gogi after that. There have been numerous Gogi exhibitions — both nationally and internationally. Actually, the cartoonist and her cartoon went international after Nigar got married in the early 1980s. Her husband was in the Foreign Service and they got to stay in different countries during his various postings abroad.

“I went to Turkey and Gogi started appearing in Turkish magazines,” she reminisces about her travels and artwork. “In Libya, too, my cartoons were published in Arabic after being translated from English,” she says.

More international exposure included her six-week visit to Colorado Springs in the US, where Gogi found fans in churches and primary schools, and even universities.

Nigar was in Spain last year, where she was shortlisted for the Casa Asia Award, which recognises individuals as well as organisations for their work in various fields, such as culture, society, education and economic development. Of course Gogi is involved in everything.

Looking ahead, Nigar is now working on a series of Gogi comic books, a total of 12, one for each month of a year, about cancer. “The series, titled Killing Cancer Kindly, aims to educate children about the disease. The books, with the underlying theme that cancer is curable now, tell readers about what to expect while patients are under treatment, to make them receptive to the medicines,” she says.

Earlier, Nigar had also made cartoon murals for hospitals, such as the Pakistan Institute of Medical Sciences (22 murals there), the Rawalpindi General Hospital and the District Headquarter Hospital in Raja Bazaar.

She has already done Gogi puppets, various activity books and board games. More such passion projects include a Gogi colouring book, which is going to be about Pakistan’s rich culture, such as traditional village life with animals, charpoys, handcrafted fans, clothes, embroidery, bullock carts, tongas etc.

She may have got initial inspiration for Gogi from a college friend, but I see a lot of Gogi in Nigar Nazar too. She makes Gogi say or do what she wants to say or do. She has given Gogi her comical sense of humour, too.

Nigar also has the same short and sassy haircut as Gogi, I feel. When I point that out, I’m quickly told the difference: “No, Gogi has bangs!”

The writer is a member of staff.
X: @HasanShazia

Published in Dawn, EOS, December 1st, 2024