<p>The halls of KTPO, Whitefield had already begun to blur into colour and sound. Capes brushed past backpacks, foam swords knocked gently against coffee cups, and somewhere between a Deadpool arguing with C3PO, Lara Croft adjusting her holster near a merch stall, a child tugged insistently at their parent’s hand, already overwhelmed by the scale of it all.</p><p>By mid-afternoon, the event floor was a living mosaic of fandom. Students from design colleges compared sketches, older fans lingered at tables of vintage comics, and families navigated aisles filled with action figures, posters, and gaming rigs. “We’ve expanded considerably — from four cities to eight, to 11 this year,” said Nishant Patel, SVP at NODWIN Gaming. “Emerging markets are where our strengths are… How happy were the exhibitors? And most importantly, would they come back to the next Comic Con?”</p>.<p>The creators’ corner carried a quiet intensity. Peter Nguyen, Marvel and DC penciller, while frequently signing off posters of his illustrations for the fans, said, "Feedback is important in art." “To hear a fan say it changed me or helped me when I was depressed — that makes it all worth it.” Around him, young artists hovered nervously over their drawings, while older attendees offered nods of approval, snapping pictures or quietly appreciating intricate sketches. Comic Con, Nguyen added, was “one of the few places where fans and artists could be vulnerable together.”</p><p>Indian comics had their own prominence. Reena Puri, executive editor of Amar Chitra Katha, emphasized the medium’s continuing responsibility. “Children believe what we put in Amar Chitra Katha is authentic,” she said. “If it is written Amar Chitra Katha, it is the truth.” She pointed to newer titles addressing environmental issues, gender equality, and historical figures often overlooked in mainstream curricula. “Girls do not know the women who fought for these liberations. So we brought out women path-breakers, valiant women who fight for their freedom, we felt needed more of that, thus the redefining of Sita, we went through the entire Valmiki Ramayana for this..”</p><p>Sanjay Gupta, co-founder of Raj Comics, spoke to the significance of local heroes. “Since childhood, I loved superheroes, but I always felt India lacked its own. That is why I created Nagraj, Doga, Super Commando Dhruv,” he said. “Through these characters, we wanted people to see a superhero within themselves. We all have our own powers and strengths; sometimes we need to be reminded of that.”</p><p>Cosplayers punctuated the floor with colour, humour, and ingenuity. An ensemble of family and friends dressed as characters from the iconic film Sholay said they wanted to commemorate its 50th anniversary, celebrating a part of their childhood. A seven-year-old posed as Asrani’s Jailor, laughing as photos snapped relentlessly. Veteran cosplayer Prady Das recreated scenes from the movie with his friends, Mahima as Thakur and Amisha as Basanti. Adding to the fun, a father-daughter duo dressed as Jai and Veeru, drawing smiles from everyone around.</p>.<p>Nearby, teenagers flaunted anime favourites — one Naruto, a pair from Demon Slayer, and someone carefully adjusting a cardboard ghillie suit, spinning a homemade prop in a mock battle, while a teenager in a Chainsaw Man outfit laughed uncontrollably at a group cosplay misstep. “Cosplay is a labour of love,” Nishant said. “The prize money itself should not be the determining factor… primarily, it’s about passion.” For many, he added, it was simply about being seen and accepted.</p><p>Even international characters drew attention. Chris Cardwell, from LA, USA, dressed as Darth Vader, knelt to hand a lightsaber to a small child who froze in awe. “Adults’ eyes get wide, some run up hugging me, crying, parents handing me their babies, I have been handed pets for crying out loud” he said, smiling behind the mask. “Kids look scared at first… then they warm up. I’ll do this until the day I die.” A group of teenagers nearby whispered excitedly as he raised his hand for a playful ‘Force choke.’</p><p>In quieter corners, fans paused to take in the scope. A group of office colleagues wore matching Deadpool shirts, murmuring jokes between panels. A parent with two children held a sketchbook, letting them flip through their favourite heroes. Sahil Shah, comedian, reflected on the broader experience. “You see people dressed up and no one is judging. Everyone’s here to have fun… Your cultural perspective grows.”</p><p>Even the smallest details carried energy. Props, shoes, wigs, and handcrafted swords competed for attention with massive LED displays and gaming zones. Pratik Banerjee, in his upgraded Jack Sparrow costume, wandered through the floor. “You get to be anonymous. Nobody cares who I am… I am just Captain Jack Sparrow. You feel like a celebrity,” he said, adjusting a makeshift hat and a sword. For him and many others, the joy was the act of participation itself, rather than performance.</p><p>By evening, panels had ended, and performances began to draw a quieter, more reflective attention. Workshops on comic writing and panel discussions about cultural impact brought the crowd closer to the people behind the art. Robert Capron, known for Diary of a Wimpy Kid, spoke about identity and self-confidence. “He [Rowley] is someone who is radically himself… anything else will drive you crazy. Comic Con is a place where you can be yourself without having to explain it.” He added, “Seeing fans light up when they connect with a character — it’s humbling. It reminds me why stories matter, why representation matters, and how a small act of creativity can make someone feel seen.”</p><p>As the day wound down, attendees lingered, reluctant to leave. Costumes were crumpled but colourful, posters folded in arms, flags trailing behind tired hands. Some families discussed plans for next year, teenagers compared sketches, and cosplayers quietly packed up their props. For many, the message was simple: this space belongs to everyone, regardless of age, fandom, or experience. And as one fan shouted while walking toward the exit, not as a statement but as a simple truth: “We’re here. And we’re not done yet.”</p>
<p>The halls of KTPO, Whitefield had already begun to blur into colour and sound. Capes brushed past backpacks, foam swords knocked gently against coffee cups, and somewhere between a Deadpool arguing with C3PO, Lara Croft adjusting her holster near a merch stall, a child tugged insistently at their parent’s hand, already overwhelmed by the scale of it all.</p><p>By mid-afternoon, the event floor was a living mosaic of fandom. Students from design colleges compared sketches, older fans lingered at tables of vintage comics, and families navigated aisles filled with action figures, posters, and gaming rigs. “We’ve expanded considerably — from four cities to eight, to 11 this year,” said Nishant Patel, SVP at NODWIN Gaming. “Emerging markets are where our strengths are… How happy were the exhibitors? And most importantly, would they come back to the next Comic Con?”</p>.<p>The creators’ corner carried a quiet intensity. Peter Nguyen, Marvel and DC penciller, while frequently signing off posters of his illustrations for the fans, said, "Feedback is important in art." “To hear a fan say it changed me or helped me when I was depressed — that makes it all worth it.” Around him, young artists hovered nervously over their drawings, while older attendees offered nods of approval, snapping pictures or quietly appreciating intricate sketches. Comic Con, Nguyen added, was “one of the few places where fans and artists could be vulnerable together.”</p><p>Indian comics had their own prominence. Reena Puri, executive editor of Amar Chitra Katha, emphasized the medium’s continuing responsibility. “Children believe what we put in Amar Chitra Katha is authentic,” she said. “If it is written Amar Chitra Katha, it is the truth.” She pointed to newer titles addressing environmental issues, gender equality, and historical figures often overlooked in mainstream curricula. “Girls do not know the women who fought for these liberations. So we brought out women path-breakers, valiant women who fight for their freedom, we felt needed more of that, thus the redefining of Sita, we went through the entire Valmiki Ramayana for this..”</p><p>Sanjay Gupta, co-founder of Raj Comics, spoke to the significance of local heroes. “Since childhood, I loved superheroes, but I always felt India lacked its own. That is why I created Nagraj, Doga, Super Commando Dhruv,” he said. “Through these characters, we wanted people to see a superhero within themselves. We all have our own powers and strengths; sometimes we need to be reminded of that.”</p><p>Cosplayers punctuated the floor with colour, humour, and ingenuity. An ensemble of family and friends dressed as characters from the iconic film Sholay said they wanted to commemorate its 50th anniversary, celebrating a part of their childhood. A seven-year-old posed as Asrani’s Jailor, laughing as photos snapped relentlessly. Veteran cosplayer Prady Das recreated scenes from the movie with his friends, Mahima as Thakur and Amisha as Basanti. Adding to the fun, a father-daughter duo dressed as Jai and Veeru, drawing smiles from everyone around.</p>.<p>Nearby, teenagers flaunted anime favourites — one Naruto, a pair from Demon Slayer, and someone carefully adjusting a cardboard ghillie suit, spinning a homemade prop in a mock battle, while a teenager in a Chainsaw Man outfit laughed uncontrollably at a group cosplay misstep. “Cosplay is a labour of love,” Nishant said. “The prize money itself should not be the determining factor… primarily, it’s about passion.” For many, he added, it was simply about being seen and accepted.</p><p>Even international characters drew attention. Chris Cardwell, from LA, USA, dressed as Darth Vader, knelt to hand a lightsaber to a small child who froze in awe. “Adults’ eyes get wide, some run up hugging me, crying, parents handing me their babies, I have been handed pets for crying out loud” he said, smiling behind the mask. “Kids look scared at first… then they warm up. I’ll do this until the day I die.” A group of teenagers nearby whispered excitedly as he raised his hand for a playful ‘Force choke.’</p><p>In quieter corners, fans paused to take in the scope. A group of office colleagues wore matching Deadpool shirts, murmuring jokes between panels. A parent with two children held a sketchbook, letting them flip through their favourite heroes. Sahil Shah, comedian, reflected on the broader experience. “You see people dressed up and no one is judging. Everyone’s here to have fun… Your cultural perspective grows.”</p><p>Even the smallest details carried energy. Props, shoes, wigs, and handcrafted swords competed for attention with massive LED displays and gaming zones. Pratik Banerjee, in his upgraded Jack Sparrow costume, wandered through the floor. “You get to be anonymous. Nobody cares who I am… I am just Captain Jack Sparrow. You feel like a celebrity,” he said, adjusting a makeshift hat and a sword. For him and many others, the joy was the act of participation itself, rather than performance.</p><p>By evening, panels had ended, and performances began to draw a quieter, more reflective attention. Workshops on comic writing and panel discussions about cultural impact brought the crowd closer to the people behind the art. Robert Capron, known for Diary of a Wimpy Kid, spoke about identity and self-confidence. “He [Rowley] is someone who is radically himself… anything else will drive you crazy. Comic Con is a place where you can be yourself without having to explain it.” He added, “Seeing fans light up when they connect with a character — it’s humbling. It reminds me why stories matter, why representation matters, and how a small act of creativity can make someone feel seen.”</p><p>As the day wound down, attendees lingered, reluctant to leave. Costumes were crumpled but colourful, posters folded in arms, flags trailing behind tired hands. Some families discussed plans for next year, teenagers compared sketches, and cosplayers quietly packed up their props. For many, the message was simple: this space belongs to everyone, regardless of age, fandom, or experience. And as one fan shouted while walking toward the exit, not as a statement but as a simple truth: “We’re here. And we’re not done yet.”</p>