Taking out her notebook on a day in June 2014, and doodling a stick-figure comic as a reaction to a move of the then new Narendra Modi government would inadvertently launch Rachita Taneja’s career as a political cartoonist. She had just heard about the arrest of students who critiqued the government and wanted to express her frustration through the lines and curves that poured out of her in a huff. A photograph of the comic brought enough appreciation – even from her otherwise hard-to-impress brother – that she began a page online, called it Sanitary Panels, and continued to doodle figures every time she felt moved by a piece of news.
In 12 years, Sanitary Panels would be well known, revered, and followed. Of course, she has her share of online abuse from haters. Not surprising since two of her pet topics are gender and politics. She also draws passionately about climate change, queer rights, and against discrimination on the grounds of caste and religion. “It quickly gained an audience that was seemingly hungry for a young woman’s take on the world around her,” she writes in the introduction to a collection of her comics titled Touching Grass, released in 2026.
Rachita is known by her comic – Sanitary Panels – even though she has revealed her name online and at the back of the book. In an interview with TNM, she talks about her book, the topics she covers and how she does it, and what she most enjoys in cartooning.
In the book, divided into four sections, are small pages of text written with an enviable clarity of thought and the conviction of a well-researched writer. “While coming up with a structure for the book, I thought a chronological collection of comics in itself may not be a compelling narrative. I wanted to tell a story with a hopeful ending, where the reader is left feeling they do have agency and power in a doom-and-gloom reality. It was also a challenge for me to write about my beliefs in a way that complements my comics. I'm hoping the book comes together to make politics feel less intimidating to younger readers who might be interested in being involved but don't necessarily know how,” she says.
Surprisingly, the topic that she is most invested in writing about is the need for all of us internet-addicted generations to unplug once in a while and “touch grass” with reality. Realisation struck when she caught herself worrying about the lack of internet during a trip to the wilderness.
“Since my line of work requires me to stay up to date on the news, I caught myself using it as an excuse to just be on my phone all the time. Spending big chunks of time looking at various social media timelines was, in fact, detrimental to my work. It made me feel stuck and powerless; it was harder to concentrate and reflect on one piece of news long enough to be able to process it, and I could almost feel my brain getting foggier. The only ones winning were the social media companies, who were collecting data and advertising to me,” she says.
In her short write-ups, at the end of each section, she urges the reader to try taking a break from doomscrolling and to touch grass. She realised how magical it was, she says, “during a particularly bad writer's block when I started practising wakeful rest, where I'd minimise my exposure to information and stimulation for a few hours at a time. It did wonders for my creativity!”
It obviously did. Her stick figures, even with minimal dialogue, said a lot and helped reach the minds of a generation who are otherwise hard to reach, known as they are for their short attention spans.
“The appeal of political comics lies in how effectively it can communicate more with less. It's why the form has been popular for hundreds of years. My process focuses more on the idea and the writing. I only put pen to paper when I have at least 80% of the idea already formed in my head. The drawing part of it happens fairly quickly. After it's all done, I try to refine and reduce the number of words I use to make it as straightforward and easy to engage with as possible,” says the artist.
Sometimes there is not a single word, just a very telling image, like this one.
She puts it in context on her online pages, providing images or news clippings that triggered the comic. In her book, she advocates the importance of reliable sources of information and avoiding fake news at all costs. “My comic has always been reflective of my values. I have never shied away from taking sides or being opinionated on issues. While I'm strictly non-partisan, I disagree with the belief that editorial cartoonists need to be neutral about the topics we tackle. I think my job is to cover issues that I feel are most pressing or need attention, and that's what I aim to do,” she says.
She has a few rules for herself. She does not use AI at any stage or form—to write, draw or ideate. She also refuses to criticise an already marginalised community. “My go-to rule is that if a comic can be used by the right to further discriminate against an already dispossessed group, then it is not one I should make.”
What keeps her going is the challenge of taking a complex piece of information or news and breaking it down into a simple and effective comic. “It's especially satisfying when it lands exactly as I'd meant for it to with the reader. It's almost like reaching a flow state. If I'm lucky, I get a perfect (in my mind) comic once every few months.”