Main Hoon Superhero

Fear. Horror. And panic. It is all here. And now!

The withered leaves lying idle in the afternoon sun suddenly see movement. Hot air blows across the haunted streets making the leaves waft along lazily. All living beings (mostly dogs) seem to be too comfortable here (stretching and yawning) with no knowledge of what is about to come. There’s an occasional buzz of an auto rickshaw now and then adding to the whole atmosphere of a lazy Sunday afternoon. The sky was clear blue like a still lake with no blemishes of a paintbrush. Perfect! 

Well, there isn’t much happening here. So, what is here to tell? It’s all perfect. NO!

I am about to tell you a story of a hero. Of a legend. With superpowers. He is here to save the world from evil. A charming, suave and brave hero. The hero that we all need and deserve. A hero of his own right, unmatched and unconquered. And he is in your neighbourhood, out to protect you and your loved ones. 

If this was a movie scene, there’d be some heroic music. It’s ok. I can live it. 

But yeah, SUPERHERO!

You might think how such deadly evil could be lurking around in a suburban Mumbai neighborhood. Well, it did. Don’t worry. Our hero is here to save us all.

The lazy lying leaves were showing clear tremble movement. It looked like a mild earthquake. The dogs hopped up from their siesta and were excitable at the fact of a quake occurring. People started to notice too. Some came out of their homes, some were just passing by, looking at those who’d come out. The traffic lights started working funny. It wasn’t your normal Sunday afternoon at all now. Everyone around in the neighborhood became panicky. Some were yelling at the others, others were being yelled at (obviously). It was in one word, chaotic. 

Fear. Horror. And panic. It is all here. And now!

An eerie sense of calm prevailed for some time now. The trembling died down. The traffic lights went off. Everyone was just staring at something. 

The sounds of a stick-like object were heard on the road. And it was in continuous and rhythmic fashion that it was heard as if someone was approaching steadily. The sounds were increasing in decibel. Each step meant a louder sound. As it approached the middle of the road, you could see the gigantic shadow on the road created by the harsh rays of the sun. A round-headed demon with a bloated body of a bear and tentacles skillful enough to catch 4 children at a time. Its advantage was the weapon in hand and the disadvantage of its speed. To everyone’s horror, it grabbed a child and hit him. It was terrifying. The child whimpering and visibly shaken, there was no one to go to, but one.

All you had to do was call him out. Shout out the words, “Sonu, aaja!”

And that’s it. He’d be there to help you, the very next second.

On the terrace of Mrs. Mehta’s house, a lot of clothes was hung out for drying. Each of those flapping precariously in the wind. And very near to those, we see our hero’s cape flapping as well. Not precariously, of course. He is watching. And he is ready to destroy the beast. He looks down at the atrocity carried out by the devil and has a soft grin on his face. Let me tell you something. That grin. It signals the downfall of our hero’s enemies. That grin is the first and the last thing any supervillain sees after seeing our hero. His shadow on the terrace didn’t exactly show how tall he was unlike the devil’s. But that doesn’t bring down the staggering greatness of our superhero.

Once again, to emphasise to you, this is the story of a hero. Of a legend. With superpowers. He is here to save the world from evil. He is charming. He is suave. And he is brave. He is the hero that we all need and the hero we all deserve. He is a hero of his own right. He is unmatched and unconquered. He listens to his mother. And he eats his veggies. 

“Arre, Sonu! Kya kar raha hai? Mummy ko bulaun?”

Sometimes, heroes are misunderstood. And mistaken. They may not follow society’s rules and they may go above it to help. To fight evil in society. To bring happiness and joy to the people he considers his own. They all look up to him. And they love him. And whatever a hero does, is misunderstood. Mrs. Mehta didn’t realise this. She misunderstood too. Maybe because he was standing on her terrace and looking. Or maybe because he used one of the clothes that were kept for drying. No one knows. It may look like our hero lost this battle with the stick holding devil, but there’s more. And he will defeat the evil.