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The childhood SUPERHERO

Hakuna Matata! I must ask you, have you ever felt, or been in,the moment where all we dream isto become that rescue commander fighting for his country orthat action man that would come in the climax and will settle everything down?


“So, once upon a time, as cliched as it sounds,

into the realms of a teenage child, stood an aspiring SUPERhero.

The maskman, with the red clothes and hefty muscles,

the six packs, the dashing hair,

and obviously how could you forget the mandatory cloak. Right?

I must ask you, have you ever felt, or been in,

the moment where all we dream is

to become that rescue commander fighting for his country or

that action man that would come in the climax and will settle everything down?

Like, supposedly on a high-speed motorbike,

you would save the girl from those rascals, or

would jump off the clip amidst a sudden blaze of fire, or

maybe would fight with those thieves to save your family.

Have you?

Well, if not, then let me tell you, this kid used to do that,

and like all the time.

He would often daydream about how he would sit inside that 4x4 wrecked piece of his imaginary car which for obvious reasons,

would be equipped with the bullet sockets below the headlights,

embodied with the floating suspension for alternative terrain(s),

and also the nano missile launcher inside the silencer hole, and a lot more of course.

The idea was to save the world.

He would often sit in cars for hours,

personifying the seat belt clutches as some rocket pad that he would use on his expedition against the bad beings.

During his school recess, he would often pray to God

asking for some terrorist groups to infiltrate into the school yards

so that he could finally show his superpowers to his school mates

and be their hero for ever.

For ever, I said, ladies and gentleman.


.Unfortunately, it never happened.

He could never become a hero, or a celebrity,

or that centre of attraction of his peer group,

he couldn't be that cool guy,

his dream shattered,

his ingrained image got destroyed,

he couldn't find himself,

he couldn't locate his identity,

he had an apparent state of existential crisis.

He couldn’t agree with the idea of not being the chosen one,

he couldn't get settled for just another being,

he was no longer the mysterious descendant( like any other Shaktiman),

he was no longer that maskman,

he was no longer,

he was no longer, a




grew up.”

Well, we all have had such childhood imaginations which we let go as we decide to become mature, isn’t it? Where is that superhero or superwoman, now?

Where in this seven hell of wonders have they gone lost?

Are they dead?

Or have they been forgotten?

Were those all nothing but just mere illusions?

Was that superhero was just a one time gig?


What if it was the ingrained identity of yours?

Perhaps, what if that was your actual purpose?

What if that was your original mission, your plan by the almighty?

Where is that hero now?

Because the world still needs it,
In fact it needs it more than ever,
the world is at threat,
whether it's your’s or mine,
it need those powers, those beliefs
to fight the odds against humanity,
or should I say, the odds against yourself .

For more such posts, visit: https://www.instagram.com/_magsman/

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I love Stories. I am passionate about them. This recently discovered ingrained interest traces back to the times when the narration of the tales from Ramayana or Mahabharata was a daily bedtime gig. Thanks to the mother. Though I love mythology epics now. I do all my work coiling it as a story. I love to contribute to products and services that affect the mundane life. Ask about me, a decently balanced amalgamation of a conversationalist, orator, scribbler, physics lover, philosophy maniac, intuitively analytical, aplomb, adaptive, conscientious, possess vigilant leadership skills, and bluntly honest with romanticised interpersonal skills if tested over a cup of tea.

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