WoW: It's no fairy tale or magic power, super heroes are real

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’ Today's theme is 'Superheroes in Disguise.

WoW: It's no fairy tale or magic power, super heroes are real

Super heroes are fascinating. Brave! Invincible! After all, who can harm them for they are the heroes of the masses, wearing glam attire, climbing on walls and sending the dozens villains flying and zooming at jet speed in the air?!  We love them strong and powerful, don't we? We secretly pin to be like them, saving the world or stealing from the capitalists to give to the Aam Insaan. Superman, been there! Spider man, climbing act and sticking like glues to glass buildings to do the chase. Closer home, we have Koi Mil Gaya aka Krish!!! Or flash back to the joy of growing up in the 90s, my first super hero was Shahenshah with Mr Bachchan wearing those gold kilos and flashy black clothes to mouth, Rishtey mein Hum Tumhare Baap Lagta hai, Naam Hai Shahenshah.' It was my favorite film. He repeated his act in Toofan and Ajooba. I wanted to be the super hero, echoed by Amitabh Bachchan whom no one could harm or hurt, hell bent to save the world.

Be real! We cannot stop the dock of life but can make differences to lives every single day. It redefines the old age image of super heroes and heroines, the commoners, who toil every single day to adorn lives like sugar in milk.  Such people work in the dark where no film or media outlet glorify them and or add a touch of glamor to their existence. I may not know them personally but to me they are super heroes in their own deserving right.

Being a super hero is all about making differences to lives around us. A super hero tenders a noble hand to someone in need when no one wants complications in life. There are on screen super heroes. Then, there are heroes working relentlessly under the sun and gets anonymously as they can to better the world. The man or woman who collects our garbage or the couple who dry up all their savings to educate young, underprivileged children, buying books for them are constantly touching lives. Or, the cab driver who goes all the way to trace the customer who left his or her bag that contains mobile, cash or credit card is a super hero in my eyes.

Sometimes back, I read about a homeless lady who feeds stray dogs and cats on the streets in Delhi. Is she less than a super hero?! Such souls who may not be wealthy but has a heart which is nothing less than the entire richness of the world deserve our love for they are the true ones with super human power. There are many souls like that whom we have never met in our entire life. It's time we recognize such selfless beings, who start NGOs on their own to offer support to rape victims or sensitize girls how to defend themselves, fighting against the caste system or the uneducated woman who works as a cook in someone's house whose aim is to educate her daughter in an age where many still believe that the so-called weaker sex has no right to education.

Aditya Tiwari is one young Dad who in my eyes is a superhero and the youngest to adopt a baby suffering from Down syndrome. This is the power of super heroes and they need no introduction. The young man is getting married soon and has taken it upon himself to feed homeless people and children from orphanage, stray animals. Isn't it stuff super heroes are made of?

I am proud of knowing a super heroine. She is my friend. Afflicted with cerebral palsy quadriplegia, Bindiya Farswani is one super duper girl who is flying to conquer the skies. Bindiya is not just an amazing writer but a super creative writer who weaves paintings, walked the ramp in Dubai and has modeled for Femina. I refuse to call souls like Bindiya as handicapped. No! They are not! Uniquely talented and differently-abled people who through their talent are not only making a difference to their own lives but are setting an example by telling the whole world, look at us and not sympathize for we can do things better for we don't sit and wallow. A super duper heroine who beats Superman and Spider man to death,

In an age where news is replete with negativity, prejudice, sexual assault or terror attack, the world needs such super heroes who don't kick ass but believe in spreading goodness, happiness and positivity in life. Be the change. They don't make such men and women anymore. That's why they are super heroes.

Strucking gold: Cycle, Hotel and Family

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Today's theme is:

WOW- ‘Connect the dots between Cycle, Hotel and Family’

Strucking Gold: Cycle, Hotel and Family

Cycle, hotel and family. Three words echoing the reality in the life of Pappu, riding the black cycle, from the slum in Mumbai to the Ritz Hotel in South Mumbai. He started as a cleaner at the tender age of 10 and worked diligently, dedicated himself in the hotel and saved enough money from the baksheesh of the Sahebs to buy himself a second hand cycle. It was his prized possession which he called his 'Black Ambassador. Riding to and fro, braving the sweat and crazy traffic in Mumbai, Pappu's boring life revolves around his cycle, the hotel he calls the second home and the family-Maa, Baba and Munni, his two-year-old sister, who is the apple of his eyes. As he rode the cycle at night fall and early morning, the smile of Munni would miraculously make the tiredness on his face disappear.

It was a usual morning when Munna set on his cycle to Ritz Hotel in Mumbai. He stopped at Marine Drive for a while and sip a cup of steaming hot tea he bought from the vendor, shouting in a coarse voice, 'Chai chai chai..cutting! cutting!' He realized that he reached South Mumbai, earlier than usual by two hours. The time was reset on his modest Reliance handset. Munna was getting bored sitting on the paraphet in the scorching sun. It was 6 a.m. Somehow, he walked on the huge boulders and almost slipped. He fell down and his leg was stuck between the huge rocks. Munna pulled all his might and freed himself. As he was limping his eyes struck upon a shiny object. He looks around to ensure that nobody was watching and tried to pulling the huge boulders. A grey tin suitcase that would have been exhibited as vintage was hiding behind the stack of rocks in ruins. He opened the suitcase and his eyes popped at the bank notes, some crispy and the rest, old notes, ten, 100, thousands. Munna was shit scared at the money that he could have never imagined throughout his life. 

Munna pulled back the suitcase under the boulders and cycled back to The Ritz Hotel and worked diligently till 2 a.m. He cycled back not to home but stopped at Marine Driver, sit for a while and made sure that no eye brows were raised on him. He surveyed the Mumbai Police van where cops stopped for a cup of chai and drove faraway. Not a soul could be seen. The frightened Munna walks on the parapet and quickly slipped beneath the rock. He struggled with the pot of gold that he carried on his cycle and slowly made his way to the slum. As he cycled inside the small lanes in the sleepy slum, he knew that he has just made his life. Munna has big plans for his Munni who will go to a private school. Fate has struck and made his life. He slept peacefully that night for he knows tomorrow will be another day, Cycle, Hotel and Family.