Mainak Dhar - Heroes R Us

One of the men whipped out a large knife, circling Arnab, looking for an opportunity to strike. It was dark, and the man seemed to be both orienting his eyes to the darkness and fishing for an opening, but Arnab could see everything clearly and simply stayed well out of the knife's reach. That was when it struck Arnab that his advantage of speed, strength and vision notwithstanding, this was going to be no cakewalk. He was up against someone who clearly knew what he was doing, while he himself had not the foggiest idea of what to do in a fight. He figured that it would be best to play to his strengths and let them make up for his lack of any real fighting skills. The man lunged at Arnab, the knife sweeping up towards Arnab's ribs. Arnab thought back to the fight on the bus and realized that this man was moving much faster than the college ruffian on the bus, but it still seemed to be slow enough for Arnab to move out of the way with ease. After the third abortive attack, the man stumbled in the darkness and fell to the ground. The large man holding the woman started getting restive and screamed out to his friend,

'Stop playing with the fucker and kill him!'

That spurred Arnab's frustrated attacker to strike out with renewed vigour, but two more knife thrusts met empty air as Arnab moved out of the way. Arnab too was getting frustrated, as he realized this had to end somehow. He thought back to his school days, to his sporting icons who had once taken the field for Machester United, and his own half-baked attempts on the playing field. He struck out with his right foot as the man swung the knife again. It was ungainly, and almost caused him to lose his balance and fall. It certainly wouldn't have done him any credit on the Football field, but at the force with which it was delivered, it proved decisive. The man's kneecap popped with an audible crack and he fell to the ground, moaning in pain. Arnab looked on with some horror at the devastation he had caused with just one kick, and then he looked up and realized it was far from over.

The large man had now released the woman, throwing her to the ground and now stood facing Arnab with a grin on his face. Despite what had happened to his friends, his facing Arnab with such confidence would have seemed misplaced had he not produced a revolver from under his coat. For the first time that night, Arnab was truly afraid. He knew he was faster and stronger than the man, but he also knew he could bleed. Dodging a man swinging a knife was one thing, but he was certain that there was no way he could dodge a bullet. The man pointed the revolver straight at Arnab and barked at him,

'Get lost or you die tonight.'

Arnab said nothing but looked straight into the man's eyes. He had come too far to walk away. He would now have to deal with what lay ahead the best he could. The man shouted at Arnab to go away once again, and this time Arnab took a step closer to the man.

The man fired.

Arnab would later reflect back on the moment and remember seeing the bullet coming at him, seeming to travel about as fast as a tennis ball thrown at high speed. But at that moment, all he focused on was somehow getting out of the way of the bullet by diving to his right. When he saw Arnab fall, the man assumed that he had been hit, and moved in to check if Arnab was dead. That proved to be a huge mistake. Arnab saw the man approaching, gun at the ready and lay still waiting for him to come closer. When he judged that the man was close enough, he lashed out with his left hand. The man was shocked at seeing his 'dead' adversary spring to life and stumbled backwards. Arnab's hand connected with the man's stomach in a grazing blow, but that was enough to send the man crashing to the ground. Arnab was soon on top of him and before he delivered the final blow to the man's head, the man looked up at him, asking with bewilderment,

'Who the hell are you? What are you?'

'Just someone who decided that your time was up.'

Arnab brought his fist down on the man's face. Part of him wanted to smash the man's face in with all his strength, but another part of him held back, not yet willing to take a man's life. The man fell unconscious with Arnab's final blow and Arnab got up to take stock of his surroundings. All three men were no longer moving, and a few feet away, the woman was lying on the ground, sobbing. As he took a step towards her, she cringed in fear, and he realized how fearful he must have looked with his hood on in the darkness, and with the violence he had just dealt out. He tried to sound reassuring but spoke way too fast, being psyched up from the action of the last few minutes.

'Please don't worry, I am here to help. Call the police and I'll wait here with you till they come.'

The woman dialled the police with shaking fingers, and then looked up at Arnab,

'Who are you? How did you do what you just did?'

Not knowing what to say or do, Arnab just stood there, feeling very uncomfortable and wishing the cops would arrive soon. When he saw the lights flashing and heard the sirens in the distance, he took one last look at the woman and raced away at high speed. As the woman gaped at him taking off like a rocket, her words followed him into the night,

'Thank you.'

***

Arnab woke up the next morning, his muscles aching from the previous night's adventure. The first thing he did was to check if he could see without his glasses, and to his disappointment, everything seemed a blur. As he put on his glasses, he realized that of all the things he had discovered himself capable of doing; his being able to see without his glasses had perhaps given him the biggest thrill, even more than his strength or speed. He could not remember the last time he had been able to see without his thick glasses, but remembered only too well all the taunts they had earned him in school. One of his friends had once told him, 'You know, Arnab, without those ghastly glasses you actually look pretty handsome. Too bad, the girls never see you like that'. He had meant it by way of encouragement, but it had made Arnab resent the necessary crutches his glasses had become. Alas, it seemed that his ability to see without glasses existed only in the dark, if the previous night's events were anything to go by.

As he dragged himself up and went to work, he kept thinking back to the night's events. A part of his mind was telling him that he shouldn't feel so good about maiming other people; a part of him was even repelled at the thought of such violence. But he realized that both of them were far overshadowed by an overwhelming feeling of exultation, even catharsis. For the first time in his life, he felt that he had done something that had really mattered. He had set out with a vague goal of punishing Mishti's pursuers, but in saving the woman he realized he had achieved much more.

His reverie was brought to a rude end when he met Jayantada at the library.

'Arnab, you are thirty minutes late. I hope you haven't taken to drinking or going to the disco like today's spoilt youth.'

Arnab, who had never tasted alcohol and never been inside a disco, was mortified, and protested that he hadn't. As he spoke, his mind churned out possible excuses, and he settled on one that seemed close enough to the truth.

'Jayantada, I'm not feeling too well. My body aches.'

At lunch time, when Jayantada announced that he was going to get Mishti from the hospital since she was due to be discharged, Arnab asked if he could come along. When he entered Mishti's room, she looked much better than he had last seen her-her wounds seemed to have healed to a large extent, and while her hand was still in a sling, she was smiling and humming some old tune. When she saw Arnab, she scolded him by asking why he had not visited in the last few days.

'Mishti, I thought you needed some rest, that's all.'