Mainak Dhar - Heroes R Us

The rest of the week turned out to be a blur of nightly missions, and bleary-eyed days at work for Arnab. Conscious of Jayantada's earlier feedback, he made sure he got to work on time and did his work diligently. He managed this balancing act through a combination of catching up on sleep on the bus rides to and from work and by totally neglecting his exam preparations. That Friday evening Arnab sat down at home exhausted and looking forward to a well deserved rest, but before he slept he looked at the newspapers he had collected over the week. He had barely had time to read them through the week and had collected them to read them on the weekend. His nightly adventures had brought forth a hysterical reaction among the press, with every newspaper and news channel covering his exploits and speculating as to his identity. There was a groundswell of popular support and Arnab felt all the pain and effort was worth it when he read the testimonies of many of the people he had saved. The very fact that someone was standing up for those without money and power, those the police would usually ignore, was something that had fast captured the nation's imagination.

Most papers tried to guess who he was, with some claiming that perhaps he had come from another planet and some religious leaders claiming that perhaps he was the result of divine intervention. Arnab chuckled to himself as he read some of the wilder theories, till he came to an article that pointed out that one constant feature was the attire-the grey sweatshirt with the letters G and A on it. The reporter made that the thrust of the article, wondering what those letters could signify. The next day's paper featured an article by the same reporter titled 'Delhi's Guardian Angel strikes again'. The English language media jumped on the bandwagon and in the next day's edition, all the papers were using that name to describe him.

As Arnab lay down on his bed, he reflected on the week gone by. He felt like in those five or six days he had made more of a difference than he had in the rest of his life put together. The mere fact that he was able to use the skills he had picked up to help others made him feel less like a freak and more like someone who was making a positive difference. He had never imagined himself as being destined for anything bigger than eking out a salaried middle-class existence, but now for the first time, he began to dare to dream that perhaps he was destined for bigger things.

As he drifted off to sleep, he also realized that his alter ego was no longer anonymous. He had a name.

A week passed and Arnab found himself getting used to the routine of his new life. Jayantada had no clue what he was up to, the nightly missions continued and the papers were abuzz with news of the 'Guardian Angel'. The police remained quiet on the matter, perhaps because they had no real idea of what was going on. As for Arnab, he had never felt better about himself. A part of his mind recognized that he had virtually no hope of competing in the upcoming examinations, but then another part reminded him that being a low-level government employee could never compare with the thrill of his new life. For the first time, he felt that he did not have to take the 'system' for granted, that he could make a difference, even if on a limited scale.

His only regret was that he was not able to reach out on a broader scale or to those who most needed his help. Scanning the crime pages and relying on the grapevine of Khan and others like him still largely determined his missions. As a result, he did spend the odd night waiting in vain for the criminals to show up, and ending up going home with little to show for his mission other than a night's sleep lost. Also, his missions touched only a tiny portion of the vast swathe of territory that made up Delhi. That was the one criticism many papers levelled against their new hero-if he was indeed endowed with superhuman powers, why did he intervene in only a small fraction of the crime that plagued Delhi, and why did some of the worst crimes go unchallenged? Also Arnab had not yet taken the risk of operating in daylight, so he could do nothing about crimes committed in broad daylight. A couple of papers had reported stories about people getting hurt because they had defied criminals in the hope that their elusive superhero would come to their aid. In his frustration, Arnab wanted to tell them that things weren't that simple in real life-unlike Superman, he couldn't just zip around the skies, taking on missions ranging from saving the planet to rescuing a cat stuck in a tree. True enough, he had some special abilities, but he was not omnipotent or omnipresent.

He had been so caught up in his daily routine that he had almost forgotten the person on whose account he had set out on his first mission of vengeance. So it came as a total surprise when one day he received a phone call from Mishti.

'Hi Arnab, it's been ages since we talked. How have you been?'

'Oh, hi Mishti. I've been busy….with my exam preparations.'

As they talked, Arnab realized that he should have made some effort to stay in touch with her, and also counted himself lucky that she had called on her own. Arnab had feared that he would not know what to say, but when he looked at his watch, he was shocked to realize that they had already chatted for close to half an hour. They had just talked about what they had done all day, and what their plans for the upcoming weekend were. Arnab did realize that Mishti and he came from very different backgrounds, but when they talked, it felt like he was talking to an old friend, not someone he had met only recently. She made him want to open up, made him want to share what was on his mind, made him want to come out of his shell. Nobody had made him feel that way before.

Arnab was beginning to wonder if he would get a chance to talk to Mishti again. That was till Mishti said, 'Arnab, why didn't you call me even once?' Arnab was tongue-tied, not knowing quite what to say, so he was grateful when Mishti put him out of his misery by saying, 'Don't worry, it's not as if I called before today. Let's stay in touch, ok?'

The next day, Arnab kept wondering if he should call Mishti or not and finally decided to do it. His heart in his mouth, he was about to hang up after the first few rings when Mishti's voice greeted him with an effusive 'Hello'. Somehow hearing her made all his nervousness melt away, and to his utter surprise, he found himself chatting freely with her.

The almost daily calls continued, creating a ritual that soon became an integral part of Arnab's day. He would spend the day forgetting the pressures at work, forgetting the aches and pains from the previous night's mission, forgetting any tension about the upcoming mission that night-all of them crumbling before the anticipation of talking to Mishti again.

Arnab couldn't put a word to what he was feeling. Was it just friendship, or was it beginning to become something a bit more than that? Ultimately, when something made you feel so good, did it really matter what name you labelled it with?

A couple of days later, when they were chatting, Mishti had a request for Arnab.

'Arnab, Jayantada's birthday is coming up in three days and I'm surprising him by sending him a gift. I'll courier it in your name and can you please pass it on to him? I don't want him to get it from an anonymous courier guy. Also, I need to travel to Singapore on work for a few days, so it may not be as easy to chat, but I'll SMS, please do the same.'

As he hung up, Arnab's excitement at chatting with Mishti was replaced by something else-an idea on how he could reach out to people who needed his help.

That evening, his mission was to patrol the back alleys of Kailash Colony, where for the past week, a gang of carjackers had been in operation. When he came across the gang, a group of four men trying to force their way into a car at gunpoint, he realized that all the publicity he had got had its fringe benefits. His powers had been exaggerated to a point where they bore little resemblance to reality; for example, it was widely believed that he was bulletproof. That, and the reputation for speed and strength that he had built up meant that the four criminals turned tail and ran the moment he stepped in front of them. What followed was a very short chase and an even shorter fight. As had become almost routine, Arnab found himself dispatching his opponents with ease. However, there was an important difference this time. Instead of zooming off immediately, Arnab searched through the pockets of one of the criminals, and extracted a mobile phone. He quickly took out the SIM card and ran home. Yes, technically it was stealing, but Arnab figured that using the mobile number of such a criminal to help him bring to justice other criminals was poetic justice.