SUPERHERO
An exclusive and patented Man Friday series
Welcome to the wonderful, endearing and sometimes bizarre adventures of Superhero; an incorrigible 12 year old with an unstoppable desire to save the world. Superhero has no special powers, no funky gadgets and has never been bitten by a spider or any other members of the arachnida family. His sole weapon remains his unrelenting persistence to do good and his 'Never say die no matter how many times I am kicked in the face, beaten to a bloody pulp and exasperated by the hopelessness of the system' attitude. There is much speculation as to how Superhero developed this rather naïve predicament. The widely accepted theory is that his parents told him when he was 6 that "One good deed could change the universe" and then were reduced to wasted potheads by the time he was 9 and had no time to tell him the truth about life i.e. "Trying to change anything feels like banging your head into a wall". Without this vital information Superhero has gone through his life to this day clinging on to the belief that he has the 'Power of one'. Superhero is assisted by his close friend
"Sidekick", who though much wiser to the intricacies of life, than Superhero, is in awe of the infectious optimism that emanates from the young protégé. Together they fight crime, barriers to social development and anything else they find worth fighting in their motherland India.
Superhero and the GIMP (Part 1)
Superhero had just returned from another hard day's work of planting mangroves, when he was greeted by a visibly flustered and almost palpitating Sidekick.
Sidekick: (with arms flapping in all directions) Sir, we have a crisis on our hands. It appears that there has been a wave of morally questionable acts performed by some of our country's big stars that has created an unholy ruckus in the nation.
Superhero: (slightly embarrassed) Look Sidekick, that tree was right in the corner and you know how much water I had drunk that day.
Sidekick: Sir, I was not referring to you releasing the undue pressure on your bladder on the side of the road on a crowded street. I was actually referring to the incidents involving Shilpa Shetty and Richard Gere, Aishwarya Rai and Hrithik Roshan and Mandira Bedi and her
sari.
Superhero: Pfffttt….I would hardly call them big stars Sidekick. Well maybe the
sari is quite a star.
Sidekick: That's not really the point, Sir. I was more concerned with what you are going to do about this situation, which has led to the cultural solidity of our nation being brought into doubt.
Superhero: Right. So here's what we do. We make a gun from sticks and chart paper. Load it with oranges and then fire them at the offenders.
Sidekick: I am not so sure that is the right way to go, Sir. You see, a lot of the country's educated public are in fact on the side of the celebrities and feel that they are being treated unfairly by the GIMP.
Superhero: The GIMP? Who the hell is that?
Sidekick: The GIMP, Sir, is a man who people rarely see, but pops his head up at opportune moments to try and conform our society into a way of living which
'he' thinks is in keeping with '
our' culture and values.
Superhero: I am confused sidekick. Who do we shoot? The 'big brother' girl and pals, or the GIMP? Perhaps we should find out which one of them is more vulnerable to oranges.
Sidekick: I am not so sure that shooting anyone is the solution, Sir. I think our prerogative should be to find out the exact intentions of the GIMP in his hostile attack on these incidents.
Superhero: Errr….right. So where do I find this GIMP? Does he live in a dark cave in the jungle or something?
Sidekick: I'm afraid that's wishful thinking, Sir. The GIMP lives very much in the city, in a tall glass building surrounded by a wall of Bullshit.
Superhero: Bullshit?
Sidekick: Did I say Bullshit, Sir? I meant stone. Sorry, my mistake.
Superhero: Ummm…..okay then. Give me the directions to the bullshit…err…I mean building, sidekick.
Sidekick: Get off at 'Fuddy-duddy station". Follow the squealing noise of whining communists. You will soon be greeted by the hustle and bustle of excited press reporters and journalists who are running helter-skelter in a fit of exuberance trying to get the latest on the GIMP's antics so that they can fill their papers with it. Move in the general direction of the reporters and you will see the building.
With not a second wasted, Superhero is off, ready for his confrontation with the mighty man they call the GIMP, no fear in his heart; only the sweet smell of success gracing his nostrils. He follows the directions to a tee, though he is slightly delayed at one point as the press do not seem to know where they are going, but eventually lands up at the gates of "Hypocrisy Manor'. He scales the wall of bullshit….o sorry….stone with consummate ease and makes his way to the main door.
Here, he is greeted by a group of five bleary eyed cross dressers.
CDs (in perfect unison): What do you want?
Superhero: I want to meet the GIMP.
CDs: Hah! The GIMP does not meet kids like you. What's the point? You are not eligible to vote.
Superhero: You do not understand. I am a Superhero and a protector of the people. I need to get to the bottom of all this hype that the GIMP has created.
CDs: The GIMP has already stated its opinions in a circulated and twisted manner through the mass media. Go read it, get confused and then eventually swallow it as a bible truth like the rest of the juntaa. Stop wasting our time.
Superhero: I am not here to swallow any trash that you are feeding me. I want to know exactly why the GIMP feels it is so necessary to keep the public in a state of constant prudishness where we jump at the chance to create a big hullabaloo at the smallest signs of modernity.
CDs: (gather round and murmur something amongst themselves) Kid, you are unnecessarily questioning the integrity of the GIMP and asking for extra information. This is against our nation's ideals of pseudo-democracy. Be gone now, and show not your sacrilegious face at the door of this holy shrine to our values of chastity and patriotism.
The cross dressers surround Superhero and glare at him. Superhero is once again cornered with no foreseeable escape route. At this point our brave hero has a stroke of genius, as is so typical of superheroes in tight spots. He pulls out a peacock feather from his pocket, that he had kept there as a souvenir from his visit to the zoo, and throws it in the direction of a nearby garbage can. He then looked mirthfully at the antagonized cross dressers and said " Isn't the peacock our national bird?". The cross dressers looked at each other, horrified and then ran towards the feather that was gently floating towards the garbage can, intent on saving this piece of national heritage from defamation. Superhero, thrilled to bits at the ingenuity of his trick, seized the opportunity, to run into the building. He ran up the stairs to the top floor where he was greeted by a large door of bullshit…..oh crap…I mean oak. The name on the door said "Mr. GIMP".
Stay tune to find out the details of the meeting with the GIMP in "
Superhero and the GIMP (Part 2) "
Help
he didnt get to see anything that could "arise" his "emotions"........
),n then he claims his sensibilities have been hurt?
the pseudo seculars are even worse .... they sit on the bloddy fence on issues where having an opinion is critical
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