Superhero Diaries Part Deux

Chronicles Of Superrrnickkk

I sit on my roof top facing the cold breeze. My cape fluttering in the air was trying to choke me. As I kept the watch over the western horizon, in my mind I was humming the classic Bollywood track “hawa mein udati jaye”. I tried adjusting it but it was in vain. Finally, I got up, held my cape and sat on it. Being a superhero is not easy. It was never easy for Peter Parker, Bruce Wayne of Clark Kent either. I was sitting on the highest point my building could offer. (Actually the highest point was the water tank but climbing it was a daring feat and the last time’s attempt and half-slip had scared me for life about heights and water tanks. Since then, the inner edge was my safe spot to find crime.)

*facing the camera with a glee and smile*

By the way for those who don’t know me, I am advocate of justice, defender of liberty and the last hope of freedom… I am Superrrnickkk,(longer version of this intro had A self proclamined superhero, a piece of perfection and a masterpiece of pure aura etc but then, you know, crime doesn’t waitthat long or let me finish. So..) and you shall be knowing me from the famous titles (awaiting publications, interested female readers please send me a mail with your full size photos) like “Superrrnickkk and the guards of Jantar Mantar”, “Superrrnickkk and the raiders of paradise apartments” and the erotic crime thriller “Superrrnickkk and busting busty Mrs. Bhatia”.(Parental advisory required). 

I am not your regular superhero. I am Superrrr hero. I was chosen into this life on the night my younger sister was born. (first timers, read this, THE ORIGIN.) Since then, my life had shown me some unbelievable things that you faint hearts can’t survive. Many ordeals with my younger sister, baby sitter whom I was convinced ate little kids for breakfast, my parents, ex-girlfridays, I survived and kept the crime fighting saga alive. But as I watched the sun set, I held in my hand the device, a phone that was forced on to me by my parents to keep a constant track of me. (They just wouldn’t buy the fact that a superrr hero needs to stay off grid.)

Anyways,the main point of writing this blog is to share my experience and not to *chokes, coughs, entering cardiac arrest, recovers* win any cool I pads.*chokes and coughs again. This is a 3 part sequel to the Origins post, Chronicles of Superrrnickkk. So once you have refreshed the first part, enter the world with the eternal fight between good v/s evil. This part is called

Superrrnickkk and the Wrath of Facebook.

3 days ago.

I was sitting in my front porch and surfing Facebook and twitter responding to my fans, trying to keep a check if crime was loitering around while I was home eating butter soaked parathas. Least did I know that the tentacles of the cyber-crime was spreading its veins and spinning its viscious web around me. As I sat there unaware hogging on to the tasty parathas, I got a notification on my facebook account.

A Friend Request.

A friend request that popped my eyes open and made my jaws drop.

My father’s picture was on the profile. As I rubbed my eyes to confirm, I realized that I should have washed my hands and the pickle now in my eyes burnt the crap outta me. I dropped everything and ran blindly towards the bathroom knocking a million things on my way before immersing my head in the water. Feeling better and with water filled eyes, I ran upstairs to find my father sitting there in front of the computer and his Facebook account. He noticed his son staring at him and gleeed up…!!!

 “come beta come, look, I opened an account for myself in Facebook. Did you accept my friend request??” he said it all in a single breath while gesturing me to sit next to him.

 I silently sat while his proud wife joined him to appreciate the marvel of modern day internet and social networking. 
“Open one for me too” she said. I want an account too. Open one for me and send friend request to kids and you also add me. Okay jee??” 
As my mother India went back to her kingdom called "PARANTHA-PIA", I sat there with half of my brain still trying to comprehend my dad’s new presence in my virtual life and the other half trying to decode the strange relationship that my mother and her parathas. 

I gathered courage from the bottom of my heart and asked my dad “Wow dad, Facebook huh??? Cool” as I faked an excited a tone. “How come suddenly??” 
He adjusted his reading glasses and kept stuck his gaze to the screen. NO Reply.

After a minute reading all the possible things that showed up on his wall (including the ads) he turned around a and said, “arey nothing suddenly and all, this time when Sweety (my younger sister, jiska khoon mere haathon se likha hain) had come home for vacations, I was asking her about it, she instead opened an account for me. Now that I had an account I was trying to learn it up. After all I need to keep myself updated na??” He replied with a bone crushing thump on my back. 

I smiled back pretending to be alright. I knew I would survive the thump but I was not sure how long would I survive this “dad-in-facebook-reading-my-wall posts” shock. At times like this mind registers only two things. Fight or flee. And I decided to Flee. As I was getting up, my dad caught hold of me and asked, “Come here, accept my friend request and show me a thing or two about this. What makes you people so crazy over this site??” I tried faking a call from my mother to which my mom from the kitchen responded that she dint call me. 

I logged him out and logged in to “ACCEPT” his “FRIEND REQUEST”. 

The curious doubts of the Benjamin button sitting next to me staring (at the computer screen and my Facebook wall with the same intensity of a sixteen year old who was being introduced to the world of porn) started. “What is this?” he asked pointing at my cover picture “how do you have two photos here??” 

I told him the feature that Facebook had forcefully introduced onto us called timeline and he nodded. “So is it compulsory??” he asked again half in air as if he was asking my permission to ask. “NO, you won’t be asked to pay fine if you don’t put one” I replied. He nodded. “I will. Help me select a nice one.” I was virtually banging my head against the wall. 

“How do I see my friends here?” Benjamin button was indeed very curious and was on roll. “Do you have any friends added?” I retorted back. 
“You are now. Aren’t you? You added me right?” He gave his famous dimpled smiled. 

I nodded before furiously tapping on to the computer keyboard. A few clicks later I looked at him and said “there, I have sent a friend request to Sweety too.”
 As we shared a father-son smile and moment, my cell phone beeped with a text message from Sweety that read “Bitch”. My smile rose. As I gave a brief tutorial to my father on how “Make the most” of his Facebook account, He got a notification popped. Sweety had accepted his friend request. Soon another notification popped. Sweety has poked you. And that was it. 

Curious Mr Benjamin button started his rain of questions again on me. “What is this?  What does poked you mean? Why did sweety poke me? Can I also poke other people? Random people? Can random people also poke me back ? is it like a game? Points?” and so on.

 It rained for the next 15 minutes and while I answered his question each time, he was playing poke game with Sweety. He liked it. I nodded my head. Let him play with his little devil and walked back to my now soggy parathas. As I sat again tired, I got a notification. My father was poking me. I decided to ignore it and focus my attention towards the tasty food in front. 10 minutes later, I heard him call out my name asking me to respond to his poke..!!! *KILL ME NOW*

*Flash Forward* Present day roof top.

Now that my mother also had an account, I get pokes from my creators. In any case the pokes aren’t returned, my parents drop a call to notify me of it. Apparently their notifications require mandatory action of response. Worst part is still not over. Dad is now totally into playing Farmville and cityville and what not. While His wall seems like somebody suffering from an OCD to play games on Facebook all day, mine is now filled with his game notifications and request for nail, plant, plank and what not !!! *headdesk*

Oh wait a minute, it looks like a possible going to be crime scene. Gotta go fellas. Find a nice spot to hide to make a perfect entry. *runs towards the stairs* damn it’s a long way down.. I think I will wait for the elevator.

*ting-the elevator rings*

See you when I see you then..
*gets inside the elevator* and oh yeah.. #Soak No more in fear.. because superrrnickkk is here. (just in case the judges decide to give me the ipad, I don’t want them to DQ my entry cos I dint have the key word)

Till then… superrrnickkk… up up awayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…
*elevator door closes*

P.S : Sorry for the paste eating lunatic level of post, but I think somebody has robbed me of my funny bone.

P.P.S : More dangerous sequels the lists of chronicles of superrrnickkk are on its way. And FYI by dangerous I meant more dangerous in terms of death defying actions and risk with a spine chilling story and not the read quality or experience. So stay tuned. Please.

P.P.S.S : any publishing house interested to make graphic novels for the above mentioned and yet to come awesome titles and series, feel free to contact me. If people can pay to watch Ra.One, I strongly believe my chronicles have a potential. So please think about it..!!


Superman and sipderwoman romancing each other..?? Check out the Superman's armpits for sweat patches 

This post is for the Surf Excel Matic - #SoakNoMorecontest organised by Indiblogger