it's a bird... it's a plane...it's...

incredible as it may seem, i fell in love for the first time when i was 4… to add further incredulity to this statement… i fell in love with superman (blush, hey i was 4).

i would insist on staying up at night, watching the night sky, convinced that superman would appear in a blur of red and blue and take me away (honest).
i was sure that he would eventually forget lois lane and we would live happily together zipping around the galaxies (mild exaggeration here, i admit).

finally, out of sheer frustration, my sleep deprived parents hatched a plot.

one morning, when i woke up i found a small, gaily wrapped package near my pillow. i opened it and found (i don’t know what you call these) a word and number game. the kinds that have lots of plastic alphabets and numbers that you could stick onto a perforated plastic sheet to form words. you can imagine that though i was rather intrigued by the magical appearance of this box, i was not entirely thrilled. so i went up to appa and asked him about this.
appa said, “last night after you fell asleep, superman came looking for you in the verandah”, i gaped at appa, thrilled, “he gave me this package for you and asked me to not wake you up, he also said that he was really busy these days and will not be able to come and see you.”

i looked at the package with devotion and held it tight. then suspicion sneaked in. “how did he know i was asleep if he was standing in the verandah?” i demanded to know.
“arre, he used his x-ray vision na?” appa said without a moment’s hesitation (now i know whose dominant genes i have inherited and why i have turned out like this).
i was convinced.

i have played so much with these little plastic letters and numbers.
i think i owe my entire vocabulary and ease with words to this little fabrication and peppering of reality done by the parents!
so for a very long time, superman it was who was firmly lodged in my heart…
i did not even mind the flashy underwear that he wore.
when i was older and a little better informed, my ardent devotion shifted to christopher reeves. sigh… what a totally bootiliciuos, perfectly edible piece of humanity this man was. for this man… i would break my marriage vows (er… husband… if you are reading this, remember that the man is long deceased… and turn a blind eye to this indiscretion please?).
(isn’t it one of life’s ironies that the man who played the embodiment of strength, courage and perfection should end up paralysed in a wheelchair in the prime of his life?... but then this is stuff of another post).

now at the ripe old age of 30, after a series of not-so-nice-men and some very-nice-but-botched-timing-men, i have come to the conclusion that both santa claus and superman should be allowed their existence… if nothing else, it makes the possibilities of the night sky more interesting and (you must agree) red underwear sure looks good.