The Real Superhero...

The Real Superhero...

You meet a lot of people in your life and most people will be forgotten with time. But, some people always have some influence over you even though you've lost the touch with them. Some people just take you back in time to remind you of the lessons you learned from them. Maybe you don't know everything about them, but something about them just tells that he/she is a kind person than he/she appears to be. This post is about one such person whom my parents don't even know about, he's no more but he has inspired me a lot during my childhood.
This is a story of a man, who lived by his own rules,

This is the story of an engineer, who was full of compassion but still lived a lonely life,

This is a story of an introvert, who shared a great bond with kids,

This story is about Uncle Dinesh.

Uncle Dinesh was an engineer and in his late 60's when I first met him. His apartment was a level below mine. I never knew he existed even though I was living in the same place for years. I remember that he loved cricket and he used to watch kids play from the balcony.

I loved cricket back then but still sucked at it! My bowling action was so weak, that the batsman could easily predict the pitch of the ball. He used to observe kids play and had a good time doing that. One day, the batsman hit the ball up in the air and it appeared to go inside his house. I was the only ten-year-old fielder there so I had to go and bring the ball back.

I went there and the door was open. I could hear Sanskrit chants so I just knocked on the door and waited outside. I knew he lived there as I could see him enjoying the cricket from the balcony. After 3-4 minutes, the man came to me smiling with the ball in his hand. He was too skinny for his voice that seemed like one of a hefty man. He had those bifocal spectacles and beard which hadn't been cut in days. He gave me the ball but didn't say anything. I threw the ball to the guys who were waiting for the ball for a long time. They resumed playing cricket before I joined them. And yeah, a 10-year-old is only good as a ball-boy when the adults are playing. On a good day, if the team runs out of batsmen, you get a chance to pick up the bat and bat for the team (I appreciated that though). I would get a chance to bowl if I was playing with my friends. I used to play during the weekends and practice on weekdays at my home. But still, I wasn't the perfect bowler.

A few days later, I saw Uncle Dinesh on my way to school and he asked me to meet him later so that he can tell me something about my bowling action.

That's it!

That's all I wanted as a kid who wanted to be best at the craft! And just like many other 10-year-old cricket lovers would have thought, I thought that it's my first step to represent India on a global level. I went to him with my other friend. He invited us inside while he was eating cream biscuits with milk. His house was the most unusual house I'd ever seen in my life. He lived in an office! More than half of his house was converted into an office. It was a house full of shelves with large files stacked in them. There was a computer on a table with CDs and floppy disks around it. And most of all, he had no television at his home!

But I didn't care much; I was there to get my cricket lessons.

He taught us the correct ways to bowl. He also told me that my pitches lacked speed. Then, he also told me how my friend was a better bowler than me. I shouldn't have taken him with me in the first place. We ended up practicing cricket in the balcony. I thought I was improving under his guidance. I could see myself in that jersey representing India (Just like many other 10-year-olds). And as a reward, he gave us stickers that he got on those cream biscuits he was eating.

Uncle Dinesh was a passionate hard worker. He loved kids but he was less expressive. He didn't take part in the festivals that were being celebrated in society but enjoyed them from the balcony. He worked for this brother who was in a business related to engineering parts. He wasn't married, lived alone, and cooked by himself. I would always see him repairing electric boards and broken furniture on my way back home.

How could a man be so perfect?

He was proud that I was learning Tabla (a musical instrument) and the French language, as he loved classical music and languages himself. Even after he got old and was struggling with his health, he would ask me about my progress in the language.

Little did I know that all this work, loneliness and self-dependence can have its negatives too.

As I grew up, I got busier with my school. Talking about socializing, I became an introvert myself. We could only talk on my way to the school or my way back home.

But still, I enjoyed an amazing bond with him at that point in my life. As I got into college (2016), I left home early and returned late in the evening. Not just me, but everyone in society got busier. There were no cricket matches like before. I stopped playing cricket as I realized that I sucked at it and was thinking of taking it as a career. I picked up new hobbies but never shared it with Uncle Dinesh. The only communication we used to have was a smile if at all we saw each other.

Uncle Dinesh got sick, he wasn't doing the business work anymore. He became forgetful of things and had difficulties in recognizing people. He became skinnier and wasn't taking good care of his health. I couldn't hear the Sanskrit hymns from his house anymore.

The worst part was, all these years of hard work and self-reliance made him refuse all the help he received from the people. The only thing that he used to rely on for walking was his walking stick. One day while leaving for the college, I saw him repairing one of his shelves. We both talked to each other for a while, he seemed happy and weak at the same time. He was still doing all the work on his own.

One day, I got the news from the neighbors that he passed away. I couldn't believe it at first. He was more of an experience for me. All the thoughts, all the teachings that he shared with me are precious. His hard work and relentless nature will always motivate me to work better in life. That man was a life lesson on his own. He was a man who deserved better in every aspect of life; whether it be relationships, health, or wealth.

He might have been arrogant at times when people tried to help him but at the same time, he was true to himself. He always spoke and stood for the truth.

The society has become much quieter over these years. Uncle Dinesh's house is locked now. But still, whenever I look at that the closed door, my mind takes me back in those days where I could hear those hymns, see that computer surrounded by shelves stacked with files, and see the man who lived his life on his terms. He wasn't a human one can talk for a while and call him his friend; He was an experience, an astounding experience. There are no signs of Uncle Dinesh in the society, except for the nameplate on his door.

(Who said there are no superheroes? They are operating around you doing their best to make this world a better place to live. Some might be being kind to people even they do not get the same treatment or some might be giving their best at a job without expecting anything in return. The world is filled with superheroes. You know about mine, who's yours?)