He didn’t have a cape or wore his underwear over his pants. Neither did he have superpowers but very ordinary one.  Nor did he know how to fly or could run at the speed of light.

He wasn’t gifted with super strength to lift heavy cars or metal but yet he was strong to lift the burden of those who mattered. To lift their sorrows and give them his smile.  He didn’t have any specific time of appearance, he worked all day long. But yet he wasn’t acknowledged or had a unique name of fame. As he did all his deeds in silence, without letting anyone know. And for those his deeds became magic of god in their lives.

He didn’t have a mask but yet hidden from the eyes who knew him well. Strange but true. He never needed psychic powers to read minds, as he read what the heart said in the eyes. But who was he?

He was the man, who taught me that being a superhero never required super powers. Confusing, right? As without special powers, you aren’t special enough to be a hero. But he changed my thinking. He said, for being a hero, a superhero, one doesn’t require any special powers but only an ordinary one. Common, but yet very uncommon. All the superheroes the world has seen yet and shall see had it. Though their powers may be different from each other, but this was one thing which made them same to each other. It doesn’t vary, DC OR MARVEL. It was in all of them. So what was this power? I wondered. It was just a word, it was belief.  For as long as we don’t believe in us, then even the greatest power we possess is equal to nothing. However, when we do choose to believe in us, then even the ordinary power becomes, extraordinary.

Wonder, what if superman or batman, or wonder woman didn’t chose to believe in them, would they yet be courageous enough? Or even be what they were to the world?

Belief is an essential power, with it no doubt or fear shall threaten the mind and courage shall make way, till everything is fine. With belief in me, no target shall ever be too big to achieve, as more than skill it takes the belief to make the attempt, to know that, “I CAN DO THIS.”

But again, who was this nameless hero, who silently carried the world surrounding him on his shoulders. Who was he? He was, the man I called my FATHER. He was everything I wanted to be. He was who taught me how to see when it gets dark. He was the who made me believe in me.

He was as beautiful as a snowflake falling from the sky and as calm as the shade of the tree in summers. Yet as strong as the wild west winds.  It is not possible to me, to describe his sacrifice, but all I know is that, even then, he never demanded or complained, but smiled in peace. As for him, this wasn’t a job, he was tied to, but a non-selfish need.

Who was he? He was my father.

(As said, fathers are no less than superheroes, and for me, the only hero I knew was my father. Dedication to all fathers. Who endlessly work but never let any tension touch our minds. Who silently suffer with his troubles but never fails, to release us from our troubles. It’s not father’s day, but gratitude needs no occasion. By this, I would like to thank my father. Fathers whose, nameless little deeds never fails to get magic in our lives but yet remains un-thank. )


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