The number kept rising day by day. Now I had to get rid of more of them than before and I tried each and every way but it never worked. The strange fondness with them increased time to time. They enjoyed disturbing me, and I enjoyed perishing them.

My mind mingled with loads of thoughts. “Who are they? What do they want? I think my room has been cursed by some phantom.” Whatever it was, I struggled a lot to solve the mystery but failed every time.

One fine morning, I was amazed to find out that they were in my wardrobe too. I had to clean up my cloths before wearing them every time. And each dress had almost half a dozen insects inside. “Oh God please help. What is it? Why is it? First the room, then the wardrobe, the cloths, books and now shoes too?”

Finally, I thought it was time to clean up the entire wardrobe and the closet too. The first thing that came to my mind; if the insects are in my closet, then they must have also attacked that precious pack of roasted pistachios which I had hidden in order to eat them all alone. But then I thought, the insects couldn’t possibly eat them since the plastic pack was sealed and they couldn’t eat 2 kilos of pistachios at any cost. I tried to comfort myself with that thought.

When I opened that secret section of the closet, I couldn’t believe my eyes; the packet was unsealed and full of holes all over it. The insects were there too. I thought not to waste the pistachios, let’s get the insects out and eat the untouched ones, if there were any. But I was even more stunned to see that the origin of insects was from no other place but the pistachio pack. I had been preserving it for the last 8 months but the time made them rot and thus causing the birth of those insects.

The mystery was solved; I was happy as well as sad. Sad because I lost my favourite pistachio pack and happy because I had no more insects in my room and I didn’t have to ramble hither and thither to hunt them down.

But the thing thought me a lesson, “Avarice is a big vice”. Share whatever you have and be wise.

It had indeed been a long night… he had had to deal with three petty criminals, the youngest of which had been particular hard to catch. He had chased him through what seemed a mile of roofs, over a bridge and down the rat infested sewer system for about three or four hours before he had come to a dead-end where he finally gave out from exhaustion and dehydration. Otherwise, he would have gotten away. Some nights, being a hero is not the most fulfilling thing in the world.

When he started out, many years ago, he used to match wits, resources and techniques with colorful and somewhat caricaturist “arch-enemies” who always kept him on his toes and pushed him to be the best he could be. Now, there was no color anymore. He was reduced to chasing faceless, nameless thieves who had broken the window of a car to steal a radio or stole a couple of flowerpots from someone’s backyard to trade them for a quick fix. There was no glamour anymore, and these kids today had become more dangerous and savvy… now, even the youngest ones carried heavy guns. And tonight, as a bullet barely scratched the skin of his arm, he had been reminded once again that they were not afraid to use them… As he finally pulled into his driveway and tiredly climbed out of his car, he gazed upon his blood stained uniform… “Who would have thought that even heroes have a right to bleed”.

“It’s all for the greater good… this city is safer tonight because of me”… he repeated almost mechanically the same mantra that has kept him going for years as he picked up yesterday’s copy of the Gazette with a picture of Commissioner Gordon receiving yet another award on the front page. In the last few years, the crime rate had dropped substantially, mostly because of his late night escapades. However, the Commissioner and the Police department always took the credit, and the rewards… and the awards and prizes. He often told himself he had no right to be bothered by that, after all that was the original agreement: He would work behind the scenes while letting Gordon take the spotlight.

“Making a safer city for children to sleep in is my only reward” were words that had often come out of his mouth but not from his heart. In truth, he would have liked to receive more than just a pat in the back once in a while… maybe the occasional reward or prize would have been most welcomed… but he knew that no matter how much he wanted it, it was not going to happen anytime soon… but even heroes have a right dream.

Years ago, when he started out in this hero business, he thought that he could make a difference by catching one criminal at a time… but now he often wonders if maybe he was a bit too idealistic… and sometimes he can’t really avoid feeling that people don’t really care anymore… that people have just taken from granted that he will always be there to save the day… and that a simple “thank you” would suffice… well, sometimes words are not enough… is it so wrong for heroes to be human after all?

“Maybe, at least, I’ll impress some girls”… he had said jokingly the first time he had put his hero suit on, but that never really happened… and the only girl he had ever wanted to impress had gone out and marry the Commissioner of all people… and now he was dead to her eyes, so he tried not to think about her anymore by concentrating all of his efforts in doing the only thing he knew how to do… chasing down dirty and ruthless men through the empty streets of a polluted city…

“I’m getting too old for this” he sighed as he climbed into bed a quick shuteye to regain strength…
Then… a bright orange light awoke him… painted upon the early morning sky was the distinct silhouette of the bat-signal… he stared at it for a few seconds…

“Blah… let Robin save the day for once”… and rolled over and went right back to sleep…