The Self-Made Superstar

His biceps twitched at the sight of the sidekicks who blocked his way.

The fiery glare out from his eyes made them tremble with fear.  

He took long strides to meet the evil don. 

Aloof about what lay ahead, bearing the guts and bravery of the iron will, he walked in the door. 

Facing the wall, seated on a tall leather chair was the evil don, who left the world in tears. The blood curdled screams of the lives lost battling the don filled his ears. 

As he was expecting, the don swiveled the chair and faced him. On his laps were his pet iguana, whose eyes resembled the blood shot merciless eyes of the don himself. The evil grin matched with the god of death himself.

Now they were face to face. 

The good versus the bad.

The hero versus the villain. 

As a master of Tai-pu, our man challenged the don for a bout after a swift exchange of dialogues.

It was the war of the worlds. If it happened in the Vedic era, even the gods and asuras who came to see the fight would let out a shriek of agony on seeing the plight they underwent.

A kick on to the groins and the don was floored. A sudden reflex and he came back on to his feet.

The fighters were moving from the don’s boardroom and the 101st floor atrium balcony of the Imperial Towers in Kazhakootam was witnessing a terrible fight.

He, the master of Tai-pu, took out his signature move and again the don fell to his feet. Hoisted by his hands, the don pushed up and delivered a nasty ghastly blow on to his opponent’s chest. He fell off balance and was dangling down the balcony.

With a grim smile, the don lifted his leg to stamp on his fingers that suspended the whole of his body.

A momentary flash later, he heaved up to catch hold of the don’s leg and at the same time, the stamp came to his other hand. And there they were falling off the heights of the tower.

Chances of survival- absolute zero.

A resounding thud and he opened his eyes. The back of his head was throbbing with pain. He sat up on the floor of his hostel dorm, rubbing his head. He sat there with a smile.

The superstar had just woken up from his yet another super hero dream! To many of those Jr. NTR movies, I suppose.

The don was lying on the opposite bed, saliva drooling out on to form a dried-up puddle mark on his bed sheet. And he was sleeping peacefully. The iguana shaped pen holder was smiling at him from the ‘don’s bedside table.