The sun filtered through the small windows of Tabu's house, scattering golden light across the polished floor. Every morning, the ritual was the same: a quick wash, a neat kurta, and a breakfast eaten beside his mother. Tabu's small fingers carefully held his spoon as he finished the last bite, his eyes already on the tiny television in the corner.
"Today's episode of Saktiman?" his mother asked, smiling.
"Yes! I want to see how he fights bad people and helps everyone," Tabu said eagerly, his little chest puffing up. "I want to be like him when I grow up. Cool, strong… wealthy!"
Wealthy is not because of saktiman it's just he wants to buy any things that he wanted like toys ,candy or even toy and candy shop.
His mother chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "You can be even more than that, Tabu. But remember, Saktiman didn't just appear — he trained, learned, and worked hard. If you want to be like him…" She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if she were sharing a secret. "…you have to try every day. Study to be first in class, practice cricket until you can't miss a shot, and always, always be kind. Never disrespect anyone, never hurt anyone. If you fail, try again. Become better each time. That's the real power."
Tabu's eyes widened. "Every day? Even if I fall?"
"Especially if you fall," his mother said softly, a proud smile on her lips. "Falling isn't weakness. It's a step toward being strong. And Tabu… if you do all this, if you keep your heart clean and your mind sharp… who knows? You might become better than Saktiman himself."
Tabu sat up straighter. His small hands clenched in determination. "Better than Saktiman?" he whispered, as if tasting the words. A quiet fire sparked in his chest. He pictured himself flying through the skies, cape fluttering, helping people, standing tall, handsome, brave. Better than Saktiman — why not?
After breakfast, he carefully packed his little satchel, the corners still stiff from newness, and waved goodbye to his mother. Each day, the walk to Bhadrak Kindergarten felt like a journey toward that dream. He would wash his hands and face, greet his teacher with a bright smile, and sit ready for the lessons and games of the day.
Compared to other children, Tabu was a little clever, a little mature. He noticed small things: the way the sunlight made patterns on the playground, the different expressions on his classmates' faces, how his friends sometimes laughed without reason, or got sad over tiny troubles. He was learning, observing, imagining — storing up wisdom and courage for the big hero he wanted to become.
And now, little did he know, the same school would soon hold someone else — a girl with sunlight in her cheeks and mischief in her eyes. Someone who would challenge him, tease him, and maybe… change the way he saw himself forever.