The gate closed with a clank. I looked at the back of the shiny coated Hyundai Santro. It looked nice. From the back of the vehicle, i could see a little head bob out. Then i saw a tiny hand wave at me. It was the kid from building number 3. The kids revered me. It was kind of phenomenon, that even educated people did not understand. Till the kids boarded the kindergarten bus they behaved differently. Once they got into the primary school bus, things were different. This kid boarded the kindergarten bus and to him I was Watchman Chacha. The superhero watchman who carried a pistol and who protects the little ones from bandits and ghosts (I never had a pistol, but they had an imagination, and i got caught up in it). I liked it. I had been a watchman for 25 years and little things like this kept me motivated. Everyone wants to be a superhero. I already was. My children had also climbed the primary bus, high school bus, college bus and finally the work bus. They were all happily settled. My partner, my heroine had passed away 2 years ago. To a deadly epidemic which doctors called a name I could not pronounce. I continued fighting crime alone, it was difficult, but i had to go on.. The children expected that from me.