Mom looks back at the 1980s and says that those were the best days for us. And I tell her - hey mom, these are the best days for us, two successful children, a relaxed retired life, good health... this would be a life that many long to live.

But I know what she means. The 80s were very different times. Us living in a lovely Cochin suburb, great friends who were just a shout away, frequent get-togethers, family outings, cousins, uncles, aunts.. I look back at my childhood with a sense of wonder, fully aware that the comfort of today would never equal the comfort of the 80s.

Those were the times when cars still were novel things on the road. With only a handful of cars in vogue then, having a car was something great, something proud and something you definitely boasted about in school.

We got our first car during the 80s. I still remember it, a shiny white Premier Padmini (registration number? yup, remember that too - KEF 4167).

Driving schools weren't what they are now. If you had a car, then the driving instructor would come home, take you out for a daily spin in your car, make absolutely sure that you indeed had a good hang of driving, and then he would get your licence issued. Father's driving instructor was a chap called Vijayan.

On public holidays, all of us family would bundle ourselves into the car, ready for long a drive. With father and Vijayan uncle in front (Vijayan uncle making father do all the usual stuff that driving instructors made students do: driving slow, driving very slow, changing gears, speeding up, stopping on a slope, driving in traffic, and all that jazz) and mom & us kids in the back, we did a lot many long-drives in the car.

Those days, Sundays used to be sacred. Why? Because newspapers had a large comics page. And there was Mickey Mouse on TV in the morning, Mahabharata in the mid-morning, a regional movie in the afternoon, and then came the magic time at 5:00. Why? Because that was when the rest of the world simply faded away into a black hole and there was only Doordarshan where a beautiful voice announced: Rasna prasthuth kartha hai, Spiderman...

Spiderman was awesome! Swinging from skyscraper to skyscraper in a dashing red & blue outfit bashing up the bad-guys, he was the tops.

Spiderman, Spiderman!

Does whatever a spider can!

Spins a web, any size

Catches thieves, just like flies!

Look out! Here comes the Spiderman!!

That was how the show opened. On our way back home from school, we would sing the Spiderman song in the school bus arguing over who got the lyrics right.

Anyways, I'll cut a long story short.

Vijayan uncle came home that Sunday morning as usual. We sat and joked for a while (it was a mighty cool thing for a nine-year old kid to joke with a grown-up). I told him about school, about games, about our neighbour's dog that hated me. All of us had our breakfast, and we left in our car on yet another long drive. Cruising on the city roads, bouncing over the village roads, stopping for tea/ snacks or an occasional rest-room break. I do not remember much of that trip except that we had driven to Trichur and had visited the Peechi dam there (still remember the steep water flow). And at sometime around 3:00, we decided to start for home.

A drive from Trichur to Cochin is really long, especially for a student driver. You were on a national highway after all (NH #47), and with one's entire family sitting in the car, father must've had his own private share of worries whenever a speeding truck passed by, kicking up hot dust in its wake. But for me sitting in the backseat, there was only one thought: will we reach home in time for Spiderman?

Oh sure, Vijayan uncle smiled from the front seat. It is a short drive, we would be reaching home pretty soon.

Okay, I was assured for a while. We would reach home in time for Spiderman. Vijayan uncle is a man who knows these roads like the back of his hand.

Minutes ticked by and there was no sign of the familiar roads which indicated that home was close-by.

- Amma, what time is it?

- Four ten.

- Are we there yet? Are we close to home?

- Oh, we're getting there soon. Wow, look at that big shop! Look at all those things they have got inside. Look, look, that is such a big burly guard..

- Amma, will I get to see Spiderman?

- Oh sure! Why not? We're travelling in a car after all, and we're driving real fast. Look at that big church! Just look how big it is...

Mom was giving me confusing signals. Was there something daal-mei-kaala here? Would we be reaching home in time for Spiderman? I was not so sure.

- Papa, where are we?

- Hmmm? We are in the car... (father gave pretty accurate answers)

- No, not that. Where exactly are we?

 - We're exactly in the car - you're in the back-seat and I'm in the front seat. Ha ha ha..

- No, no, not that! What place have we reached?

- We're at Aluva. Aluva is one of the major districts in Cochin. You know, a little far from here is a place called Kaladi where there is a famous Shankaracharya temple...

But I wasn't interested in details. There was something wrong here. Would I catch the Spiderman show that day? I sure hoped so. I wanted to. Badly. Very badly. I hadn't missed a single Spiderman episode before. I didn't want this to be the first one. I tossed in prayers at all the places of worship that passed us by. Oh God, please... Spiderman...

“I'm praying to God so that we reach home soon so that I could see Spiderman", I told Mom conscientiously. Mom was the one who taught me to pray, she maintained that nothing was impossible through prayer (still does). I was reaching out directly to God, the most powerful superhero in the universe.

But God chose to keep a masterful silence. There was silence in the car, there was silence from God, there was silence everywhere. There was so much silence that I could hear the hum of the tires as they rolled on the road.

My panic grows. I'm on the verge of tears. For some reason, there is this unknown certainty that is fast establishing itself within me - I was going to miss my Spiderman that day. What do I do? Say a hundred Hail Marys? Or sing all the hymns that they taught us at school? May be I'll stop eating chocolates for a week, or a month, or a year. If only we would reach home quick! There was Spiderman on the TV at five.

I ask mom point blank: "Amma, will I be able to watch Spiderman today?"

Mom pauses slightly, as if organising her thoughts. Then she looks at me and says, "sure, just think of it. You like Spiderman so much. Do you think Spiderman would want you to miss his show today? Of course he'll wait for you."

Nervous jubilation within me. We drive in silence for a while. Of course Spiderman would wait for me. After all, it was my mother who said that to me, right? She’s a wise lady. Wow, my superhero was going to wait for me. Spiderman, after all. Defender of the good. That was why he was a super-hero. But somewhere again, a nervous pang of doubt.

- You’re sure we’ll reach in time for Spiderman?

- Sure, what’s even the doubt about that?

I caught my father looking at me in the rear-view mirror. Drive papa, drive! I sure didn’t want to keep Spiderman waiting.

The clock moved fast but distance moved slow.

- Vijayan uncle, what time is it?

- Hmmm… It is around four-fifty right now.

- Can you take over from Papa and drive the car any faster?

- Ummmm...

Vijayan uncle gets busy looking at something outside the window and does not give me any reply.

I must've chewed my parents' brains that day asking them what time it was or where we'd reached.

And finally we were home. Our wrought iron gates swung inside as the car passed, but I was out like a shot. I unlocked the door and switched on the TV. Spiderman was my hero, Spiderman was going to wait until I came to see him that day. The great Spiderman. My Spiderman.

Sure enough, I could hear the theme song already (those days, we had a Nikki Tasha television set, and the sound came on a few seconds before the image loaded up). In the chill of the night, at the scene of the crime.. Like a streak of light, he arrives just in time! Spider man, Spiderman… Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman… Mom was right! Spiderman kept his word! My hero! My hero!

And then, the image loaded up.

Words would fail me if I attempt to describe the scene. The image was of a Spiderman-web against a splendid night-view of the city as the back-drop, and the credits being displayed one after the other. In other words, the closing sequence.

We were late! Spiderman show was over! Quiet mayhem in my mind.

But I'd prayed so much.. But mom had said that Spiderman would wait.. But Spiderman was my hero.. But we had travelled so fast.. A million different 'buts' flashed across my mind. I did the only thing that seemed appropriate then - I open my mouth and bawled. I bawled for a long time, sitting in front of the television set staring stupidly at it. Bawled while having the evening milk & cookies, bawled while packing my school bag for the next day, bawled while having bath.

And somewhere later in the night, amidst hot tears, the ridiculousness of the situation quietly unfolded in my mind. After all, the cartoon was beamed by Doordarshan, how could they probably delay the serial for one kid living in a Cochin suburb? I was stupid to have believed it. And mother and father, telling me make-believe stories just to keep me placated. Another round of bawling. That night I must have cried as if some loved one had passed away.

A lot of time has passed since that incident. But the memory still remains, with a bittersweet tinge that only childhood memories can provide. This is an incident that I often recollect, and try to analyse with a coldness only age brings with itself. A stupid nine year old kid, wishing hard to see his favorite cartoon. I guess in those days, few things meant so much as catching up on one's favorite cartoon on TV (as compared to the million odds and ends that we continuously juggle as we fill in multiple roles at work).

Something within me broke that day. Something sacred, something precious, something that a little nine year old never thought could break. Looking back, I wonder what it was that really made me upset the most - the fact that my parents had made up a cock-and-bull story about Spiderman waiting for me to come home, or the fact that I believed in them and expected him to be there. Whatever it was, I still haven't really understood it. I guess for a comic-crazy nine year old, it was something like a first lesson that life was not always hunky-dory. That hopes could be dashed. That heroes would disappoint. That life did not always have the hero flying into the sunset while a majestic THE END floated on the screen.

For some reason, ever since, I haven't seen a single Spiderman cartoon.

"With great powers comes great responsibility."

- Uncle Ben to Peter Parker, "Spiderman #1 (film)"

"Is he strong?

Listen bud, he’s got radioactive blood!

Can he swing from a thread?

Take a look, overhead!

Hey there! There goes the Spiderman.."

-          Excerpt from the Spiderman Theme Song

(with lines like that, I guess it was small wonder that us nine-year olds adored him)