Category: I Am

Super/man

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia5 Comments

I was 6 years old when my family and I went to see *Superman: The Movie* in the theatre. I remember the thrill of seeing this larger-than-life hero soaring across the screen, and how I fell in love with this god-like figure who could defy gravity and bring hope to the world. Christopher Reeve, as Superman, wasn’t just a character in a film for me; he became an emblem of everything I thought a man ought to be. As a child growing up without a father, I looked to him as a guide and an inspiration. His portrayal of Superman wasn’t just about the superpowers; it was about the quiet strength, integrity, and unwavering sense of justice that he embodied. To this day, whenever I see a Superman comic, film, or even just a reference, it is Christopher Reeve’s face that comes to mind. He wasn’t just playing Superman—he was Superman to me.

Beyond his iconic role, I kept up with news about Christopher Reeve, and I vividly remember the day I heard about his tragic accident. Learning that he had been thrown from his horse and left paralyzed from the neck down was horrifying. I was heartbroken, but then, as I watched him navigate his new reality, something incredible happened. Instead of succumbing to despair, Christopher Reeve displayed a resilience that was nothing short of superhuman. His determination to continue living, to find purpose, and to advocate for others with spinal cord injuries taught me a new kind of strength—one that was rooted not in physical ability but in an unbreakable spirit. His work in founding the Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation, which funds research for spinal cord injuries and advocates for better care for those affected, was a testament to his enduring heroism. He became a voice for the voiceless, using his platform to push for advancements in medical research that could one day lead to cures. Even from a wheelchair, he continued to be the guide I looked up to, showing me that true power comes from within.

When Christopher Reeve passed away, it felt like a personal loss. The man who had been my hero, a teacher, and a guide was gone, and yet, his legacy was far from over. His story, his struggle, and his unwavering commitment to making the world a better place for others continue to resonate with me. To this day, any news or mention of him affects me deeply, bringing back the memories of the lessons he imparted, both on and off the screen.

So when I saw this trailer, it brought me to tears. It reminded me once again of why Christopher Reeve was, is , and will always be my Superman. The trailer evoked not just memories of the awe I felt as a child but also the deep emotional connection I formed with the man behind the cape. Christopher Reeve showed me that being a hero isn’t about invincibility; it’s about resilience, compassion, and the courage to face unimaginable challenges with grace. His work for those paralyzed, advocating for research and better lives for those affected by spinal cord injuries, is a testament to the enduring impact of his legacy.

Through the Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation, he championed the cause of finding treatments and cures for paralysis. His efforts brought hope to millions, pushing the boundaries of what science could achieve. He worked tirelessly to raise awareness, fund research, and support families affected by spinal cord injuries. His voice, even in the face of his own profound challenges, was a beacon of hope and determination. Christopher’s dedication to this cause was driven by the same values that made his portrayal of Superman so iconic—justice, compassion, and an unyielding belief in the potential for a better future.

I can’t help but feel a profound sense of loss, but also immense gratitude, every time I think of him. His life, his struggles, and his triumphs continue to inspire me, reminding me of the strength that lies within all of us. The trailer brought all of these emotions to the surface, making me long for the chance to see this new film, to once again connect with my hero who has been such a significant part of my life. Whether the film releases in India or I have to find another way to watch it, I know that seeing it will be like reconnecting with an emblem of hope, and once again I will be reminded why Christopher Reeve will always be my Superman.

The trailer of Super/man: The Christopher Reeve Story

Bloodless Bonds

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

My mother’s birthday this year was marked by an unexpected quietude, a dullness that seemed to mirror the heavy skies outside. The entire family fell ill on the 19th of August, succumbing to a cold that my brother-in-law, Ishan had unwittingly brought home. Yet, amidst the joyful chaos of Raksha Bandhan, I scarcely noticed the symptoms creeping in—the slight irritation in the throat, the persistent cough that would soon bind us all in shared discomfort.

The evening brought more than just a physical malaise; it delivered a letter, one that would stir the already murky waters of my mind. It spoke of an interpersonal upheaval, a situation that demanded a careful, measured response. My mother’s birthday, which should have been a day of celebration, was instead consumed by the task of writing a long reply, addressing concerns that cut deeper than the cold we all shared.

As I penned my thoughts, I couldn’t help but reflect on the words of my younger bua. She had always resented the part of me that placed the needs and happiness of those I love above the wants of my family. Her words, often delivered with a mix of frustration and prophecy, echoed in my mind: “Family is all that matters. One day, you will be abandoned by those who are not bound to you by blood.” 

Tonight, in the solitude of reflection, I realize that there are few in my life who share my belief that love, not blood, is what truly binds us. My partner of 24 years is one such person. He made the difficult choice to leave his family in order to live authentically, true to his own sexuality. Despite the distance, he continues to fulfill the demands they place upon him, yet in his heart, he counts me as his immediate and most important family. This bond, forged in love and not in blood, is the bedrock of our lives.

I know that life has a way of testing our convictions, and it may be that the faith I have placed in a few dear souls will, over time, be worn down by the relentless march of circumstances. But even in the face of potential disillusionment, I hold fast to the belief that love transcends the ties of kinship. My own father, the one who should have been a natural ally by virtue of blood, was the greatest contradiction to this notion. His hatred toward me, and my subsequent indifference toward him, stands as a testament to the fallacy that blood alone can sustain a relationship.

In the end, all I can do is remain true to my own belief system. Even if the road is fraught with missteps and misplaced trust, I would rather walk it with the hope that love, in all its forms, is the truest foundation for any relationship.

Only Time

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

Who can say where the road goes? Where the day flows? Only time.  

And who can say if your love grows as your heart chose? Only time.

I switched on Enya as my mind needed to stop its whirlwind, and this was the first song that played. These are the first lines that were sung to me.

I’ve had a tough week. Sunday was chaos, with an old relationship breaking down. It’s a trying time when you see all that you built over decades diminish in a few minutes.

Depression set in around that time. And the week has not been kind. I had a small accident with my new car. Then I had a revelation with a partner that made me realise that everything changes with time.

Irrespective of what Shakespeare said about the alteration of love, I know that there are graver and more terrible things out there: the crashing of identity, the mislabelling of gender, the murders in the name of love, and the genocide in the name of religion. But I guess every moment in time has its devastation.

We paint a kinder picture of our childhood, but I know that I had terrible trauma in those years too. They made me who I am today. This Blanche Dubois who wishes to be the modern-day Stella but fails—all the time.

Those lanterns I keep putting on the harsh bulbs of life keep burning up. And any moth, that comes close, burns. Like I burn—irrespective of all the light around me.

I am caught up in this pain that seems to abate and make me think that it’s over. But something happens with the people that I count on and it all comes crashing around me.

Saurabh came to meet me after two years. He came up to me as I went to greet him at the door. He said, “Oh my god, you look so good. You look lovely.” And I burst into tears. I couldn’t stop crying. I wept for minutes in his arms.

I suppose it’s a build-up of pain and fury at the world around me. I try to overcome this weight of being needed and wanted. This weight where I find myself comparing my character, my body, my passion, my ability, my longing to the ones around me. The weight of finding myself short in every aspect because I see myself through other people’s eyes.

I’m not macho enough. I’m not handsome enough. I’m not intelligent enough. I am not kind enough. I am not capable enough. It goes on and on—these thoughts that harass my mind and create this incredible surge of helplessness.

I can’t bear to show this. I can’t bear to keep this hidden. Then there is the ridicule of the tears. Will I be judged for them? Aren’t men not supposed to weep? Rowling would say it’s not man enough, I suppose. My tears as a man wouldn’t be real for her. Would they? But then who even is she to me in the larger scheme of things? But won’t my mother count in this scheme? My best friend? My lover?

Then Saurabh comes in. He lashes out at every insecurity and sees me. I weep.