Daredevil: Musthafa

Every now and then, a story comes along that is so deceptively simple, yet so profoundly deep, that it sticks with you for a lifetime. For those who grew up in Karnataka in the 90s and 2000s, Poornachandra Tejaswi’s short story Daredevil Musthafa is exactly that kind of legend. It’s a story that many of us first read as a mandatory text in school, but it never felt like homework. It felt like a campfire tale—hilarious, thrilling, and heartbreaking all at once.

But Tejaswi, a master of nuance, doesn’t leave us there. He takes this premise and turns it into a glorious, slow-burn demolition of every stereotype the boys (and perhaps the reader) hold dear. Daredevil Musthafa

Daredevil Musthafa is not just a story about communal harmony. It is a story about growing up . It is about the moment we realize that the monsters we create in our minds are just people, with their own strengths, fears, and kindness. Every now and then, a story comes along

At its surface, Daredevil Musthafa is a laugh-out-loud comedy about a group of Hindu boys in a small village who are terrified of their new Muslim classmate. The narrator, a mischievous schoolboy, describes Musthafa with a blend of awe and bigoted hysteria: he has a “handlebar mustache,” he “looks like a Pathan,” and he is, without a doubt, a dangerous man. The boys’ prejudices are fueled by second-hand stories, communal fears, and the innocent cruelty of childhood ignorance. It felt like a campfire tale—hilarious, thrilling, and