What made him a hero? His techy self-protective attire that provided the needed anonymity and multi-million dollar equipment that sustained his awareness of the goings on in a city of rogues? The gliding properties of his uniform and his formidable physical prowess that dented the most threatening of rifles?

It is believed that his inner demons were the things that drove him into the streets and dark alleys in search of justice for those he perceived to be oppressed. The demons that taunted him within brought the very pain that propelled him into a righteous anger at the evil plaguing the city called Gotham.

He was a hero to many. People were more than happy for him to flout the county laws in order to clean the streets of Gotham from the heinous behaviours of criminal offenders. People never quite knew what exactly he was, let alone who he was. But his cause promoted him into a position of honour in public eye.

Until the archenemy, the Joker man, started killing people in pursuit of him.

Overnight, when it was their turn to lose their lives for the hero they loved, Batman became a villain. Joker wasn't wrong when he told Batman, "Don't talk about them [the public] as if you're one of them. To them, you're just a freak, like me."

Who knew better the state of the human heart?

Those seeking to be heroes because they think they can make the world a better place, or because they have unquenched anger within, or because they believe that humanity is fundamentally good and grateful for good things, are eventually bound to find themselves in a state of deep sadness; profound disappointment in what they thought to be a good human race.

Within everyone of us, there is a Joker. And that was what the Joker sought to prove. He wasn't after wealth. He was out to demonstrate this philosophy: "I'm horrid. But you're no better. The only difference is, I'm not pretending."