Brinda awoke to Aunt screaming in her face.
“You scored 850? Really? That’s below average. That score is for gardeners and manual labourers. . .I thought you were really smart! I’m wrong then!” Her aunt stopped talking or appearing with her beyond cooking food for her and Tristan.
The measurement is inaccurate! Ask any of my relatives! They know the score should be adjusted to show who I am! Brinda thought.
The hypothesis was instantly disproven. As soon as Brinda shows any sign of talent, someone in the crowd would start muttering and they would stop paying attention.
The most empathy given was by Sandeep, her childhood friend.
“What computer virus?!” Brinda questioned with indignance, “I never was associated with ‘Thinking Reed’! I’m doomed to perform manual labour and run on autopilot.” She visualized herself seizing Archimedes’ lever and bashing it against the Earth and setting the entire universe ablaze to let them know it was a mistake.
“Hakuna Matata. Look at all of these people! Autopilot isn’t all that bad.” Sandeep said, offering Brinda some chocolate cake.
He continued speaking: “Ah, didn’t we all once dream of becoming something great? An astronaut exploring the depths of space, a physicist making a breakthrough, a doctor saving lives. But there are responsibilities, expectations and social norms. I will be satisfied with cooking great food in a restaurant from 9 to 5. Just be happy. And that’s all that matters!”
Sandeep switched on the TV. He criticized the flawed physics behind the cartoon, logic holes and that things are out of ratio.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Brinda had also visited the psychiatrist.
A white-haired scholar flickered on the screen. “I’m Prof. Lobster. What brings you here today?”
Brinda had been a huge fan of Prof. Lobster’s lectures when he was alive and was ecstatic when Prof. Lobster was granted digital longevity. Today, Prof. Lobster has replicated hundreds of times in 20 languages to support billions across the world as a standard psychiatry app. She spoke.
Prof. Lobster reflected and frowned. After a silence lasting for minutes, he replied: “Most sleep disruptions are caused by stress and anxiety. Now how can I say this—In your case, there is a spirit from hyperspace that closely followed you for years. It finds you to be a fascinating individual and has been there since birth.”
Brinda was unhappy to hear the problem blow up beyond the realm of the natural world. She couldn’t prove or disprove it. “So, what can I do about a high-dimensional creature?” She asked.
Prof. Lobster reflected for another few minutes. Brinda noticed her visit free went up significantly.
“You will realize we weren’t gifted with a full understanding of higher dimensional space. We aren’t omniscient, omnibenevolent, omnipresent, or omnipotent.” Prof. Lobster took another long pause as his eyes gazed into the depths of the universe.
“Within this... box, we are still presented with a myriad of choices, where we can choose to shut out the external world with our fantasies, or, think about this: You have a room! A roof! Good food! People who love you! You can choose to let passion fulfill you and you’ll see clearly the opportunities life presents every single day. Sic Parvis Magna. An ancient Chinese saying goes: To change the world, began by cleaning your room!”
Prof. Lobster went on to speak for around 40 minutes, incurring a highly expensive fee.
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Brinda’s aunt was standing before her: “So you think I’m joking?” Aunt asked caustically.
Brinda was already collecting her stuff into a box and she was shoving a pile of papers from the ground. Aunt collected Brinda’s papers on the ground and chucked them out the window.
On a balcony below, academic papers flew toward a guy enjoying his afternoon tea.
On the playground below, the kids frolicked with each other when an assortment of papers buried them.
“Don't expect to come back or get an apology.” Her aunt pushed her out of the door and shut it.