《Was I Wrong to Share My Superpowers? [Urban Drama]》


 Ch-1: Oct-1

    It was the third time my alarm clock had rung and shut up after playing some upbeat R&B song it had randomly chosen this morning. It usually does a good job of shocking me out of my bits but its failure today was not a very promising addition to its reputation. The alarm was no longer as alarming as it was supposed to be.


    I had an unusual sort of night. I didn¡¯t sleep a wink and yet, here I was, wide awake as a squirrel overdosing on caffeine, ready to go skirmish for the upcoming storms and winter.


    I wasn¡¯t however calm.


    If my pounding heart was any indication, my body was either running low on potassium or there was something very wrong with me.


    I had lain down all night in my bed out of some bad sense of ritual foreboding, lying to myself that sleep was only a blink away. I had countless thoughts during this time; thoughts about god, fate, about destiny. Yet, like a cat, their answers had eluded me. It had dangled a fluffy tail of hope in front of my face. Put forward an inviting paw of friendship. Before sneering at me through her charming eyes, it had sprung up to her feet and dashed away into the tall foreign shades of uncertainty.


    My mind was an ocean of thoughts, but the reality was darker and disconcerting. I could hear ghostly footsteps rummaging around in the lobby beyond the protective barrier of my door. The strides were short and heavy, their pace frantic yet calm. They clearly belonged to my mother. No doubt, she was a couple of minutes away from knocking down the front door of my castle.


    Then the clock started laughing at my tardiness again. Procrastinate, as much as I wanted, I had to get up this time. What choice did I have? I couldn¡¯t be late for school. I was happier facing the troubles of my school days than being under the piercing eyes of my mother all day long.


    Usually, getting up early in the morning has a sense of ritual associated with it. You push or shove away your blanket. Get up moaning and groaning through the dull aches of your rigid skeleton and frigid muscles. Then drag your feet over the cold and dirty floor until you find your slippers, before giving out yet another yawn, announcing an impassionate and incongruous greeting to the world.


    ¡®Usually¡¯ I say because there were butterflies in my stomach when I got up that day. Neither my muscles nor the grim between my toes had any impact on my intentions and will. There was a sense of unease in the air ---- a premonition of a change. It had me on my toes, energized, though anxious.


    Incredibly, I almost looked forward to the day! How nauseating.


    The moment I opened the door, a plume of scented incense smoke rushed into my room on a quest to drive away any demons hiding in the corners. Not quite earthy or fruity, I could never get used to the smell.


    In a race with the smoke were the reverberating chants of my father¡¯s devout prayers. I had uncertain feelings about his prayers to the almighty jester who watched the world with closed eyes.


    I was a believer once. I used to pray every night for world peace before going to sleep. Hoping my tiny interception would awaken the cold forges of the almighty and force some form of warm empathy out of them. Then I woke up and realized the hands of fate were on a fixed and unquestionable path. And no amount of praying had the power to sway them away from their incredible instinct to control everything.


    I do believe in a form of God; a form in which God is a higher dimensional being trying to understand human fate and we are its homegrown bacteria on a Petri dish.


    Out of the room, my first sight was of my father sitting cross-legged on the mat on the other side of the room. Beyond him, two impatiently anxious threads of grey smoke rose toward the ceiling from the scented incense burning in front of the pictures of God Shiva and Devi Parvati.


    On any other day, I would have wanted to grab my father¡¯s shoulders and shake him up in hopes of waking him from his false religious stupor. Tell him to stop wasting his time and get on with his life. That he would live a healthier and longer life if he spent his time jogging in the morning instead.


    Today, I was too distracted with my thoughts to try to get under his skin.


    I was on my way to the bathroom when I crossed paths with my mother in the lobby. Puffy eyes, puckered lips, and drooping cheeks. She looked at me and made a face that people make when they have something horrible brewing inside their stomach but they hold it back just because they don¡¯t want to bother themselves with your shit.


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    No greetings between us--


    I didn¡¯t want to jinx my luck either and hurried out of her sight toward the bathroom.


    That sense of unease in my gut was now a choking irregularity I was coming to realize. It was not as much a stifling pain as it was a reminder of something unprecedented; like having your bladder full but without the associated pain, or sitting on the toilet for so long that your legs go numb but you don¡¯t have a release.


    I walked through the bathroom door and closed it behind me. Thankfully, my younger brother wasn¡¯t home today. Otherwise, it would have been a hassle to get him to leave the bathroom. He likes to take his sweet time in there. Then his mother would yell at me for yelling at him. His I said, because our mother has a favorite son and it¡¯s not me.


    I checked the door again to see if the lock was holding (because it tended to come open at the lightest push sometimes) and then walked deeper inside. I took a leak even though I wasn¡¯t sure I had fluids to drain. Then everything came to a standstill when I saw my face reflected in the mirror above the sink while washing my hands.


    Nothing had changed. I looked the same as every day. I wasn¡¯t a handsome guy, but I surely wasn¡¯t as crocked and unsightly as my fellow narcissist classmates had made me believe. Besides my slightly wider nose, rough dark skin, mismatched ears, dry lips, conjoined eyebrows that shared a deeper connection than I did with anyone, hair that needed grooming, and a beard that grew up in patches as if the workers were on a strike. I looked normal. I mean as normal as any budding teenager looked in the 80¡¯s.


    I guess that was the problem. I was born 40 years too late in a world that was too strange for me to understand.


    My only respite was that I wasn¡¯t fat or skinny on top of everything else.


    However unsightly the figure in the mirror looked, it was me. I was familiar with it. The familiarity allowed me a momentary pause from the fulfillment and anxiousness I had been feeling since last night.


    It also reminded me of how much I hated myself.


    This face of mine had put me through a lot more hardship than everything else combined. Middle school kids are ruthless. Especially when you are alone and they are together. They don¡¯t hold back anything. For a time it had felt like the whole world made fun of me. How I can still hold a smile is beyond me.


    I couldn¡¯t even fight back then. One, I was too kind; I still am. Two, I am too prideful for my own goddamn sake. Fighting back meant I was the same as my bullies. Complaining meant I was a loser. Getting angry meant they were right.


    So I cried through my early days. Pushing away anyone and everyone who ever so much as looked at me wrong. Until there was no one left in my life.


    ¡®If only I didn¡¯t look like I do. If only I looked¡­ normal. What I wouldn¡¯t give if I could change myself and be whoever I want to be.¡¯


    I don¡¯t usually have such thoughts. It was the fullness and the anxiety brewing inside me that was pushing the words out of me. Reminding me of things, I didn¡¯t want to remember.


    High school isn¡¯t as tough as it¡¯s all said to be, but then again we humans aren¡¯t cut to live alone like animals in the wild. We are social creatures and it fucking hurts to see everyone else talking and laughing together while you mope all day at your desk without anyone to comfort you in your despair.


    Suddenly, the fullness came back with vengeance. Before I knew it, my head was buzzing and everything in my sight was shaking, like the world was going to crumble into pieces and bury me six feet underground.


    I was starting to realize that the fullness was more than just a feeling or a delusion. It was real and it was starting to act up. And that it had nothing to do with my bladder, of course.


    Unable to hold myself up through the insinuating headache, I fumbled to hold the sink''s outer lip and lowered myself to the ground. The headache was awful, but I didn¡¯t want to injure myself in the bathroom since the door was locked.


    I hung over the sink like a wet rag. Making sure, my head stays over so I don¡¯t end up vomiting all over myself, or all over the floor and have my mother chew my ears out later.


    Then before I knew it, the headache started subsiding as quickly as it had started. The world also gradually started coming back to order. The bathroom walls stopped spinning, and my ears stopped ringing.


    As I breathed through the last particles of piss and toilet I had just flushed down the drain, I found myself in the face with a different sort of tribulation. One that made me question my sanity.


    I suddenly heard a ding sound -- the kind that those bronze bells at the front counter of hotels in thriller movies make. Then burning words came into existence in front of my eyes, hovering a few inches from my face.


    I mean, I must have been feeling dizzy or something because I didn¡¯t scream like a scream queen getting murdered in the back alley. Even though I hated doing things I was forced into, I read the message from top to bottom without missing a word. It surely felt like a pamphlet printed by some shady company to scam unsuspecting morons.


    [The Daily Superpower system has heard your wish!]


    [Disguise is an excellent first superpower to break free from the norm of daily life and be whoever you want to be, or simply be the best version of yourself. A well-created Disguise cannot only let you enjoy the world in its rawest form but also let you avoid trouble with the authorities by keeping them from finding your real identity.]


    [Task level: E]


    [ Punch your bathroom mirror and break your previous self into pieces.]


    [Would you like to accept the task to acquire the ability? Yes/No]

 Ch-1.2: Oct-1-Disguise

    At first, I couldn¡¯t understand, much less believe, how precious an opportunity I had come across.


    Then a shiver jolted me out of my stupor and I realized I was either hallucinating or--


    FUCK! Was the only courteous response I could muster in the situation. Followed by the usual trio, no way, I must be seeing things, and is this thing real?


    It was real: both the opportunity and the absurdity of it falling upon my head.


    I mean -- I was a good kid, kind enough and fair enough, but did I deserve this system that seemingly had the potential to make me the ruler of the whole world?


    Yes. I blurted without a second thought.


    Who was I kidding? Only brain-dead zombies and pacifists would complain in the face of such an opportunity.


    I was getting to my feet in the next second. I didn¡¯t feel it until I saw myself in the mirror, but I was smiling and my eyes were wide open, filled with expectations and glee.


    I had never been that energetic and spirited before. I looked somewhat scary, to be honest.


    Then I punched that scary-looking me in the face with all the strength I could muster. To hell with the consequences. I overdid it. The guy couldn¡¯t even fight back. One second he was complete and the next second the shards of his broken identity were flying all over the place. Most of it fell into the sink and only a few managed to touch the floor.


    Suddenly, the words changed.


    [Congratulations on getting your first superpower. Maybe it be the first step in your quest to understand fate.]


    [Milestone unlocked - Acquire your first superpower.]


    [Reward: Disguise Level + 10 and unlock a rare sub-skill.]


    [Sub skill: Flawed Perfection unlocked.]


    [Flawed Perfection: Looks can be deceiving, but a disguise with only form and no factor is inherently flawed.]


    [Next Milestone: Acquire Ten Superpowers. Reward: All powers level up once.]


    This was good. This was perfect. The only fly in the tea was my mother who was now banging at the bathroom door.


    ¡°What happened?¡± She did not say that calmly like Dumbledore.


    ¡°SAHIL! Did the mirror break? Are you all right?¡±


    She was probably fuming. The bathroom door held on for dear life while my mother pounded it with her fists. Her hands might be small, but I had personally felt the raw power contained in them. I could say with certainty, she could have wielded the infinity gauntlet and come out unscathed after the snap. No problem!


    I heard her voice and the world whirled into existence around me once again. I must have felt guilty inside because I replied, ¡°Yes, Ma, I broke the mirror.¡±


    That was a mistake. The banging ceased for a moment. Allowing quiet to creep into the conversation before it was scared away by a loud slap on the door.


    ¡°You rascal!¡± My dear mother said not so dearly. ¡°Come out and see how I fix you!¡±


    She stopped banging the door and started pulling the door handle to tear open the door instead. If banging on the door implied she was worried for my health, then now she was going to teach me a profound lesson in violence.


    ¡°You are breaking things now, huh? I¡¯ll show you how to break things. You have such a temper at your age, what will you be like in your thirties? We didn¡¯t have anything when I was your age. We didn¡¯t have a TV, a computer, or even electricity. You have everything yet you behave as if we owe you something. Open the door or I promise I¡¯ll kill you! OPEN IT!¡± She screamed at last.


    That was exactly why I didn¡¯t open the door. Or said anything. You speak and you are dead. You open the door and you are dead. So I acted dead.


    I ignored my mother¡¯s voice and examined my hand for injuries instead. My fist didn¡¯t sting. Though I had broken flesh on the third knuckle. It was bleeding. It did sting when I put my fist under the tap and let water run over the wound.


    While I was waiting for the bleeding to stop, my eyes fell on one of the taller mirror pieces that was standing dangerously on the sinkrest. It reflected my image. The same as always. Nothing changed; no transformations or improvements.


    Unease encrusted my heart as the thought arose in my head: Shall I try it?


    As if pushed by my will to change, something happened. My skin quivered. It stopped instantly when I felt and saw the change in the mirror shard. The changes instantly stopped and reverted.


    My heartbeat didn¡¯t. It got louder. I felt it. I heard it. It was not calming down. My breathing followed it, getting deeper, quicker.


    I gulped down my hesitation and then pushed my will to change once again. To put on a disguise, but wondered: to disguise into what, into whom? The changes in my facial structure reflected my thoughts; they appeared uncertain, untrained, and in turn unrestrained. I almost screamed aloud when my nose drooped down like melted ice cream. MJ¡¯s image flashed through my head and I immediately curbed my thoughts and stopped acting.


    I nervously gawked at the mirror shard. To my dismay, my appearance hadn¡¯t reverted to normal. I still had a drooping nose and loose skin.


    I have become a freak. The thought gave me Goosebumps.


    My legs started shaking. I grabbed the sink¡¯s ears to hold myself upright. I understood that the disfigurement was temporary, but that didn¡¯t stop tears from filling my eyes. They fell as I waited for my heart to calm down and my legs to regain strength. Wiping my eyes on the back of my hands I took a deep breath and started disguising myself actively again.


    I don¡¯t know how long I spent standing in front of the sink. By the time I was done with changing my appearance back to the way it was, I felt physically tired and mentally exhausted. I looked at myself in the mirror and I couldn¡¯t say if I looked normal or not. I tried my best and realized that however easy it was to mold a disguise, it was impossible to change into someone without a reference photo.


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    I stood in the quiet, staring at the strange-looking face in the mirror and realizing what a dumb thing I had just done.


    Never do big things with small hands! I reprimanded myself. You should have started small. Should have tried to see if you could repair the wound on your fist or try to add or remove old marks. But no! You wanted to become Brad Pitt on your first try and nearly ended up joining the circus instead!


    I didn¡¯t have the heart to do any more damage to myself and decided to leave the transformations alone for the time being. Even though in my heart I knew I didn¡¯t look like myself anymore. I could not do anything more. I lacked the courage to overcome the fear.


    Fear is a great divider. It separates the idiots from the smart. I wouldn¡¯t call myself a smart person, but I wasn¡¯t exactly an idiot either.


    Knowing that I had spent too long in the bathroom, I pushed everything that had happened in the past couple of minutes to the back of my head.


    I showered and left the bathroom. The fear of my mother forced me to thank God (even though I was an unbeliever) when I didn¡¯t see her outside. Either she had taken Rani out for a walk or¡­ who knows what kind of witchery she was out doing so early in the morning.


    Hurrying into my room, I was looking through my wardrobe when I got a proper glimpse of myself in the mirror. That guy in the mirror¡­ was not me. I was sure. That face was too streamlined to be mine. In my haste, I had spread my lips a bit too thin and narrowed my nose somewhat, something that I had always asked for, hoped for and wanted.


    I picked up my phone from the bed and opened the gallery. Navigating through the few pictures I had of myself, I picked a recent one and found that other than these two changes I hadn¡¯t touched anything else. Now I was in a dilemma. I couldn¡¯t decide between keeping the changes and reverting my face to normal.


    The changes were good, but they looked too unnatural. The boy in the mirror was a different person, to be honest. Deciding to go slow, I took a picture of myself with the changes to remember how I looked. Then I reverted to my normal face. Disguise came easier this time with a photo for reference. I believe the skill level and the sub-skill played a part. The successful surgery boosted my confidence but I didn¡¯t have the time to play around.


    It was 6:20 am.


    Not only was I running late. I had ten minutes until the UFO arrived at the bus stop. I called the school bus an unidentified flying object because I always felt like an alien sitting inside it.


    Ten minutes were all the time I had to get ready, eat breakfast, and become speed itself!


    Frustratingly over my head, I jumped into my school pants and punched into the sleeves of my shirt like I was in the last round of my world title match, and scoring a knockout was the only way I could win. I was frantic. I was insidious. I am sure if my boots were alive, they would have escaped from me in panic.


    ¡°BELT! MOM BELT! WHERE¡¯S MY BELT!¡± I screamed out the door. My life would have been much simpler if I had such courage against my bullies.


    Rani rushed into my room barking. Her tail went bonkers behind her. She jumped up and down around me. I wondered what made her so happy. Her happiness was infectious and it made me warm inside.


    ¡°Who¡¯s a good girl? Who¡¯s a good girl?¡± I said. Rani started barking happily again and running between my legs. Abhey might have brought her home, but she was my girl. I grabbed her face and started rubbing it furiously. She stood still and let me have a piece of her happiness.


    However, the warmth in my chest receded into a cold war between panic and fear when I heard the short-heavy footsteps approaching. Then Mom walked into the room. Rani pulled away from me and rushed toward her for pats. But mom wasn¡¯t having it. She ignored Rani and stared at me with her puffed eyes. Her lips closed shut to keep her insidious thoughts from leaking. She¡¯d hit me sometimes, but I was more afraid of being berated. Demons know, my mother had a way to make a grown man weak in his knees. My father could vouch for me.


    She didn¡¯t go look for the belt but stopped in front of me.


    ¡°Hands,¡± She said and I felt like a chicken on the chopping block.


    ¡°Ma--¡±


    She didn¡¯t listen and grabbed my hands from my sides. Pulled them to her face, and I swear, her lips twitched when she saw the broken skin of my right knuckle. I don¡¯t know why she pressed the wound, but she released my hands when I didn¡¯t scream in pain.


    ¡°You are lucky you are late for school.¡± She said.


    I heard the subtext. She was telling me to catch the bus or I was dead.


    The belt she found slithering among my undershirts behind the door. Our eyes met. I almost thought I was getting whipped today.  Then she snorted and threw the belt harmlessly at me before swaggering out of the room without another word. Rani looked between us before rushing after her. I sighed in relief. My mother¡¯s stare was more venomous than her words ever had been. I wanted to apologize but where did I have the time for that?


    Time was my excuse. In reality, I was just afraid to see her disappointed.


    The belt was still in my hand when I finally burst out of the room with my school bag slung over my shoulder. Nothing fancy, the bag just had two infinite pockets of black that could swallow my books and spit them back out when(n)ever I needed them.


    The lobby was empty. Dad was not around and Mom was outside. I could hear her dragging the clothes hanger out of the front gate. The Incense smoke gushed out of my way as I rushed into the kitchen, snapping close the belt buck on the way. I slid to a stop near the countertop, picked up my lunchbox ¨Cno money today¡ª and dashed through every door there was.


    I saw Mom outside, hanging clothes on the line. She had her back to me.


    ¡®I¡¯m leaving,¡¯ the thought grew and died in my head.


    By the time, she was out of my sight she was also out of my mind.


    I ran¡­ fast. Beside Abhey and I, there were two others, a boy and his older sister, who took the bus from the same stop. We walk to the stop together usually. But not today. It added to my worries that I had missed the bus.


    It wasn¡¯t enthusiasm driving me forward. Neither was it the fear of my mother¡¯s beating. Though my days in the school weren¡¯t any easier, they weren¡¯t as bad as my day would have been had I stayed home. Truthfully, it was not as if my mother would go out of her way to make my life hell. She never reminded me of my failures neither talked about the depth of her disappointment in me. It was just... complicated. I guess I felt guilty that I couldn¡¯t stand up to my parent''s hopes. That I failed at all and everything.


    But I wasn¡¯t the only one responsible for my tardiness. The world had harassed me such that I could no longer raise my head with pride. They were the reason I was growing introverted, irritated, and lazier with each passing day -- Not me!


    I passed a row of closed house gates on my way east, toward the highway. The dog at the lawyer''s bungalow snapped at me when I rushed by. He almost scared me to death that little critter. The day was colder than usual. Wind scared the tree branches wherever it passed through them, forcing the leaves to ring alarm bells all over the place. Dead leaves rained in pairs of two and three on the road. I was alone there running down, the backpack bouncing off my back with every stride. My motive was a distant dream at this point. Then I turned the corner and found myself face to face with the side of the yellow school bus leaving my stop. I was thirty-some meters from the stop and the bus was already on its way away.


    ¡°STOP!¡± I yelled and picked up speed. I don¡¯t know where I found the energy to speed up. I did it anyway.


    The bloating feeling was a blip in my mind.


    Just when my mind started suggesting I get ready for some belt whopping, the bus came to a halt in teh distance with a hiss. I was seething when I finally reached up and grabbed the door handle and climbed over the steps. My legs were jelly. I mean it. The interior looked darker than usual. I found a seat, not even my seat, and crashed into it like a baby falling into its mother¡¯s arms. I was heaving and sweating, profusely. And it was still summer. I knew I was going to smell like sour cheese by the time we reached school.


    Then the bus started moving and the sharp cold air breathing in through the open windows took all of my stress away.


    I looked over the back seat at Arzoo, who sat at the back with her brother. Nodded to convey my thanks and she smiled back. I knew only she could have seen me running and cared enough to ask the driver to stop the bus. I decided to find a way to thank her later.


    Turning back, I started thinking again. Like a great man once said, with great power comes great responsibility. Now I had great power. The question was, what should I do with it?

 Ch-2: Oct-1

    By the time you enter high school, you tend to graduate from most forms of bullying. By then everyone is either too tensed up trying to get good grades and get into a better university or they simply have better things to do than to mess with you. Yes, there are also students without conscience and life concerns, who don¡¯t understand the importance of entrance exams and think they can tide through life without any difficulty as they had for so long. Little do they know that their life before college was but a safe simulation used to test their compatibility with the shit fest that is reality.


    I was one of the latter, a kid who was so lost in his present and past that he had lost all sight of his future. I would have probably ended up a loner and a fool if I had continued walking the same path. But things were different now. Now I had a superpower. I could already disguise myself as anyone. There were endless possibilities with this power alone. Everyone knows Mystic from X-Men and her importance in that universe. I had even more potential than her. I could get a new superpower every day!


    I was a God in the making. Only, this future God had things to do that were more important than world peace. Like how he can use his powers to make friends, preferably a girlfriend.


    The bus stopped at the school gate and I was off for another boring day of classes where I pretended I liked studying. I followed a sea of students all dressed in the same grey pants and white shirts. You might recognize a few faces in a group and greet them on the way. But in a crowd all faces start to blur together, making it impossible to recognize anyone.


    No one greets me, usually. Today was different. I was getting looks from others. They stared and glared, and whispered, and pointed toward, at, all over me. They weren¡¯t mocking me. If anything, I sensed more curiosity and wonder from the voices and the gazes than anything else. As if, I wasn¡¯t one of them but an alien pretending. I was not being paranoid. You learn to read the people''s faces once you have been through a little too much sorrow.


    Juniors weren¡¯t allowed to bring phones to our school. Otherwise, they would have been out and about, capturing my strangeness from every angle.


    The sudden attention made me awkward. A superhuman or not, at that moment I felt like I was walking naked in the crowd. My heart raced. I dropped my head and bolted down the curbed path to get away from them, from everyone.


    Nauseated, I thought my face was molting again and that was the reason behind the attention. I didn¡¯t dare look at the tinted glass windows on the way to the classrooms. I didn¡¯t have the courage to see if it was true. All I wanted to do was to rush into the bathrooms and hide inside a stall. I had never done that before, but if I were to take something from American movies, they were the perfect hiding spot in schools, beside the rooftop.


    I didn¡¯t stop when I heard someone calling my name and kept rushing -- away from everyone. Up the stairs, past the water fountain. I had just stepped into the building when someone came from behind and slung an arm around my neck.


    ¡°Wha!¡± I slurred out of fright, almost falling to my knees. I was shaking in my boots.


    ¡°Where are you rushing to? I called you but you didn¡¯t answer. Something wrong?¡± The voice blared into my ears. Or so I felt even though the boy talked normally.


    I hurriedly pushed him away, hiding my face from him. Fear can make you do things that you won¡¯t normally do.


    ¡°Whoa, whoa.¡± I heard. ¡°Calm down man. What¡¯s the matter with you? Are you all right? Jeez. You are gonna fight your friends now?¡±


    I recognized the voice. Kartik, slim, short, and lanky. He was an arrogant loudmouth who was the complete opposite of me. He was smart too. We sat together in class and we were close, something that had always made me uneasy. He could have been one of the popular guys simply because of his hyper personality. Yet, he sat with me at the back of the class. I always wondered why.


    ¡°You look different.¡± Kartik threw out the statement at my face as if it was nothing. He was spontaneous and unlike me, he didn¡¯t worry much about the consequences.


    ¡°Wha-What¡¯s wrong with my face?¡± I stammered out. I was touching my face all over, trying to hide it.


    ¡°I never said face, but now that you mention it¡­¡± Kartik leaned closer, squinting and wondering. He was the exact opposite of me. I could never act and behave like him. Not only because of my childhood traumas but also because¡­ well there was no other reason.


    Being told you are ugly repeatedly in a multitude of fashions can break a back like nothing else.


    ¡°You are glowing, man. What did you do? Get a facial or something?¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I wasn¡¯t mangled or something. That gave my heart some much-needed reprise. It was going crazy in my chest.


    ¡°Seriously what did you do?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± I shook my head. I still was not sure enough to raise my head and look straight at him. ¡°I just took a¡­ bath.¡± I ended up saying which made my ears hot for no reason.


    ¡°Yeah right,¡± Kartik snorted out.


    I ended up going to the bathroom anyway. Now I really wanted to let one rip. Too much tension was not healthy for the bladder.


    We both entered the bathroom, which was empty as usual, with no bullies trying to dip a lower grader''s head in the toilet. I had never seen that kind of stuff happen in real life. The media always seem to exaggerate bullying into something physical. I guess, that was how it was in the West. I had only ever been assaulted verbally. Though to say the least, it didn¡¯t feel good to have the whole class laugh at me.


    I checked my face in the mirror and Kartik was right. I did look different. My skin was indeed glowing, or one could say it was too smooth. A man had no job having a skin like that. I guess, when I was comparing my face to my photo, I forgot that phones these days adjust the pictures with algorithms and erase all the little defects that a normal picture should have, beautifying them for consumer satisfaction. Something, I had completely ignored in my haste.


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    I thought of adjusting my skin, to make it rougher, duller. Before deciding to keep it unchanged. Kartick would have noticed the changes. Besides, he thought my changes were within reasonable doubt; and I didn¡¯t have the guts to disguise myself in the school either. There would be no hiding if anyone saw my drooping nose in the school. I didn¡¯t want to add Frankenstein to my already very long list of nicknames.


    I also noticed that while the skill could change my skin and the muscles underneath, it did not affect my hair. What kind of a disguise it was if I couldn¡¯t even change my hair as I liked! Just thinking about a perfect set of dark, thick hair made me squirm in my pants. Never having to worry about getting your hair done again and always looking your best all day, every day? That alone was worth the trouble of wasting a day to get a superpower that could allow me to change my hair. I could get an infinite amount of them anyway or so the system said.


    Out of the bathroom, up the stairs, our class was in the second room on the right. Everyone was already there. The seats were booked and divided by the various groups.


    On the far right sat the popular guys, right under the only air conditioner in the room. Those were the best seats in the house in summer. They took up more than six seats. It was a large group. The front of the middle column was taken by the not-so-nerdy nerds, at the back of which sat the girls from the non-med division. The front of the third column was taken by the girls from the medical division. At the back of which sat Kartick and I, along with the rest of the discarded.


    About popularity, I knew most of the people besides the girls, because why would they talk to someone like me? Not all of the popular guys were hard assess. They were a mixed bunch. Knew them all, talked to one or two, friends with one.


    I took a seat and then got off when it was recess.


    The only worthwhile thing that happened while I was in the class was the glances that I got from my neighbor. She didn¡¯t care about me, but her friend did. Perhaps she was empathetic, could feel my sadness, and wanted to help me. I could only guess. Her name was Sonam but I called her Sunflower, because of her bright smile.


    I didn¡¯t have any romantic thoughts about her, but she was the first person who had ever talked to me in the school when I joined two years ago.


    Besides that little incident, nothing happened that was worth mentioning other than that I failed another three mock tests. It caused no ripple in the already stagnant river of my teacher¡¯s expectations. It was the middle of the year and the teachers already had their favorites. They didn¡¯t even stop me from sleeping in the classes most of the time. They knew I didn¡¯t want to study and were happy as long I behaved.


    I was already thinking of changing that.


    It was not like I didn¡¯t like studying or was dumb. I was just having a tough time getting over my heartbreak. Especially since I could have had her, but my insecurities made sure that I didn¡¯t. Other than that, my memory also seemed to have suddenly developed holes so large it couldn¡¯t retain any knowledge. Why or how it happened was no longer my concern. I probably flushed my brain cells down the toilet.


    During recess, I usually go to the next class to glance at my crush. She opted for Commerce after 10<sup>th</sup> standard, while I got stuck in nonmedical. The classes in my high school were divided into four courses: Medical, non-medical, commerce, and everyone¡¯s favorite, arts. Unlike West, we didn¡¯t change classes but the teachers shifted through every 40 minutes teaching different subjects.


    Commerce, I didn¡¯t elect for it, not because I was too interested in Non-medical subjects. Everything looked and smelled the same to me. I didn¡¯t understand anything about anything. My parents said engineer and I said okay. Now we all were paying for that laid-back decision.


    My legs felt heavy while I was walking. It had been weeks since I had last seen Anjali because I knew she had agreed to someone else. How did I know? Well, she got a haircut. We were too alike, too prideful for our own good. She cut her braid and got a pony, like every other high school girl. It suited her somewhat. I know she didn¡¯t get it because of her friends. They were not the lot she was trying to impress. She would only do it to impress a boy she thought was too good for her. Just like I once did to try to become better for her.


    I knew her so thoroughly that I could tell what was on her mind with one look. Yet, I never had anything to say when we stood next to each other. I didn¡¯t enter her classroom. I stood outside by the railing and watched her from the open door. Was she beautiful? I didn¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t care about anyone else besides her anyway. One could say that I was obsessed. She gave me a rope when I was drowning. It''s all good if one can grab that rope and make it out to the land. I didn¡¯t. I drowned.


    She sat at the front benches on the far side of the room along with her new friends. Friends who made her smile way more than I ever could. What I wouldn¡¯t give to be there, with her. Superhuman or not, the distance made me weak in my legs.


    For some reason or another, she turned her head and our eyes met. I didn¡¯t turn away this time and saw in full clarity how the smile vanished from her face, replaced with a grim reminder that we were no more.


    My heart yearned to go talk to her, but I knew it was over between us. Our small friendship was over. Besides my pride wouldn¡¯t let me do it. It wouldn¡¯t accept the people who had abandoned me. No matter how sufferable it made me.


    I left her space when she turned away, back to being happy with her friends.


    I went back to my class and had lunch with Kartik. The break ended, and the classes restarted. The teachers came and went. I didn¡¯t hear a single word they said. I was too lost in the past. My mind was a prison and I was its sole captive. Before long it was the last lecture, a free period, and suddenly I found Sonam sitting on the bench next to mine. She sat alone, while her friend had ditched her to sit with others.


    My sense told me she sat there because of me and I should talk to her. I didn¡¯t. Despite having newly found some confidence, I wasn¡¯t strong enough to talk to yet another girl, whose likes and dislikes were too foreign to mine. The last time I had talked to a girl was over five months ago and that was a long ass time to remember. Besides I didn¡¯t have anything to say to Sonam.


    The day ended soon. My only reprise was that I didn¡¯t see her sulking. I didn¡¯t want to disappoint her too.


    The school ended.


    The last bell rang and I was leaving the classroom when I saw Anjali coming out of her classroom at the same time. Only a few steps separated us. Our eyes met again and I saw surprise in her eyes. Her eyes stayed on for far longer than they ever had and this time she didn¡¯t turn her head away. A spark grew in my chest, which blew out when her new boyfriend came out of the class, grabbed her hand, and tore her away from me. Leaving me standing in the corridor in a dazed stupor. Forcefully being reminded that despite all the attraction and the sparks between us, she was already someone else¡¯s.


    Now I needed to get my act straight. Unlike her, my superpower was real and the world awaited me to share the grace.

 Ch-3: Oct-1

    Respect is hard to earn and easy to lose. It requires hard work, sometimes years of it to earn someone¡¯s respect. Success is a measure of it but not a guarantee. There are many successful people hated across the world. The opposite of which is also true. Good ethics lays a great foundation to earn respect, but fear seems to triumph over every other quality.


    Easier yet is to lose respect. You fail once and the respect you have earned over the years evaporates like wax from a burning candle. Leaving a bright and entertaining hue that people remember you by for the rest of your life.


    I believe I lost my mother¡¯s respect, if she had any for me when I broke the mirror. Perhaps, it happened over time, and the mirror was the last thread of respect she had for me.


    She was waiting for me when I got back from school. Unlike most days, I found her sitting on the sofa playing with her phone, watching a repeat telecast of her favorite reality show. She ignored me, as did Rani, which I found very strange and disturbing. I kept wondering what was happening while I was changing clothes. I threw the ones I was wearing into the basket of dirty clothes and jumped into my comfy pajamas and shirt. Like every other day, I then asked my mom for lunch, which she told me she forgot to make. I thought sure, she was angry at me for breaking the mirror. Then I decided to get lunch by myself. It was not a hard job. I got a plate, put two bowls on it for curd and dal or sabji, and then went into the kitchen. Then seeing nothing cooked or cooking at the gas I understood that my dear Ma wasn¡¯t joking. She hadn¡¯t cooked me anything.


    I know that because there were dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, implying that she had eaten. She hadn¡¯t washed the dishes at all and the sink was overflowing. One more spoon and the mountain would crumble, causing a cacophony of the order of a war siren. Imagine all the dishes falling to the ground in the middle of the night. That would scare the ghosts away for sure.


    The next thing was for me to decide whether I wanted to confront her and get slapped, politely ask her to make me something, act spoiled and make something myself, or order something online. No money and experience suggested I apologize for breaking the mirror and put this ordeal behind me. That was what I did.


    I eased out of the kitchen and sat beside my mom on the sofa. ¡°I¡¯m sorry ma,¡± I said softly. ¡°It won¡¯t happen again.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± My mom said without taking her eyes off the phone.


    I waited for her to get up, but she didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Can you,¡± I got goosebumps hearing the cold voice coming out of my mouth. I hurriedly checked it and asked, ¡°Please, fix me something to eat?¡± I started with my heart beating a war song in my chest.


    ¡°Can you please, fix the mirror first?¡± She said and looked at me with a grin as if she had been waiting all day to say those words to me.


    I was left flabbergasted.


    It was such a nonsensical request; it flattened me out without retort. I stood in front of her like a lamp with a flickering light bulb wondering who was at fault here. Definitely, I was, but I was also tired after a whole day of school and just wanted something to eat.


    ¡°I can¡¯t fix the mirror.¡± I told her and asked, ¡°Tell me how I can make it up to you.¡± I could hear the aggression in my voice but I was not having it. My pride was both my enemy and my friend.


    She told me to get a new mirror. I told her I didn¡¯t have any money. And that was where she was waiting for me.


    Her lips rose like the horns of a bull and her eyes seemed to be looking at the prize. Shivers took me and I knew she had something horrible cooking in the back of her mind.


    That was two hours ago. Now here I was doing the dishes. Have been for the past -- I checked the time: I started at 2:45 and it was 4:15 pm now. So one and a half hours and counting. Leathering, cleaning, and wiping dishes as if I were on dishes duty in a restaurant. The only difference was, that my pay was a suitable serving of lunch instead of money. I wouldn¡¯t be so hysterical if it was a one-time thing. No. My mother wanted to teach me a lesson, a weeklong one. She made me promise to do the dishes for a week, twice a day, in the evening and night. So fourteen multiplied by 90 minutes was the time I was going to waste cleaning dishes. Valuable time I could have used to¡­


    ¡°Did you learn anything today?¡± My mother said stopping behind me as I was finishing up the task for the day.


    ¡°Yes.¡± She watched me as if expecting me to continue. I exhaled the bad breath in my chest and said, ¡°I learned that actions have consequences.¡±


    ¡°And,¡±


    ¡°I learned that time is a very valuable thing.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°I also learned that my mother is a very hard-working person. And I respect my mother very much. And that I¡¯m only being able to enjoy my days because of the work she quietly does every day.¡±


    ¡°Hmph,¡±


    ¡°So¡­ can I go now?¡± I said holding puppy eyes. The tears weren¡¯t acting. I was really on the verge of crying.


    ¡°Yes.¡± She said. I turned around only to hear her say, ¡°But don¡¯t forget to wash the dishes tonight.¡±


    She was the devil. I was slowly starting to regret falling into the system''s advice. Couldn¡¯t there have been a better way of getting the power? Did I have to break the mirror?


    I was hanging the wet apron outside to dry when I heard a familiar laughter echo in the alley. I looked around and saw the girl next door, a grown woman in her late twenties laughing at me from her balcony.


    ¡°Were you doing the dishes? Your mother finally put you in your place, huh.¡± Kangana said. She was a beautiful woman; big and soft in the right places. If she had a problem, it was her loud mouth. It was not normal for a girl in her late twenties to stay unmarried in our area. Especially an unemployed house rat.


    I was in no mood to take shit from a piece of shit. And I was hungry to boot. Hunger makes me cranky.


    ¡°Look who¡¯s talking?¡± I fired back. ¡°The pot is calling the kettle black.¡±


    It took her a while to understand what I meant. I was at the gate when I heard her yelling behind me, ¡°Oye, what do you mean by that? Don¡¯t you know how to talk to your elders? Wait till I tell your mother.¡±


    ¡°Go wrap your hands around someone else¡¯s neck,¡± I told her. ¡°You are already rotting. A few more days and you will start stinking too, old hag!¡±


    Kangana kicked up a ruckus behind me. I ignored her, closed the gate, and went back inside the house. This was the first time I had talked back to her and it made me slightly warmer, physically. Walking back, I even had the thought of disguising as someone she would like, and then ¡­ I shook my head and got the thought out of my head. Kangana deserved a beating, but not from me. Life would teach her the lesson she deserved. I didn¡¯t need to dirty my hands with her.


    As for her ratting me out to my mother, I had no worries about it. My mother was stubborn and bossy, but she was also very protective. There was one-time Abhey came back home crying because a boy slapped him. My mother looked at the handprint on his face, grabbed his arm, and took him straight back to the boy''s house. By the time she came back, the whole block knew not to mess with her. Not only did she slap the boy silly she fired a few slaps on the boy''s mother too. Even told the lady to keep her litter in check or she would do it for her. She was never that protective of me though. I wondered why.


    Shaking my head, I went back inside. The rice was still cooking so I had nothing to do for a while. Normally, I would waste my time with a movie or something until it was dinnertime. Today I had something else on my mind. I went to my room but I didn¡¯t feel safe enough. I needed some quiet and privacy. I wanted to test my disguise, the highs and lows of it. I wanted to close the door, but that was not possible in my house. The bathroom was the only place left where I could get some privacy in the house and that was where I went and locked myself in. Making sure the hatch was holding, I stood in front of the sink looking at my quite handsome face in the new mirror. I wouldn¡¯t have agreed to wash the dishes if I knew my parents had put up a new mirror already.  Thankfully, I didn¡¯t need to sneak in one of the broken mirror shards from the kitchen under my mother¡¯s nose. That would have been asking for trouble for sure.


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    I know I could change the shape of my face. What else could I do? I wanted to leave no rocks unturned. I had my phone on the side to make sure I would have some reference photos. The otherwise was quite scary, to be honest.


    Having learned my lesson from the previous mishap, I started small this time. No face swapping out of the gate. I started by trying to see if I could add and remove skin marks, moles, wounds, etc. And found all of them not only highly realistic but also quite easy. The disguise held well even after I rubbed my face. I was testing if external force could damage the disguise. It could not. For the first time in my life, I saw myself blushing. It started as a disguise, but then I saw the red creeping over my brown skin and then actually I started blushing.


    I tried to hide the wound on my knuckle next and it worked. I tried creating a new wound, a gaping cut on my forearm and that worked too. Surprisingly no blood seeped out of my skin even though I could see the muscles underneath. That was a bone-chilling experience that I didn¡¯t want to experience again if I¡¯m honest. I then added calluses to my hands and that worked too. However, the calluses appeared real, but they were too soft, like a boil.


    Next, I tried to disguise my sunburn. I didn¡¯t forget to take a measure of my skin shade so I wouldn¡¯t leave my acquaintances confused with a much lighter or darker skin later when I restored my skin tone. I didn¡¯t want to give Abhey another chance to put me under the microscope. He was the thunderstorm in my life, looking for a place to unleash its wrath.


    Anyways, who knew there were so many shades of skin tones? In total 18, and divided into deep, tan, medium, light, and fair. All the shades had delicious-sounding names too. The brown had deep, olive, cafe, toasted, burnt, and golden. Almost like we weren¡¯t talking about skin tones but the types of coffee.  According to the chart, I was an olive bronze. I was not that bad after all. Considering there was a whole spectrum of darker shades behind me. I guess my problem stemmed from being the only tanned boy in my classes. I suffered from the woes of being in the minority.


    I tasted all the skin tones from dark to fair and realized that I was quite a handsome budding man, putting the default setting aside. I also found my new favorite skin tone and it was honey beige. It gave me a charming face exuberating confidence and a sense of safety. I saved a picture of that face on my phone and renamed it the best version of myself. To remind myself of my potential.


    I also tried to change my skin color into something unrealistic like green or purple, and found it impossible for now. There was no resistance, only indifference from my skin. As if, the command couldn¡¯t be registered. Neither could I change my skin into another type of material. So no diamond hands for me. Perhaps, I could in time. For now, I could only be a regular human being¡­ with a bunch of awesome superpowers.


    Finally, it was time to pull out the big guns, to swap a completely different face.


    I started with something regular, a face shape that was similar to mine with minor differences. Either a narrower nose and thinner lips or puffed checks. It took me a while to get started. Having a reference photo factually made it easier to disguise my face into someone else¡¯s. The skill control was more intuitive than active. What worked for me was thinking about becoming my desired face. When I thought hard enough with the detailed picture of the face in mind, the superpower took over the rest. I didn¡¯t know if it was for the best or not. I had no grievances with the feature.


    Once I had succeeded with a disguise, there was no stopping me. I then went on to try taking over all kinds of faces. From all ages to ethnicities and colors. I even changed into a girl''s face once just for fun.  However, it was difficult to say if such a disguise was believable. I looked like a man trying to impersonate a girl. My demeanor gave me away.


    Firstly, I could still change the shape of my facial bones though with difficulty. I found it very difficult to adjust my height and body size. Skin changes came easier, but changing my bones took a lot of strength and energy. I felt weak and lethargic after every small transformation. I couldn¡¯t change my voice either. Though disguising my eye color was very possible and successful. I tried all the colors, from the lightest grey to the deepest blue before reluctantly turning my eyes back to their previous dark and brown.


    After all the tests, these were my findings. While it was possible for me to impersonate any man of similar size, weight, and height, I couldn¡¯t impersonate a kid, much less a real girl.


    Besides these, I also tried to give myself six packs. It felt possible, but the more I tried to move the fat around the more tired I felt, and before I knew it my stomach was growling. I felt hunger of the kind you¡¯d feel after a two-day fast.


    Thankfully, I had changed back into my original self before trying with the body-shaping shenanigans. Things would have taken a very wrong turn if I had rushed out of the bathroom as a strange man and had my mother seen me. It made sense that it took energy to put on a disguise and the bigger the changes the more energy was expended. I had been wondering if I would get a headache like the protagonists in most comics for using too much mental energy. There was no such thing. The superpower only used biological energy to complete the changes. No wonder I felt increasingly exhausted after every transformation.


    My mother watched me with questionable eyes when I rushed out of the bathroom and straight into the kitchen asking for something to eat. The deal was for me to wash the dishes and get lunch. But she brazenly broke our deal. The dishes were washed but the rice was still cooking.


    ¡°How long is it gonna take, ma?¡± I asked or yelled. I couldn¡¯t control it. My head was buzzing with hunger.


    ¡°It will cook in time.¡±


    ¡°How long?¡± I snapped at her like an addict.


    My mother responded by grabbing my face in a vice grip and asking me, ¡°Where you doing drugs in there? Is that why you took so long to come out?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m hungry ma!¡± I snatched my face out of her hand and started complaining. ¡°I haven¡¯t eaten anything since morning. Besides, where do I get money for drugs? It¡¯s not like you give me any.¡±


    ¡°So you would take drugs if you had the money to buy them. Is that what you are saying?¡±


    ¡°Ma,¡± I cried. ¡°Please stop watching those crime shows and give me food. I¡¯m gonna faint.¡±


    Mom glared at me. ¡°If you are so hungry what were you doing in the bathroom for so long?¡±


    Another time I would have indulged her delusions. Right now, there was only one thing on my mind.


    ¡°Ma! FOOD!¡±


    She wasn¡¯t convinced. No wonder she always kept a vigil for me since that day.


    No matter how I cried, the rice cooked in its due time. I filled a plate and pounced on it like a hungry barbarian who had not eaten in days. I burned my mouth countless times while eating the steaming hot rice. I should have waited for it to cool down. Not only did I get boils in my mouth, my mother also gave me another title. She called me an animal.


    I finished one whole serving and went for seconds. The second plate full of rice filled my stomach, but couldn¡¯t completely curb my hunger. At least I wasn¡¯t fainting from it like before. This was to be a warning for me. Magic needs energy to work.


    Soon I¡¯d have even more superpowers. I worried about my health, wondering if the powers would drain me out. I understood that food alone wasn¡¯t gonna cut it. I needed other sources of energy or at least a way to digest food faster. It takes 6-8 hours for food to digest naturally. The day lilies would be cold if I depended on my stomach alone to fulfill my soon-to-be-increasing energy needs.


    I made a mental note of my worry and then forgot about it. Firstly, I had a few more basic desires to fulfill. Secondly, I was eighteen years old. Responsibility would never be the hallmark of kids that age.

 Ch-4: Oct-2-Super brain

    I looked at the clock. It was a sign of an upcoming change, the countdown to madness. It was ten minutes to midnight. I released a sigh.


    I had a quiet day until the evening. The day was normal as a floating cloud surfing the wind for an uncertain future. Then the sun took leave for the day and night took over in the sky, as did trepidation over my heart. I remembered my unsightly encounter with the system. I realized that the encounter would repeat again tonight allowing me another chance to hold a piece of god¡¯s miracle. A new superpower awaited me. This realization led to unwanted anxiousness and a headache.


    Two ailments that don¡¯t go so well together.


    As if that wasn¡¯t enough, my father picked up my brother, Abhey, from our uncle¡¯s home on his way back from work. Who took one look at me and pointed out all the wrongs in a single breath.


    I was lazing around, dinging tea, and minding my own business. When the handsom-er and eager younger brother of mine came over and started accusing me.


    ¡°Who are you and what did you do to my dull brother.¡±


    One could imagine my reaction. I spurted out the tea I was drinking, most of which went on the just-cleaned floor. While some of it went up my nose and gave me quite an unhealthy burn. Let¡¯s not forget the pain and the awkwardness that followed when I was trying to clean my nose of any Darjeeling tea leaf residue.


    ¡°What happened,¡± My father asked, and my brother in all of his evil innocence counted an infinite amount of flaws in me.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious. Who is he?¡± Abhey pointed at me.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with him?¡± My father asked.


    ¡°Look at his eyebrows,¡± Abhey answered. ¡°They are not conjoined anymore. Even his nose bridge looks straighter. Remember it used to have this huge budge at the center like an overly large rock had gotten stuck in a pipe?¡± Hmm, our father scrutinized while he continued. ¡°It¡¯s not there anymore. And his lips, they are reddish. I remember one of my friends asked me once if my brother smoked. He told me those who smoke have black lips.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not wrong,¡± I heard my father mummer. I grimaced inside. Outwardly, I smiled. Though it probably looked forced.


    ¡°What else?¡± My mother came over from the kitchen. She set the tray she carried on the table and laid down on the bed, releasing an audible groan of satisfaction. The way she stared at us, she seemed too engrossed to be joking. I saw a kind of sharpness in her eyes that wasn¡¯t there before. She had her doubts too, I guessed.


    ¡°That¡¯s not it.¡± My dear brother continued. ¡°Doesn¡¯t his face look narrower? And what¡¯s with his skin? I remember he had ugly purple-looking pimple spots on his right side.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡±


    ¡°But ma, haven¡¯t you noticed the biggest difference?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± My mom said leaning forward, her ears perked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think he looks fairer? I mean you can now almost see him in the light. Look,¡± He said standing next to me. ¡°He used to look like my shadow before, but now,¡±


    I didn¡¯t know whether to get angry at him or be scared.


    ¡°Looks the same to me,¡± My mother said.


    My brother looked at my grimace, snickered, and then started laughing. ¡°Look at his face,¡± He wheezed out. He couldn¡¯t breathe. He was laughing so hard.


    ¡°You shit--¡±


    ¡°What do you say?¡± My mother sat up, glaring.


    I stomped my foot and left the room. I should say I escaped the room, but I wanted to have some dignity left. I went back again. Abhey stared at me in fear and stepped closer to our father. I wasn¡¯t there to pick a fight. I ignored him, picked up my cup of tea, and went out of the room. I could hear all three of them laughing behind me and truthfully, it made me slightly sad. I really had no respect left in the house. And I brought it all on my own head.


    Our parents¡¯ behavior shifted in Abhey¡¯s favor after my academic performance took a plunge due to certain love-related problems. Even though my parents had always catered to my little brother''s needs, at least they paid attention to mine. Now I felt like that awkward pillar disturbing the house feng shui. It had been a slippery slope ever since my crush crushed me. The result of this was a constant struggle between indifference and inexistence. I didn¡¯t even get a gift on my birthday this year. I guess I deserved that too.


    No one cares about a moldy loaf of bread that they can¡¯t eat. That only spreads diseases and takes up space in the fridge. At least one could throw out the moldy bread and free up space. How could my parents do that to me? It would be neither ethically nor socially acceptable. Not only would they be deemed irresponsible but also lose respect.


    We lived in a society connected by relations rather than networks. Everyone here knew everyone else. To abandon a son would not make them martyrs, but lose them respect and trust in the society. A result that I wouldn¡¯t want for my enemies.


    Thankfully, there would be no need for anyone to think about that future. I had already decided to change so there was no need to panic. My parents didn¡¯t want me to waste my life away and I was gonna respect their decision.


    Laser eyes and fire breath be damned; I had survival on my mind.


    I closed the physics book I was reading to pass the time. Studying is a fairly time-consuming affair, once you get past the initial drowsiness that comes from reading educational books. Especially when solving problems. You get into the rhythm and it¡¯s midnight before you know it.


    The clock struck midnight and the unease that I had been feeling since evening reached its peak. Burning words containing celestial aura appeared right before my eyes.


    [The Daily superpower system has heard your wish!]


    [Super Brain is an excellent superpower that not only passively enhances your intelligence by some degrees but also provides active improvement to your learning capacity by expending some energy.]


    [Task level: E]


    [Help your younger brother complete his homework once.]


    [Would you like to accept the task to acquire the ability? Yes/No]


    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± I screamed out in surprise. Not from the task; it was scary, but not as scary as the system''s appearance.


    I was confused and sick when it appeared for the first time to me. Then it suddenly disappeared before I even had the time to organize my thoughts. This time I was completely awake and in control. Yet its appearance was so sudden that it jolted me back. Like when someone pats you on the back. Most people tend to rush forward to save their lives or cower to survive. I responded in the same way. I was surprised. Anyone would be if burning words of red and blue start glowing in front of their eyes. I was a bit too loud though. And I could already hear a pair of footsteps getting louder with each step. Hurriedly turning the light off, I dove under the blanket to pretend I was sleeping. I kept my face away from the door. I didn¡¯t dare to sneak a peek around to check for danger.


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    Soon the approaching footsteps entered the room. The lights turned on. I knew from the flight of the footsteps that they belonged to my mother. She stayed in the room for a few minutes, standing behind me without saying a word. The pressure I felt at that moment was indescribable. Seconds ticked away. The second arm of my clock was a sharp sword pointed at my heart, closing the distance with counted steps. Then the light turned off, driving the room back into darkness. My mother didn¡¯t leave. She stood at the door, waiting, silently. I didn¡¯t move either until I heard her walking away and even after that, I stayed still, pretending to be asleep. I had no reason to move.


    The system¡¯s task was to help my brother complete his homework. More surprising was that it was an E-level task. I didn¡¯t blame the system. It probably couldn¡¯t see through my brother''s disguise and thought he was only human. The devil lives among us. We just can¡¯t see him. Laying down, I wondered how the tasks were rated. The last so-called E-level task almost sent me to the gulag. What would a higher-level task ask from me, to assassinate Putin?


    Jokes aside ¨C It was going to be a challenge to complete this hell-level task (personally adjusted). I was sure my brother wouldn¡¯t even let me inside his room. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I had entered that morbid place. I leaned over my bed and looked out the door. Abhey¡¯s room was directly opposite mine. Connected by a hallway, his room was by the front gate; the only room with a window. One could even say he had the best seat in the house. I could see some light moving about inside his room from the space under the closed door. Yes, I wasn¡¯t allowed to close my door at night, but he was.


    My parents were too partial. I sometimes wished I hadn¡¯t stopped studying. Fucking love -- broke me in so many ways it was hard to count.


    Unfortunately, the plan to get the superpower before the next morning went bust before I could roll it out. At least the system was real and so were the daily superpowers. The best thing was knowing that I could wish for the powers. I mean I would love to get teleportation, but considering the hell-level task I received for such a basic level of power, who knew what kinds of monsters I would have to face to acquire that?


    Left with no other choice, I called it a night. I packed my books, closed the door (because I am a lunatic who doesn¡¯t listen to anyone), and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I didn¡¯t even remember falling sleeping. I was so exhausted. I felt confused when the alarm rang because I thought I had just fallen asleep. How could it be morning so soon? Then again, I hadn¡¯t slept the previous night. Then I first exhausted myself learning how to use disguise and then studying for hours. Feeling exhausted even after a night¡¯s sleep seemed completely believable.


    I turned the alarm off and got up in a daze. I was opening the door when I heard frantic footsteps outside and remembered I had a rival competing with me for occupying the bathroom and that thought woke me up faster than a can of concentrated tarry black coffee. Abhey¡¯s laughter echoed in the house as I rushed after him. Our mother wasn¡¯t there to glare at me that day. I sped around the corner, almost banging against the wall¡¯s edge, only to see Abhey standing inside the bathroom with a hand on the door handle and a sneer on his face.


    ¡°Stop!¡± I yelled. He didn¡¯t.


    The sound of the door slamming shut on my face felt more like a slap than a statement of his prowess over me. I banged on the door and he started laughing in the bathroom like a maniac. I released a groan and went away.


    He does it most days. Competes with me to see who could occupy the bathroom earlier, faster, whatever. It didn¡¯t help that the bathroom was closer to his room.


    I woke up half an hour earlier than his supposed waking time so he wouldn¡¯t have to wait to use the bathroom. But he was such an asshole that he woke up at the exact time as me so he can compete with me. I learned about it the hard way when I made the mistake of accommodating him once. Thinking, if he wanted to bathe earlier then I¡¯d let him.


    So I woke up half an hour late believing the bathroom would be empty. It wasn¡¯t. He cried out to our parents that I didn¡¯t wake up on time and was now bullying him. Not only did my mother give me an earful, but I also had to go to school without bathing. That day one of my classmates told me I smelled like dead fish. He wasn¡¯t making fun of me. He was telling the truth.


    Sighing, I gave up and went about my day. While Abhey washed up, I brushed my teeth and ironed my clothes. I also had breakfast in that period. Yes, I ate before bathing. I had no choice. This was what he had forced me to become. Eventually, I would have my revenge.


    We left home on time and met Arzoo and her little brother on the way. Abhey waved to her and then he started flirting with her. I wonder why I felt pangs of regret whenever she laughed at his jokes. On the bus, we sat together as always. And as always he took the window seat. We didn¡¯t talk on the way to school. He liked to boss me around at home, but he was quite civil outside. Never disrespected or called me by name or talked behind my back. He even called me his elder brother when we sometimes passed by at school during recess. Guess he had a good side too.


    He even showed his good side that day, when I heard a younger voice mocking me from the bus window on our way to the classes.


    ¡°Oye, monkey! Do you want a banana?¡± The voice called. It was young and belligerent. Then came laughter and the droning conversation that followed. I didn¡¯t hear what they were saying, but my heart was already in the pit of my stomach. What a great start to the day.


    I didn¡¯t fight back because inaction was the best form of defense I had learned over a long period of harassment. The bullies want attention. They want you to talk back so they can entertain themselves. They feed off of your anger. It makes them happy.


    ¡°Take your banana and shove it up your ass. I bet you¡¯ll like it too.¡± Suddenly I heard from beside me. Instantly the laughter died down.


    I looked up and saw Abhey flipping double birds to the assholes in the bus. It was like an instant shot of adrenaline. The mood reversed and suddenly I was proud of my little brother. I even felt a smile creeping up my face.


    All of my renewed excitement and pride melted into water and evaporated into steam when my brother turned to look at me.


    With disappointed eyes, he asked, ¡°When are you going to stand up for yourself?¡±


    Such a small question yet it threw a boulder into my heart. Causing waves of magnitude that none of the taunts ever had. My face fell into the abyss. Grim replaced the smile. My head dropped further than before. I was down in the pit again. So embarrassed of myself that I couldn¡¯t even look at my little brother. Before I knew it, I was walking faster, trying to distance myself from him.


    He was right. When was I gonna stand up for myself? I thought of pushing him away but found him clinging to me like a god-forsaken leech. No matter how fast I walked I couldn¡¯t get rid of him. Truthfully, it became a little funny by the time we reached the stairs because we were both running.


    We separated on the first floor. My class was there but he had to go up another floor. His words were still on my mind. I couldn¡¯t help take a few steps forward and stop.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I turned around and called him but he had already climbed the stairs. Exhaling heavily, I was about to turn when I saw him appearing back on the stairs.


    ¡°What?¡± He said with a scrunched-up face like a constipated cat.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I had to fight myself to say it. My pride wouldn¡¯t allow it; even though it allows almost everyone to throw dirt at me.


    ¡°Sure. Anything else.¡± Abhey asked nonchalantly.


    I shook my head and he walked back up the stairs. I saw him smile and suddenly remembered my task. Perhaps, I could use this incident as an excuse to help him with his homework. I would need to be persistent and shameless, but this was a God-given chance and it would be a shame to waste it away. It was like finding gold in the mud. With new enthusiasm, I walked into my class, excited about the day.


    Even though my task was only to help Abhey complete his homework, it almost felt like I was gonna usurp the king from his throne.

 Ch-5: Oct-2-

    ¡°What do you want?¡± Abhey asked me on the way back when we were on the bus.


    Maybe my sheepish grin irked him. His eyebrows scrunched into a tighter frown and his lips puckered out, reminding me of a balloon ready to burst.  I was hoping my silence would make him tighten up with pride, but he didn¡¯t let me up so easily.


    ¡°You can tell me you know? I won¡¯t bite.¡± He asked again on our walk back home from the bus stop. He whispered so Arzoo wouldn¡¯t hear him, which was quite endearing honestly.


    ¡°There is nothing. Why do you keep asking me that?¡± I fired a shot in the air to drive away the crows eating at my crops. It didn¡¯t work. Instead, the crows attacked me.


    ¡°You have been staring bro! It feels weird. Makes me feel sorry for all the girls who have to go through this all day.¡± He stared at me and said shaking his head, ¡°You need to stop. It¡¯s creeping me out.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t staring,¡± Perhaps I was. ¡°I was just wondering.¡±


    What could I do? I had a terrible day at school today. Not only could I not stop thinking about the task, I also kept devising impossible ways to dupe Abhey into letting me help him do his homework. Some of which included blackmailing him with his dark history. I remembered a few snippets of them after thinking about it hard and long during math class. It almost led me to trouble with my teacher too!


    Suddenly he stopped walking in the middle of the road and asked, ¡°About what?¡± His voice was an octave higher. Impatient, unblinking eyes stared daggers at me. Even Arzoo heard and looked over her shoulder to see the situation.


    ¡°Nothing I was just wondering how you are doing in your classes, whether you understand the content or not. Stuff like that.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±Abhey stabbed me with a butter knife.


    These one-word questions were brutal. I always had a problem answering questions in a conversation. They disrupt my rhythm and make me awkward.


    ¡°I thought maybe I could help you with your homework as the finals are coming and--¡±


    I found him sneering at me.


    ¡°Why are you making that face? Don¡¯t look down on me. I was one of the toppers until last year.¡±


    He scoffed and shook his head. Then he started laughing.


    ¡°Oh that¡¯s a good one,¡± He patted my shoulder and started walking again.


    What did he mean by that? Was it a yes? A no, perhaps? I wasn¡¯t good at social clues. Heck, there had been times when I had laughed at sarcastic remarks directed at me because I didn¡¯t understand sarcasm as well as most people normally do. At least he didn¡¯t outright reject me. He would have said no if he was completely against the idea. Perhaps, I had a chance. It could mean anything. I wasn¡¯t an optimist, but I sure as hell had a knack for finding happiness in the cracks.


    I sneakily glanced at Abhey¡¯s bored face. Was it possible that he understood my motive and wanted me to beg him? I wouldn¡¯t put it past him. He knew the value of promises. I wish I could read his mind. Who was the master of disguise between us?


    The conversation fell like a bomb. Thankfully, it turned out to be a dud and didn¡¯t explode. I had been wondering what would happen if I couldn¡¯t complete the task before midnight. Would the task carry over or would a new task replace it? Would be fine if it was the former, I thought, but a waste if it was the latter.


    We brothers had our differences. One could even say that we were the complete opposite of each other. Where I was vigilant and reserved, Abhey was crude and aggressive. Even In our actions, we were each other mirror image. We didn¡¯t even remove our clothes in the same way. Abhey removed his clothes and threw them around like he had a personal maid running around to clean after him. I was civil and harshly educated as my mother¡¯s first child. I hadn¡¯t the courage to follow Abhey''s footsteps. I put my school clothes in the basket with other dirty clothes. I guess it was an issue of courage. The reason we were so different. Our mother also didn¡¯t find any faults in his selfish actions, but there would be hell to pay if I copied him.


    He was the boss of the house while our father was out. He could ask our mother to make him tea at any time. I couldn¡¯t do that. Tea was made twice at our house. Once in the morning with breakfast and then in the evening when our father returns from work. But the rule didn¡¯t apply to the prince.


    ¡°Put some cloves in the tea, ma.¡± Abhey looked over our mother''s shoulder to peek at the water boiling in the teapot. ¡°Do we have biscuits?¡±


    ¡°You ate the last packet yesterday. Did you forget?¡±


    He groaned and complained, ¡°I told you to buy a few more packets. Why didn¡¯t you?¡±


    It always gave me goosebumps whenever he raised his voice with our mother. Where did they find the courage, I always wondered.


    ¡°I forgot. Don¡¯t be angry. Here,¡± Our mother said calmly and to my surprise politely. She then went ahead to open one of the kitchen cabinets to pay him money for her supposed mistake. She pulled a twenty rupee note and handed it to the disgruntled cat.


    ¡°Take this and buy whatever you want.¡±


    Abhey looked at the money. He looked tempted but shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m tired from school.¡±


    A shiver went down my spine when I heard him say that. The words gave me a d¨¦j¨¤ vu-like feeling. Like I had been there before. Then I remembered that the same thing happened last week too. I got up to escape to my room, but my mother was faster and more agile. She was a bigger cat than my brother, a lioness.


    ¡°Sahil,¡± It was a command, not a call. ¡°Go, get some biscuits for Abhey,¡±


    ¡°Why should I go?¡± I said even though I knew there was no fighting her. I also had my temper.


    ¡°Because I¡¯m telling you to go,¡± Now this was an order from my senior officer, impossible to ignore. I didn¡¯t want to get court marshaled.


    I didn¡¯t forget to glare at Abhey on my way to my mother¡¯s side to get the money.


    Maybe I should stand up for myself now. The thought came and went from my head before I could react.


    ¡°Get me Good day!¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll get you a Good day,¡± I said before leaving.


    Good Day was one of the better brands of biscuits that we served our guests because they were slightly pricier and a lot nicer than other varieties available at the same price. But he was probably being sarcastic. I really couldn¡¯t tell.


    This was not a lone case of the mother and son pair bullying a kind person like me. They did it all the time. I had no respect in that house. Sometimes I wondered what would happen if I stopped caring. What would happen if I started ignoring them all?


    I didn¡¯t want to test them because I didn¡¯t have the natural skills needed to survive outside on my own. My problem was that I agreed too easily to demands. I was just not selfish enough. If I didn¡¯t care about hurting them in return they wouldn¡¯t treat me like roadside dirt either.


    I decided to stand up against them later. I still had a favor to ask from Abhey. There was no need to antagonize him over a trip to the market which wasn¡¯t even that far. I say market, but it was a small grocery store someone had opened in their home. They sold everything except the perishables. I always thought that if ever there were an apocalypse, shop owners like these would be either the first ones to die or the ones who would easily make it to the end.


    I greeted the grocer, an old man in his sixties whom I knew as Sharma Uncle. Never had the desire to know his first name, I wondered why at times but not with the desire to answer. You don¡¯t enter the shop, but order things at the counter. And it was payment first. A small store, an old man at the counter, the first thing through people''s minds must be robbery. But I had never heard of them getting robbed or fleeced. I guess, the small cash flow was the problem or the savior in this case.


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    I walked into the store and was surprised. What did I see? Arzoo, standing there waiting for her order to be filled.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I called her and she jerked back in surprise. I guess she wasn¡¯t expecting to meet anyone at the store.


    ¡°Hi,¡± She said with a bit of nervous laugh. Those raised hands also fell back to their reserved place by her waist. She was quite a bit shorter than I was. And had to raise her head to look up, which made her all the more charming.


    ¡°Thanks for yesterday. I would have missed the bus if it was not for you. And that would have put me in endless troubles with my ma.¡±


    I noticed a confident grin growing on her face. She noticed it in time and stubbed it. Though I wished, she hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°How do you know I stopped the bus?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe there is anyone else that cares enough.¡± Oh, shit! I slipped up. My words frightened the both of us. Where I was left carrying a foolish smile on my smile. Arzoo turned away as if running away from the plague, keeping social distance from me.


    Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean it like that. I felt too embarrassed to say the words. Arzoo paid for her things, picked up the bag, and left with hurried strides. I was left scratching my head, groaning inside.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Sharma Ji asked me.


    I paid for the biscuits and returned. I couldn¡¯t help looking toward Arzoo¡¯s home on the way back. The closed-painted brown Iron Gate seemed like a sign of increased distance and closed emotions.  I wasn¡¯t very interested in her. I didn¡¯t think I would ever get interested in another girl like I was for Anjali. It just felt bad to disappoint others. To think I had pushed another person away. It was not a nice thought to have on cold evenings when you are feeling lonely and alone.


    Anyways, back home. I took the packet of Good Day straight to Abhey¡¯s room. One to simply enter his room, which I wasn¡¯t normally allowed inside. He kept the door locked at all times. Always kept me wondering what he did there all day long and sometimes on nights too when I could see light dancing inside his room from the crack under his door.


    Second, now that I had done something for him it gave me a chance to ask him something in return. The odds were against me, but I had some positive equity.


    The door to his room was open when I got there. I went inside and found him sitting on the bed with his books sprawled open. He was doing his homework and the teacup was still steaming on the tray. It made me groan, not the tea, but the teacup. It would have been nice if I could get tea served in a china cup for once. Knowing it was never going to happen, there was nothing wrong in groaning about it.


    Besides, Abhey was wearing headphones. However, when I looked closer, he seemed to be talking to someone holding a somewhat shy, somewhat expectant smile on his face.


    He was talking to a girl?


    I don¡¯t know why it came as a surprise to me. He was the complete opposite of me. And since I was not good at anything, that made him better than me at almost everything. It wouldn¡¯t have surprised me had he driven a bike home and said he learned to drive it in the morning. Perhaps it would be bragging since he was no genius. But then my parents would have another thing to hold against me.


    I took a deep breath and told myself that I could do it. He was my younger brother, not the other way around.


    He saw me approaching, covered the headphone mic with his hand, and said, ¡°You took your sweet time? What happened? Meet a girl on the way?¡±


    I let out a nervous snort and pulled a chair to his bedside.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± His back straightened as if he was getting combat-ready.


    I sat on the chair under his scrutinizing glare. I felt like a commoner asking a government employee for help. The packet of biscuits was his bribe.


    Ignoring the hand Abhey stretched for the packet of good day. I tore open the packet instead, put it on the tray, and pulled one to nibble on. It took a lot of strength for me to accomplish that task. I wanted to appear strong and in control. Which I wouldn¡¯t have had I given him the packet. I was trying to establish dominance. The pack leader taking the first bite of the kill.


    Abhey watched me with raised eyebrows. Waiting for me to finish my acting and say my piece.


    ¡°Do you need help with your homework?¡± I knew he wouldn¡¯t agree. But I had devised some plans that ranged from emotionally blackmailing him, to forcing him to agree. Both of which I knew wouldn¡¯t hold for a second once he screamed for our mother''s help.


    ¡°I¡¯ll call you later,¡± He told his friend on the phone and disconnected the call. All the while he kept his eyes on me. That glare reminded me of the countless wildlife documentaries I had watched on NatGeo Wild. The camera zooms on the lion''s face just before it dashes after the deer for the hunt.


    ¡°MA!¡± Abhey shouted.


    A wave of fear arose from the pit of my stomach. I jumped on him to cover his mouth. Who knew what kind of morbid story about blackmail and extortion he would tell her? Probably that I wasn¡¯t letting him study. He had used that same story uncountable times to get me kicked out of his room whenever I came over to make a fuss. Not this time, however.


    Hastily, I pushed him on the bed and stood over him. To my surprise, he didn¡¯t do anything and kept staring at me for my next move. I guess he was waiting for our mother''s arrival. Washing dishes would be the last of my worries if she saw us like this!


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t tell ma anything. I just want to help you in some way. To thank you for standing up for me. You are right. I need to do that. I can¡¯t just let everyone push me down. But I have to start somewhere right? You can¡¯t just ask me to fight the end-game dragon when I haven¡¯t even completed my novice mission. Let me practice it with you. As a thank you, let me help you with your studies.¡±


    I waited with bated breaths for him to speak until he tapped my hands and pointed at his mouth. Only then did I realize I was still covering his mouth? He was telling me to lift up my hands. I grinned sheepishly and asked him, ¡°You won¡¯t yell for ma right?¡±


    He squinted and I knew he was scrapping the bottom of his patience and could only slightly raise my hands to let him speak. I waited for a second to see if he screamed. He didn¡¯t and I slowly pulled my hands back. I was still sitting on top of him, any case he tried to struggle free. At least he didn¡¯t scream.


    ¡°Thanks for the biscuits,¡± Abhey said. ¡°We are even. How does that sound to you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡±


    ¡°What else; do you want to wash my underwear?¡±


    This bitch-- ¡°I just want to help with your homework.¡±


    A frown covered his forehead. ¡°Why are you so obsessed with my homework.¡±


    ¡°Because studying is the only thing I¡¯m any better than you.¡± I could only say the truth. ¡°Isn¡¯t this what you wanted to hear? Now I¡¯ve said it. Are you happy now? Can we move one and get some work done?¡±


    Suddenly Abhey started laughing. The laughter got louder and deeper the more I glared at him.


    ¡°What are you laughing at?¡± I said and suddenly I heard my voice coming from his phone, repeating the same shameful lines back to me.


    Because studying is the only thing I¡¯m any better than you.


    The voice ended and he started laughing out louder.


    ¡°Give me that,¡± I tried to snatch his phone but he was slicker than I had imagined. We struggled for a while, trying to make sure we don¡¯t spill the tea otherwise it would be both of our asses on the line. He tried to make the tall guy move, trying to hold the phone away from me. But he forgot one thing and I realized another. Studying wasn¡¯t the only thing I was better than him. I was also taller than him.


    Eventually, I got the phone. Thankfully, he was still logged in.


    We were still struggling on the bed. I used a hand to keep him at bay and another to look for the recording.


    I found it and was just about to delete it when I heard him say, ¡°Don¡¯t you want to help me with my homework?¡± He got my attention. ¡°Then give me my phone back.¡±


    ¡°The recording¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the price you have to pay.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have a choice. Between pride and superpower, I had to choose one. I gave up my pride. Perhaps, that was what standing up for yourself really meant. To stand up for yourself you have to stop caring about others. You have to be selfish. And I was not a selfish person. Perhaps this was my first step in that direction.


    Or it was just the reason I gave myself to make it easier to bow my head one more time.

 Ch-6: Oct-3: Photographic memory

    ¡°Sahil?¡±


    ¡°Present sir,¡± I raised my head to show my face to the teacher.


    ¡°Wait. Why are you wearing sunglasses in the classroom?¡± The teacher pointed his chalk at the elephant in the room, forcing everyone to notice.


    Then the gals and the guys who had been holding the question in their guts came scrambling out of the shade with their forks and tongs to prod the elephant. It was a circus once again. Comments sailed from the north end and exploding laughter at the south. This was the sixth period and the sixth teacher today who had asked me the same question. One of them had even decided to check for the truth and realized he was in the wrong when I hissed in pain and crouched down holding my face and head.


    ¡°He¡¯s a superhero after all,¡± One of my classmates added, raising some laughter.


    How he¡¯d hit the spot and missed it was both baffling and amusing to me. I ignored them and told my teacher, ¡°I have an eye problem. The doctor told me to cover my eyes.¡±


    ¡°Is it an infection?¡± The teacher asked worryingly.


    Mr. Gurcharan; was in his forties but looked a lot younger. Like one of those German scientists shown in American war movies, he had a clean shaved face with a razor-sharp jawline and sleek black hair parted at the side. Short in stature compared to the other teachers, but with an equal or straighter back. He was a prideful man.


    ¡°No, but the light and the wind are hurting me. My eyes keep watering up and so¡­¡±


    ¡°Are you telling the truth?¡±


    ¡°Of course sir, why would I lie to you about this thing?¡± I wasn¡¯t telling the truth.


    ¡°All right, sit down.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have any eye problems. Actually, I did, but not in a normal way.


    I had one hell of a time last night, but I didn¡¯t know what kind of a morning awaited me. It all started after I helped my brother with his homework, thus completing the task and acquiring the superpower super brain. Then I did what any sane person would after a hard day¡¯s work. I went back to my room to test the results. The results were good, not great, but I felt the improvements myself. The super brain improved my thinking ability. The logic that used to seem distant and convoluted straightened somewhat and the definitions that I had to read repeatedly became easier to read.


    The same chapter of the physics book that I couldn¡¯t get through after staying up for two hours a day before, I finished it all in one and a half hours and I was fairly happy with myself.


    Still, not everything was great. The superpower consumed a lot of power. I stopped studying not because I grew tired. Who grows tired of their new toy so easily? I still hadn¡¯t tested the limits of my improved brain. I stopped studying because I was hungry. It gnawed at my stomach. My first power, Disguise, also had such an effect and so did this one. I could see an endless pattern developing. In which I was in a constant and unwinnable race with my ever-growing energy needs.


    Not only did I feel hungry, I also started to develop a headache. Thankfully, I had learned from my past mistakes and didn¡¯t overwork myself. My mother would have been convinced that I was doing drugs after seeing my insatiable hunger and maniac behavior otherwise.


    The hunger I displayed though still surprised both my parents, as I not only ate twice as much, I even asked for some late-night snacks, which got me booted off the dinner table. Even Abhey paid close attention to me with his eyes all squinted and brows all frowned. Who knew what kind of creepy plan brewed behind his glowing dark brown eyes?


    Besides, he still hadn¡¯t let up about my suddenly improved skin texture. He kept asking me about it yesterday while I was teaching him. I say teaching, but I barely provided input. He was not just a fool with a loud mouth, I realized yesterday. I somehow got rid of him by announcing my awesomeness to puberty and hormonal change, and he not having been through puberty yet couldn¡¯t come up with a retort. I know he had only settled down for now. I was sure he¡¯d be back with more questions about it after brushing up his knowledge on goggle. I was not too worried about him though. It was not like I¡¯d become a white person overnight. I planned to tell him to drink more water and stay hydrated if pestered me about it.


    Another so-called weakness of the super brain was that although it improved my intelligence and hence made it easier to understand difficult concepts¡­ slightly. My memory retention remained the same. Meaning, that although I studied for almost two hours, I only retained a few things from the stuff I studied. I was already forgetting some of it by the time night came around. And I didn¡¯t remember any of the problems I solved. I mean I could tell I had solved it but when I looked at the question in the morning, my mind came up blank.


    So, when the clock struck midnight, I did what any sane person would do. I wished for a superpower that would improve my memory. This was the third time I was wishing for a superpower from the system, but the experience was still as novel as it was the second time. The first time was all too confusing and disjointing. Thankfully, I was now used to it enough that I didn¡¯t scream out in hysteria like last night.


    I also realized after my first two attempts that I didn¡¯t need to specify the superpower I required. I only needed to provide a description of sorts and the system could take over the rest. I also realized that the power given by the system was of the lowest denominator. Such that even if I had asked for the power to manipulate fire, it might only allow me to move fire with my hands or mind instead of conjuring it out of nothing.


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    [The Daily superpower system has heard your wish!]


    [Photographic memory is an excellent tool that can¡¯t just help you exceed in your studies, but save everything and anything that you see in your daily life in varied detail.]


    [Task level: E]


    [Win a game of card matching at a hard level without any external aid.]


    [Would you like to accept the task to acquire the ability? Yes/No]


    The task was simpler than the last two. I presumed so. Thinking back, all three tasks so far have been simple and easy to complete. Be it breaking the mirror or helping my brother with this homework. There was nothing tedious about either of the tasks. Though they had profound after-effects on my life.


    A card-matching game I found was a game in which you have a 2x2 or more grid of cards laid face down on a surface. The computer randomly flips them over once so you can remember which cards are laid where so when it¡¯s your turn you can match cards. And only when matching cards are flipped do you score otherwise, all the cards flip over once again and you have to start over. You win when all the cards are successfully matched.


    At hard level, I was given a ten-by-ten grid of cards that flashed their faces all at once for a couple of seconds before turning over. It was a hard game to win. By the time, I completed the task it was already three of clock in the morning! I didn¡¯t test the superpower out of fear that I wouldn¡¯t be able to sleep later. I was also exhausted by then. It proved to be the right decision because when I woke up in the morning my life changed for the worse.


    The system wasn¡¯t kidding when it said I would remember every detail I saw in varied detail. I believe there is a filter in our brain that removes the useless memories and only keeps that which it deems important. Memories that have strong emotions associated with them. Your first love; the most delicious meal of your life; your first time riding a bike at 100km/hr; that day your mother slapped you. Things like that. Some people practice hard to adjust that filter so they can remember the world better. The superpower completely removed the filter.


    Although it was only a memory of everything that I saw, when you remember everything to the littlest detail it quickly becomes a burden on your brain. Especially when you also have a super brain working in the background. Thankfully, I only retained the visual memories and not the audible or sensory data of my daily life.


    So came the sunglasses. My mother had a few words to say about my choice and so did my brother. He called me a show-off. As if he knew the meaning of that word! If my mother only jokingly thought I was taking drugs before, then now her delusion had evidential backing. It was one of the memories from that morning that I remember with clarity. The anguish and disappointment in her eyes had never been so clear and hateful. The anger on her nose and her clenched fists; I¡¯m sure she had called my father after we left home and told him her positively certain train of thoughts and ratted me out as an addict.


    Even though I wasn¡¯t taking any kind of drugs, the so-called proofs suggested that I was.


    The glasses were a panacea but not the solution. I needed to get rid of the skill. I asked the system and it told me in clear words that it was impossible with its silence. Since the system was no help. I decided to take the matter into my own hands and decided that when midnight strikes, I would ask for a superpower limiter that would block a specific power while the limiter was active, and working, I didn¡¯t know whether it would work, but I had full confidence in the system. That was how I deceived myself.


    Now my head felt like it was gonna explode and to top it all, I was feeling hungry. This thing was very power-hungry too. The pattern was clearer than ever. Superpowers were good, but if each of them were gonna take a limited amount of energy from my body then I needed to find a way to absorb energy from food, from the environment, faster, because my body¡¯s natural absorption was already feeling stressed. It was either that or I kept munching power bars every hour. The latter was impossible. It was a money problem. I didn¡¯t have an allowance. My parents didn¡¯t believe in it.


    There weren¡¯t only downsides to the superpower. Not only did photographic memory improve my knowledge retention and improved my learning capability by over 100%, it also made it easier for me to disguise myself. Being able to remember everything, I no longer needed to carry a reference photo with me. What photo did I need when my mind was the clearest mirror in existence?


    That was not all. I looked at my test paper that the teacher had just returned. The result could be imagined. After a year of failure, for the first time since I entered high school, I passed a test.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t believe it,¡± Kartik said staring at my paper. Clenching it, so hard he was crumpling the sides of the paper. ¡°How did you do it? You are not only getting more handsome by the day but also starting to wake up academically. Did something happen? Is it love?¡±


    I scoffed at the idea of it. ¡°Do you think someone could fall in love with me?¡±


    He looked me up and down and said, ¡°The old you? No way,¡±


    I punched him playfully in the chest. He grabbed my hand and started laughing. ¡°I¡¯m joking man. Why be so serious? But on that note ¨C what do you think about her?¡± He said gesturing behind me.


    I looked back and saw Sonam looking toward us. She panicked when our eyes met and looked away in a hurry as if that would make a difference.


    ¡°Is there something going on between you two?¡± Kartik whispered in my ears.


    ¡°Hell if I know what¡¯s wrong with her,¡± I said after turning back to face him.


    ¡°You might not get another chance you know? She might be interested in you today, but who knows whom she¡¯ll be interested in tomorrow? I think you should strike it while the iron¡¯s hot. Leave an impression on her that she can¡¯t forget.¡± The devil whispered.


    I took a breath and got up from the seat.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Kartik jumped after me. ¡°Are you really going to ask her?¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯m going to get you some water. You need to cool down, man. Geez.¡±


    I did say that but inside I knew he was right. If I wanted to do something, I had to do it now. No point crying over spilled water. Unfortunately, even the superpowers weren¡¯t good enough to boost my confidence enough to jump over the line. Besides, I didn¡¯t think I was ready to fall for someone again so quickly after last time. Anjali was still on my mind, heart, and soul. My mind was still a prison and I was still its captive. Nothing had changed.

 Ch-7: Oct-4-Limiter

    A whole day of headache and nausea can make anyone cranky. I was but a wee bit boy of eighteen summers, where did I have the wisdom to control my emotions?


    By the time I got home, my brain was boiling and I was running short on patience. When patience goes down, tempers go up. Which perhaps, made my Ma think I was being stubborn.


    ¡°Why are you wearing sunglasses in the house?¡±


    ¡°He wants to be a hero,¡± Abhey said.


    Do all the bullies have the same mental demons living in their minds? I couldn¡¯t say, but he reminded me of my jolly class fellows. I bet they would have liked him too.


    ¡°You want to be an actor?¡± My ma said throwing the apron on the side. ¡°I have one role available. You play it. The movie is called Maid and you are the main character. In the first scene, you pick up the apron, wear it down, then go to the kitchen and wash the dishes. How does that sound to you?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a good one, ma.¡± The son and mother pair had a laughing fit. The cacophony of which made my ears buzz and my head ring. Or was supposed to be head buzz and ears ring? I couldn¡¯t make which one was which over the headache.


    I had enough of their antics. ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± I told my mother and threw my school bag on the sofa. Then I sat down on the sofa with my head in my hands. I had a headache, a brutal pulsating migraine that was making me weak in my knees and I told her the same.


    She didn¡¯t believe me.


    ¡°You won¡¯t do the dishes?¡± Ma said in a grave tone that pierced my brain like a nail in my ear.


    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± I said in stubbornness. I was cranky and my temper was rising. But I forgot that my mother had no problem picking up the stick if push comes to shove.


    We glared at each other. I saw in great detail the image of my mother¡¯s face turning red and yellow. I closed my eyes when the nausea permeated, but the image was already printed in my head and it kept playing over and over again like a flip book. The quality of my photo retention was still not good enough to create a seamless video, but my brain had no problem playing a choppy 10 fps clip of just her face in all of its brutal glory.


    It was the last feather that fell before the dam broke. I heaved and retched. Something warm rose from my stomach and came spurting out of my mouth. I got on my knees right there by the sofa and turned into a clogged-up fountain turning on after years of negligence. I sounded like I was trying to vomit my guts out. There were gasps and screams around me. I presumed I had vomited on my mother or my brother. I was sorry if it was the former and thought it was deserving if it was the latter.


    Thankfully, I didn¡¯t lose consciousness. Otherwise, I would have fallen on my vomit too and Abhey would have had another priceless picture of me covered in grim to torture me with. Not like he didn¡¯t record my episode. I was sure he probably did.


    ¡°What happened? Are you ill? Get up, don¡¯t fall in that. Sit on the sofa. Do you need water?¡± My mother said like a broken record. She does this whenever she panics. She was tough but tended to crumble under pressure. Like today, once she realized I was actually sick, her behavior did a 180, and then it was Abhey¡¯s turn to get shoved around.


    ¡°Abhey bring a glass of water.¡±


    ¡°But Ma,¡±


    ¡°Abhey,¡± She didn¡¯t tell him twice and he was on his feet going toward the kitchen. I could hear him muttering something on the way. He was out of earshot and I couldn¡¯t hear him clearly, but I knew from experience there was nothing good coming out of his damned mouth.


    ¡°Was it something you ate? Or took?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t do drugs, ma!¡± I shouted and then groaned. I really needed to limit or block this photographic memory because this was not cutting it.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything.¡± My ma whispered. It felt like a silent complaint.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a junkie ma.¡± I cried out. I wanted to be alone. I stood up, trying to get away from her.


    ¡°But,¡± She grabbed my sleeve.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say anything.¡± I freed myself from her hand and stumbled toward my brother. I took the glass of water from his hand and walked to the sink to gargle the taste of stomach acid out of my mouth. I drank the rest of the water, left the glass on the sink, and walked away from them.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± My ma asked behind me.


    ¡°To my room,¡± I said, and this time, she didn¡¯t try to stop me.


    I got to my room using the walls for directions. I didn¡¯t dare open my eyes and let the superpower bombard me with more information. I closed the door behind me; and fell on my bed and dove under the blanket, to hide from the world. It worked somewhat. The darkness helped, but my room wasn¡¯t completely silent. I could hear my mother talking to Abhey in the distance. Their voice echoed in the house. They weren¡¯t obnoxiously loud. Their voice was a droning sound that you hear when the sound is coming from a distant source. It was enough of a distraction to pull me out of sleep. Forcing my brain to wonder, think, and worry about their conversation.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the door opened and the heavy footsteps of my mother stopped by my bedside.


    ¡°Get up. Take the medicine. You¡¯ll feel better.¡± I heard from under the blanket.


    Taking a deep breath I asked, ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Something to settle your stomach,¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need it.¡± I wasn¡¯t lying. I didn¡¯t vomit because I had the flu or something. ¡°It¡¯s just my head is a bit muddled.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get you a Saridon tablet. Get up and take this one first.¡± Her voice was full of concern and pleading.


    I waited, not because I wanted to see if she¡¯d go away. I just needed time to settle my thoughts a little. Then I got up and got the steel glass of water from her hand. It was cold and heavy, like our relationship.


    I picked the classic green tablet from her other hand and then closed my eyes. I didn¡¯t want too much stimulation. I just wanted to go back under the quiet of my blanket.


    ¡°Do you have a fever?¡± She touched my head and whispered in worry. ¡°You are so hot. Do you want to go to the doctor?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I jerked my head away from her hand in a hurry as if a second more and she¡¯d figure out the lie. ¡°Just let me get some rest,¡± I said in some panic. ¡°I would love a saridon though.¡±


    I didn¡¯t hear her leave and I wasn¡¯t planning to open my eyes to see.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Are you going to watch me take the medicine?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s so very nice of you.¡± I took the tablet, drank half the glass of water, and kept the rest so I could take the other one too.


    She nodded ¨CI know because she made this hmm sound that she makes when she¡¯s nodding sometimes-- and left the room for a while before returning with the coin-sized Saridon tablet and a Paracetamol. That was a lot of over-the-counter drugs taken in a short period. Even junkies aren¡¯t that stupid. I guess being muddleheaded made me more courageous than them.


    I pushed the thought away. Took the medicine and fell back onto my bed and under the blanket. Away from light and noise.


    ¡°Close the door on your way out,¡± My heart beat rose after saying that. Reprimanded many times for doing the same without permission, I felt like I had stolen a small win from my ma when I heard the door close.


    My mind was thinking about too many things and I couldn¡¯t sleep. So I spent most of the time wondering about the system. Why I had received it and what I should do with it.


    I asked the system if it was there, it remained unresponsive as if it didn¡¯t exist. I wouldn¡¯t even know it existed if it wasn¡¯t for the reminder, the headache. Most people look to God for answers when something bad happens to them. I was no different. I was just paranoid enough to question the occurrence of everything whether good or bad. And I didn¡¯t question God, I questioned myself.


    The system was the right amount of good and bad for me to freak out over. I had seen both good and bad and knew it was not a normal thing to get chosen by the system.


    I wasn¡¯t perfect, but I knew my shortcomings. Even though I was harassed in my younger years, a few people stood up for me and helped me out during bad times. I understood that good and bad coexist in this world. I appreciated the good more because of all the bad that had happened to me. But who was to say I wouldn¡¯t use the power to eliminate the bad all together? After all, power changes people.


    For now, I had no plans of world domination. I simply wanted that power to limit all powers and then I planned to improve my endurance so my body could store more energy. To store more energy faster, I needed faster absorption of food and nutrients. Our body takes 3-6 hours to digest the food, which was not enough for me. I was also looking for an alternate source of energy. Sunlight was one. I was worried the superpower would turn my skin green like Piccolo. Though, I could always disguise myself to look human. However, I didn¡¯t know if disguise would work since it wouldn¡¯t let me turn my skin green like Hulk.


    I also wanted to find a way to level up the powers because I wasn¡¯t getting better at them with use.


    It was hard to lay on the bed unable to sleep. Twisting and turning on the bed, wondering. Before long it was evening. I knew because my dad came back from work. I heard him talking to my mother through the walls and then he came over to ask about my health. He wanted to take me to a doctor. I told him I was fine. I just needed rest. At night, my mother made me a special sick people¡¯s meal, rice porridge. It made me laugh out crying. Here, I was hoping to juice up on the calories so I could study later when I put a limiter on photographic memory. There, my mother was feeding me low low-calorie, high-protein meal that was easier on the stomach. Her intentions were good, but this meal wasn¡¯t gonna cut it.


    I fought with my ma over it, but it was to no avail.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you I¡¯m fine,¡± I told her. ¡°I can eat! Let me eat real food.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps you should open your eyes before you say that. Otherwise, I won¡¯t believe you.¡± She blocked all my roads of escape and I could only do as was told.


    I left my brother snickering at the dinner table, picked up my bowl of porridge, and went back to my room. I didn¡¯t forget to abuse my short-found privilege by closing the door before sighing and going to bed. I didn¡¯t dare slam the door. I didn¡¯t want to overdo it.


    The porridge was not bad. It wasn¡¯t tasteless. It just wasn¡¯t flavorful. My ma has a knack for bringing out the natural flavor of the pulses and vegetables. My Dad¡¯s also cooked for us sometimes at night but he couldn¡¯t do that. They aren¡¯t even in the same realm in terms of cooking. Maybe I¡¯d learn how to cook in time and surprise them all¡­ and perhaps then I wouldn¡¯t have to eat porridge when I get sick. Until then, I had to make do with this. I sighed and slowly ate spoonfuls of the porridge until the bowl was as empty as my heart.


    Soon it was midnight. I¡¯m joking. It took its sweet ass time to arrive. I got so bored of waiting I almost wanted to get up and play a PC game or something. Sadly, I couldn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t want to puke my guts out. I get motion sickness from playing video games. Not all of them, but when the setting gets dark and repetitive, my mind starts spinning and I start feeling sick. Sometimes it takes an hour, sometimes just a few minutes.


    [The Daily superpower system has heard your wish!]


    [Limiter is a power that can allow you to limit your senses and abilities. The number of senses and abilities that can be limited depends entirely upon the skill level. So don¡¯t forget to improve the levels of your superpowers. The powers hide various surprises that will only unlock if your skill level reaches the optimal level.]


    [Task level: F]


    [Limit all of your senses for a moment.]


    [Would you like to accept the task to acquire the ability? Yes/No]


    ¡°What kind of a description is that? Are you calling me lazy? Brother if I knew how to improve my powers I would have already. At least give me a clue! Don¡¯t act all mysterious like God.¡±


    The system didn¡¯t respond to my query/complaint. It only burned brighter as if telling me to stop wasting time and choose. I chose yes. Of course! This time the task level was even lower than the previous ones. I thought the task levels would increase as my number of powers increased. I guess¡­ not.


    The task seemed easy, but completing it seemed troublesome. Was it even humanly possible to limit all of your senses? I guessed if I could take a cold bath then perhaps. Still, taking a bath in the middle of the night didn¡¯t seem appropriate. It was possible our neighbors would think someone in our family was doing black magic. That stigma was hard to erase once given.


    It was also still the month of October; the tap water was still lukewarm. I would need ice, lots of it. Or just enough to numb my skin for a moment. Well whatever it takes, I¡¯d have to wait till morning to try it. Or my mother would skin me alive. I also wondered if I should just receive the tasks in the morning. There was no point in wasting sleep hours when I couldn¡¯t even complete them in the night.


    Sighing, I stopped thinking about it. With the system unresponsive, sleep came quickly this time. I didn¡¯t even have time to worry about what I would do if the cold shower didn¡¯t work.


    Before I knew it, the alarm was ringing. I woke up to a surprise. The task was automatically completed overnight.


    ¡°The answer was sleep?¡± I couldn¡¯t believe it. ¡°No wonder it was an F-level task.¡±

 Ch-8: Oct-4-

    ¡°What are you studying?¡±


    The slightly old, slightly warm voice broke my reverie. I looked up and saw one of the older female teachers talking to me. Too engrossed in my thoughts, I had no idea when she sat down along with us.


    ¡°Some chemistry,¡±


    ¡°Do you have a test,¡± She asked. She was keeping a neutral face, impossible to read or dissect for thoughts.


    ¡°No,¡± I shook my head partially to convey the message and partially to shake the thought out of my head. ¡°I¡¯m revising. Trying to catch up with the rest of the class.¡±


    ¡°Huh, that¡¯s good.¡± She said nodding and ended the conversation without feeling the need to tell me why. She simply turned away and started talking to another female teacher of the same age sitting across from her.


    I glanced at her one last time to see if she was going to bother me again and then turned back to my notes. The notes weren¡¯t mine. I had borrowed them from Kartik. Arrogant as he seemed he was very devoted to his studies. At least he had not failed a single test since we started the class. I wouldn¡¯t say he ranked at the top of the pile, but he never slipped much from the middle. At least he wouldn¡¯t have any problem getting into a good enough state college. Whether he could get into a national level or international level college was up to debate.


    As for me, I was trying out my new and improved photographic memory. With the limiter working, it no longer bothered me with a flood of unstoppable information needling into my brain. The limiter was like an on-off switch that I could flip at a moment¡¯s notice. It didn¡¯t have an intensity regulator, however. So I couldn¡¯t control the powers with it as I liked. I believed higher skill levels would solve that problem.


    Even limited, Photographic memory wasn¡¯t devoid of problems. The skill was still not precise enough to capture and record all the information on the page in one glance. It was a concentration problem. Because it was humanly impossible to concentrate on more than a word at a time, it still took me a considerable amount of time to get through a page. Leading to increased energy consumption, memory deterioration, and overall mental fatigue. Photographic memory, I realized, was just not enough for regular use.


    Despite all the limitations, I would still say that I did a good job acquiring the power because I¡¯d read and memorized almost ten pages in the last hour of our bus travel. Which was an impossible task for the current super brain. I didn¡¯t understand the knowledge, but with it already imprinted in my brain I could always think about it later and slowly try to make it my own using super brain. These two powers turned active studying into passive reading. But this was not enough. I, in my inflated ego, still thought it was wasteful of my time to try to read every word on the page to memorize it. There had to be a better way to learn knowledge than reading books.


    Growing up as a kid, I used to watch this fictional show about an alien impersonating a human who could read books by simply touching them to his head. It used to fascinate me as a kid not having to study anything. Now, knowing that it might be possible to replicate that power, I started to fantasize about having all that knowledge stored in my brain. I would become an academic monster if I managed to achieve that.


    As for my energy needs ¨C I had a big breakfast almost twice as much as I regularly did and packed lunch for the first time since I joined the school. I usually ate junk food from the canteen instead. I also regretted that there was no actual canteen in our school with an all you could eat buffet. The way my powers consumed energy, I was sure it wouldn¡¯t be long before my energy consumption would reach ten thousand calories per day or even more. A normal human barely expends 2000 cal per day. Imagine how much food I would need to consume to fulfill my calorie needs. It scared me a little.


    Perhaps figuring out how to absorb so much food wasn¡¯t the only problem I would face in the future. I would also need to find out a way to procure the food because my parents didn¡¯t have the financial capacity to fulfill my needs. So now moneymaking was also on my agenda.


    I closed the book and looked around. The bus was a standard-size school bus, but it carried more students than seats available. Hence, not everyone got a seat. Sometimes people had to stand on their way to school. Which was considered normal considering overbooking was the norm where I lived. At least the school bus wasn¡¯t packed full like most commercial buses running the routes.


    I looked around and saw a sea of students. Creating a clamor that was hard to parse. All the voices melded together to create a garbled language that I found quite soothing. It made me forget my worries for a while.


    Accidentally, I saw Arzoo looking at me. She passed me a smile when our sights crossed, which made me remember that now I needed to apologize to her for my behavior at the grocery store.


    There really was no break for the wicked.


    Abhey tapped my shoulder and saw him holding a mocking smile upon tuning my head his way.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think about it.¡± He said cryptically.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t act stupid you know what I mean.¡±


    ¡°Why,¡± I asked while wondering about a thought that had been blooming in the back of my head for some time. ¡°Am I blocking your interests?¡±


    He snorted and turned away. I realized I had hit the nail right on the head.


    ¡°She''s older than you,¡± I said.


    ¡°So?¡± He said without looking over. As if he didn¡¯t care to have this conversation.


    ¡°By three years my little brother!¡± He didn¡¯t say anything. Perhaps, Kartik could have made fun of him but I couldn¡¯t. I only felt concerned, for the girl. My pig brother was in love.


    ¡°So you like older girls, huh.¡±


    Finally, he turned and faced me. Keeping a deadpan face, he stared at me with startling, unblinking eyes.


    ¡°What?¡± I muttered in unease.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say another word or I¡¯ll share the recording with everyone.¡±


    I agreed with a nod. I didn¡¯t even dare to say yes. He once threw a 10 kg hard rubber gym plate at my head just because he was annoyed at me. Who knew what he¡¯d do if he got mad?


    It took the bus an hour and a half to run the route and get to school. Most of that time was wasted waiting for the students to come out of their homes. We didn¡¯t wait long, but those two or three minutes added up. That was why housing societies around schools and colleges were so high in demand. We lived in a government-allotted quarter, however, far away from the school. So we had to wake up at dawn with the birds.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Still, we were in school by 8:00 am. The classes start at 8:30, giving everyone plenty of time to do their things. Everyone usually gets there by the time the bells ring. Anyone late to class was only late for the morning prayer, not for the class itself. That was mainly because almost everyone commode to school via the school bus. As for the school environment, it was calm, and inviting. Nor too sporadic, nor too slow. Everything there happened at its own pace.


    That day, the only note-worthy incident happened during our chemistry session.


    We were in the chemistry lab and I was sitting next to Sonam. She couldn¡¯t hold her smile for some reason or another. I didn¡¯t give myself the credit. I was self-conscious like that. Perhaps, a bit too much.


    Our chemistry teacher, a tall man from the Sikh community, Mr. Balraj, was not only teaching us but also testing our knowledge to see if we were smart enough to handle the experiment. The experiment in question was a simple exothermic reaction in which two chemicals upon mixing would react and release heat and energy. This was our teacher¡¯s way of demonstrating the dangers and allure of the subject. Even though we had already handled chemicals like concentrated hydrogen chloride and hydrogen sulfate in the past. I guess he wanted something with a bit of pizzazz for this round.


    I only knew about this because of the things I¡¯d read in the morning. I had already digested the knowledge over the day. Now I was through the twenty-fifth of the chemistry book. Which was a bit slow, said the boy who hadn¡¯t read a single page in the past five months.


    The experiment and the test proceeded calmly. Soon it was my turn to answer the questions. Usually, I would be a little scared of our teacher because we had our differences. That day I was feeling confident, as long he asked me questions from those twenty-five pages I¡¯d read.


    There was one time when he was teaching and I was goofing around in class. Like any, self-respecting teacher, Mr. Balraj, had stood me up and asked me a few questions to show the importance of studying. Being an academic pariah I was back then, I couldn¡¯t even answer the chemical formula of ammonia. He asked me how I would pass without studying and I had the gal of coming out on top and saying that I would study on my own. He asked me to sit down and I thought nothing of it. For me, it was only a short burst of anger, a momentary release of tension. But I guess he felt ashamed because he called my parents to school.


    He didn¡¯t even tell me about it. I only found out when my father called me out at home and asked me about it. He asked me how I would feel if someone disrespected him like that in front of others. Only then did I understand that my burst of anger had far-reaching consequences. I in my foolishness had challenged our chemistry teacher¡¯s authority and even dealt damage to the boss-level character. I hadn¡¯t just talked back to him, I had stood against him. I remember fearing for my life for the next couple of days every time Mr, Balraj came to teach. However, nothing happened. He simply ignored me.


    Now we were on slightly bad terms, not completely at odds but always wary of each other. I wasn¡¯t a ruffian who didn¡¯t know his limits. I realized I made a mistake, but my pride wouldn¡¯t let me apologize to him. So I made sure to stay out of his way. Now here we were, separated by ten feet, with our fists clenched and sights unwavering. This was a standoff, but only he had the gun and I could only dodge or die.


    I¡¯m joking.


    ¡°What are the properties of potassium chloride?¡± He fired the first bullet


    I shrugged it off. ¡°It¡¯s a metal halide salt of potassium and chlorine. It has a white or colorless vitreous crystal appearance. It dissolves easily in water and the solution has a salt-like taste.¡±


    Seeing that it didn¡¯t do the trick, he pulled out a bigger gun. ¡°How do we separate chlorine gas from potassium chloride?¡±


    I hide behind a slab of concrete to survive that. ¡°We can react iodine with potassium chloride which results in potassium iodide and chlorine gas.¡±


    ¡°What happens to potassium chloride when you heat it?¡± He aimed the gun and fired two consecutive shots. ¡°What is the principal behind our experiment today?¡±


    As if they could stop me.


    ¡°We are showing off,¡± I said. The class laughed. I didn¡¯t see him expressing any emotions or trying to stop me. So I continued once the laughter died some. ¡°How something small like a gummy bear, which is sugar, can contain a large amount of energy.¡± The class listened quietly.


    I looked around and saw some gleaming eyes staring at me, but the teacher showed no such reaction.


    ¡°Sit down¡± was his only response to my passionate speech. Then he started explaining the experiment.


    ¡°Have you started studying again?¡± Sonam asked me.


    ¡°What do you mean? I never stopped.¡±


    ¡°Liar,¡± She smiled and turned back toward our teacher to listen to the explanation. A sunflower indeed she was.


    ¡°What you are going to do is, you are going to take exactly ten grams of potassium chloride and heat it up. When heat, which is energy, is provided to a stable system it induces instability to it. In this case, it will cause the stable potassium chloride to transform into potassium perchlorate, in which some extra oxygen molecules will become attached to the salt. This molten form of potassium will then try to retain its stable state by releasing the extra oxygen.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you call a bad relationship.¡± Someone muttered loudly, causing some muffled giggles among the girls.


    Our teacher continued unabated. ¡°This type of reaction is called an Exothermic reaction, meaning,¡±


    ¡°It releases heat,¡± The class echoed in unity.


    ¡°And when we introduce a gummy bear to this solution, the sugar in the gummy bear goes rapid oxidation forming carbon dioxide, water, and heat. And this is what the result will look like,¡± Mr Balraj said dropping a gummy bear with a tong into the beaker with the molten potassium.


    Instantly there was a bright flare in the beaker before the gummy bear started melting, reacting with oxygen and releasing a bright purple flame and a lot of smoke.


    Our teacher stepped back for safety and that proved to be necessary as I don¡¯t know if the beaker was too old or it was faulty, but a few seconds later the beaker exploded! The girls sitting too close to it screamed and ran. Even Sonam sitting next to me gasped and I guess she also got scared because she grabbed my hand. The others stood up to watch the drama, while I sat there stunned and looking at her.


    Thankfully, our teacher didn¡¯t panic. He knew how to handle the fire and stopped the reaction by throwing a jug full of water at it.


    ¡°All right, that''s enough chemistry for today. Go back to your class.¡± Mr. Balraj said and everyone started leaving.


    It was only then did Sonam realized that she was holding my hand. She looked at my face and then at my hand, before quietly releasing me and walking away.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I went after her, but she didn¡¯t stop to hear whatever I had to say. I didn¡¯t push it either. I had nothing to say actually. I could barely muster a thought over my beating heart.


    Kartik nudged me on the shoulder, a meaningful grin plastered across his face. ¡°Now you know she¡¯s interested in you. At least she thinks you are trustworthy. She wouldn¡¯t have held your hand otherwise. So¡­ what are you going to do now my friend?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t answer. What if I was like oxygen to her potassium chloride? I didn¡¯t have the heart to be in another unstable relationship in the heat of the moment. Only to get released by her so she could find some stability in life.

 Ch-9: Oct-5-Furnace

    ¡°You are up to something, aren''t you?¡± My mother asked suddenly.


    I jumped up in fright and told her that it was nothing. She didn¡¯t believe me. She wouldn¡¯t be my mother if she did.


    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me.¡± She glared at me with her big brown eyes. ¡°Tell me, did you do something at school? Are your teachers going to call us again?¡±


    ¡°There is nothing going on, Ma!¡± I shouted. It did nothing but make her angrier.


    ¡°You better be right, or you learn to cook. I¡¯m not feeding a rascal son.¡± She said and walked away with heavy stomping footsteps.


    ¡°I can¡¯t talk to you at all!¡± I shouted behind her, but she was already gone by then.


    It took me a while to calm my heart. My mother was too perceptive. She had the senses of a cat and the anger of one. You bug her some and she slaps the shit out of you until you run away. I wasn¡¯t planning something insidious. It was my latest task. Last night, I asked the system for a power that could help me absorb food faster and this was the result.


    [The Daily superpower system has heard your wish!]


    [Furnace is an excellent superpower that passively improves your ability to break down all kinds of organic and inorganic substances be it food or cement. You can eat it all. Beware: the power is only as strong as your body.]


    [Task level: E]


    [Make your mother disgust you at the dinner table.]


    [Would you like to accept the task to acquire the ability? Yes/No]


    It was still an E-level task and the system was back to its usual antics. After finessing my brother, now it was asking me to collide wits with my mother. Why did it want me to do that? Did it want me to become estranged from my mother? What would it get out of it? My mother was already against me. I didn¡¯t want to antagonize her even more. I even thought of giving up the task. But I needed this superpower.


    Perhaps, that was exactly what the system wanted to see: if I could beg and fight for my desires, if I could be selfish.


    I thought hard and long thinking about the task and its consequences. I only went to sleep after making a decision. I decided to do it. I needed this superpower. There was no way around it.


    I tried to go for it in the morning, but my mother didn¡¯t even listen to me and stopped cooking after making the usual breakfast. What could I do? Fight with her? She would have made me fast for the rest of the day. Besides, I had a bus to catch in the morning. Usually, we only had a small five to ten-minute window to finish breakfast. We missed that and we had to take our breakfast to go and finish it on the bus.


    I had been eagerly waiting all day for school to end so I could come home and finish the task. But my mother caught me before I even started.


    I stared, glared, fully aware of everything happening in the kitchen, my feet tapping impatiently. I couldn¡¯t wait for her to start cooking. Even Rani had the same thoughts. She patiently sat on the doormat, blocking the kitchen door. She was hungry and this was her way of showing it.


    The staple food in our house was chapatti and dal-sabji.


    A chapatti is a round flatbread that takes just a couple of minutes to bake on a flat iron pan. And even less if you are as proficient as my mother. Each chapatti contains around one hundred to one fifty calories depending upon the weight and size of it.


    My mother baked them on the heavier side. I usually only ate two of them at a time. Lately, I had been eating four in turn, making it a seven to eight-hundred-calorie meal. The result of this was starting to become visible around my waist.


    My mother started cooking and I hurriedly went inside the kitchen to quietly fill a bowl of curd. There was no distinct odor of the cooked food in the air. So I couldn¡¯t prepare for what she had cooked. My face fell when I saw the sabji in the pot. It was radish, cooked with spices in water until it became a bitter somewhat sweet paste. This was gonna be a problem. I didn¡¯t like radish, neither the taste nor the texture of it. I glared at my mother. She was working as usual, kneading the dough from wheat flour, ignoring me. I knew she did it deliberately. This was her way of taking her anger out on me. I understood it, but really¡­ radish. Yuck.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t there something else?¡± I pleaded. I feared I would fail the task otherwise. ¡°What about the beans we ate last night?¡±


    ¡°Your father took them to the office for lunch.¡± My mother said calmly. Her voice was plain and uninterested.


    ¡°Then¡­ then¡­ yes, what about the dal fry you made a couple of days ago.¡± I was scraping the bottom of the barrel with this one.


    My mother let out a snort. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you have made something else?¡± I let out with a groan. ¡°Did you have to make radish? You know I don¡¯t like it.¡±


    Suddenly she stopped kneading the dough and I hurriedly stepped out of her attack zone. ¡°There are other people in this house.¡± She said glancing over her shoulder. ¡°You are not the only one who eats here.¡±


    ¡°And he calls me choosy,¡± Abhey taunted me from behind.


    I glared at him. He ignored it with a snort before coming into the kitchen. I saw him eyeing my plate and picked it up before he could. He clicked his tongue and pulled another from the rack. He took whatever he wanted in whatever quantity and left the kitchen. Leaving me stranded with a temperate volcano.


    ¡°You want something else?¡± My mother said cleaning up the kitchen slab after herself.


    ¡°Hmph,¡± I picked up my plate, put some of that radish on it, and left the kitchen. I stared at the gooey, thick yellow paste that was the radish and wondered how I was going to get past this.


    I tried to hype myself up.


    You can do this, I told myself. It doesn¡¯t matter if you eat five or ten more. She¡¯s your mother. If you are hungry she¡¯ll feed you. But the more I spoke and heard my voice in my head, the more I felt like it wouldn¡¯t work. I needed help and so I turned to Abhey. The things you do for power.


    ¡°You like radishes?¡± I asked him, hoping for a response. He didn¡¯t bat a rat ass. So I had to continue my single play and play the instruments alone.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think it tastes like plastic? I mean it also grows under the ground but it¡¯s completely shit compared to its cousins, carrot and daikon. Carrots are sweet, while daikon has a citreous and tangy flavor that works well for it as a pickle. But a radish is both sweet and sour. It just tastes bitter in my opinion.¡±


    Abhey sighed. ¡°Ma¡¯s, right.¡± He looked over. ¡°You are acting weird today. What do you want?¡±


    I ignored the question and carried on with my quest. ¡°Let¡¯s have a competition. Let¡¯s see who can eat more today.¡±


    ¡°Why? I thought you didn¡¯t like radish.¡± He looked uninterested. But when had he ever shown interest in anything other than mocking me?


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly why,¡± I said excitedly in fake, deliberate, overacted excitement. I almost slammed my hands on the table but checked myself at the last moment. ¡°I don¡¯t want ma to make radish ever again.¡±


    ¡°But I like it,¡± Abhey ate a spoonful with relish. ¡°So good,¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll help with your homework,¡±


    Abhey chuckled. ¡°No thanks,¡±


    ¡°What can I do to make it up to you?¡± I needed this superpower. No matter the cost. So I begged.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    He didn¡¯t look interested at first but then his sharp mind thought of something sinister and a smile grew on his face, a scheming, vile smile. ¡°Anything?¡±


    My brows furrowed in worry. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Give me your laptop.¡± It was a headshot.


    ¡°What?¡± I said, followed it with a barely audible no. I desperately shook my head. Anything but that.


    Abhey sat back in the chair with his arms crossed. The smile had grown into an evil grin. ¡°I thought you would do anything. I guess you don¡¯t want to complete. Tch, tch, tch¡­¡±


    ¡°Why do want my laptop?¡± I said in a pleading tone. ¡°That¡¯s the only thing I have left. You have already taken away everything else!¡±


    ¡°I need to share it with one of my class girlfriends.¡± He said innocently as if that wasn¡¯t a bomb drop. ¡°We have a class project. I asked her to join me but she said she doesn¡¯t have a computer. So,¡±


    ¡°So what,¡± Suddenly, I remembered. ¡°Besides, don¡¯t you like Arzoo?¡±


    He looked me up and down, shook his head, and said, ¡°Can¡¯t I like more than one girl?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t retort. And thought maybe I should learn something from him. Between Anjali and Sonam maybe there was no need to choose. Besides, I only had one option. I could continue drowning in the past one-sided hopeless and uninviting relationship, or move on. Anjali had. Perhaps, I should too.


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk while eating,¡± Our mother appeared behind us like a grim reaper. She put five or six chapattis on a plate and asked. ¡°Do you want to do more?¡± She asked because we usually only ate three chapattis at a meal, but I had been eating more for some days.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said and pleaded to my little brother with puppy eyes.


    ¡°What about you?¡± Ma asked Abhey.


    ¡°Do I want to eat more? What do you think?¡± The shady guy was asking for my answer in a disguised way. But there was stuff on my laptop--


    ¡°I guess, it¡¯s enou--¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes! He has to eat. Look at him, how thin he is. People talk you know. They say his mother doesn¡¯t feed him enough.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± My ma got enraged. ¡°Who said it? Tell me and I¡¯ll go invite her to our home for dinner.¡±


    She looked left, glaring at the wall, as if there lived the person whom I was talking about. I wondered if there was a story there. If there was an aunt in our neighborhood who didn¡¯t like my mother.


    I wished for her good health and told my mother, ¡°Don¡¯t worry ma, it¡¯s just some stranger we met on the way. Oh,¡± I look past her at the kitchen. ¡°Can you smell something burning?¡±


    ¡°I can smell it too,¡± Abhey said smelling the air around me before taking two sniffs of my head. ¡°I think it¡¯s your brain.¡±


    I drank the bitter insult down and my mother returned to the kitchen with Rani running after her with her tail wagging. I could almost see her drooling. Then my mother called her inside the kitchen and she ran inside like a bullet escaping the gun.


    ¡°So we are really competing, huh?¡± Abhey said in my ear leaning over.


    ¡°Obviously,¡±


    ¡°All right then. Let¡¯s see who wins.¡± Abhey started making a chapatti roll so he could eat faster.


    I understood his game and instead of following his act, tore half of the roti, put some radish in, dipped it in curd, and then holding my breath --because I didn¡¯t like radish sabji-- took a bite and started chewing. Our sense of smell plays an equally important role in the flavors we taste while eating. So when we hold our breath while eating, it makes it easier to eat unpalatable things. That was what I had heard. I could still taste it though.


    We stared at each other as we chewed. Chewing faster and faster as if we were in a real competition. I found it funny to see Abhey getting riled up. Before we knew it, we had finished the six or seven chapattis and were yelling at our Mother for more.


    ¡°MA, ROTI,¡± Abhey was slightly faster than me. What could I do? He liked the sabji while I abhorred it. We were on two different tracks. So I was bound to lose¡­ the game and my laptop.


    It didn¡¯t take long before our mother came rushing out of the kitchen with four chapattis on a plate. She gave us two each and then asked again. ¡°More?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± We both said at the same time and then started eating like two hungry dogs. For the first time in our lives, we agreed on something.


    ¡°Eat slowly,¡± Ma, chided us. ¡°The food is not going to run away.¡±


    We ignored our mother and started tearing through the task.


    ¡°Idiots both of them,¡± She said on her way back to the kitchen. And while she was still there we had already finished ours.


    ¡°Ma!¡± Abhey said first, grinning from ear to ear. This wasn¡¯t those previous thoughtful, meaningful grins. This smile was genuine, more personal. He was enjoying this competition.


    ¡°Are you boys even chewing them?¡± Ma said running back from the kitchen and by the time she came I had also finished my portion.


    ¡°How much more are you boys going to eat?¡±


    ¡°Just a few more,¡± I said even though we had eaten five each.


    This continued until we had eaten eight each before Abhey raised his hands in surrender and said he¡¯d had enough. I also felt like my stomach was gonna explode, but the task wasn¡¯t over yet. So I couldn¡¯t stop.


    I was groaning and moaning when my mother came out of the kitchen again. This time she was putting the flour back in the fridge. I had difficulty breathing, but I hadn¡¯t completed the task yet.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked her. ¡°I¡¯m not done eating yet.


    ¡°You are.¡± She ordered.


    I sprang up from my seat in a forceful demonstration of something. It was like a bluff in poker. I put all of my acting skills into it, but the bluff seemed too fake, like there was no good reason behind it.


    I stomped my feet on the ground and told her, ¡°I want to eat!¡±


    My mother paid no attention to me. ¡°Have you looked at your face?¡± She said holding the fridge door. ¡°You look like a constipated pig,¡±


    ¡°Pft,¡± Abhey started laughing and crying in pain holding his stomach. ¡°Ma, don¡¯t,¡± He said wheezing and hissing. ¡°It hurts.¡±


    ¡°You are no better than this pig. Humph,¡±


    I saw the situation getting out of my control and seeing no other choice, picked up the plate and threw it on the ground. It was a steel plate; the noise it made was a thunder crackle on a bright sky. ¡°I said I¡¯m not finished eating yet. Are you going to feed me or not?¡±


    Rani started barking instantly. I knew I messed up, but the ship of regrets sailed with the plate hitting the floor. The way back was gone. I could only get to the other side of this turbulent river or drown trying.


    My mother had a short temper. But she didn¡¯t explode this time. She only said, ¡°I have. You can cook yourself if you are not full.¡± then slammed the fridge door closed and started walking toward her room. Even though it was late in the summer, her forehead was still wet from the sweat. It gets pretty hot in our kitchen during cooking, since we don''t have an exhaust system to take the smoke away. She looked tired and in pain, but the system task was still not over yet.


    I felt bad for doing this, but I did it anyway.


    ¡°Then what do we have you for?¡± I scrapped my heart to say it.


    That turned out to be the last nail in the coffin. The system notification rang in my head and the burning words indicating task completion fizzled in and out of existence in front of my eyes.


    I had won yet I only felt disgusted at myself. I went too far. Was it the system changing my mentality or this was the real me? A greedy, self-absorbed, narcissist who only cared about himself? Who only needed a hint of power and self-confidence to come out of its shell?


    In time, I would have the power to change people''s fate with a snap of my finger. What if I couldn¡¯t control myself and used it to destroy half the world¡¯s population to fulfill my whims? Citing it was inevitable.


    My super brain couldn¡¯t answer. It said time would tell. Truthfully, I didn¡¯t want to know.


    While Abhey moaned and groaned beside me, holding his stomach, my latest power, the furnace, quietly started doing its job. Although it didn¡¯t digest everything right away, I could feel my stomach loosening with each passing minute. According to the system, the power improved my digestion ability by 33% at level 1. Where it used to take 6-8 hours to digest a meal, it would now take approximately 4.5-6 hours.


    I took our dirty plates to the kitchen sink and started washing the dishes. I thought that if I washed the dishes and cleaned the floor, my mother would see that I wasn¡¯t an ungrateful bastard. Perhaps, her anger would have calmed down by then. So she would forgive me easily when I apologize.

 Ch-10: Oct-6-Enhanced Endurance

    People forgive easily, but they don¡¯t trust easily. It takes strong actions to earn someone¡¯s trust. And it¡¯s harder to earn it back for the second time.


    ¡°Ma, have you seen my boots?¡±


    ¡°Ma, what about my shorts? I can¡¯t find it.¡±


    ¡°Ma I¡¯m going running. I¡¯ll be late. So don¡¯t make me breakfast.¡±


    My mother didn¡¯t reply once. No matter how I initiated the conversation. She kept ignoring me as if I didn¡¯t exist. I apologized yesterday after washing the dishes and wiping the floor, but she didn¡¯t forgive me. She made me dinner but didn¡¯t serve it to me. I always felt that getting angry and yelling at me was the worst way she could treat me. Now I was realizing there were always worse ways people could treat you.


    It wasn¡¯t the first time I was being ignored. Anjali had done the same to get rid of me. So I knew from experience that the only way out of this awkward situation was to be persistent. Didn¡¯t matter if my mother talked to me. I just needed to stay on her case and keep pestering her until her defenses broke. Then I could slowly kill her heart demons until only she and I remained. Then we could have our belated heart-to-heart. She could ask for some promises and I would agree with some hesitation. And we¡¯d be back to being ourselves again. She will be the master and I, her slave.


    It was a Saturday, a holiday for us high school students. The school figured we needed some alone time to digest the curriculum and Sunday wasn¡¯t enough. I didn¡¯t know how many actually used the time to study; I didn¡¯t¡­ used to.


    I was looking all over the house for my shoes and shorts because I was going running. Not to test my suddenly amazing reflexes after a radioactive spider bit me. It was for my next task. I wished for Endurance from the system last night and it told me to run for three hours aggregate at a pace above 7 Kmph. It was not a simple task for someone like me who had never exercised a day in his life. It was most definitely another E-level task with life-changing consequences. The idea to get endurance came while I was searching for high-energy foods and somehow ended up studying the way our body stores energy.


    In the body, energy is stored in two forms, lipids, which are fats and oils, and glucose and glycogen. The body stores fat everywhere but primarily on the abdomen. While glucose is stored in the muscles and some of it is also stored in the liver. It¡¯s fine for glucose to be stored there, but when organs and veins start storing fat that¡¯s when problems like fatty liver and cholesterol arise.


    Fat and glucose might both be ways for our body to store energy, but they play two different roles. Glucose is an instant source of energy. Our body breaks sugars and carbohydrates into glucose and fructose, which pass through the permeable walls of the blood vessels and enter the bloodstream. Our body then releases insulin to move this glucose from the bloodstream to cells to produce energy. The excess of this gets stored in the muscles as glycogen. Cells break down glucose into ATP molecules that help with muscle contraction. It¡¯s the fuel our body burns to function. As for fat, our body only starts burning fat after it has exhausted almost all of the glycogen stored in the body. This process is called ketosis. This is where the popular diet for weight reduction called the Keto diet comes from.


    In our body, the brain uses the most energy by weight. Despite constituting only 2% of the body mass, it consumes a staggering 20% of the energy produced every day at resting state -- that is when we are not stressing our body or working out. Our brain is a super-hungry beast.


    This is where the superpower of endurance came in.


    [The Daily superpower system has heard your wish!]


    [Enhanced Endurance is an excellent superpower that works by increasing the amount of energy that your body can harmlessly store in the body, improving your absolute health and overall fitness levels.]


    [Task level: E]


    [Run for three hours aggregate maintaining a pace above 7 km/hr]


    [Would you like to accept the task to acquire the ability? Yes/No]


    The power improved the body''s glycogen levels. The noticeable thing was that the power did that harmlessly. Meaning, that I wouldn¡¯t have side effects like muscle straining and exploding from the induced stress.


    However, I could still have diabetes.


    Diabetes is a chronic condition that occurs when our body isn¡¯t able to regulate blood sugar. Type-1 diabetes occurs when our pancreas stops or reduces insulin production. With type-2 diabetes our body either, doesn¡¯t produce enough insulin to overcome the sugar intake, or it becomes resistant to insulin.


    In my case, with my increasing energy requirements, I would need to consume more food every day. More food meant more glucose production and high blood sugar levels. Meaning, I was at risk of type-2 diabetes if I didn¡¯t improve my body. It would be very insulting for a future god to be suffering from such a common ailment. However, this was not a problem for me. There were too many ways I could solve it. One of which was to improve my overall health, and another way was to find an alternate source of energy. So I wouldn¡¯t be dependent on a single source of energy for my needs. I could also strengthen my constitution.


    Actually, Endurance wasn¡¯t the first power that I wished from the system last night. My blowout with my mother made me so ashamed of myself that I wanted to become invisible. I asked the system for the power to become invisible but the systems task was too perverted for me to agree. It wanted me to peep at a naked girl bathing. It was also a B-level task, my first.


    I won¡¯t say I wasn¡¯t tempted by the idea of becoming invisible and by the task. The task made my heart lurch. I had thoughts that I find difficult to explain without coming out as a closet pervert. I shook my head clear. I said no to the task and moved on.


    As exciting as the task was, the task level made me afraid. Every E-level task had some influence on my life. I didn¡¯t dare wonder what kind of life-altering experience would come from a B-level task. It was possible I would have to run away from home after completing the task because the girl or someone else saw me peeping. That meant a police case and jail time. I would definitely try to escape that by disguising myself as someone else. I could still be free, but my life as a boy named Sahil would be ruined.


    Anyway, for the first time since I got the system, I said no to a task.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Now there I was. Waking up early on a holiday, and getting ready to go torture myself. On my way out of home, I saw kids playing football in the community ground. They looked happy. I never liked playing football because I didn¡¯t like all the running. As a kid, I used to find the sport torturous. So whenever I was forced to play football I would play the goalkeeper. That was how much I hated running.


    Things sure change with time.


    I carried a bottle of glucose water in my backpack, a Casio watch on my wrist, and a towel to wipe sweat. I had to make do with my phone to know my speed and distance run because I didn¡¯t have a Fitbit. I also took two bananas and a lemon for the amino acid build up and cramps. Next, I pulled my bicycle out of the house, closed that gate, and started peddling toward my destination. I was going to the sports college next door. It was the only place with a running track in the city. It wasn¡¯t far only a kilometer or so from my home. I chose to go there by bike so that I could use it as a crutch on my way back. The 3 hours of running was definitely going to kill my legs. I was hoping the bike would make coming back home less¡­ torturous.


    I parked in the parking lot and locked my bike. There were quite a few two-wheelers parked there, which assured me. Anyone looking to steal a ride had better options available. My last generation hero cycle was safe there.


    You couldn¡¯t see the college building from the road, but it was visible from the tracks. It wasn¡¯t anything special, a yellow box with many windows. That was my impression of it. The track looked old, cracked, and repeatedly patched. Never replaced after it was laid down some 23 years ago.


    Its condition didn¡¯t matter to me. I was there to run once and get my power, not to inspect the college facilities and the qualifications of their staff.


    It was almost seven and there were many people on the ground. Girls and boys of various ages ran around on the tracks in tracksuits and shorts. I lost count midway but I counted a few tens of them.


    I had looked up some warm-up exercises before coming and started stretching my body accordingly. It was only when I really started putting some pressure on my joints did I realized how stiff I was. God, I was exhausted even before I started running. Some girls laughed at me on their way running past me. What did they know about the woes of a favorite son? Wait! I wasn¡¯t the favorite son. What the hell was I talking about?


    Anyway, I placed my beanbag in an open and secure enough location on the stands, started the timer, and started running.


    I also read up on running techniques. The main point was to keep my breathing steady and run as if I were falling forward. I had tried this technique a few times at home and found some success, but running under the sun and with others was a different beast altogether.


    Right away, I knew I was out of my depths there.


    According to goggle there were a few things one should take care of during a run.


    First, was to warm up your stiff joints and rigid muscles before a run which could otherwise lead to injuries, cramps, and even ligament tears.


    The second was to ensure you wear good shoes with thick padding. Most foot and knee-related running injuries occur because of inappropriate shoes.


    I didn¡¯t have good running shoes so I was making do with what I had. Besides, I was only there to complete the task. Only a fool and sports students would run every day of their own will.


    The third point was to know your limits. Run at your own steady pace. Let others do what they want to do. You do your thing. Remember, it was a marathon, not a race.


    The fourth point was to start slow. Run a mile first and adjust accordingly.


    I was shitting on all the points by being there because my task was to run for three hours going above 7 Km/hr. Meaning, I had to run at least 21 km to complete the task. I knew it would be a near-impossible task, but who knew it would be life-threatening?


    My lungs were burning and my legs felt heavy like I was running in knee-deep water. I looked at my watch wheezing and stumbling and was horrified to know that I had only been running for ten minutes. My phone said I was running at an average pace of 8 km/hr and had run almost 1.7 Km. I knew the phone app wasn¡¯t accurate, but it was all I had.


    1.7 Km¡¯s were four rounds. Was that a lot? I didn¡¯t know. All I knew was that I was dying inside and I could have never managed to run so much if not for my recent eating habits. I was eating more and had grown a little stronger.


    I could hear my heartbeat in my ears and I was breathing like a buffalo. I wheezed like there was water in my lungs. And it had only been, I checked and it said twelve minutes and fifteen seconds. I didn¡¯t know if I could do this. And I really couldn¡¯t. I finished another two laps and fell to the ground dying like a fish out of water. I thought someone would stop and say something but none of them even looked in my direction. They all seemed to be fighting their own demons and had no time for my nonsense.


    I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what I was doing there in the first place. Did I really need this superpower? Couldn¡¯t I live without it? Then I started blaming myself. Wondering what I was doing with my life. How could I let her slip out of my hands? Why didn¡¯t I persist? I should have begged her to let me stay close to her. I should have held her hand and refused to let go. I should have done something, anything. But I didn¡¯t do anything and so I didn¡¯t deserve anything.


    I should have told her how much I cared about her. How much I loved it. And then I started thinking about Sonam. Wondering if the same thing was gonna repeat again. Again I was gonna disappoint someone and then feel bad about myself.


    I didn¡¯t know how long I would have continued mopping if a voice hadn¡¯t broken my thoughts and pulled me back to reality.


    ¡°Hey, are you all right?¡± It said.


    I looked over and saw a petite girl in shorts standing at the tracks. She was breathing heavily, taking deep breaths. Beads of sweat flowed down from her forehead, sketching glassy lines on her rosy cheeks. I didn¡¯t see her running, but the wet patch on her shirt indicated she had been running for a while.


    ¡°Are you talking to me?¡± I couldn¡¯t believe it. She was a very handsome girl. I didn¡¯t think someone like her had any business talking to someone like me. Then again I was forgetting that after a bit of disguise magic, I was also a handsome boy now.


    ¡°You can talk. So you must be fine.¡± She said.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m just tired.¡±


    I tried to stand up and she gave me her hand. I found it unbelievable. I didn¡¯t show it on my face, grabbed her hand, and got up to my feet. My legs screamed when I put my weight on them. I wished I hadn¡¯t gotten up. I only stayed up thanks to sheer will and pride. If she wasn¡¯t there I would have fallen back to the ground.


    ¡°That all right. It¡¯s your first day running isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Does it show?¡± I said while dusting my pajamas.


    She gave me an encouraging smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. At least you decided to come. Most people just keep thinking about it and never do.¡± She said and added, ¡°But since it¡¯s your first day today and you have sweat. You should stop now and rest. Running is something that you get good at slowly over a long period. You run the risk of injury if you run too hard on your first day.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m good.¡± I had a task to complete. I needed that endurance injection far more urgently than I believed. ¡°Besides I haven¡¯t had enough yet.¡±


    I could see her hesitating, but she held herself back.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hurt yourself,¡± She told me and then went back to running. I watched her go away; her ponytail waved me goodbye. Soon she was on the other side of the tracks, two hundred meters away, an insurmountable distance.


    I took a deep breath, started my timer again, and went back on the tracks. I started slow this time until my legs got used to the rhythm before slowly increasing my pace to a desirable amount. It was seven-thirty am. I needed to run for three hours aggregate and it was gonna take a while to complete this task.

 Ch-11: Oct-6

    The task was to run for three hours and it took me six hours to complete. I completed the task and lay there on the ground. The lemon I carried was squeezed dry. The glucose bottle was rolling around somewhere and my towel that was supposed to wipe my sweat was dripping sweat like a leaking faucet.


    I had vomited, cried, screamed, and scared many people during my time at the tracks. The girl who had helped me up even tried to stop me twice before giving up. She soon completed her run and left the site. I didn¡¯t see her afterward. I learned that even goodwill had its limits. I stayed at the tracks for another half an hour, which I passed motionlessly sprawled on the ground. When I got up to walk my legs shook as if I had seen a ghost. Or like a nervous boy confessing to his crush. Or like a tong. A little faster and I could have resonated with the earth and caused an earthquake.


    I somehow got to the parking lot and thanked myself for bringing the bike. Not because I could drive it home. I was right about that. And about using it as a crutch to lean on, on my way back. There were times I stumbled and fell on the road, causing the passersby to stare at me. A few even told me to drink less next time. An older woman even pointed her greasy fingers at me and pointed out that the police should lock up day drinkers like me who disturb society. I just found it funny.


    I wanted to stand up to her and fight back. Tell that bitch to shut up and be humble. If only I had any strength left in my body.


    This was not a joke or an excuse.


    I could barely walk. I didn¡¯t even know if I was gonna get home. There were times when the world turned black and grey to my eyes. Thankfully, I didn¡¯t faint. I was on the highway and could have caused an accident or two.


    Some energy arose from the uncharted depths of my soul when I saw my home. I pushed through the last few steps of the way, parked the bike by the gate, and went inside. I don¡¯t remember the rest.


    I woke up to the familiar smell of home of something freshly cooked, incense smoke and spices. Underneath all of that was the faint odor of the countless roses blooming in our garden. I woke on a folding bed in the front yard. The sky was above my head, floating clouds distant and dreamy. I was still in the same clothes. Once soaking wet, they had dried up and created quite a stink. Even mosquitoes didn¡¯t dare come near me.


    I got from the bed groaning and moaning, my head groggy and legs like wet noodles, and staggered my way toward the bathroom. Unaware that I wasn¡¯t wearing any footwear.


    I met my mother on the way. She looked at me with concern. I opened my mouth to explain but only a groan escaped. My throat hurt. It was drier than the Thar desert. My rumbling stomach saved me from whatever was coming. Because my mother just sighed and told me to wash up and come inside for lunch.


    Only then did I remember that she was mad at me? At least something good came out of me going out of home and coming back looking half-dead. She was probably still mad at me, but it was a start. I believed a few more days of washing dishes and cleaning the floor would fill the crack between us.


    Maybe I can give her a foot massage. That will definitely curb her anger like nothing else. I thought.


    It was almost three o''clock when I came inside the house after washing up. I saw the clothes sprawled in the lobby and knew that Abhey was back from school. I felt somewhat different, to be honest. A difference that was hard to explain. I was calm, and more down to earth. There were very little to no thoughts passing through my mind. My mind was a deep dark ocean full of self-defeating thoughts. It had never been so calm. The silence was scary.


    I looked for a sense of familiarity in my surroundings, and I found it in the whistling sound of the pressure cooker. It was loud and barbaric, insensitive and penetrating. And it reminded me of all the good times. Then I saw my mother coming to pick up the clothes and hurried to help her.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± I told her which earned me a stare. So I added a please at the end to appease her. That seemed to have worked because she stood back and went back into the kitchen.


    I finished cleaning, turned back, and saw Abhey leaning against the door.


    ¡°Are you trying to butter her up?¡± He said while I was passing him. I ignored him and he didn¡¯t bother me again.


    I went to the kitchen next and served myself a plate of mashed brinjal, some red kidney beans, and curd. I also filled a plate for Abhey so my mother wouldn¡¯t have to. My hands shook while I poured the curd and the container almost slipped from my hands. Thankfully I caught it just in time otherwise all my work would have gone down the drain along with the curd.


    Then the next second I misjudged the distance between me and the kitchen counter and the container ended up on the floor anyway. I screamed inside. Outside I stood stunned with my hand stretched and trembling. I looked over and saw my mother¡¯s face warp into something hideous and frightening. Obviously, she got angry.


    ¡°What did you do? Can¡¯t even do one job properly! I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s thinking all day. I shouldn¡¯t have let you help! It¡¯s all my mistake.¡± She finished yelling and picked up the floor wiper to clean up my mess.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it ma. Don¡¯t do it.¡± I said with a shaking voice. I really felt bad about this. She was right. I was a mess.


    ¡°Go away!¡± She pushed me when I tried to take the wiper from her. That was when I knew I had reached the limit of her patience and it would be better for me to leave her alone.


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    I went out only to remember I forgot to pick up my plate. I entered the kitchen under the scrutinizing glare of my mother, took all the chapattis from the container along with my plate, and ran out of the kitchen with my mother screaming behind me. I knew I was guilty and everything; I was also very hungry. With the Furnace improving my digestion, it was gonna be even more difficult to curb my hunger.


    Now I had another problem on my head. One was diabetes and the other was fat. My mother was very generous in her use of oils in the food. With my increasing diet, my calorie intake had increased but so had my fat intake. A day or two of binge eating might not show any difference. Over a long time, I was gonna turn from a healthy boy to an overweight ball with a sagging chin and short stubby legs. The image made me fearful.


    Fat also burns slowly. It was more a source of survival than everyday energy generation.


    Now I also needed to find a way to solve my upcoming fat issues. I also needed another source of energy and a way to make money. My family didn¡¯t have the financial conditions for my 10K calorie diet. The list was getting longer and so were my troubles.


    Perhaps I can move to higher-energy foods. I thought while eating. It shouldn¡¯t come as a surprise that I had lunch in my bedroom. Enlightened by the idea, I picked up my phone and started browsing with one hand while showing food in my mouth with the other.


    Took me a while but I finally had some sources of extra cheap and high-quality energy. Butter was the runner up and potato was the winner. The richest source of carbohydrates and starch, who knew one hundred grams of potatoes could provide 75 calories or 319 kJ of energy? Yes, pure saturated fat could provide more energy at 83 cal/ 100 grams and was also cheaper compared to potatoes. But who can eat ten kilos of butter every day? That was not humanly possible without clogging all arteries and blocking all the other vessels in the body. One was a source of fat and the other of glucose.


    Potatoes only won because they were cheap and easy to prepare. In terms of pure calories, a chapatti provided double the amount compared to a potato. A chapatti is not only rich in carbohydrates; it also contains proteins and fibers. A 100-gram chapatti can prove 136 calories. 100 grams of potatoes give 73 calories. Cost-wise, a 10 kg bag of wheat costs 300, while the same weight of potatoes would only cost me half the price.


    Besides baking chapatti was not an easy task for the inexperienced. Perhaps if one day I got a skill that would make it easier for me to learn tasks I would involve chapatti in my favored future food. Until then, my attention would be solely on boiled potatoes. Though it was not going to be an easy task to eat let alone digest ten thousand calories every day.


    Some energy was back in my bones, I didn¡¯t want to waste any more time and pulled up my mathematics book to study. I didn¡¯t turn on photographic memory or my super brain. I first went through two chapters and wrote down all the formulas on a page before memorizing them with photographic memory. So I will never forget them. Understanding the logic had never been a problem for me; I just always forget the formulae. That problem was rectified, and I started solving the math problems. Taking my time with them if I had to.


    I studied like a normal person for three hours and only stopped when my father returned home from work. He was late today, something to do with a flood in a neighboring city. He worked in the canal division of the irrigation department. It was a well-paying government job. At least we always had food on our table. Everyone said government employees were lazy, but I had only seen my father stressed with work all day. As if, he was doing the work of all the staff. He¡¯d just returned and he was already on the phone with someone, telling them how to do their job.


    The call ended but not the murmurs. I heard the anguished voice of my mother talking to my father. Sometimes their tempers rose during the conversation. It took a while for the house to grow calm again. Half an hour later my dad came to my room. He had changed into comfier clothes and held a glass of steaming tea in his hand. He coughed to get my attention and I was surprised to see him standing at my doorstep as he probably was seeing me studying.


    ¡°Dad,¡± I said with some uncertainty. With a faint, worry whirling in my stomach.


    ¡°You are studying.¡± He stated.


    I could guess his thoughts when he asked for my notebook. I complied and he looked through it slowly before returning it to me.


    ¡°You have a test or?¡±


    ¡°No, just practicing,¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± He uttered in jubilation.


    ¡°You wanted something, dad?¡±


    ¡°There was something,¡±


    ¡°Want me to go to market? I was closing up anyways.¡± I said heaving to the side of the bed to get up.


    My father lightly grabbed my shoulder and told me to sit down. Then he sat on the side of the bed and asked me with some hesitation, ¡°Is there something wrong, son?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I hoped my dear mother hadn¡¯t shared her delusion with my dad.


    My fears came true when my dad asked, ¡°Your mother thinks you have been acting strangely lately. She thinks,¡±


    ¡°What? That I¡¯m doing drugs?¡±


    ¡°Well, are you?¡± The look in his eyes wasn¡¯t questioning.


    I withered some under his stare, melted like ice in the sun, blown away like a leaf in the wind. He was scrutinizing, not announcing my wrongs. However, it felt wrong.


    ¡°No, Dad. There are no drugs.¡± I said somehow. My chest grew heavier and my eyes grew mistier. I dropped my head to hide the flaws. Perhaps that was how I cemented myself as a junkie in his mind.


    ¡°I know the other kids are doing stuff and they say it¡¯s good and it feels good at first, right.¡± He said. ¡°But it¡¯s really poison son. Don¡¯t, ¡±


    ¡°Why can¡¯t you listen to me for once.¡± I whimpered like a puppy. How could I raise my voice against my father? ¡°I¡¯m not doing drugs. I¡¯m just hungry and tired and scared. Now finally something goods happening to me and I don¡¯t know what to do. I don¡¯t think I can handle it.¡±


    I felt his hands grow tighter on my shoulders. ¡°You can tell me. Maybe I can help.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t.¡± I saw the helplessness in his eyes and the worry. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Dad. I need to see this one through myself.¡±


    He repeated his words. ¡°You can talk to us son. If it¡¯s a problem maybe we can help.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t have a problem. It¡¯s just complicated.¡± I was sorry, but how could I tell him about the system? He¡¯d just think it was my delusional and I couldn¡¯t have proved anything to him. He would have attributed my ramblings to drugs. Perhaps it would have only further cemented his suspicions and brought them closer to his beliefs.


    My father sighed in defeat like all the parents who want to help their children but they don¡¯t know where to start.


    ¡°All right, buddy.¡± He said standing up. He had something on his mind, but he didn¡¯t say it. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to it.¡± He said instead and then walked out of the room with slow and heavy strides, carrying a burden that every parent carries.


    I was left sighing too. I had no mood for studying any more. I closed the books and fell back on the bed. My eyes stared at the ticking clock while my mind kept wondering¨C Did I do the right thing?

 Ch-12: Oct-7-Photosynthesis

    Sunlight is one of the reasons there is life on Earth.


    If there were no sunlight, there would be no life. We wouldn¡¯t be able to see. There would be no plants. There would be nothing to eat. There would be no oxygen, we couldn¡¯t breathe. There would still be water, which is a compound of oxygen of hydrogen. But there wouldn¡¯t be any free oxygen in the air that only appears when there is life and photosynthesis.


    Moreover, it was just so relaxing to sit in the sun. But that was not why I was sitting in the sun watching clouds float by. This was the latest task I had received after wishing for the power of photosynthesis from the system.


    Photosynthesis as the name suggests is the process of a plant using photo, which is light, to synthesize its food, which is glucose. Almost everyone on the planet knows that, but not many people know how the plants achieve such a feat.


    There are two types of chloroplasts in a plant. One that absorbs red light in the wavelength of 700mm and another that absorbs light in the wavelength of 680mm. The rest of the light gets reflected, giving the plants their natural green color.


    The first chloroplast absorbs this energy and gets excited. When that happens, it releases an electron that keeps transferring the energy further and further in a chain that ends at a molecule of NADP or Nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide phosphate. The electron provided by chloroplast tells this NADP to bond with a molecule of hydrogen to form NADPH+. This is an unstable molecule that then quickly bonds with phosphate absorbed by the plant from the ground to create a molecule of ATP. Even if NADP sounds strange to most, almost everyone should be familiar with ATP, the fuel that our body consumes. The plants use this ATP molecule or molecules along with a lot of carbon dioxide, water, and other minerals to create glucose. So plants don¡¯t directly convert sunlight into energy. It only acts as a power source for the electrical circuit inside a plant.


    I didn¡¯t know this when I wished for photosynthesis from the system. Thankfully, the power worked a little differently from the above.


    [The Daily superpower system has heard your wish!]


    [Photosynthesis is a superpower that can help you absorb sunlight and use it directly as energy in the body to power other superpowers. At lv-1 you can only absorb 1% of sunlight in a one-meter radius around you.]


    [Task level: F]


    [Stay under the sun for two hours.]


    [Would you like to accept the task to acquire the ability? Yes/No]


    I knew I would need an alternate source of energy soon. But I had my reservations about this power. The worry of turning green was substantial though pointless due to disguise. I was more inclined toward improving my body for the time being so I wouldn¡¯t run into problems like diabetes in the near future. However, with my food source along with my relationship with my mother entering a cold war, I decided to get my energy from somewhere else. I didn¡¯t want to get into trouble again over a few more calories.


    Now I was venturing out into alternate sources of energy. At first, my mind wandered straight toward electricity. I saw the mobile phone charging and pondered if I should just ask for that power. Then my mind asked me what I¡¯d do if the system task was to get an electric shock. And how I would store that energy in my body. I was still a human after all. Backing down, I looked at my other options and sunlight was the only reliable one I found. It was not as if I could drink gasoline and go gas, gas, gas, like a car!


    Choosing photosynthesis, I started reading about it. Then midnight struck. I asked for the power, got the task, and went to sleep. Another task couldn¡¯t be completed in the night. I was starting to finalize my decision to sleep early and wake up early.


    If my worry was about my skin turning green then the system description of the power removed it, released me, and tamed my mind. Agreeing to the settlement offered by the system, I vouched to become more than just a plant lazing around. All I needed to do was to pay the system two hours of sunlight, and it would make me Piccolo in return. The power would allow me to absorb sunlight in a meter radius around me. A meter radius meant the absorbing area was in a spherical or a semi-spherical region. However, it only absorbed 1% of the sunlight for now. I could still move around acting human, even though I wasn¡¯t gonna be in a few hours. Humans could absorb sunlight, just not for the reason I would be.


    Some time passed. I looked at my watch, its backlit screen was unreadable black in the sunlight. I pulled my wrist in the shade of my head and even then I had to squint to read the squiggles. I could have just used my phone, but hell, I was getting impatient. I had been sitting in the sun for almost an hour and a half. It had felt like a relaxing Endeavour for the first fifteen minutes then my skin started burning and I had to look for shade, defeating the purpose of bathing in the sun. So there I sat with my back to the sun and my arms and legs pulled under my shadow, waiting for the hell to end hell when my phone started ringing. It was Kartick.


    I picked up the phone and asked, ¡°What do you want?¡± Surprising was the timber of my voice. It was hard and rugged like the sound of an iron brush on a wet floor.


    ¡°Huh, is that how you talk to a friend who called you up on a lazy Sunday afternoon?¡±


    I let out a defeated sigh. ¡°What do you want? I¡¯m busy.¡±


    ¡°Stop whatever you are doing.¡± He sounded in a hurry. ¡°We are going out today.¡±


    Repressed memories surfaced in my mind. ¡°I won¡¯t go,¡± I said shaking my head. ¡°You¡¯ll get me in trouble again.¡±


    ¡°I promise it''s nothing like that. We are only going to the theater.¡±


    ¡°No money,¡± May sound like an excuse, but it was the truth.


    ¡°Did I ask for your money?¡± He sounded offended, which made me slightly nervous. ¡°Have I ever asked you for money for anything? Who treated you to burger and coke in the canteen last time?¡±


    ¡°That was on your birthday.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± He coughed to hide the embarrassment or to change the topic. ¡°What about that time we went to eat at the dhaba? Did you pay anything?¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t either,¡± I shouted, but the memory also brought a smile to my face. ¡°We dinned and dashed motherfucker. The owner ran after us with a knife.¡±


    ¡°I saved you didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°We survived because the man was overweight and couldn¡¯t catch us or would have been served as the night''s special dish and he would have called it rascal fry.¡±


    ¡°Ha ha, man you are funny when you are in the mood. So are you coming or what?¡±


    I was not abhorrent to go out with Kartik. It was his appearance that was the problem. My parents were already somewhat convinced that I was an addict and Kartik¡¯s eccentric character and small frame only added to their worries. That being said, I¡¯d had enough sunlight for a morning.


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    ¡°When will you be here?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I managed to say before someone started blaring a horn in front of my house. I had a bad premonition that proved true when I looked over the roof railing and saw the idiot waving at me from the street.


    ¡°Come down. Let¡¯s go!¡± He said blaring that horn like he was in a traffic jam.


    I looked at my watch. It was 11:38, still more than twenty minutes left for the task to complete. The theater was half an hour away on bike anyway. I could get the skill on the way.


    ¡°Stop being an idiot and come inside. I¡¯ll be there in a minute.¡± I told Kartik on the phone before ending the call.


    Putting the phone in my pocket, I pulled the chair back inside the house and then rushed down the stairs like I was gonna miss a train or something.


    By the time I reached the ground floor, Kartik was already standing with my mother and making her laugh. A task I found impossible to complete.  If it ever showed up on my system, I would just wish for another superpower instead. Kartik had none of my problems. He could make anyone laugh. It had more to do with his mindset than his character. He wasn¡¯t afraid of making jokes.


    ¡°Hey, what did you do? Aunty tells me you are taking drugs. Is that true?¡±


    ¡°What!¡±


    I already had a headache thinking about how to make my parents believe I wasn¡¯t doing drugs and now she told him, the loudspeaker. My life was over.


    I glanced at the two of them. Both my mother and the douche looked at me expectedly. They wanted an answer.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t do drugs,¡± I said calmly. They didn¡¯t believe me. My mother had her suspicions. Kartik was having fun. I guess, it was not the answer they were looking for.


    ¡°Can you go out for a minute I need to talk to her for a sec,¡± I told Kartik.


    ¡°You can say anything in front of me, man. I¡¯m your friend.¡±


    Yes, that was exactly why I didn¡¯t want to talk in front of him. ¡°Just go, please.¡± My mother didn¡¯t ask him to stay either.


    ¡°All right, but be quick all right.¡± He said on the way out. ¡°I don¡¯t want to miss the movie. I heard it¡¯s a good one.¡±


    I nodded to assure him I¡¯d heard him. Then there was only my ma and I left in the room. She stared at me like a jailer ready to accept a prisoner¡¯s confession. I could hear my heart pounding. It was a sign of anger. I didn¡¯t know whom I was angry at, my mother or myself.


    ¡°You know what you are doing?¡± I wasn¡¯t asking a question, but letting out my frustration. ¡°I¡¯ve told you many times I¡¯m not doing drugs. Drugs are not the source of every problem. It¡¯s one thing for you to hold this delusion but to tell him! You don¡¯t know him like I do. He¡¯s gonna tell everyone that I do drugs and I¡¯ll be so embarrassed.¡±


    My mother let out a snort. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s how you¡¯ll understand.¡±


    Was she not hearing me? ¡°Did you not hear anything I said?¡± I questioned or was it a statement? ¡°You know what. Fuck it.¡±


    ¡°What did you say?¡± She looked like a lioness ready to pounce at her prey. I should have been scared, but I¡¯d had enough of it.


    ¡°Oh, you heard that, huh? Good for you. I don¡¯t care anymore. Do whatever you want to do. I¡¯m leaving.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m only thinking about you, Sahil.¡±


    ¡°You say that but you don¡¯t listen!¡± It was loud. It was violent. It was aggressive enough to scare my ma. She stepped back in panic or fear. Did she think I would hit her?


    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± She said with a slight tremble in her voice which I didn¡¯t hear.


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t.¡± I was too tired of the same nonsensical conversation and today she crossed a line. She shouldn¡¯t have told Kartik.


    ¡°You are just gonna believe whatever you want to believe no matter what I say. That¡¯s all right. Maybe I deserve that.¡±


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± I heard on the way out, but I didn¡¯t want to talk to her anymore.


    I went to my room and found Kartik sitting there on my bed.


    ¡°Hey, where¡¯s your laptop?¡± He asked me as if he didn¡¯t hear anything.


    ¡°Abhey took it,¡± I indulged him.


    ¡°What? Why? He isn¡¯t harassing you, is he? Boy, he¡¯s the devil. You should stay away from him as much as possible.¡±


    His words, the fright, seemed so familiar. Then I remembered and it made me chuckle. ¡°Abhey has the same opinion about you,¡± I said and opened my almirah to find something to wear.


    Eventually, I changed into a black T-shirt and blue jeans. I jumped into my canvas shoes, sprayed some deo and we were out of the house. I didn¡¯t see my mother on the way out and found it equally relaxing and disappointing.


    Maybe I was expecting to have another conversation with her. Guess, it wasn¡¯t to be.


    Kartik had a 250cc red Fazer which was considered a sports bike at my place since everyone else was either driving a commercial 150cc Pulsar, Splendor, or Platina. Ours wasn¡¯t a posh city with Mercedes and BMWs parked on every street. You might see one of them outside some factory where the owner was visiting, or chance upon one on the highway. Mostly everyone commuted by bike and those who had cars owned either Fiat sedans or Suzuki hatchbacks.


    ¡°Do you want to drive?¡± Kartik asked me knowing I couldn¡¯t drive. Usually, I would just punch him on the shoulder and we¡¯d be on our way. Today I snatched the key from his hand and grabbed the handle.


    ¡°Get out of the way,¡± I said. He knew I was serious because he got a bit nervous.


    ¡°I was just joking man,¡± He said trying to snatch the key from my hand. Kinda reminded me of my fight with Abhey, when I was trying to snatch his phone to delete the embarrassing recording. Now seeing Kartik struggling to get the key from my hand, I learned the importance of height.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be impulsive. We only have one life.¡±


    ¡°Now you know that.¡±


    ¡°So are you giving back the key?¡±


    ¡°First show me the tickets,¡± I said which made him suddenly very quiet.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have any tickets do you?¡± I knew it.


    I kicked the air to show my anger. I was angry. Angry at my mother, angry at myself, angry at kartik for trying to trick me. But what was the point of being angry? It was not like anger was gonna solve my problems.


    I threw the keys to him and sat in the backseat. Kartik looked at me in confusion inviting a raised eyebrow from me.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked. ¡°Drive!¡±


    ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t coming.¡± Kartik struggled onto the driving seat, started the bike and we drove away into the sun.


    We were on the way when the system informed me that the task had been completed. Even that didn¡¯t make me happy. I had almost forgotten about the task. Soon we reached our destination. We were at the mall, the only place nearby with something to do on a Sunday.


    Kartik paid for the parking space and we parked in the basement parking lot. I got off and pulled my handkerchief to wipe the sweat covering my face. I found it odd. I shouldn¡¯t be sweating this much after riding on a bike, even though it was more than thirty-five degrees out there.


    Then Kartik got off the bike, looked at me, and got startled by something.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked in annoyance.


    ¡°You are¡­ red.¡± He said in concern.


    We passed a few confused glances at each other before I looked at his bike mirror and saw that he was not wrong. Not only was my face red like a buffoon''s ass; but I was also hyperventilating and sweating profusely. I was so hot that steam was coming out of my head like I had just run a marathon. My mind worked out the reason and I could only blame myself for this.


    When our body absorbs sunlight it uses some of it to create vitamin D and whatever it can¡¯t use escapes from our body as heat. Now the superpower was sending all the sunlight it had absorbed in one meter radius directly into my body. The excess energy was heating me up.


    ¡°It¡¯s the sun.¡± I hid my anxiety and told Kartik. It was also the truth. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯ll be fine now.¡±


    It was a problem albeit a small one. There was an easy fix. I just needed another power that could store this extra light energy so it would not heat me up. But who was to say that power wouldn¡¯t cause another problem to me?


    I shook my head and put the thought to the back of my mind, deciding to cross the bridge when I got to it.

 Ch-13: Oct-7-Battery

    ¡°Check out that girl!¡± Kartik gestured toward a girl in a red sweater sitting on a bench in front of a D&B shop. She had a large coffee cup in one hand and her phone in the other. ¡°She¡¯s been looking this way for a while now. What do you think? Do you want to have a go or shall I, like always?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll pray for your success.¡±


    Kartik furrowed his brows and tilted his head. A distant memory slowly became clearer in his head. And he asked, ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t believe in god.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± I told him. He clicked his tongue and started walking toward the girl.


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget your lines,¡± I announced behind him. He flipped me a middle finger in response.


    Kartik wore black jeans and a black jacket. I never understood what the girls saw in him, but they always tense up seeing him approaching them. If the girls were in a group they would either grow quiet and look away as if pretending to be ignoring him. Otherwise, they would start pushing the girl of his attention forward like they were sacrificing one for the benefit of many. I couldn¡¯t decide if he was that charming or if he chose his girls wisely. The girls were all next one prettier than the last one. He¡¯d failed plenty, but I never saw him mopping. He always said he was a fisherman and the world was his ocean. I was also a fisherman, one who slept on an empty stomach every night.


    This girl in red was as pretty as they come. Then again, all girls look pretty when they pay you attention. She wasn¡¯t my type but that was because my brain was still stuck in limbo.


    ¡°Hi there,¡± Kartik said to the girl. The girl looked up from her phone, holding a smile that carried some expectation with it.


    ¡°Here,¡± He said presenting a long white feather to her.


    The girl''s head tilted slightly in confusion. The same question she asked with her raised eyebrows.


    ¡°You dropped this when you landed from heaven. I picked it up for you.¡± He told her and she started laughing and snorting.


    Even her laughter sounded pretty. What a lucky bastard he was.


    Kartik winked in my direction to announce his success. I gave him a thumbs-up in return.


    He asked her if she was going to take the feather and she eventually did and said thank you. Then he continued as rehearsed.


    ¡°I heard you get one wish for helping an angel. Is this true?¡± These were some pretty corny lines. The motive wasn¡¯t to really impress a girl but to make the girl laugh and if possible embarrass her. Kartik had told me that girls crave attention. It makes their heart flutter. Do you know what else makes your heart flutter? He had asked me and I told him, love. He called me an embarrassment. And it made my heart flutter. He asked me about it and I told him the truth.


    That¡¯s what we are after. He then told me in excitement. Since it¡¯s impossible to make a girl fall in love at first sight. We go with the next best thing, which is to embarrass her. Remember, we are not making fun of her, but putting her in embarrassing situations that make her heart flutter. You do that enough time and she¡¯ll do the rest herself. She¡¯ll deceive herself into believing that the fluttering of her heart is a sign of love.


    Like he¡¯d said, the girl in red started laughing louder. Her eyes were crinkling; she was shaking her hands, gesturing him to stop, when in reality she hadn¡¯t stopped staring at him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry I don¡¯t want a lot,¡± Kartik said. ¡°I just want your phone number. If you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    She took her time before eventually giving it to him. He chatted with her for a while, before coming back to my side bouncing from left to right. He slid to a stop in front of me and flashed me his phone to show that he had really added her number.


    ¡°Her name¡¯s Harman. She¡¯s a sophomore, studying commerce at DAV.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s a college student?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Kartik said matter-of-factly. ¡°And so are we.¡± He patted my shoulder. ¡°We are studying mechanics at Saint Soldiers Technical College. Remember?¡±


    I glared at him. ¡°Are we?¡± We weren¡¯t. We were in 11<sup>th</sup> standard and still more than a year away from any kind of college.


    ¡°If you want to have fun then you have to lie, my friend.¡± He pulled me back to face him when I turned away with a snort. ¡°That¡¯s what Aristotle said.¡± He added with all seriousness he could muster.


    ¡°Did he say that really?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± He said shaking his phone. ¡°He also said, that only liars shall have fun while the rest can suck his gun.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think they had guns in his time.¡±


    He clicked his tongue and poked me softly on the chest. ¡°You see, this is the reason girls don¡¯t like you, man. You are way too serious.¡±


    ¡°Who said girls don¡¯t like me?¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± Kartik said playfully. ¡°Let¡¯s see, then.¡± He looked around until someone fancied him. Then he pulled me up and pointed toward a group of girls and boys. ¡°You see that girl over there?¡± He pointed at not just a girl, but the most gorgeous piece of heaven that God most definitely regretted losing on earth, and told me I should go talk to her. He was a specimen all right.


    ¡°Yeah, right,¡± I said getting free from his arms. ¡°And what should I do: Give her a feather and tell her she¡¯s an angel? Do you think she needs any more people telling her that she¡¯s beautiful?¡±


    ¡°You never know.¡± Kartik gave me a grin that said it was my choice.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you go?¡±


    ¡°I have already. Now it¡¯s your turn.¡± He said poking me in the chest again. This time it hurt. ¡°Unless you are a pussy,¡±


    Was this any different from telling me to stand up for myself? They really were alike, Abhey and Kartik. Both of them are hell-bent on making my life as difficult as possible. I glared at him, but he didn¡¯t understand anything. I took a deep breath and decided to go. The worst she could do was say no. I hoped so. I nodded to him and started walking.


    My feet moved heavily. I didn¡¯t saunter or glide but dragged and pulled myself toward the girl and her friends. A moment came during this exercise when I stopped hearing all sounds.


    I was anxious and nervous. She really was just that beautiful. She was wearing crystal heels that put her around my height. She had a dress on, a white something that flowed around her curves. She held a clutch with a pearl handle. They all dressed that nicely, and even then she stood out among her friends. They all looked like college students. I add a disguise to turn some wheels in my favor. I didn¡¯t want to lose too badly. I looked at the glass windows on the way and turned into the best version of myself. That changed my whole personality. The same clothes now looked so appropriate. They were still cheap as hell, but now I carried them rather than the other way around.


    None of them paid me any attention until I stopped in front of the girl. Suddenly the group chatter stalled like the car had run out of gas or the driver had to break because the road was blocked. I now had their sole attention and they watched me like hounds eyeing their prey. My inner voice told me to forget about the rest and pay attention to the girl. That was what I did.


    ¡°Hey, gorgeous,¡± I said in a tone that was too scared, too stiff. Hell, I was still like a board too. I said the words and my mind went blank. I should have made a plan. I felt a storm of embarrassment rising. What the fuck did I get into? I would have run away if it was possible. However, reality proved to be different from my thoughts.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Yes,¡± The girl said calmly. She was so composed like she had been in the same situation far too many times to count. My presence didn¡¯t fluster or bother her. Heck, she seemed like she was resting in a lounge with a cup of coffee in her hand.


    I wanted to tell her something but my brain vault had closed, shutting me out alone in the darkness without any thoughts. I didn¡¯t know what to say.


    Perhaps, her friend in a golden jacket saw my embarrassment, or she just liked to make fun of her friend. ¡°Wow.¡± She said slinging an arm around the girl¡¯s waist. ¡°Did you just admit to being gorgeous?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± said the girl in white, glancing at her. ¡°Am I not?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, very pretty,¡± Announced the other boys around in unity and solidarity, bringing the laughter back to the group.


    I thought they had forgotten me but the girl in the golden jacket wasn¡¯t done with me. ¡°Oh, we forgot about him. What were you saying?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I opened my mouth and the words fell out. ¡°I forgot everything else.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate.¡± The girl in white said.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s kinda cute.¡± The girl in a golden jacket said. ¡°He forgot what he had to say because, he, finds, you, so, gorgeous.¡±


    She broke the sentence into pieces and played with my heart at the same time. She was quite talented at embarrassing her friend or she tried to because it didn¡¯t seem like her words had any impact on the girl in white. That girl stood aloof beside her, unbothered by the arm around her neck. She leaned on her friend for support.


    I could feel my ears burning. I felt embarrassed and I couldn¡¯t do anything about it.


    ¡°Is this your first time picking up a girl?¡± The girl in white dress asked suddenly. Even though I didn¡¯t agree, she shook her head and told me, ¡°It''s fine if you think a girl is gorgeous or beautiful, but girls don¡¯t like to hear those words from a stranger. If you want to get to know someone, you should start with a simple hey or hi and go from there. You could then ask her about her day or how she¡¯s doing. Build up the conversation to the point where you can tell her that you find her attractive or whatever. And then you could ask for her name and number. If you¡¯d like,¡±


    ¡°Look at the love guru go.¡± Her pocked.


    The girl in white dress stung back. ¡°Why? Do you want me to tell you how to get together with Sanjay?¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up!¡±


    I heard her words and my mind directly reminded me of Sonam. She actually cared about me. Or did she?


    ¡°What if,¡± The words brought their attention back to me. I believe my heart raced faster than it had when I was approaching them. ¡°What if a girl¡¯s interested in you but you are too insecure about it? Do you still ask her out even if you know you will only disappoint her?¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± The girl in the golden jacket jested. ¡°How shameless can you be? You were just trying to pick her up. Now you are asking for elationship advice from her?¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± The girl in white dress slapped her friend¡¯s hand, causing her to hiss in pain and pull away from her.


    ¡°How serious is she?¡± She asked me in return.


    Was Sonam serious about me? ¡°Not that serious,¡± I said conservatively. ¡°But,¡±


    ¡°But?¡±


    ¡°I hear her talking about me all the time.¡±


    ¡°And you say she¡¯s not serious.¡± The girl in golden jacked snorted out. ¡°Why are all the boys so dumb?¡±


    ¡°I know, right?¡± The girl in white said.


    ¡°Look,¡± She told me. ¡°Whether she likes you or not isn¡¯t that important. There is only one question here-- do you like her? If you do then you should tell her. Then respect her decision. It¡¯s annoying when boys don¡¯t understand that no means no.¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± Her friend had a different opinion. ¡°You could grab her hand and whisk her off her feet. Pull her into your arms and take her to dance.¡± She said grabbing her friend''s hand and pulling her to dance.


    They seemed like very good friends. I felt kinda jealous of what they had going.


    I, kinda numb, kinda jealous, walked back to Kartick¡¯s side. Who stood confused and aggrieved, waiting for me.


    ¡°What happened out there, man?¡± He said. ¡°You were talking for so long and then they started dancing. What did you guys talk about?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°They gave me tips on how to pick up girls.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me, seriously?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±


    ¡°What about the dancing?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I guess,¡± I turned around to look at the girls. They were gone. ¡°That¡¯s who they are.¡±


    It was almost seven o¡¯clock when I returned home. I was right about my hyperventilation problem. It was caused by the Sun. I was just too hot. Once I breathed in the chilled air-conditioned air blowing in the mall, I was fine. My face returned to its normal color. I stopped sweating and breathing like a bull and everything was normal. Kartik also lost interest when he saw me calming down after downing three glasses of chilled water. I didn¡¯t have a problem on the way back with the sun gone away for a night out, leaving behind a cool breeze.


    Kartik tried the same trick with a few more girls, but not all girls liked his antics. Which one of them proved by throwing the soda she was drinking at his face. At least she didn¡¯t pursue it further and let him go easily. Though the giggles from the crowd sure made Kartik quiet for a while. It added insult to his injury when he tried to call the girl whose number he had gotten and a guy picked up and started listing all the dishes available at their roadside restaurant in a single breath. That was how I realized the girls also knew how to have fun.


    I didn¡¯t get much sweetness for my efforts. Even though I had the hardware, the software was still obsolete and way out of date with the girls. I learned a valuable lesson today that perhaps, it wasn¡¯t just my face that pushed the girls away. Perhaps, it was the whole of me. I thought of disguising my insides into something nice and sweet like ice cream. Then I shook my head to disintegrate that disguising thought. Perhaps, a few books on the intricacies of approach and behavior would have better helped me.


    Anyways, returning home, I went straight to my room. I didn¡¯t have much to do. I just didn¡¯t find it worthwhile to spend my time fighting with my parents over their delusions. I was somewhat tired and didn¡¯t go to ask for dinner. I simply sprawled out on my bed wondering. Superbrain made sure I wouldn¡¯t want to waste my time on useless things like watching movies. It called my outing with Kartik an experience in extroversion and communication, which it was.


    Not in the mood to go online or watch a movie, I picked up a book and started reading. I started with physics, read a chapter then picked up chemistry and read a chapter until Abhey came to my room to call me for dinner.


    I was so engrossed in studying I didn¡¯t hear my mother calling. My anger was long gone. I had just expended a lot of energy reading and remembering the books. So I closed up shop and went out with him. My father was already on the table eating. Mother was in the kitchen cooking. Rani sat beside my father looking to get a score. Someone had already laid out a plate for me on the table. There was rice in a cooker and a container full of steaming red beans¡­ my favorite. Was that my mother¡¯s way of apologizing? I didn¡¯t know, but I ate, three plates full of rice.


    My mother had taken a seat by the time I filled the third plate and my father was staring at my face as if looking at a circus freak. I didn¡¯t say anything and ate with relish.


    I was the last one to get up from the table. I picked up after myself and went to do the dishes. I had made a promise and wasn¡¯t going to break it. My mother had already washed some dishes and I washed the rest. By the time I got free, it was already ten pm.


    With some energy back in my bones, I studied for some more until it was midnight.


    Tonight I needed a way to store the excessive sunlight absorbed by photosynthesis so it wouldn¡¯t heat up my body and turn me into a steam engine.


    [The Daily superpower system has heard your wish!]


    [A Battery is a superpower that like a physical battery allows you to store energy. Only in this case, the energy is stored inside your body. You can only absorb one form of energy besides biological energy at lv-1.]


    [Task level: D]


    [Help a good person.]


    [Would you like to accept the task to acquire the ability? Yes/No]

 Ch-14: Oct-8

    I kept thinking about my task on my way to school.


    It was my first D-level task and the first time the system had asked me to help someone. Maybe, this was just a start. Maybe, I¡¯d be catching bank robbers and fighting ingenious supervillains in the future. Did I have the strength to perform such tasks? Perhaps, I would at some point.


    For now, I needed to stay on track and help a good person. Were there any good people in our world?


    How do you distinguish a good guy from a bad guy? Does selflessness make someone a good person or does it mean that they are an idiot? Is it a bad thing to be greedy in our selfish world?


    I wished the system had pointed me in that direction and not let me out blind to fend for myself. Now I was just lost.


    Anyway, the school bus was full again. There were no empty seats available. We were only a little way from the school so it didn¡¯t matter if the rest got a seat or not, but I had a task to perform. I decided to give my seat to a girl. She was one of the quiet ones, always lost in her own thoughts. She was a big girl and no one liked to share a seat with her. So she had to stand in the way every day. I didn¡¯t know her name, but I knew she was  Abhey''s classmate.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I nudged my brother on the shoulder.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Do you think she¡¯s a good person?¡± I said gesturing toward the girl.


    ¡°Whom her,¡± Abhey scoffed at me.


    ¡°Wanna find out?¡± He wanted to stop me at first, but then he probably thought of something and nodded.


    ¡°Sure,¡± He said, not knowing I was going to involve him in my performance.


    Although I said I would do it, I still found it hard to conjure up the courage to act. The same thing happened last evening. I went to pick up the girl and ended up getting love lessons from her and her friends. I didn¡¯t want to mess up again like that. So I quickly made a plan and recited the line I would say and how I would perform.


    I motivated myself and waved my hand to the girl to get her attention. She looked around before pointing at herself in confusion, asking if I was talking to her.


    I nodded and told her, ¡°Here, you can have my seat.¡±


    I didn¡¯t wait for her to agree and stood up from the seat. Truthfully, I felt anxious throughout the whole ordeal. I felt my ears burning. I, an introverted and shy guy, had a lot of problems doing the deed. And the stares that everyone gave me, let¡¯s not just talk about them.


    The girl looked confused at first as did the rest of the students on the bus then she realized what I meant and started shaking her head in disagreement


    ¡°No, no, there is no need.¡±


    ¡°Sit down. I need to stand for a while anyway. My legs are numb from sitting down.¡± I said getting out of her way.


    ¡°It¡¯s up to you,¡± I added without pressuring her into doing it. I raised a fist in my heart for the perfect acting. I was neither too stiff nor too hard with my delivery. The entire act was gentle as a breeze. Best of all, it made me feel good about myself and gave me a much-required confidence boost.


    Who knew helping someone was such an easy task? I wondered why I¡¯d never done it before. Probably because I was one of those in need of help. I didn¡¯t have the courage to stand up for myself. How was I to help others? But things had changed now. Maybe I could help others now. Maybe I would.


    The girl stood stunned for a while, staring between the seat and me before light eventually returned to her eyes. She thanked me and took the seat. I saw Abhey¡¯s face scrunch up into a ball, which made me happier. Perhaps the girl thought I was smiling at her. She dropped her head in shyness making it slightly awkward for me. A few noticed that little interaction and their eyes gleamed knowingly. I hoped they wouldn¡¯t ask me about it. I wouldn¡¯t know what to say.


    The task didn¡¯t complete. There was that.


    Abhey was right. She was not a good girl, after all. It could also mean she didn¡¯t need my help and was doing just fine. I shook my head and started waiting for us to reach school.


    I was one of the first few to get off the bus today thanks to my generous act. I had just come down when I saw my math teacher getting out of another bus carrying a large canvas bag. It looked heavy and she was struggling with it. Miss Nuri, a recent college graduate, was in between studies. Someone had the gall of asking her why she decided to become a teacher and we all learned that she was taking some time off her studies to prepare for higher education. Instead of wasting time at home, she decided to come teach.


    Was she a good person? It was impossible for someone her age not to have done a few or more fallacies in their lifetime. Still, who knows? I might hit the jackpot. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?


    I didn¡¯t wait for Abhey and rushed to help her, to turn helping into a habit. Something told me I would need to jump at every chance or make a chance where there was none if I wanted to complete this atrociously difficult task.


    ¡°Morning Madam,¡± I caught her off guard, frightening the poor soul. She almost dropped the bag she carried.


    ¡°Oh, Sahil¡­¡± She said between deep breaths and nervous laughter.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mam. Did I frighten you?¡± I found it easier to talk to her because she didn¡¯t intimidate me as other girls did. She was pretty and feeble, but I didn¡¯t like her like that. My heart would have been in my throat otherwise.


    ¡°I just saw you¡­ carrying the bag¡­ which looked quite heavy, to be honest, and thought maybe¡­ I could help?¡± I said.


    She was flabbergasted. ¡°You mean, you want to help me carry it?¡± She asked in a confused tone. As if wondering why I was approaching to help her.


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± I nodded. ¡°So can I? If you don¡¯t mind,¡±


    ¡°Umm¡­ sure, I guess?¡± She cautiously handed me the bag and then sprang up to grab the strap.


    ¡°Wait, this isn¡¯t a prank, is it? You are not going to run away with the bag, are you?¡± She looked around carrying a silly smile, looking for my illusionary assistants.


    She was just too cute. I couldn¡¯t help but start laughing.


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s exactly what I want to do. So are you ready?¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.¡°Ready for what?¡±


    ¡°To learn: if I only want to help you, or I have some mischievous motive,¡± I said waiting for her to let go.


    She thought for a minute, staring at me without blinking before releasing the strap. She kept her eyes on me to make sure I wouldn¡¯t run away with it.


    ¡°All right,¡± I said. ¡°Thank you for trusting me once. Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± She wasn¡¯t convinced, but my demeanor must have told her that I wasn¡¯t looking for trouble. She relaxed her vigilance and answered, ¡°To the teacher¡¯s room,¡±


    We started walking.


    ¡°Why are you doing this? I mean helping¡­ me?¡± She asked. ¡°You usually don¡¯t like to be bothered with anything. So what changed?¡± She hit that nail right on the head, all right. My heart skipped a beat as my mind raced to look for an appropriate answer in the sea of nothingness until I saw light at the end of the tunnel.


    ¡°For change,¡± The words scared me because they came straight out of me. And they were probably true.


    ¡°Hmm, what are you trying to change?¡±


    I didn¡¯t want to dwell on this matter more than we already had. I changed the topic. ¡°What¡¯s in the bag anyway? Why is it so heavy?¡±


    ¡°Your test books,¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ can I get a few extra points for my magnanimity?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± She said jokingly.


    ¡°Perhaps, I should run away with it so you can¡¯t return them to us.¡± I joked back.


    We didn¡¯t talk again on the way. I dropped her bag in the teacher¡¯s room and came back to my classroom. The task didn¡¯t complete again. I was right. Our math teacher wasn¡¯t a good girl either.


    I took a moment at the class door to look around. The lights were off, but there was enough natural light coming from the large side windows to brighten the classroom. My life was changing faster than I could imagine. For now, the changes were small and invisible. Soon I would be so far ahead of everyone that they would not even be able to imagine the distance between us. This classroom, the noise, was already giving me a feeling of nostalgia. Sighing, I stepped inside.


    I saw Sonam sitting on the seat next to mine and felt a pang in my chest. Kartik said, Sonam wouldn¡¯t have held my hand if she didn¡¯t trust me. I didn¡¯t know where her trust came from because I had not done anything trustworthy at all.


    I took a seat on the bench next to her and sat like a mannequin not knowing how to behave. Kartik hadn¡¯t arrived yet. I looked at the watch. He was late. He usually arrived at school before me. He was probably taking a holiday. My thought and he hit the door at the same time. He entered the classroom kicking the door open like a knight wearing shining armor. He didn¡¯t shake hands with anyone, swaggered to the back of the class, and threw his carry-on on the wall side of our bench like a hyena marking his territory. Then, instead of asking or telling me to step aside, he jumped over the bench, leaving footprints on the table, and occupied the seat next to mine as if it owed him money.


    ¡°Mother fucker,¡± I uttered aloud in annoyance.


    He ignored the insult and grabbing my shoulder, started shaking me. ¡°What¡¯s up, Romeo! Did you sleep last night or did you keep looking at your hand?¡±


    It took me a while to understand what he meant. I slapped him away and told him to fuck off. He laughed aloud before opening his bag and tearing a page from his notebook. I wondered what he was doing with it. Then I saw the large footprint he¡¯d left on the table and my eyes gleamed.


    ¡°Let me do it,¡± I stopped him, took the page from his stunned hand, and started wiping the table. I cleaned both sides and went away to throw the ruined paper in the trash. I came back to find him staring at me like he had seen a ghost.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked in complete seriousness. ¡°And what did you do to my friend?¡±


    That gave me a d¨¦j¨¤ vu-like feeling. Where had I heard those words before?


    ¡°Wait,¡± He sprang up. ¡°It¡¯s not because of her is it? You didn¡¯t get her number, did you? Did you?¡±


    The way he said it made me so annoyed. Why did he find it so impossible? Couldn¡¯t I have gotten the number of the girl in a white dress? I thought about it and found nothing wrong with Kartik¡¯s reaction. It really would have been a miracle to get her number. Hell, I even forgot to ask her name. Shit!


    ¡°I told you it¡¯s nothing like that.¡± I wanted to see if Sonam heard him, but I wasn¡¯t a complete idiot either. ¡°She gave me relationship advice instead.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Kartik said interestedly. ¡°What did she say?


    I wanted to tell him the truth, but I didn¡¯t have the courage to talk about this in front of Sonam. We hadn¡¯t interacted since that incident. I didn¡¯t want to make things any more awkward between us. I was my biggest enemy after all.


    Changing my words, I said, ¡°She told me to take the initiative.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all she told you? Liar. You two talked for well over ten minutes, buddy. Don¡¯t tell me that was all she said.¡±


    ¡°Well, it was more like they were talking to me rather than me talking to them,¡± I said and the conversation died down. I made an excuse to look to my left, saw Sonam talking and laughing with her friends, and sighed in relief.


    The bell rang and the teacher came. We stood up to greet the teacher and the class started.


    We were doing physics problems and they usually need a scientific calculator. I had been doing them almost every day these days and always had it on me, but my neighbors didn¡¯t. I saw it as a chance, not just to help a good person, I didn¡¯t know if Sonam was a good person or not, but I was taking the initiative to break the ice.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I called and Sonam hurriedly turned around as if she had been waiting for me to call her.


    ¡°Here,¡± I gave her the calculator. Her eyebrows scrunched in question, but she couldn¡¯t stop a faint smile from growing on her face. She was far too expressive for her own good.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want it?¡± She asked growing increasingly happier. I wasn¡¯t wrong to name her sunflower, but did I have the qualities required to be her Sun?


    ¡°I can solve the problem without it,¡± I said confidently. While someone thought, I was exaggerating.


    ¡°Really? You, can solve the problem?¡± Sonam¡¯s friend and benchmate, Kusum, chimed in from the side.


    I could understand the slander because I hadn¡¯t been active enough academically to be given the respect. Still¡­ what did I do to deserve that?


    I didn¡¯t care much about her question, but Kartik didn¡¯t like the tone of her voice. ¡°Does it have anything to do with you?¡± He said venomously. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like you can solve anything either.¡±


    ¡°You!¡±


    ¡°Stop her,¡± I told Sonam and turned to Kartik. ¡°What are you doing? Can¡¯t you shut up for a second?¡±


    ¡°She is making fun of you, man¡± He replied glaring. ¡°You might not care but I do.¡±


    Oh, that felt good. That was the first time someone had done something so nice to me.


    I couldn¡¯t help but smile and pat his shoulder, once, twice. The third time I slapped him too hard and he hissed in pain.


    ¡°Mother fucker! Is this how you pay for my friendship.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, sorry,¡±


    ¡°Anyways,¡± I turned back to Sonam. She still hadn¡¯t accepted the calculator and the others were already solving the problem.


    ¡°Here,¡± I called her again. ¡°You should take it. The teacher wouldn¡¯t necessarily ask us for the solution, but he might ask you.¡±


    ¡°All right, thanks.¡± Sonam hesitated first then took the calculator. Our fingers touched, causing a spark that surprised the both of us. She turned away at lightning speed while I tried to gulp down my rising heartbeat.


    So many things happened yet the task did not complete. Even Sonam wasn¡¯t a good girl. Were there even any good people in the world?


    I turned back and found Kartik squinting at me. ¡°How are we solving the problem now?¡±


    ¡°Come let me show you.¡±


    Did this consider as me helping him? I would not know because there was still no task completion notification. No wonder it was a D-level task. It was harder to find a good person than I had imagined.

 Ch-15: Oct-8

    ¡°Hey, do you think there are any good guys in this world?¡± I asked Kartik.


    ¡°Don¡¯t I consider as one?¡±


    I snorted involuntarily. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s funny.¡±


    He gave me a Stone Cold Steve Austin type of glare. ¡°I was being serious,¡± He said. If only he had his beer with him. We could have enjoyed his victory celebration performance.


    ¡°Do you think Kusum would say you are a good guy?¡± I said instead.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about me, but she¡¯s definitely not a good guy or gal.¡±


    ¡°Are you both talking about me?¡± Suddenly we heard, looked, and saw both Sonam and Kusum proudly looking in our direction. The former was only curious, the latter seemed agitated, vicious, and angry for some reason. Like an overinflated balloon.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Sonam said returning the calculator.


    ¡°Sure,¡±


    ¡°What were you guys talking about,¡± Sonam asked. Her question wasn¡¯t the problem. Her asking surprised me. Asking something meant interest, interest was a precursor to--


    ¡°He was asking me if there are any good guys in this world.¡±


    ¡®KARTIK!¡¯ I screamed in my head. Outwardly, I smiled.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Sonam tilted some toward us, a sign of genuine curiosity. ¡°What are the qualifications of this so-called good guy?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if there are any in the world, but it¡¯s definitely not you guy.¡± Kusum snorted out from behind her. She wrapped her arms around her chest and looked away as if not interested in our conversation. Her twitching ears ratted her out, however.


    ¡°He,¡± I started,


    ¡°Or she,¡± Sonam added,


    ¡°Have you met any good girls?¡± Kartik added on the top, making her frown. I elbowed him and told her not to worry about him. ¡°He¡¯s an idiot.¡±


    ¡°At least, I got a girl''s number,¡± Kartik mumbled and I had to elbow him again in panic.


    ¡°He or she,¡± I paused to receive Sonam¡¯s agreement. Sonam nodded and I continued, ¡°Should be kind,¡±


    ¡°And help others in need,¡±


    ¡°They can¡¯t be selfish,¡± Kusum added stressing the pronoun as if figuring that out made her better than us.


    ¡°And they,¡± Kartik squeezed out. ¡°Need to be poor, and ready to help others regardless of their own needs.¡±


    ¡°Why does a good guy have to do with being poor?¡± Sonam asked.


    ¡°Just to put him in contrast with others,¡± Kartik indulged her.


    ¡°So according to you all, a good guy is a kind person who¡¯d admit their mistake upon being slapped. Who¡¯d smile and laugh when someone steals from them and gives away his money to others even if he¡¯s barely making do himself?¡± Kusum sneered. ¡°That¡¯s not a good guy; that¡¯s a punching bag.¡±


    ¡°They, not he.¡± Kartik said with a sneer. He hadn¡¯t forgotten her insult and this was his revenge.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t act stupid. You know exactly what I mean.¡± Kartik answered with a frown.


    ¡°I really don¡¯t understand what you mean,¡± Kusum said grinning deviously.


    Kartik glared at her for a short while before deciding to admit defeat after some cajoling.


    Sonam shook her head. ¡°I guess these are no good guys in this world then.¡±


    Kusum said, ¡°Doesn¡¯t donating money to the poor make you a good person?¡±


    ¡°If you are talking about the capitalists, they only do it for tax reasons.¡± Kartik brushed her off. ¡°Besides, they only donate to their private funds and that¡¯s like changing money from one hand to another.¡±


    ¡°What about when you donate money to the homeless or the beggars,¡± Kusum asked again.


    ¡°That¡¯s what you do to make yourself feel better.¡± Kartik poked.


    I asked Sonam to control her friend. She shook her head and told me to control Kartik. I replied with a shake of my head too. So we let them compete.


    ¡°Don¡¯t everyone do good things to make themselves feel better?¡± Kusum said through gritted teeth.


    Kartik chuckled twice. ¡°A good person shouldn¡¯t do good deeds for anything in return.¡±


    ¡°According to you, a good person is an altruist who sees good in everything. Who forgives a murderer for apologizing and a thief for returning the money.¡± Kusum looked agitated like she¡¯d rather die than lose to Kartik.


    I whispered to Kartik and told him to give up, and he listened.


    ¡°The good guy has it tough,¡± Kartik said solemnly. Taking a step back.


    ¡°I--¡± Kusum¡¯s eyes opened wide in realization then a genuine victorious smile replaced the grimace on her face. ¡°I never thought it was so hard to be a good guy.¡± She conceded. ¡°Makes you appreciate it more when someone helps you without anything in return,¡± Kusum said which made Sonam¡¯s cheeks burn red.


    Kartik poked me on the back and I kicked him under the table.


    The conversation broke there and soon it was recess. I finished my lunch with Kartik, who grabbed one of my chapattis and ran away before I could stop him. I didn¡¯t go to see Anjali. Anyway, I wanted to, but no means no, right? I had to respect her decision. However, my feelings, broken and rotting, were a weight on my chest and I needed to be rid of it before anything else.


    I was going to the canteen when I saw Anjali coming toward me. She was with one of her new friends.  Someone who didn¡¯t look like the gossip type. Someone I didn¡¯t know either.


    ¡°She has made her decision. You should make your decision too.¡± The words turned around in my head, and I knew what I needed. I needed closure. At least I had to know that my thoughts were true and not some presumptions that I believed in because of my low self-esteem.


    ¡°Hey, do you have a minute?¡± I called Anjali. I could always call her for some reason. I never had a problem talking to her even though I always made a mistake and made a fool of myself. I almost thought she would ignore me, instead, she stopped.


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    ¡°What?¡± She said with a smile, acting as if she hadn¡¯t been deliberately ignoring me for the past couple of months.


    I looked at her friend who was in turn looking at me, like watching a matinee show in which we were the actors. Thankfully, there were no cameras around.


    ¡°Alone¡­ if you don¡¯t mind,¡± I said with some hesitation.


    She must have understood what I wanted to talk about because her smile faded, replaced by worry.


    ¡°Please, for old time¡¯s sake,¡± I couldn¡¯t say if it was my words or my demeanor but she glanced lightly at her friend before nodding slightly. It scared the shit out of me. We walked together into a deserted classroom. She kept her head lowered and eyes on the ground all the way.


    She stood by the door, ready to flee if I dared act presumptuous. It hurt me some to know that she didn¡¯t trust me enough. I didn¡¯t call her inside but stood beside her, leaning on the wall.


    My heart bounced around in my chest in trepidation. I wasn¡¯t ready. I hadn¡¯t prepared anything. I didn¡¯t know what to do-- whether to confess or propose, knowing she had a boyfriend. There was not a piece of me that felt I was good enough for her. I thought it would be her bad luck if she agreed. I was so scared of her, afraid of her yes.


    But that was the old me, the one before the system. The one who couldn¡¯t disguise himself as literally anyone. The one who didn¡¯t have the potential to¡­ be a god. That me in the past was a sub-par guy, not good at anything. Who had no answers, no jokes, and almost no future? The kind of guy anyone could, and many did, roll over like a piece of dirt.


    I was a good guy.


    ¡°I¡¯m scared,¡± I said putting my back on the wall. I couldn¡¯t look at her. I was afraid to see her thoughts because her face was too transparent, her expressions too loud.


    ¡°I¡¯m Scared of you. I¡¯ve been for some time now,¡± She listened quietly.


    The classroom was so quiet I could hear both of our heartbeats. They were so in tune with each other. So in synch. It made me choke. Took me a while to get over it before I said,


    ¡°I am scared that I would say something foolish again and you would pull back further. I have never meant to hurt you really. And I know that I have. I have said some things and done some things that I shouldn¡¯t have, but they came out of me because I was hurting. I was hurting that you were gonna leave me. Therefore, I pushed you back. Thought if I didn¡¯t talk to you, you wouldn¡¯t have any reason to hate me more. I don¡¯t want to be the reason behind your sadness. I only wanted to make you smile. The words came pouring out. A deluge of feelings buried deep inside. Once the dam broke, there was no holding them back.


    I turned to her, I couldn¡¯t see her. My sight was blurry. ¡°For you, we only started talking after we sat next to each other after the new sitting arrangement, but I¡¯ve always had a crush on you. I was looking for a friend on my first day. I looked around the class and saw that everyone already had someone. And they were all so happy. I didn¡¯t feel like anyone needed me or would care about me. Then I saw you. You looked like you needed someone too. Like you¡¯d care. You looked so alone and hurt. You had a smile on your face, but it felt like a disguise you¡¯d put on your face to deceive others.¡±


    I had to pause because my voice was cracking.


    My heart beat in my ears. I was breathing laboriously. Who knew breathing could be such a tough job? It was harder to start again, but I gathered courage from the depths of my soul and started again.


    ¡°You kept your head down even when you talked to others. The more I saw you the more I wanted to help you, to make you smile. And I have tried. Although not successful, I tried. Unfortunately, it was not enough. Now I see you with your new friends, laughing and talking so happily and it hurts me. It hurts me to know that you don¡¯t need me anymore. And there is nothing I can do about it. I can¡¯t change who I am.¡±


    ¡°I am in love with you, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯m good enough to be your boyfriend. That¡¯s, what I wanted to say.¡±


    ¡°I¡ª know,¡± She whispered. The words came out barely audible, but they were louder than any thunder crackling in the sky on a cloudy day. I felt something breaking in my mind. It was hope. Now it was ash.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± She threw out into the fire before running out of the classroom, leaving me with myself alone in the empty room.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I muttered when the system notified me of task completion. Now I could store the light energy so it would not heat up my body. But what was the point? At least for that moment, the world could have crumbled and burned and I wouldn¡¯t have cared less about it.


    ¡°Where were you?¡± Kartik asked when I returned back to the class. I wasn¡¯t in the mood to talk to him. I took seat and slammed my forehead on the table, then wrapped my arms around my head and closed my eyes.


    ¡°I know,¡± The words echoed in my head like a pendulum. Rocking back and forth, tempting me to do something horrifying.


    What if I changed her mind about me? What if I made her forget that she had a boyfriend? What if I¡ª


    I shook my head, rubbing my face against the table hard enough to make my skin burn. ¡°Shut up,¡± I told myself. ¡°Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!¡±


    ¡°Hey, Sahil,¡±


    ¡°WHAT!¡± The anger exploded on Kartik. He backed off onto the wall to get away from me. I must have looked horrifying because he stared at me with wide-open eyes. His fear made me remember that I was in class. I looked around and found that the teacher was in the class too and everyone was looking at me.


    Sonam looked concerned. I couldn¡¯t look at her. I felt ashamed as if I was cheating on her. Did it count as cheating? I didn¡¯t want to know.


    ¡°Is everything all right?¡± The teacher asked.


    I sealed my lips tight and nodded somehow. Then I closed my eyes and dropped my head to stop paying attention to everything and everyone. For now, all I wanted was to be left alone.

 Ch-16: Oct-8-Data vision

    I got home, went to my room, threw my bag on the empty chair, jumped onto my bed, and buried my face under the pillow.


    A few minutes later, I heard my mother outside my room asking me, ¡°Tell me how many chapattis you want to eat today. Don¡¯t complain later that I didn¡¯t bake enough for you.¡± Her words came to an abrupt halt when she reached my door. Probably because she saw me hiding under the pillow like a kid scared of thunder.


    The work I put in my apology must have worked because she wouldn¡¯t have run after me and come to my room otherwise. It didn¡¯t give me any happiness, however.


    Anjali¡¯s no had always been a sure but hypothetical thing until now. I always knew she wouldn¡¯t agree to be with me, but to hear it from her, in her voice, from her mouth, in her words¡­


    No matter how I said it, it was a torment.


    I hoped my mother wouldn¡¯t ask me what happened and she didn¡¯t. She retreated from my room and caught Abhey on the way to his room in the hallway and asked him that question instead, an earshot away.


    ¡°Did something happen to Sahil at school?¡±


    ¡°How would I know?¡± Abhey answered in a lackluster manner. Then he must have remembered something because he jumped and asked, ¡°Wait, why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s Lying in his room with his head under the pillow.¡± I could hear the worry in my mother¡¯s voice. It was thick and sticky. I had a premonition she would not leave any stone unturned until she got an answer. I was proved wrong.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ well, I would know anyway.¡± Abhey said. Then I heard his footsteps going away.


    I debated between going for lunch and staying in my room. The latter was going to make my mother so anxious. She would later make my father anxious, who would then come to ask me what happened. I could handle my mother, but it would be an entirely different matter if my father got involved. Then my problem would become a family issue and family issues have tendencies to spiral out of control.


    Down as I felt, I pulled myself off the bed. Changed out of my school clothes into something comfortable and walked out of the room.


    My mind was usually a whirlpool of thoughts. I had so many thoughts I couldn¡¯t keep them down. I repeat my conversations and actions in my mind to find the mistakes and their solutions. That evening my mind was devoid of thoughts. It was just silent. I was not even in a daze that you get in after taking too much fever medicine.


    I was just lost.


    I took a seat at the table. My mother served me lunch. She said one thing or another. I faked a smile and dug into the food. Before long I had finished it. Then I went to wash the dishes. I didn¡¯t know what I washed or for how long. When I came to, I was in my room, lying on the bed and staring at the fan.


    It was 10:00 pm.


    I got up to take a leak and heard the TV crying out in my parent¡¯s room from the lobby, telling me they were still awake. Abhey¡¯s door was jarred, the lights inside dim and soothing. I went to check up on him or to be in someone¡¯s company and found him sleeping. It was a very unusual thing for him. He usually stayed up late. Sometimes even past midnight. I closed his door and went away. I didn¡¯t bother my parents and didn¡¯t want to eat.


    I was taking a leak in the toilet when I remembered I had forgotten something very important. I had forgotten to test out my latest superpower, battery.


    The superpower was different from my imagination. I thought it would be like those golden cores in cultivation novels that exist in a different plane inside the body. The battery however was very much a real and physical thing.


    As soon as I got the skill, I had a feeling as if something was asking my permission to act, to take root. It was a personal, very humble sensation. At first, I was a little scared of the consequence, then thinking that there was no getting over it, I still acted like an adult and made it appear in a somewhat hidden out of way place on my body. I put it under my left armpit. Not directly, in there, but on the side of my chest where it would remain hidden under my arm even if I were shirtless and wouldn¡¯t trouble me much either if it got bigger, which I hoped it wouldn¡¯t. There was a sharp pain when I permitted it to grow and then I didn¡¯t feel anything much afterward other than a little bump on my bicep of the left arm. It was a physical thing.


    I didn¡¯t have time to check it out in the school, but now that I was looking at it, it appeared surprisingly normal. It looked more like a slightly bigger and harder ear tag. I could feel its capacity. It was barely full but had enough capacity to store sunlight for the next few days. The best thing was that I could actively use this stored sunlight and convert it into biological energy over the night. A tiresome operation, so I decided to automate it over the next few days.


    I just hoped my parents wouldn¡¯t think this thing was a tumor and try to take me to a doctor. Otherwise, it¡¯d be a lot of fun trying to explain to them that it was a harmless thing. Thankfully, I could detach the battery from my body, though it couldn¡¯t be attached back and only a new one could be grown later. So even if my parents found out I could always pluck it up and throw it out, and pretend it fell off on its own.


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    The only fly in the ointment was that I couldn¡¯t see the amount of energy I expended to use my powers. I felt a need to rectify this as soon as possible.


    Coming out of the bathroom, I went out for a stroll to cool my head. I was in a low kinda slow mood and needed some time for myself. We didn¡¯t have a backyard but we did have a wide front yard with a flower garden that my parents very carefully grew and adorned. There was an old eucalyptus tree growing on the far corner of our front yard near the gate where a few squirrels lived. I had fun with them from time to time. At night, all these beautiful things seemed a little off, covered in a haze, unable to revive that same sense of comfort that I felt around them in the daytime.


    There was no moon in the sky and the wind was as cold as my heart. I only stayed outside for a few minutes before going back inside. I was wide awake and didn¡¯t feel like doing anything. I pulled my books out, but couldn¡¯t study either.  Could have forced myself to read but it wouldn¡¯t have achieved anything. I started thinking about my future instead. Not a future where I finish high school, pass the entrance exam, get into a college, job, marriage, have kids, death. That kind of future no longer applied to me. I was sure of that.


    With a new superpower every day I didn¡¯t know where my future lay. I could end up in a secret government facility if I was not smart enough or I could end up running everything from the dark. I really didn¡¯t want the former to come true. The only way for that to happen was if no one knew that I had a superpower. I meant no one could know: not my parents, not Abhey, and not my friends. No one!


    I also would have to use my power in a way that wouldn¡¯t leave suspicious crumbs for the government to follow later. I was smart enough to understand that everything you did on the internet left a mark and there were foreign intelligence agencies keeping a tight eye on all the activity. So I didn¡¯t even think about putting out any word on a platform or social service.


    I also decided that If one day I needed to appear in front of the public then I would take another identity or create a fake one that was so far away from my real identity that no one could figure out the truth.


    As for what I would do with my superpowers¡ªI was still indecisive. My powers were still very grounded and real. There was nothing much extraordinary about them except disguise. I was still very much a human with nothing over others besides my learning ability. I was still no good with a stick or a shield. I had no combat or defensive capabilities. My perception was my weakest attribute. I had no way of knowing if someone was holding a grudge or planning something insidious against me.


    I needed powers to cover all these areas without excluding strengthening my intelligence. I also needed a better way to read books. Reading, and memorizing books word by word, and line by line wasted too much energy and headspace.


    If that wasn¡¯t a headache enough, I also needed a way to make money. Money to feed my energy needs, to create an infrastructure from where I could run my future operation, to buy. Money was the most important asset that I was missing. Every operation needs two things, money and people. And I was missing both. Money was easier to get but difficult to hide. People I could find easily with the right superpowers. How could anyone hide their insidious thoughts from me if I could read their minds and knew their innermost secrets?


    I was sure there was a power like that that could tell me everything about a person: from their strengths and weaknesses to their thoughts, about the probability of them taking various actions, the chance of them doing something, their bad deeds, their affiliations, with a built-in lie detector. A power that could analyze a person from head to toe and tell me how much curly hair they had eaten in their lifetime.


    It would get it in the future.


    My main priority now was to quantify my abilities and body qualities. I wanted to see at all times how much energy was stored in my body and how I was using it. A power that could put numbers to my skills and tell me how much energy I consumed when I burn a page into my memory and how much energy I get from photosynthesis. I was tired of just winging the numbers all the time.


    When midnight struck and the feeling of contentment reached its zenith, I spoke my mind and the system responded with this:


    [The Daily superpower system has heard your wish!]


    [Digital vision allows you to perceive everything in the world in data form. Allowing you to collect and analyze data faster and more efficiently.]


    [Task level: E]


    [Verbally count numbers until the task is completed.]


    [Would you like to accept the task to acquire the ability? Yes/No]


    This was an interesting task. There were two things.


    First, I could now say that the tasks weren¡¯t increasing in strength with the number of superpowers. And they were dependent on the superpowers themselves. Meaning, the battery power that I had acquired in the morning was stronger than the rest of the powers I had acquired in the past.


    It also meant that I didn¡¯t need to worry about the tasks exploding in difficulty later and if some task was too high level for me or too difficult to perform I could postpone it for the moment until I was strong enough to complete it. Or perhaps, that was what the task level suggested in the first place¡ªthe danger level!


    If I were stronger, say I could count to infinity in a second, then perhaps this task wouldn¡¯t even be an E-level task. Perhaps, the system would simply give me the power and be done with it.


    ¡°One¡­¡± I said and giggled. I was not lucky enough to complete the task on the first number. If the last task was a test of my inner strength, then this time the system was testing my luck.


    ¡°Hopefully, I wouldn¡¯t have to count to infinity. I only have one day, after all,¡±


    Second, I should not have jinxed myself.

 Ch-17: Oct-9

    ¡°Thirteen thousand eight hundred and fifty-four, thirteen thousand eight hundred and fifty-five, thirteen thousand eight hundred and fifty-six,¡±


    ¡°What do you keep muttering?¡± My mother asked while unloading another heavy stuffed parantha onto my plate. ¡°You still haven¡¯t eaten your Parantha? Eat up or will miss your bus.¡±


    She gave my brother a questioning look to which he replied with a shrug.


    ¡°He probably wants attention,¡± Abhey said out loud earning a glare from our mother. She muttered to him to shut up and then hurried back into the kitchen. The parantha cooking on the pan was starting to burn. I could hear its death throes from my seat.


    Rani sat right there by my side, eagerly waiting for me to feed her from my portion. We taught her all the wrong things growing up. She didn¡¯t know any of the tricks but she knew how to beg for food. I wondered whom she learned that from because we didn¡¯t teach her that.


    She watched me with her big wet eyes, carrying a look that had ¡®give me everything¡¯ written all over it. I sighed and gave her the first bite. I blew on it to cool it down, then dipped it into curd and dangled it in front of her mouth. She took a few sniffs, checking to see if she was getting the same stuff that I was eating. Then she warily took the piece and ran away to her bed on the other side of the room.


    My mother usually only baked parantha on weekends because it took a lot of preparation. They were heavy and greasy and contained an awful lot of calories. So she was either in a good mood or trying to cheer us up.


    But even they couldn¡¯t distract me today. The task, the bloody task had all of my attention. Yes, the task said to count numbers until the task was completed, and I thought I would be lucky enough to complete it in an hour at most. How wrong I was. I had been counting numbers since midnight last night and no luck yet. Fuck that! It was a bag full of bad luck.


    At first, I thought it wouldn¡¯t be that bad even if I had to keep counting numbers all day. They were only numbers. I blazed through the first hundred digits within a minute. They were so easy to speak. I thought I had the task in my grasp, but the counting slowed when I reached the hundreds. It took me a full six minutes to go from 101-1001. Going further, it took a whole minute to count every hundred numbers.


    It didn¡¯t take a long time for my jaw to tire and my throat to start cramping. Then began an endless cycle of me massaging my jaw, drinking water, and moaning about my shit luck. I was stuck and sleepy. There were times when I lost count and had to start over. I definitely skipped a few numbers too. By the time morning struck, I felt like a ghost stuck in an endless death cycle. I wished I had slept, but the fear of failing the task kept me going.


    I needed the superpower. It was as simple as that.


    I took my first break on the half an hour mark. There were constant breaks throughout the night. Their frequency kept fluctuating over time. My counting speed had slowed to a crawl after four hours of chanting the spell and now¡­. after counting thirteen thousand numbers, I had had enough.


    Did that mean I stopped counting? Well, not exactly. Now I only counted a number every time I exhaled. It was easier and less tiring. I couldn¡¯t say it didn¡¯t get me any less attention from, well¡­ everyone.


    Abhey ignored me during breakfast. He acted like it, but I knew he was watching and he was right. It did look like I was looking for attention. Maybe that was what the system was after. To make people stare at me so I would get used to them.


    I was tired, mentally exhausted, and now delusional. It was a matter of time before I went crazy.


    On the way to the bus, Arzoo looked at me weirdly. ¡°What are you doing?¡± She asked me?


    ¡°Ignore him,¡± Abhey said nonchalantly, looking straight. ¡°Don¡¯t feed his madness.¡±


    ¡°Abhey!¡± Arzoo shouted. ¡°Don¡¯t be mean to your brother.¡±


    ¡°Tch,¡± Abhey wasn¡¯t having it. ¡°He¡¯s my brother that¡¯s why I¡¯m not saying anything. I guess he¡¯s never gonna stand up for himself.¡± He clicked his tongue again and sped up, trying to create some distance from me.


    My cheeks burned as I watched him take off. He was disappointed in me. He probably believed that I was in trouble at school, and chose to hide down another rat hole instead of facing it head-on. I hoped he was just angry.


    I called him. ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    Abhey looked back and said sarcastically, ¡°Oh, the robot spoke. Finally! I guess the program fixed itself.¡±


    ¡°Fourteen thousand two hundred and ten,¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s still going. That¡¯s a shame. Well, to answer your question. Where I¡¯m going is none of your business. You do your thing. Whatever it is you are doing. And I¡¯ll do mine.¡±


    And then silence encompassed us before Arzoo eventually asked,


    ¡°Did you start counting from one?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡±


    ¡°That must have taken a long time then. But why?¡±


    ¡°Because I need to do this,¡± I said but I didn¡¯t stop counting. The task didn¡¯t suggest I couldn¡¯t stop or take a break or have a conversation. Seeing their reactions, I decided to keep my voice low, a murmur or a whisper if you wish. I didn¡¯t want anyone else to hear me and worry.


    I got on the bus and saw Abhey sitting in the backseat.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t gonna sit with me?¡± I asked. He ignored me.


    I felt aggrieved and cold. Was I an embarrassment to him? I thought we were getting closer after the homework task. I didn¡¯t know something like counting numbers would pull us apart again. How fickle was our relationship? I turned over on the way to see what he was doing and found him sitting alone by the window looking outside, ignoring everyone next to him.


    At least I got to sit by the window for once. It was the only good thing that came out of the task. We soon reached school. The bugs stopped and so did we. All activities paused for a moment. Waiting for a change.  Abhey didn¡¯t walk with me either. He ran toward another bus that had stopped along with ours to chat with his classmates.


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    ¡°Oye, freak!¡± I heard on the way to the classes. The same boys had called me a monkey the other day. They were outside this time, leaning on the bus; and there were three of them. I flipped them the bird and they blew up laughing. It didn¡¯t feel great. At least I did something. Did it constitute me standing up for myself? I wished Abhey were there to tell me.


    It was a lonely walk to the classrooms. I found it amazing that walking alone could turn this exercise into a chore, one that took far too long to finish.


    I climbed the stairs and found someone awaiting me in the hallways outside the classrooms.


    He was someone from the class next door. I didn¡¯t know him, but since he was offering a hand in greeting, I shook it out of courtesy. We were classmates even though we weren¡¯t friends. He had other intentions, however. He tightly clenched my hand. I was surprised at first wondering what he wanted to do then spurt out anger from somewhere deep down inside me when I saw him grinning.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±  There was no warmth in that spoken word, only anguish.


    ¡°I wanted to talk to you about something. Something that happened yesterday,¡± He said holding a Cheshire grin that made him look like a lunatic.


    I couldn¡¯t pull my hand free. He was no pushover. He was an inch or two taller than me, and though not built with muscles, he had a strong grip. I was stuck in the position with my hand caught forcefully and no way out of this conversation.


    He wasn¡¯t alone. Another two guys stood behind him. Their expressions told me nothing. They kept a deadpan face, ignoring the conversation and keeping a lookout for a teacher.


    Were they planning to beat me up?


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked but I had a premonition that he was Anjali¡¯s boyfriend.


    I knew she had found another, but I didn¡¯t know who. I didn¡¯t care. I respected her a bit too much and trusted her to solve both of our problems. She handled her problem quite well but forgot to solve mine.


    ¡°Come on! We are friends. You don¡¯t need to hide your little secret from me. After all, it concerns me too. I¡¯m her boyfriend, after all.¡± He said with a sadistic smile.


    I felt my heart wring. Wasn¡¯t her boyfriend Ashok. Were they just friends? Had I wrongly assumed their relationship? I was right about one thing though. Anjali had replaced me with someone. Someone who didn¡¯t deserve her.


    Irritated from counting the numbers for the entire night, I felt like if he didn¡¯t let me go now something would happen. Girls like bad guys because they could say and do things that normal people couldn¡¯t, but I didn¡¯t think Anjali would say yes to this lunatic. I actually felt jealous of him. He was standing up for her. It was something that I couldn¡¯t do and yet here he was in all of his swagger, ready to get into a fight for her when she wasn¡¯t even looking. My pride couldn¡¯t even put up a fight. It admitted defeat and took the back seat. Then hate and anger took over.


    ¡°Let go,¡± Even I got a little afraid of the voice that came out of my throat. It was deep and cold, missing the usual inflictions and tones.


    ¡°What if I don¡¯t?¡± The guy said gripping my hand tighter. The smile just a tad bit wider. His eyes gleamed in a way that told me he wasn¡¯t scared of fighting if it came to that.


    ¡®You are a good guy.¡¯ ¡®When will you stand up for yourself.¡¯ The words echoed in my head. My arm moved on its own, swung, and missed.


    His face fell just a little. I heard his knuckles crack and knew the fist was coming for me. I couldn¡¯t move. Strangely enough, the punch had drained all of my strength. Kusum was right. Good guys are punching bags for the bad guys.


    He took a step back to create some distance between us to swing his arm only to stop midway when someone yelled his name.


    ¡°Yash, what are you doing? Let him go!¡± I saw Anjali rushing out of her classroom behind him. She didn¡¯t look at me. She didn¡¯t think I had the courage to confront him. She knew he was the one in control. She grabbed his free arm and pulled him away from me. She was saving me.


    I had never felt so useless before. So absolutely fucking useless.


    ¡°Haha, don¡¯t be angry,¡± Yash said. ¡°We were just chatting. Look. You are telling me to let him go when he¡¯s the one who¡¯s holding my hand.¡± I saw her looking at our hands and then she turned to me.


    ¡°Please,¡± She said.


    I didn¡¯t understand what she meant until I saw the handshake. He was right. I was the one holding on when she had already let go.


    Complete defeat. Nothing left. void.


    I released my grip over his hand and my arm fell limply to my side. Anjali grabbed his arm and pulled him away. He kept laughing at something, pulling her closer and she didn¡¯t fight. I stood there until they went inside their classroom. Then I stood there for some more, not knowing what to do. I was so lost, so drained, and so¡­ exhausted. We were on the second floor and I was standing next to an open window. The ground was a million miles away. Jump! My inner voice said. It scared me so much that I jerked away from there and ran toward my class.


    I still had the sense of mind to slow down and not bolt into the classroom. Checking myself at the door, I walked inside. Some classmates greeted me and I nodded to them, but I could feel my face melting. As my vision got blurry, I dropped my head and continued walking until I was at the end of the room and standing next to Kartik.


    He was talking to Sonam and Kusum. The conversation ceased as soon as he saw me. I told him I wanted the side seat and he didn¡¯t fight me. He stood up and let me inside. I got down to the seat and buried my head in my arms. Tears fell. They hadn¡¯t all day yesterday, but today they fell without stopping. The drops accumulated on the table. One, two, three, and four¡­


    I was so fucking stupid. To think she would care. I had an expectation when I confessed to her. I thought she might change after knowing how long I had been in love with her. She said she was sorry yesterday. I thought she might hesitate after going home. But I was wrong, so wrong. Obviously, they had been together for a while too long.


    Soon the tears stopped flowing and along with it the last of my hopes. My first love had ended.


    I wiped my face on my arm and raised my head.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± Kartik asked. He looked concerned. He was a very perceptive guy. He probably guessed something after yesterday¡¯s outburst and today¡¯s this¡­


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± I exhaled out with the breath. It might have helped to share my mind, but I couldn¡¯t tell him.


    Behind him, Sonam sat with her head lowered, somewhat depressed. Kusum was whispering something in her ears. I felt no desire to hear what they were talking about. I just wanted to be left alone. Would have been better had I stayed home.


    I might have had a complete meltdown if it wasn¡¯t for the counting. As the day progressed so did my counting. The numbers helped me out of the mood, calmed me down, and kept my mind occupied so I wouldn¡¯t think about her anymore.


    The numbers proved to be the perfect distraction.

 Ch-18: Oct-9

    ¡°What do you keep muttering?¡± Kartik asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m counting.¡±


    ¡°What? why?¡± They were both questions, not reactions.


    ¡°To calm down,¡± I explained. ¡°It¡¯s open knowledge that counting backwards helps alleviate anxiety and panic.¡±


    ¡°But you have been murmuring since the school started!¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    Kartik slapped the back of my head. ¡°So do you take me for a fool?¡±


    ¡°Ouch,¡± I reacted. ¡°I am not taking you for a fool¡­ because I know you are one.¡± I believed in taking an eye for an eye; that was how I played.


    ¡°Mother fucker! Ahh,¡± He balled his fists as if wanting to punch me then threw them down in disgust. ¡°So what happened yesterday,¡± He asked instead.


    This verbal punch hit right in my solar plexus, taking all air out of my lungs and making me breathless. I drew some air in to control the nausea and asked, ¡°Why do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not the one who wants to know.¡± He said with a laughing tone of voice.


    I looked at him and he gestured me to look behind him with his head. Sonam¡­ she wasn¡¯t paying attention but she must have asked him to ask me.


    I turned back to him and told him, ¡°There is nothing I have to say about yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Then what about this morning-- what are you hiding?¡±


    I saw Sonam¡¯s head turn slightly in our direction and understood that these two were playing games with me. Truthfully, I was not as enthusiastic about her as much as I was yesterday. The fight in the morning had sucked away my energy. I wished to end the day and move on. Go home. That was what I wanted to do. However Kartik had other plans.


    I sighed to relieve my heavy heart. I confessed to Anjali knowing the result. Yet, why was I so damn hurt over her answer?


    ¡°I need space,¡± I said to Kartik. ¡°Let me be for the day. We¡¯ll talk about it tomorrow.¡±


    Kartik snickered. ¡°Why just space? Take the whole damn keyboard while you are at it with all the little alphabets and numerals. But don¡¯t think I¡¯m letting you off without learning the truth.¡±


    He was so annoying! ¡°Why are you so interested in--¡±


    ¡°Like I said,¡± He interrupted. ¡°I¡¯m not the one who¡¯s interested. And I¡¯m getting paid.¡±


    ¡°Money?¡±


    ¡°Burger and coke,¡±


    ¡°You sold a friend over fast food?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t think so hard. You aren¡¯t that valuable.¡±


    We glared at each other before he snickered and I couldn¡¯t control my laughter either. That was so damn funny. Before I knew it, we were laughing out of our damn minds. I had trouble breathing, I was laughing so hard. I was crying. The tears of joy and sorrow flowed together, indistinguishable from each other. My screams turned into laughter and laughter turned into screams.


    By the time we stopped, I had changed. My chest was lighter. My ears no longer rang. My mind was clearer. I was happy again.


    For a second, I wanted to tell them everything. Then a spark of selfishness stopped me. It told me Sonam would leave me too if I told them anything. Then I would really lose everything.


    I guess I was just as selfish as everyone else was.


    Things changed for the good during the seventh period. It was the designated sports period and the whole class went to the ground to play a match of cricket.


    For those who don¡¯t know about Cricket, it¡¯s a sport very much like baseball where you hit a ball with a bat. In cricket, the bat is flat and the ball is bounced off a pitch, unlike baseball where the ball is thrown straight at you. Then there are the usual mix of various deliveries that a bowler can throw at a batsman like the slow ball, knuckleball, and fastball.


    But there are no home runs in cricket. There are runs, singles, doubles, and triples that the two batsmen on the popping crease complete by running between the pitch while the opposing fielders are fending for the ball. If the ball played across the ground gets past the boundary line it nets you four whole runs; while sending it flying past earns you six runs.


    We divided the teams, 8 players each. Not everyone wanted to play and the girls didn¡¯t want to step a foot under the sun. It was a bit hot out there. My battery helped store the excess sunlight away, allowing me to play an eventful game of cricket.


    We played a limited-overs match where each team was given ten overs each to score, with each over consisting of six balls or deliveries. In cricket, the overs are divided among many bowlers who bowl in tandem with each other.


    We won the toss and decided to bat first. We had one task, to score as many runs. Our democratically elected captain along with another player went out to open batting. Unfortunately, the other batsman was bowled on the first ball of the match.


    A game of cricket is played across a straight pitch with self-explanatory batting and a bowling end. The batter''s job is to defend his wickets as well as score runs. The bowler''s job is to save runs and to eliminate the batsmen. The same as in baseball with the key difference being you don¡¯t get three strikes in cricket. A batsman is given out if the ball hits the wickets (getting bowled), if he hits a flyball and someone catches it, or if he¡¯s found short of the running crease while completing a run.


    Another player took the batsmen¡¯s place and the game continued.


    I was still waiting for my turn sitting with my other teammates and silently counting my numbers when the system notified me of task completion. My world changed. For a second the whole world turned into lines, paths, and rays. I got so scared I fell backward and lay there on the ground with my eyes staring at the lines and the geometrical figures that constituted everything. It took a while for my world to calm down and return to normal.


    I was still in a daze when I heard someone calling my name. I saw the captain telling me to come to bat as another one of our wickets had fallen. Rajesh had gotten out in the second over after giving a catch to the wicketkeeper.


    Not sure what to do, I picked up a bat of my desired weight and went out to play.


    With the superpower came a general understating of it. Data vision was an active power and could be turned on and off at demand. According to my understanding, the vision could show me the personal data of an individual or the mathematical data between two objects.


    I activated data vision and suddenly lines appeared in my sight. One line stretched from me to the other end of the pitch and a number popped out on it reading 17 meters. Then I saw a widget denoting wind speed of 3 mph floating in the air. Beside it was a floating thermometer reading 28 degrees Celsius. It was a slightly warm day.


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    Then the play started and I had to pay attention to the game. The bowler started running and I saw his running speed, his energy, and concentration, then he threw the ball. The ball was moving toward me at the speed of 120km/hr, which was not bad considering we were recreational players and not Professionals. A line denoting the ball''s future path grew from the bowler''s hand and went past me. The bowl followed the same path a second later, whizzing past me before I could react.


    I was left stunned, not by the speed of the ball, but by my superpower. I could see the ball trajectory, damn it! Even the professional players played according to their instincts. Even they don¡¯t know where the bowl would go after getting pitched. I did. Didn¡¯t it make me the greatest player of all time?


    ¡°Great one, Sameer! Throw it straight next time. He can¡¯t play. Bowl him out!¡± The wicketkeeper encouraged the bowler from behind the wickets.


    I ignored him and eagerly waited for the next delivery. The bowler bowled. The ball trajectory suggested the ball would be slightly toward my legs. I took a step back in advance and slightly nudged the ball to my left upon arrival. The moment the ball struck the center of my bat, I knew it couldn¡¯t be stopped. The ball won the race against all fielders and raced away for a four. Our score shot up as did my confidence.


    For the moment, I forget everything about Anjali and her boyfriend. All my focus was on playing the game of cricket.


    The next ball came. The ball trajectory suggested it would be a bouncer coming right for my face. I was scared and angry at the same time. Thankfully, we were playing with a rubber ball so even if it hit my head it wouldn¡¯t hurt much. Knowing the ball trajectory, I took a step back again and safely played it to the off-side for a single.


    I played for the next six over and in the twenty-five balls I faced I scored forty runs with two sixes. The same classmates who didn¡¯t even talk to me were left amazed and slightly frightened. It felt good. Finally, I had something to be happy. In the end, we scored eighty-five.


    Then it was our turn to field and I had all the time to play with the skill.


    I picked Kartik on the left to experiment and a few numbers popped up in my vision. They told me he was five feet and seven inches tall. He weighed just over 55 kg and was healthy. A battery floated on top of his head indicating that he had half his energy remaining. The vision also marked his chest, waist, and bust sizes, which gave me a jolt of adrenaline.


    My eyes shot straight in the girl¡¯s direction. Knowing I could know their secrets raised my heartbeat a little. But they were too far away for me to see anything clearly. Defeated, I turned back to Kartik.


    The information given by Data Vision also included the price tag of his clothes It also included the cost price. Because we were in school uniforms almost everyone wore the same priced shirts and pants, only their cost price was too damn low. Every shirt with a retail price of 680 had a cost price of 120 rupees. There was more than five times price difference! No wonder they say all the money is in business. I could imagine how much our school earned from selling the clothes. They were bloodsuckers!


    The data vision also gave me the price of his haircut, his eye vision, and his shin shade. It also gave me the price of priced watch that he so dearly loved. It turned out to be a fake. It was so damn cheap even his haircut cost more. It made me laugh a little. Finally, I had something I could use against him during a confrontation.


    I turned away from him and finally looked at the data that I was most interested in seeing.


    I checked myself and got a full chart of things. The power told me that I had about seven thousand calories stored in my body, one thousand six hundred of which were in the form of glycogen and the rest was fat. My ATP was constantly depleting and replenishing. My blood sugar level was normal, as was my blood pressure, but my heart rate was a little higher at 76 bpm.


    In terms of height-to-weight ratio, I was slightly overweight though considered healthy. I tried to see if I could get a blood test with the skill, but it was not possible. It was probably a skill-level issue. My libido was as low as my mood. It displayed a sad face beside my battery indicator. Most surprisingly, my battery had almost 4103Kj of energy stored and it was increasing at 480kj/hr. Since 4.8 kJ was equal to 1 calorie that mean I could absorb a hundred calories from sunlight every hour. It was not a bad result though slightly underwhelming. It also meant that as long as there was sunlight I could survive without eating. However, I would still need to take some supplements because our bodies also need various minerals, fats proteins, and salts to work properly. Perhaps, one day I would be able to absorb all those from the earth and would really become independent.


    Data Vision also told me that the battery could only store 48000 kJ or 10000 calories at level one. I also realized that the data vision was consuming 1 KJ of energy every second to stay active, or 750 cal per hour, which was very reasonable. A person consumes the same amount of calories after an hour of intense workout.


    This kind of data was readily available without any need to calculate it.


    I could even choose two objects and see the probability of them colliding. That was the biggest find of it all. I selected one girl and another boy and wanted to find the probability of them getting together and it came out to be just over 3%. There were just not that many similarities between them. Since I was doing this, I had to check the probability between Sonam and I. It was 80%. That surprised me. Her happiness index was a tad over 4 out of 10, which was lower than average. She was sad, even though she smiled and laughed with her friends. Then I had the urge to check the probability of Kusum and Kartik getting together and it came out a very healthy 69%. It was a funny number, to be honest.


    The energy consumption shot through the roof every time I calculated a probability. Each of the calculations consumed 100 KJ of energy from the battery. I also saw my mental freshness dip with each use which gave me quite a scare. Thankfully, it was recovering at a slow rate. I was not damaging my brain. That was good news. However, I decided to keep this power in check. Ablest I melted my brain trying to calculate something too powerful like the probability of a lottery number. I imagined my brain melting inside my skull before I could even calculate the first digit. It sent goosebumps up my arm.


    ¡°Catch it!¡± The call came and I saw the ball flying toward me. I saw the ball¡¯s flight path. It was a bit far, but I knew I could get there and I did. I caught the ball diving forward and we won.


    I saw Sonam waiting for me with Kusum on our way back. I knew because the rest of the girls had already returned. Remembering the data I had calculated, I pulled Kartik along with me. Who knew? Maybe one day their compatibility could turn from 69% to 96%.


    ¡°That was a great game,¡± Sonam said. ¡°Do you play regularly?¡± She couldn¡¯t hold her smile. It was overflowing.


    ¡°No, not really. It was just the atmosphere. Friendly matches are always easier to play.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know, but she was holding her breaths when you were playing,¡± Kusum interjected from the side.


    Sonam tried to shut her up, but Kusum was more agile and far wittier.


    ¡°I saw her clenching fists,¡± Kusum added. ¡°She almost jumped when you hit the first six,¡±


    ¡°Kusum, shut up or I¡¯ll show you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already seen everything that¡¯s going on in your heart. What else do you want to show me?¡± Kusum said dodging a left and right combo from Sonam.


    I was afraid something would happen if Sonam caught her, but Kusum pleaded guilty when Sonam¡¯s smile faded and Sonam forgave her after twisting her waist a little.


    I didn¡¯t need data vision to see where her happiness stood. It was definitely above average. But I activated it anyway.


    Two things stood out to me right away.


    Firstly, our compatibility had risen from 80% to 90%. She must have really liked me playing out there. Secondly, I would have never guessed it from her loose school uniform. She was actually a size 22D.

 Ch-19: Oct-9

    My mother¡¯s data suggested she was moody. Her heart was beating at an above-normal pace and her blood pressure was elevated. Which told me I shouldn¡¯t make her cranky today or she might blow up at me. Some other power might have told me the crux of the problem; data vision though could only give me a limited diagnosis.


    ¡°Ma, where are your bp pills?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Your face looks flushed,¡± I pointed out. ¡°I think your BP is elevated. You should take a pill, for safety.¡±


    My mother touched her face and said, ¡°I am feeling slightly vented¡­¡± She paused before giving directions. ¡°They are in the blue box on the rack. Do you know my pills?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I told her and went to my parent¡¯s room where I got the pills from the blue box of Vadilad butterscotch ice cream. My mother recycled boxes and bottles. That was just who she was. She made containers out of used boxes and cut the bottles into halves to turn them into flowerpots.


    I gave her the pill and then brought her a glass of water, which I put back in the kitchen sink water.


    ¡°What¡¯s for lunch today?¡± I asked while cleaning up after Abhey¡¯s. I wondered if there was a way to make Abhey clean after himself without using a superpower. I kept wondering but nothing turned up.


    ¡°Potatoes and peas fry,¡±


    ¡°With rice?¡± I asked back with some expectations.


    My mother hummed in agreement and I felt good, warm, fantastic.


    One could never go wrong with that combination.


    I threw our school clothes in the dirty clothes basket and ate lunch before going to my room. I was in a bit of a hurry. Although I got the power at school in the seventh period, there was not enough time for me to test it out at school. I needed to test the energy consumption of my other powers especially super brain and Photographic memory.


    The results were shocking. Super brain that passively increased my brain capacity or intelligence was alone burning 100 calories a day at level one. Moreover, my slight transfiguration with disguise was achieved by consuming 120 calories. No wonder I was dying of hunger in the evening when I tested disguise.


    In the heat of the moment, I tried to elongate my pinky finger just a tad and the calorie consumed shot through the roof. I only felt a burn on my pinky and fifty calories disappeared from my body. I was so frightened I didn¡¯t dare do it again.


    The limiter was also a one-time hundred-calorie payout. Thankfully, it didn¡¯t need to consume any more energy every time I turned the limiter on or off. I wouldn¡¯t have been able to afford photographic memory then.


    No wonder they say, the little you know the better. This knowledge was horrifying.


    Even Furnace consumed energy to work. It took away a steep 10% of the calories produced during digestion. Now my gut consumed 20 cal from every 100 calories produced to digest food. Yes, it was faster, but at an alarming cost. What would I do if my body could one day instantly digest everything, but it did that by consuming 90% of the calories produced during digestion? Would that make sense?


    I wondered if I should limit my furnace too. Then I decided to take the decision after the coming level up, to see how that improves the digestion process. I remembered. I was only one skill away from reaching my next milestone and being rewarded an opportunity to level up all my skills once. Then I would have a choice.


    According to data vision, Enhanced Endurance actually doubled my body¡¯s ability to store glycogen. However, my body¡¯s health was suffering from it. I also put improving my overall health on the agenda. Tackle this issue before it becomes a problem. I was a firm believer in prevention over cure.


    Back in my room, I finally had time to open my books and see how much energy my photographic memory consumed. A test at rest showed me that the power consumed one Kilo-joule of energy every second even if I kept my eyes closed and was not memorizing any data. Similar to data vision and other level-one powers. Then I opened my eyes and the energy consumption jumped to ten KJ per second. Memorizing a page of worth of data increased the energy consumption to 45 KJ. I locked the skill behind tight security again. What an absolute monster. Thankfully, the energy it consumed came from battery. If it took the energy from my body¡­ what would happen to me?


    I looked at my belly fat and added the power to turn fat into energy to the ever-growing list of superpowers.


    Data vision really gave me the run for my money. I was not done with it yet. I needed to test it more. I had been speaking numbers for 12 hours straight. I was tired, really tired, but it was my first real superpower. I wanted to explore the world with it and play until my heart was content.


    I left home and went out on the highway. There was a long queue of hawkers selling fruits on the road. I asked one how he sold the bananas and he gave me the prize of fifty rupees for one dozen. I checked his stand with the data vision and learned that the man was earning twenty rupees over every dozen bananas sold. He had sold two thousand rupees worth of goods in the day and his profit was 800, which considering he was just selling some fruits on a small cart was an insane amount. The man was earning the same amount as most fresh graduates.


    I checked the probability of reducing the price by 25% and data vision showed me that there was only a 15% probability that he¡¯d agree. I guess being at the prime location made him less vulnerable to haggling.


    He sold his goods near the bus stop with a hospital next to him. Both the hospital visitor and bus passengers probably bought fruits from him. I checked the data of the other sellers in some distance and their data was bleak in comparison. The best numbers had only made a third of his sales. One of them was not even making minimum wage.


    The difference in earnings opened my eyes. It taught me that location was as important in business as the goods themselves. Perhaps, even more.


    I moved on. Walking through the crowd on the roadside, data vision showed me there were thirty-four people on the road with me. A man walked past me talking on the phone and the superpower not only listed me the phone''s cost price, the retail price, and the date of purchase but also specified its phone number.


    I could get any girl''s phone number. That was the first thing I imagined after realizing that it was possible. Then I realized that this was the ultimate pickup trick. The girls would be running after me to know my method! It would be so cool. I decided to try this trick the next time I went to the mall with Kartik.


    Hell! I could try it now. I looked around in anxiousness but didn¡¯t see any girls around. Tough luck. I didn¡¯t notice it then, I was so engrossed and excited about the superpower that I had forgotten all about Anjali and what happened in the morning. It was a good thing, a much-needed distraction.


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    I tried a couple of other things with data vision before I asked it to show me how much money everyone had. I was thinking in terms of net worth, but Data Vision could only show me the amount of money everyone carried.


    Everyone mostly carried a few hundred rupees on them. There were some people, young men, possibly college students, who looked like they came from good families, but carried not a single rupee on them. On the other hand, same-aged girls carried more money than anyone could ever need in a single day. I also realized that in a family, the men carried the most money while only a few women had any money on them and not more than a few tens of rupees. I couldn¡¯t determine whether it was a trust issue or a glimpse of something deeply rooted in our society. None of the children that passed by carried a single dime, which I expected. While I was surprised to see a beggar carrying, close to two thousand on him. That was the most money I had seen someone carrying until I saw a man with a six-digit number hanging above his head.


    The man was an overweight uncle with a big potbelly, in a white shirt with green stripes and coffee brown pants. He looked stressed, which his baldhead agreed with. Data vision showed the same. His happiness index was at two and his stress levels were through the roof. His heart rate was elevated, though slightly and his BP was tanking for some reason.


    He was in a hurry. Walking at a brisk pace of 5.36 km/hr. He was sweating and tightly held a black handbag like his life depended on it. He was coming from the direction of the ATM machine. Seeing as he was walking toward me, he was possibly going to the hospital to pay the bill.


    Then suddenly the man collided with someone and they both fell to the ground. I was too far away to see what happened next, but I was stunned to see that the man in a white striped shirt now carried zero rupees on him while the other guy in a black sweater was walking away with a bill of 1.5 lakhs hanging above his head. The uncle didn¡¯t even notice it. He was robbed so plainly and easily that it made my mind boggle.


    The thief walked away as if nothing happened. He didn¡¯t speed up or behave suspiciously. I figured out the reason when he transferred the money to another person, a younger man in his early twenties who was coincidently walking toward me. This was a gang at work. The young man was also probably just a mule, moving the money. It scared me to know that they operated so close to my home.


    I decided to help the man get his money back. Only I could. No one besides me knew who carried the money. There were no police officers around. They wouldn¡¯t have been any help anyway. The police I knew from movies and heard in general were only good at intimidating others and taking bribes.


    I stopped the uncle who was robbed. He looked at me warily and tightly clenched his handbag.


    ¡°Uncle, don¡¯t panic. But you have been robbed.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± The man hurriedly checked the black bag in his hand and his eyes opened wide in panic when he found it empty.


    ¡°Where¡¯s my money?¡± He looked around in panic before grabbing my collar in anger. ¡°YOU!¡±


    ¡°Not me,¡± I told him grabbing his hand. He was starting to twist my collar, choking me.


    ¡°I know who stole your money and who¡¯s carrying it right now. I will help you catch that man. But you have to behave yourself. If you act like this, you¡¯ll make him suspicious. Then he¡¯ll run away. Is that what you want?¡±


    ¡°Ho, ho,¡± He started hyperventilating. His eyes became wet. ¡°That money is my son¡¯s medical fees. I can¡¯t lose it. I can¡¯t,¡± he said with a trembling voice.


    ¡°I understand, sir,¡± I said politely, trying to calm him down. ¡°Like I said, I know who has your money and he¡¯s coming right toward us.¡±


    ¡°What? who?¡±


    I grabbed his arm before he could turn back and warn the thief.


    ¡°They know who you are. Don¡¯t make them suspicious. I¡¯ll help you. I¡¯ll entangle the guy and buy you time. You support me. Is that alright with you?¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± The man looked around vigilantly as if he was surrounded by thieves.


    I didn¡¯t have time to calm him down. ¡°Here he comes,¡± I said and walked away from him.


    I don¡¯t know why I did it. Why I took action. Something told me if didn¡¯t act this time, then I never would. I could have informed the man and left, but I couldn¡¯t leave him after knowing that the money was for his son¡¯s operation. Perhaps it was the result of everything that had happened in the past couple of days. Perhaps, it was a newly sprung sense of justice that enticed me to act. Perhaps, I was delusional.


    Whatever the case, before long, I was walking toward the tall and lanky guy in the black sweater. I acted confident but I was panicking inside. I was but an eighteen year old after all. When was the last time I had been in such an exciting tussle? I wished I had some kind of physical superpower that could help me overpower the thief if it came to that. I didn¡¯t. There was no medicine for regret. I could only make do with what I had.


    My heart was in my throat.


    What was the plan? I decided to go for the man¡¯s legs and get him on the ground. I was hoping the uncle would uncle back me up on time. He was the one with everything to lose after all. Otherwise¡­ nothing really. I would release the thief and we would go our separate ways.


    They are a gang of thugs, I told myself. This was the best I could do.


    However, things went wrong from the beginning. I was probably staring too much or my thoughts were too transparent because the guy became vigilant of me. He slowed down and kept his guard up making it difficult for me to act.


    Then the uncle screamed.


    ¡°You thief!¡±


    The thief looked between the two of us, took a few steps back, and darted through the crowd in the opposite direction.


    ¡°Somebody stop him!¡± I yelled, but the thief was swift on his feet. I couldn¡¯t understand where he found the strength from his lanky frame but he plowed through the crowd like a dump truck crashing through a field of corn. No wonder he was the mule, the legs of the operation.


    People opened a path to him as if in cahoots. No one stopped him.


    I decided to hell with it and ran after him. I wouldn¡¯t say the morning proceedings weren¡¯t on my mind. I had always been a coward, always kept my head down and eyes on the ground whenever someone confronted me. I had never pushed back. Perhaps, some other day I would have acted sanely, but I was severely distraught that day. I hadn¡¯t slept last night and had been awake for over thirty hours, was low on energy, and was mentally and emotionally disturbed.


    No wonder I charged after the man in the black sweater.


    Turned out the thief wasn¡¯t as fast as I had imagined. It was probably my enhanced endurance at work. I did have twice the amount of stamina of a normal person after all. I jumped at the man, wrapped my arms around his waist, and pulled him to the ground. There was so much adrenaline pumping in my body that I didn¡¯t even feel it when we hit the ground. All I knew was to keep hold of the guy until help arrived, which arrived very shortly. Or did it take a long? I was singularly devoted to keeping the thief pinned on the ground and had no idea what was happening around me.


    It was only when someone shook my shoulder did I realize that help had arrived. I looked around and found a crowd gathered around us. There were men holding the thief in check and could finally let him go. I went to stand up but someone told me to be steady and stay on the ground and don¡¯t move. Why did I need to be steady? I couldn¡¯t understand. I found some people looking at me in concern. The voices were still a muffled noise in my ears. I couldn¡¯t hear what they were saying. There were some phones out capturing the whole incident. I was like great: now I was going to be famous. I wished I had disguised myself.


    Slowly my breaths calmed. Just when I thought of getting up, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my gut. I looked and saw a knife sticking out of my abdomen. No wonder the people were so concerned about my well-being.


    ¡°What?¡± My hand subconsciously went to grab the knife. Thankfully, someone grabbed my hand and stopped me or I could have bled out on the road and¡­


    ¡°Let me go.¡± I fought him but he didn¡¯t. I could feel my whole body turning cold. Was this the end? Was I dying? My thoughts were so rational and haunting. My only reprise was that I didn¡¯t see much blood seeping from the wound. I thought I would make it probably.


    ¡°Help,¡± I somehow said before my consciousness started fading. It was probably the shock of the injury plus the tiredness working in tandem. So much for standing up for myself. It was the last thought I had before my vision slipped into darkness.

 Ch-20: Oct-10

    I woke up in a daze in an unfamiliar bright white room. I noticed the invasively pungent smell of bleach in the air, which vaguely reminded me of hospitals.


    Then suddenly I remembered the knife sticking out of my gut and jerked back in response, slamming my back on the bedpost. My hand slapped the place where the knife was supposed to be and my eyes darted right behind it to prove the validity of my thought. Fear made my heart lurch. Something beeped aggressively behind me. I didn¡¯t find any knives sticking out of my abdomen, inflating my mood slightly. My tension was released, and the beeping monster behind me slowly went back to sleep, snoring consistently like before.


    I looked back in confusion and saw a very familiar heart rate monitor showing a very healthy pulse and heart rate behind me.


    ¡°I¡¯m in a hospital?¡± I mumbled in confusion. Then I saw the fluid lines connected to my left arm and figured that it might be true. There was a glucose bottle hanging from the stand next to my bed. Next to a half-empty blood bag hung with the used line coiled around it. I had never seen a real blood bag before. It made me stare. I wasn¡¯t curious, simply¡­ astonished.


    It took me a good while to get over it and look around.


    I was alone in the most likely private room.


    I didn¡¯t act dizzy as most people do in movies, trying to snatch my line and walking away dragging the medical stand behind them. Perhaps, it was my enhanced intelligence. I knew the cause and effect of my situation and felt lucky to be alive. The knife could have easily ended up in my heart.


    I wondered what they did with the knife. I couldn¡¯t help but gently rub my hand over the supposed wound and found the area plain without any protrusions. I most definitely had an operation. It gave me Goosebumps just imagining the situation. I lying there on the road, bleeding out of my gut, with the crowd gathered around.


    I sat up trying to see what they had done to me, but it was impossible to remove my medical garb or look under it without standing up. I wasn¡¯t that needy. I just sighed, couldn¡¯t even curse myself for being stupid.


    Did I have to go after the thief? Couldn¡¯t I have checked with Data Vision if the thief was carrying a weapon on him? It could have also checked the probability of me catching the thief with and without injury. I could have done many things if the thief wasn¡¯t on the run and I wasn¡¯t strapped for time.


    Well, no point crying over spilled milk. I turned on Data Vision and looked at my charts.


    While I was only 85% healthy, I was not in any danger and successfully recovering. Three cheers to me. I also noticed that my glycogen levels were higher than the last time I had checked.


    I remembered the glucose I.V. drip and a blub lit up in my mind. Perhaps, there was a better source of glucose present other than potatoes and chapatti¡¯s after all. Then I saw the 10% glucose written in black and bold on the transparent bag, causing my hope to develop a clot, leading to amputation. So long my idea. It was nice meeting you.


    I saw my phone lying on the bedside table and picked it up. It still had power, which was always nice. The first surprise was the date and time. It was noon on October 10. I had slept right through the night and morning. Which I took for granted considering I had been awake for over 30 hours. It made sense for my brain to shut off to heal for a night and morning. I was definitely on pain medication too since I couldn¡¯t feel anything different from my abdomen.


    Then I saw the tens of missed calls from my parents, Abhey and Kartik and my heart fell. There were also a few messages. All the missed calls were registered between 4:30 to 7:00 pm yesterday. Then a call from my mother was received at 7:05 pm. It was a received call that was a minute and a half long. I guessed that was when someone from the hospital heard or saw the phone screen light up and told my parents about my situation. My phone was on silent. So it made sense that it took so long for someone to pick up the phone. Thankfully, my parents didn¡¯t have to wait all day and night for someone to crack through the security.


    There were a few messages from Kartik and Abhey too, both asking me where I was and what I was doing.


    It was 11:00 am now. I was just checking through the phone when the door opened and scared the shit out of me. I hurriedly hid the phone as if afraid someone would catch me watching porn. I choked when I saw my mother standing at the door stunned. She carried a heavy black plastic bag in one hand and her phone in the other. We started at each other and then my eyes started burning and growing blurry.


    ¡°Ma,¡± I spoke tremblingly.


    My mother rushed into the room, hugged me, and started crying. Her grip was so tight yet so secure. I felt so safe in her arms.


    ¡°Oh, my child,¡± She said through the sobbing.


    I grabbed her arms and dug my face into her shoulder like a kid lost in the crowd who had finally found his mother.


    We hugged for a while before she pulled back. She didn¡¯t sit back but grabbed my face in her big fat hands and fired a barrage of questions in a hurry and worry.


    ¡°How are you? Are you all right? Does it hurt?¡±


    Her eyes were red. Her dark circles were more prominent and more pronounced. She was trembling, her voice cracking. I couldn¡¯t see her like that.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, ma,¡± I said cheerfully hoping it did something. ¡°It hurts though,¡±


    ¡°What? Where? Do you want me to call a doctor?¡±


    ¡°My face, ma-- my face hurts. Your hands are too strong. They are like pliers.¡±


    ¡°Stupid, idiot, rascal. You have the heart to make a joke!¡± She said slapping me on the shoulder. I say slapping, but she barely touched me. Her hands were as light as a feather duster.


    She made sure I was fine, then left the room to call a doctor.


    A few minutes later, she returned with a nurse dressed in a white shirt and pants. She was tall, taller than most girls, and thin as a bean spoke. Her cheeks were red like someone had pinched them and had her hair done in a bun behind her head. She was so pretty I couldn¡¯t help staring.


    The nurse frowned in return. I thought she hated me for staring, but I was wrong.


    ¡°Who told you to sit up? You should lie down or you risk pulling the stitches. Please lie down.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m feeling fine,¡± I cringed at the squeaky voice that came out of my throat. There went my first impression down the drain.


    ¡°Aunty, you tell him. I¡¯ll call the doctor,¡± The nurse whose nametag read Naina complained to my mother and then left the room as briskly as she had appeared.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.¡°I¡¯m fine ma,¡± I complained to her too which fell on deaf ears.


    I saw the redness receding from her eye and her face hardening up and knew she wouldn¡¯t listen to me.


    ¡°All right, all right, don¡¯t get angry. I¡¯m lying down. Don¡¯t yell at me or I¡¯ll complain to the doctor that you are disturbing the patient.¡± Perhaps I spoke too soon because her worry receded and irritation took its place again.


    ¡°You call the doctor and I¡¯ll tell him to put the knife back in your gut.¡± She snapped at me.


    ¡°I¡¯m a hero ma.¡± I joked. ¡°They are gonna give me an award--¡±


    She grimaced. ¡°What kind of a hero gets stabbed while trying to catch a small-time thief? Besides who gave you the confidence to run after a thief? Did your mind go grazing? Didn¡¯t you think he might have a weapon? It¡¯s the phones; they are the problem. If I had stopped you from watching all those horrible movies then we wouldn¡¯t be here. Tell me where you hid it?¡±


    I pushed the phone under my back to hide it from her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t blame the phone Ma. It¡¯s your son who¡¯s stupid.¡±


    My mother might have had a few more words to say if the door hadn¡¯t opened and a doctor hadn¡¯t followed the nurse inside the room.


    ¡°You look lively enough.¡± The doctor jested. He was a man in his forties. Had an approachable face and carried a smile that made me comfortable. Clean shaved, dark pants, and a pink shirt under the doctor''s white coat. He carried a stethoscope around his neck and a few other tools in his bulging pockets. He looked trustworthy. My ma thought so too because she stopped harassing me and stood silently aside as soon as the doctor approached the bedside.


    ¡°How are you feeling? Do you feel any stiffness in your abdomen?¡± He said looking through my charts before moving on to check my abdomen.


    My ma and the nurse listened quietly from the side.


    ¡°I¡¯m feeling fine. No stiffness or such but why I¡¯m not feeling my pain?¡± I asked while he was probing my stomach.


    ¡°Because of the painkillers,¡± The doctor said moving on from my stomach to checking my eyes.


    ¡°What are you looking for?¡±


    ¡°Seeing if they are yellow-- open your mouth,¡± The doctor asked me.


    I followed and he looked inside my mouth with a torch. I don¡¯t know what he was looking for but he seemed optimistic enough, which was a good sign. I knew I was fine. I was at 85% health. I complied with the doctor to assure my mother. She was anxious. I didn¡¯t know what kinda night she¡¯d passed. I felt sorry for her, for putting her and my family through this ordeal. I wished I hadn¡¯t done something so stupid.


    ¡°There is no need to be anxiousness.¡± The doctor told us. ¡°Everything looks normal. We¡¯ll do some more tests tonight to see if there are any changes to his condition--¡±


    ¡°Then can I leave?¡±I asked, earning a glare from my mother.


    The doctor gave a chuckle. ¡°You don¡¯t like your room?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant--¡±


    He interrupted. ¡°If everything¡¯s right, we can discharge you in the morning. You are a very lucky man. The knife almost penetrated your peritoneal cavity. A little deeper and your intestines would have been damaged then it would have been a major operation. I know it¡¯s a commendable thing to stand up for someone, but you should take care of yourself. Don¡¯t take on troubles that are bigger than you.¡± Then he nodded to my mother.


    ¡°Any questions?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°Can I have something to eat? I¡¯m hungry.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± The doctor smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll send someone to get something for you. I should remind you, it¡¯s best if you don¡¯t eat any processed foods while you are healing. Don¡¯t waste your body¡¯s energy trying to digest stuff like meat which it can use to heal the wound. All right, that¡¯s it for now. You can tell the nurse if you have any problems. I¡¯ll come around in the evening to see how you are doing.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, doctor,¡± My mother said and I followed.


    My mother took a seat on the chair by the bedside after the doctor left. I could tell that she had something on her mind. I didn¡¯t have to wait long before she started speaking.


    ¡°You scared us, you know. I knew something happened to you when you didn¡¯t pick up the phone. We looked everywhere for you. Your brother went to the sports college to see if you were there. Your dad checked the market and called your friends. They were still when my call connected and a nurse answered--¡± She wiped her eyes with her dupatta and told me in a pleading voice, ¡°Promise me you won¡¯t don¡¯t do it again. You don¡¯t need to prove anything.¡±


    I had never seen her so vulnerable before. My eyes watered seeing her like this. ¡°I promise,¡± I said, but I didn¡¯t know that it wouldn¡¯t be long before I would break this promise.


    Eventually, a hospital staff member brought me a tray of hospital food. It was as bad as expected. There was white rice with a watery soup for dal, a big cup of porridge, a boiled carrot, some peas, and curd. Add some mashed potatoes to the mix and we could have called it prison food or English lunch. I force-fed myself while my mother had stuffed naan and chickpeas that my dad brought on his way to the hospital.


    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Dad asked me.


    ¡°Like I¡¯m in hell,¡± I said playing with my porridge which was as bland as it comes. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can take another day of this. Can I go home now?¡±


    ¡°What did the doctor say?¡± Dad asked me. I didn¡¯t answer. I knew how he¡¯d respond.


    However, there was a question on my mind that I wanted answered. ¡°How much did it cost?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh, leave it.¡± He looked away. ¡°You are fine that¡¯s all that matters.¡±


    ¡°That bad, huh,¡± I dropped my head in painful understanding.


    My dad changed the topic. ¡°Are you regretting it now?¡±


    ¡°Somewhat?¡± I said unable to raise my head. I felt bad and didn¡¯t want my dad to see it. ¡°I didn¡¯t know he would have a knife. If I knew¡­¡±


    ¡°Then what? You would have let the thief run away?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said after raising my head and saw a glint of disappointment flash through my father¡¯s eyes. I didn¡¯t understand where the anger came from, but I asked, ¡°Why-- do you think I should have let him go even though I knew the thief was running away with a boy''s medical fees?¡±


    ¡°I just hope you can think about yourself and us next time. Your actions don¡¯t just affect you, son.¡± He said. ¡°They affect everyone around you equally.¡±


    I was a bit disappointed to hear such pessimistic words from my father. At least now I knew where my paranoid nature came from. Like father like son, they say. He was right about one thing. Our actions do affect everyone around us equally whether good or bad.


    ¡°By the way, where is the doctor¡¯s room? I need to talk to him about something.¡± Dad asked my mother.


    ¡°I¡¯ll show you,¡± My mother got up and they left the room together.


    I didn¡¯t pay attention to them not knowing my father¡¯s conversation with the doctor would cause a heap of problems for me and my family in the future. We could have avoided everything If my father hadn¡¯t talked to the doctor.


    Fate works in mysterious ways. It moves forward unabated and undisturbed, acting, as it should, as written in time and space.


    All I knew was that I finally had the room to myself again.


    I couldn¡¯t help wondering where I should go from here. I was talking about the system and the superpowers, of course. I hadn¡¯t asked for my wish today.


    My plan was to streamline my energy needs. For energy intake, I had photosynthesis and food. They were producing close to 5000 calories every day. Most of which was getting stored in my body as fat. I slapped my abdomen lightly and it jigged in response, agreeing with me.


    My belly was ballooning, my arms were sagging and my chest was growing tender. It was not a good situation health-wise. My body and my mind were not synchronized with each other.


    I wanted to rectify this issue. Not just for body aesthetics but also for the sake of my energy needs. I hadn¡¯t been able to make a major breakthrough in studying because I simply didn¡¯t have enough energy to feed my hungry powers. If I could slowly, turn all the fat stored in my body into usable energy then I would be solving two problems with one superpower. That was the plan.


    Then this happened. And I was left wondering what to do. In the end, I decided to get regeneration power so I could heal faster. I could always disguise the wound later to make it look like it was healing at a normal rate. I didn¡¯t want any more attention. One miracle was normal. Two miracles lead to a medical thesis. I didn¡¯t want the word ¡®specimen¡¯ added behind my name.


    Altogether, it was a foolproof plan.

 Ch-21: Oct-10-Heal

    ¡°Sir, about the thing we talked about¡­¡± Sahil¡¯s father asked his son''s doctor. He sat on the chair with his back bent forward, holding on to the armrest like his life depended on it. His wife sat on the chair next to him. She was equally worried about the doctor¡¯s report.


    ¡°Yes,¡± The doctor pulled up the patient''s file and had a look at the tests. For a second there was only the sound of paper flipping in the small room before the doctor looked at the couple and announced, ¡°It¡¯s good. You don¡¯t have to worry. All the tests came out negative. We didn¡¯t find any illegal substances in your son¡¯s bloodstream or urine. Mr. Ravinder, your son isn¡¯t taking any drugs as far as we are concerned.¡±


    The couple looked at each other and sighed in relief.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it true that the drugs remain in the body for only so long,¡± Mr. Ravinder asked.


    ¡°Yes, they do.¡± The doctor agreed, closed the file, and put it back in the pile. ¡°But drugs can still be detected in the urine for up to four days. So we can clear the suspicion that your son acted under any kind of influence. He decided to run after the thief on his own.¡±


    ¡°What about his other abnormal behaviors?¡± The middle-aged woman asked. She wasn¡¯t convinced by the doctor''s opinion. She believed there was something wrong with her son. ¡°His appetite has increased several times than before and he¡¯s also angry all the time. He lashed at me for not feeding him enough a couple of days ago. He never did that before. And the mumbling? He was mumbling on the day of the incident. His brother told us he kept mumbling even on the school bus! His school friend told us that he was mumbling all day in the class too. That''s not right, is it?¡±


    ¡°Anger and appetite can easily be associated with puberty.¡± The doctor answered politely. ¡°Even mumbling could be something like thinking out loud. I know you as parents want the best for your child, but we can¡¯t be impatient in these situations. Lest we take the wrong step forward and waste time with the wrong procedure.¡±


    ¡°There must be something we can do¡­¡± The husband asked politely.


    The doctor looked at the two parents and sighed. ¡°I believe your son is a healthy young boy. However, if you are still concerned about his well-being I think you should consult a psychologist.¡± The doctor then rummaged through his drawer before pulling a card out of it and presenting it to the old couple. ¡°Dr. Vaishali is an excellent psychologist in our area. She practices closeby. Since we can conclude that there is nothing medically wrong with your son, maybe she can help answer your questions and offer insight into your son''s mind.¡±


    The two parents looked at each other. They were skeptical. As far as they knew only mental patients needed a psychologist''s help. The couple pondered silently for a moment before reaching an agreement. The husband took a deep breath, took the card from the doctor, and thanked him for his help.


    ****


    [The Daily superpower system has heard your wish!]


    [Heal is the power that allows you to improve the health of any biological organism and restore its bodily function to the optimal condition.]


    [Task level: E]


    [Drink 100 ml of your blood.]


    [Would you like to accept the task to acquire the ability? Yes/No]


    The task gave me quite a scare. ¡°Where am I gonna find blood? Wait! It said your blood--¡±


    A chill crept up my sleeve. I imagined tightening a tourniquet on my arm and taking a blade to my wrist. The blade slashed apart my skin. Then there was blood everywhere. It gave me the shivers.


    The tasks so far had been quite accommodating. Yes, they had some effects on my life, but they weren¡¯t difficult to perform. Where did this one pop out from? Did the system change my invigilators and the new one wanted to see me shed some blood?


    Could I mutilate myself to get a superpower? Many people would sacrifice an arm and a leg, or even more for such an opportunity. Even I would.


    But I had a choice. I didn¡¯t need the power to heal wounds as urgently as that. To¡ª


    My train of thought stagnated as I remembered that I was in a hospital and there was a blood bag hanging right above my head.


    However, it was someone else¡¯s blood. ¡°Which is also flowing through my veins,¡± That didn¡¯t mean that it was mine. ¡°But it could be,¡±


    I put my feet on the ground and stood up slowly. The nurse was right to ask me to lie down. I felt a pinch in my abdomen upon standing. It was more annoying than painful, but it gave me quite a scare. I was only unwinding the cord around the blood bag and even that took its toll on my body. That hardened my resolve. I didn¡¯t want to deal with this annoyance for a second longer. At this point, I also noticed that there was only 100 ml of blood left in the bottle. This was not a coincidence.


    No wonder it was only an E-level task. It would have been a D-level task if there was no blood bag and I had to get the blood from my body. I could have died too.


    It would have been a different story if I had Wolverine¡¯s regenerative factor. Then it would have been a P-level task, where p stood for pathetic.


    I unwound the cord and pull the tip out of the blood bag. The task was to drink the blood, not to inject it into my vein. As if that wasn¡¯t disgusting enough. Was there any difference between the two? Shaking my head, I sat down on the bed with the blood bag in my hand and unease building in my heart. I felt like I was going out of my mind. It was real blood, thick and bright red. I gulped the unease and tremblingly sucked at the end of the blood bag.


    My eyes remained focused on the blood strolling inside the bag before it fell on my tongue and my mind went blank. Everyone has tasted some blood in their life when they cut the inside of their mouth or when their tooth breaks. Or when they cut their finger and their friends or parents tell them to suck on the cut.


    This blood, however, tasted a little off. It was cold, somewhat salty, and filled my nose with a pungent odor. I pulled my head back in disgust. So horrible was the taste! I couldn¡¯t engulf. The blood was too thick and slimy. My envy for Vampires ended right then. I couldn¡¯t imagine how they could drink blood in relish, almost to the point of having orgasms. There was also that the vampires weren¡¯t real and were just a figment of someone''s imagination. Someone who knew that stale blood tasted horrible.


    The truth was that I couldn¡¯t drink the blood anymore.


    I looked around for help and found a water bottle standing tall on the table. My savior. The bottle was half-full. I didn¡¯t know who had drank the rest of it but that didn¡¯t stop me from standing up and grabbing it off the table. The idea was simple. The blood wouldn¡¯t taste so horrible after diluting it with water, right?


    I shoved the broken end of the bag into the bottle''s mouth and squeezed all the blood into the water bottle. The thick and heavy blood broke through the water tension, penetrating deep into the water body before rapidly spreading and mixing with the water. Before long, the blood bag was squashed empty and the water bottle contained stark red liquid with the consistency of orange juice.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I stared at the water bottle for a moment before hurriedly shoving the sharp end of the cord back into the empty blood bag and hanging it back from the stand. That maneuver took some breath out of my chest and made my heart race. Ignoring the physical discomfort and sitting back on the bed, I hurriedly started shaking the water bottle to thoroughly mix the two liquids. Then after a moment of hesitation, opened the cap and gulped down my new iron and egg-flavored protein drink in a single breath. No more dilly-dallying.


    The mixture tasted milder and tolerable. It no longer stuck to my throat and made me gloomy. I still felt like puking I should mention, but that didn¡¯t stop me from finishing it down to the last drop before and without anyone barging in on me.


    I spoke too soon. I was taking the last few gulps when the door opened and my parents came back.


    ¡°The doctor told you to lie down. Why are you sitting up again?¡± My mother cursed from the door.


    Her voice was more anxious than angry. I almost pissed in my gown anyways, thinking I was dead. A shiver almost made me spurt out the red bloody water at them. I held it down, and knowing there would be no explaining if they found out what I was doing, hurriedly drank down the mouthful. However, I was still too careless.


    ¡°What are you drinking?¡± My father asked curiously. He was staring.


    ¡°Water,¡± I said or implied, but I finished the contents of the bottle.


    ¡°Let me throw it for you,¡± Father said walking over, not giving me a choice. He grabbed or snatched the water bottle out of my hand and started walking out of the room.


    My mother looked over at him doubtfully. ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    ¡°There is a dustbin by the corner outside,¡± My father answered.


    ¡°Oh,¡± My mother responded before my father walked out of the room.


    ¡°Did the doctor say anything about me?¡± I asked my mother, failing to see anything suspicious about their interaction. I was too focused on my problems.


    ¡°Huh?¡± She said. ¡°He didn¡¯t say anything. We only talked about your diet and how to take care of the wound after your discharge.¡±


    My mother was a bit distracted. Almost as if, there was something on her mind.


    We were just talking when the door opened and my father walked back accompanied by a familiar pot-bellied man. My mother froze upon seeing the man. She glared at him, showing him that his presence wasn¡¯t welcome.


    The man was the person whose money I had helped recover. He carried a sheepish grin on his face and held his hands clasped together in front of his chest. Almost like he was praying for my well-being. He was stunned to see me alive and kicking and almost broke down crying.


    ¡°You are fine.¡± The pot-bellied uncle said tremblingly. He fell to his knees with his hands clasped in front of his chest and started praying. ¡°Thank you, Lord Shiva. Thank you for your grace.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t do that,¡± I said worriedly.


    ¡°Stand up sir,¡± My father also went to hold the man, but he was not having it. My father got him to his feet somehow, and even then he kept thanking Lord Shiva for helping me tide over my troubles.


    It was an embarrassing and awkward moment. I believed Lord Shiva felt the same because they probably didn¡¯t have anything to do with my situation either. It didn¡¯t seem like the man was going to stop anytime soon either so I had to distract him.


    ¡°Ah,¡± I said slapping my head. ¡°Between everything I forgot to ask-- what happened to the thief? Did you retrieve the money, uncle? How was your son¡¯s operation? How is he?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± The man said coming out of his stupor. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said again as if he hadn¡¯t thanked me enough already. ¡°I got the money. I had to go to the police station to file the report but I was able to pay for the operation in time. With Lord Shiva¡¯s grace, the operation was also a success.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good that everything ended on a happy note.¡± My father said to end this matter.


    My mother wasn¡¯t having it. She responded by crossing her arms around her chest and snorting out in disagreement.


    I smelled gunpowder in the air and jumped out again to guide the conversation. What a heavy task the adults had left to the silly little me.


    ¡°What was your son¡¯s surgery?¡± I asked hopefully. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking,¡±


    The question made the man sigh. ¡°My Abhi urgently needed a heart stent. If¡ª if you hadn¡¯t helped-- you saved his life,¡± The man fell to his knees again. This time, thanking me instead of Lord Shiva.


    I saw my mother¡¯s face melt upon hearing the story. I believe his son''s name had a lot more to do with it, but I didn¡¯t interfere anymore.


    The man continued humbly, ¡°I don¡¯t know what would have happened if you hadn¡¯t helped. I¡¯m not a selfish guy. I¡¯m thankful to you for helping us but I¡¯m also sorry that you got hurt. If only I hadn¡¯t been so careless.¡± He said and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.


    My father pulled him to his feet again. ¡°You can¡¯t do anything in situations like this. You can only take things as they come and continue walking. We can¡¯t fight fate after all.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Yes!¡¯ The man agreed. ¡°You are right. Fate determines everything.¡±


    He was just another humble middle-class man who was barely making do and couldn¡¯t even stop just a few gusts of wind could rock his life away. He would have lost his everything if fate hadn¡¯t brought me in his tracks. It made me feel fearful and humble in front of destiny. The design of fate was all-encompassing and unchangeable.


    However, I also knew that fate wasn¡¯t done with me yet. The system wouldn¡¯t let me go so easily. If anything, my days were just starting. It made me fearful and excited thinking about all the people I would help along the way.


    ¡°Is your son admitted to the same hospital?¡± I asked.


    The man was stunned at first but also happy at the same moment.


    ¡°He¡¯s still in the ICU. They are going to keep him there for a day until his condition stabilizes before moving him to the general ward.¡± saying that he turned to my father, ¡°Sir, actually I wanted to talk to you about something. If you could come outside for a minute,¡±


    My father hesitated at first before agreeing with a nod. ¡°I was leaving anyway. You take care,¡± He told me. ¡°Don¡¯t move around too much. Your mother will be here.¡±


    ¡°Take her home,¡± I protested. ¡°I know she has been here since last night. Let her rest.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about me.¡± My mother interjected. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯ll go back with Abhey when he comes.¡±


    ¡°There really is no need.¡± I protested too. ¡°I¡¯m fine now. You are more in need of rest than I am. You probably only went back home in the morning to cook breakfast before coming back again here, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    She was stunned that I knew that. ¡°How do you know?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s obvious,¡± I didn¡¯t even have to use a skill. ¡°You should go back now. The doctor said I¡¯m fine. I can even get discharged tomorrow if nothing changes overnight. Just send Abhey over when he comes back from school.¡± I could see her hesitating and pressed harder. ¡°Go home, Ma. Come back later with Abhey if you want to. What if you got sick and had to be kept here under observation for a today or two? I don¡¯t think I can digest another day of the hospital''s meal. Besides, you know what kind of things father cooks.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a bad cook now?¡± My father said jokingly. ¡°Let¡¯s see you brothers ask me to cook you chicken next  time.¡±


    ¡°By the way,¡± I asked my mother. ¡°Could you send my physics book, a pen, and a notebook with Abhey later?¡±


    My parents looked at each other in confusion. ¡°Don¡¯t you mean your laptop?¡± My father asked.


    ¡°Nah, just the books, thanks,¡±


    ¡°Did he hit his head too?¡± I heard my mother murmur and reacted as any sensible person would. I ignored it. Even though a brain itch told me to announce my awesome academic results, I curbed it down. It wouldn¡¯t have accomplished anything. Anyone with two neurons could pass a test or two. I wanted to see their faces after topping the board exam. That would make them happy, right? I was hoping for it.


    Eventually, my mother agreed to go back. The adults went out of the room and I saw the man talking to my father through the viewing glass in the door. He was trying to push an envelope to my father, which my father kept declining no matter how hard the uncle pushed.


    The man probably felt responsible for me getting stabbed and wanted to pay for some of my expenses, but my father looked adamant and didn¡¯t take the money. Eventually, the man took the envelope back and thanked my father again before they all went out of my sight.


    I remembered the water bottle and hoped my father find anything suspicious inside. It made my heart beat a little faster. I wished I had been a bit more prudent. I admonished myself for acting so poorly. I could have gone to the adjoined bathroom to get my fill of blood. Thankfully, nothing too bad happened.


    At least I had the room to myself once again. This time, no one was going to disturb me for a while. I looked at the time on the phone. It was 12:02 pm and I was ready to check out the system notifications flashing in my sight.

 Ch-22: Oct-10

    There was more than one glowing letter flashing in my sight. The first one told me that I had completed the task and gained the power to heal myself. Restraining my urge to heal this hole in my abdomen, I checked out the other notifications.


    [Congratulations for reaching the milestone: Super Motivated.]


    [Task: Attain ten superpowers.]


    [Reward: All skills level up once.]


    I was eagerly waiting to reach this milestone. My plans depended on the improvements that level up would bring my powers. While checking my data panel, I noticed that my energy consumption had increased. It had not doubled as I expected, and neither had the strength of the superpowers.


    The level-up had improved my intelligence by only 20% so it was now 240% of my base value. The energy consumption had in turn increased from 100 calories to 150 calories per day.


    As for photographic memory, it still didn¡¯t let me memorize data from two senses at the same time. However, now I only needed to burn 40 calories to imprint a page of information in my brain. It was still a power-consuming beast, but a slightly less hungry one.


    Endurance added 20 % more glucose storage capacity to my body than the previous double-up.


    With Photosynthesis, the sunlight absorption radius remained the same, but the efficiency increased to 2%. Now I could theoretically absorb almost 500KJ worth of energy per hour.


    Data vision could show two pieces of information about an object at the same time. That was all for now. And heal my latest power, could though only heal surface wounds, now did that at twice the previous rate, an astonishing 20cal/sec. As for the effect, I hadn¡¯t tested it yet.


    My biggest respite was knowing that even though Furnace took away another 5% of the calories digested, it improved my digestion by a whole 33%. I calculated and learned that I could now digest a full meal in 3.6-4.8 hours. Meaning, that I could eat 5-6.6 full meals a day without stressing my stomach. I hadn¡¯t tested how much I could eat in a meal, but at the rate of 2000cal per meal I could at least eat 10000 calories a day. There was no comparison between the calories exempted and the ones gained.


    More astonishing than the improvements were the next milestones available. There were two.


    The First milestone was called Superman. The task was to attain 51 superpowers for a reward of ten wishes. I was concerned and surprised by the second milestone called allies. The task required was to share a superpower with someone. A free wish was rewarded for achieving this milestone. A free wish could allow me to acquire any superpower without doing the task. The reward was great, but achieving this milestone meant sharing the superpower. This was a scary proposition. Now I knew why the system existed. It probably wanted me to spread the superpowers. I could imagine the next milestones in this series requiring me to spread the superpowers like an epidemic among the people, immunizing everyone until either one had a superpower or they didn¡¯t.


    I found it difficult to decide how to go from here. However, everything took the back seat once I moved on to heal my wound.


    I easily removed my fluid line. The problem arose when I went to remove the white patches connected to my chest monitoring my heart rate and blood pressure. The machines flat-lined and started beeping as soon as I removed the patch. I panicked and hurriedly pasted the circular patches back on my chest but a nurse hurried to check on me anyway. She caught me red-handed in the act.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± She berated. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t remove them without permission!¡±


    It was the same nurse who had come before. I was already afraid. Now being alone in the presence of a beautiful girl, I also felt flustered.


    ¡°I-- I wanted to go to the toilet,¡± I uttered and groaned inwardly, wishing for a hole to crawl inside.


    ¡°You should have called someone. Don¡¯t be impatient. Do you even know how to put them back?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡±


    She glared at me for a second before sighing in relief. ¡°You almost gave everyone a scare do you know? Thank God, a code red wasn¡¯t called or you would have been surrounded by a whole team of nurses and interns trying to resuscitate you back to life.¡± She pushed a few of the machine''s buttons and when she removed the receptors the machine didn¡¯t cry to god this time.


    ¡°Call me when you are done. You know where the nurse station is?¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°Go left from the room. It¡¯s at the end of the hallway. I¡¯m sure you will find it.¡± She said.


    ¡°So you will come if I call?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± She said. I don¡¯t know what happened but she squinted and asked, ¡°Are all boys rascals?¡±


    ¡°Only when they are drugged up¡± My mouth spoke before my mind could understand the question, stunning the both of us.


    ¡°Humph,¡± She snorted and swayed around to leave when she noticed the empty blood bag.


    ¡°What happened to the blood bag? Why is it empty?¡±


    ¡°Why do you ask?¡± I acted.


    ¡°There was some blood left in the bottle¡­¡± She said worryingly.


    I shrugged my shoulders. Then slowly standing up I walked into the bathroom and locked myself inside. ¡°Don¡¯t force it.¡± I heard from outside. A thought told me she was making fun of me. Another thought told me she was a nurse and this was a part of her job.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I replied, my mouth once again answering before my mind could react. ¡°I always ask for the girl''s permission before I do it. So can I-- Do it?¡±


    I heard an abnormally loud thwack from a distant source and knew she had left the room.


    ¡°What the fucks wrong with me?¡± I wondered while removing my gown. My usual problem was not having words to say. Now I was speaking faster than I could think, making sexual jokes to a stranger, a beautiful girl... Was it a defect of my increased intelligence?


    I shook my head, putting the thought to the back of my mind. Wound first, the rest of the world later.


    I removed my gown and hung it from a hook behind the door. I looked healthier in the mirror. There was meat on my bones and some lard over the meat. The uncovered stitches garnered my attention. They looked like the drawing of a tiny octopus tentacle. The wound was only half a finger long and there were only five stitches, I counted. It still made me scared. I could have died. Had the knife stabbed a little deeper, and perforated my intestines, I could have suffered a long and painful death. The few beads of sweat racing down my forehead told me I wasn¡¯t as calm about the situation as I was showing.


    I rubbed my finger on the stitched wound and received weird feedback. It was not as painful as I imagined, but more awkward and...


    ¡°Never again,¡± I firmly told myself and then decided to test heal.


    ¡°Heal,¡± I muttered and I felt warmth circulate around the stitches. I wondered between completely healing the wound and disguising it later to mask the changes and partially healing it to improve my prognosis. Fear won and I only healed the wound until the soreness and the redness receded from the surrounding skin. What would happen to the stitches if the wound healed completely? The question forced me to stop at this point. Then I disguised some redness and soreness back to the wound to make it appear normal. The doctor was going to check my wound later. I didn¡¯t want to impress him.


    Taking a leak, I freshened up, put on my gown, and went out of the toilet. I almost slipped and fell in shock upon seeing the same nurse sitting on my bed, waiting for me. She jumped off the bed upon seeing me and stood beside the bed with a slight blush covering her face.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t leave?¡± My mouth went off again.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t seem like you would take that much time. Lie down,¡± She pointed to the bed.


    My eyes opened wider than they had when I splashed my face with cold water. ¡°Miss, you should finish your sentence. People might mistakenly think you have an ulterior motive.¡±


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.¡°Rascal,¡± She called again, but with much less anger.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t that close are we?¡± I said lying on the bed.


    She came and leaned over me to grab the receptors to put on my chest. She was buttoned up and gave me no sweetness, but she smelled of something sweet and savory.


    ¡°Like apricots,¡± My thoughts escaped my lips.


    The nurse froze then hurriedly pulled back covering her chest. There was a fire in her eyes, but it wasn¡¯t hot enough to burn down my newfound enthusiasm.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be angry at me. I was talking about the fragrance of your hair. Besides, you are an orange at least. Why would you think of yourself as an apricot?¡± Bullets were fired and the enemy ran away.


    ¡°Put them on yourself, bastard.¡± She threw the wired connectors at me and dashed out of the room.


    There was no thwack from the door, even when she closed it aggressively. I didn¡¯t realize my mistake until she was long gone. A bastard for real. This was not me. There was something very wrong with me. It was like my mind was working too fast and before I could even understand what I was thinking the words were coming out of my mouth.


    ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s exactly what it is.¡± My increased intelligence was the reason behind my trepidation.


    ¡°Wait, does that mean I was not a coward or a selfless guy at all? I was just¡­ dumb?¡±


    That was not possible. How could I be dumb when I worried about every decision? Coincidently, now I had so many thoughts that there was no time to decide anything. My brain was overworked. I groaned this time. It seemed like I would have to, yet again, postpone my plan to burn fat for energy. I urgently needed a superpower that could improve my brain capacity, or my mouth could get me in trouble.


    There was also an urge to let the situation continue for a while. I had never managed to land a comeback in a conversation before. This was the first time and I had to say¡­ it felt good. I made a beautiful girl fluster. Some might even consider this a feature and not a side effect. I still decided to let it go. No one liked Sheldon in his universe other than Penny. I was already hard-pressed for friends. Besides, the world didn¡¯t need another Kartik.


    I spent time watching a series on Netflix. Before long, it was 3:00 pm and I had my first visitor of the day. When the door opened, I thought it would be my mother and Abhey coming to see me, and was surprised to see Kartik at the door.


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    A frown replaced his smile. ¡°Is that how you welcome your friend who came to see you in hospital as soon as he could?¡±


    I would have shuddered like a rat in the corner. Not today. ¡°That depends on the friend, of course,¡± I poked him with a sharper comeback.


    ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± He was speechless for a second. ¡°Wait a minute, wait a minute,¡± He said, almost jumping on the chair by my bedside. ¡°You made me speechless.¡±


    ¡°It was easy,¡± I said with a snort. ¡°You should try it sometimes. Oh, what I am saying, that¡¯s all you do all day every day don¡¯t you mister motor mouth.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked suspiciously.


    ¡°I know, right?¡± I jabbed at his face, which made him flinch and I started laughing.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± He said slapping my hand away, which only made me laugh harder. ¡°I thought you got stabbed. Did you hit your head too? I mean you were fine yesterday. Did something happen--¡±


    ¡°Who told you I got stabbed?¡± I interrupted.


    ¡°Everyone knows.¡± Kartik said jovially. He seemed impressed with my Pain. He didn¡¯t want me to suffer so he could get some attention, did he?


    I watched him closely with squinted eyes while he continued, ¡°Our class teacher announced you got stabbed trying to catch a thief. I firmly believe he must have the person wrong because you, catching a thief? You have to tell me what happened because the teacher didn¡¯t say anything. Just a warning though. You might have some visitors later.¡±


    ¡°You mean our classmates might come to see me? I doubt it. Unless of course, they want to use this opportunity to ogle at some the nurses.¡±


    ¡°Yes, the nurses!¡± kartik rubbed his hands together in glee. ¡°They are so beautiful man! I asked one of them directions for to your room, but she got angry. She told me your room number but called you a rascal and told me to tell you that you¡¯ll never eat an orange in this life. What the hell did you do to that beautiful, Angel?¡±


    Thankfully, I wasn¡¯t drinking anything at that moment and Kartik survived getting bombarded by the wet-bomber.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I limped past the question.


    ¡°I believe you,¡± Kartik said knowingly. ¡°Anyways, tell me her name. She¡¯s right up my alley. I¡¯ll try my magic trick on her. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll like it.¡± He said and pulled out a feather from somewhere up his sleeve. Where did he keep the feathers, man? They weren¡¯t his, were they?


    ¡°Settle down. You came to meet me in your school uniform. She knows you are a high school kid.¡± I stabbed him and his scrunched face showed that I hit the lottery. ¡°Besides these nurses are not like those girls you pick up in the mall who don¡¯t know the difference between your four and average six inches.¡±


    ¡°Jesus Christ almighty,¡± He wasn¡¯t a Christian. I didn¡¯t believe he was anything. ¡°Never expected you to deliver such sick burns man, jeez.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m on painkillers. What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Say¡­¡± He said glaring at me expectantly with sparkling eyes. ¡°Can I see it?¡±


    I knew what was coming and it made me smile. ¡°I thought you liked girls. I left you for a day, and my brother, you turned gay?¡± I found this comeback way too funny and had another laughing fit. Kartik didn¡¯t like it that much.


    ¡°I would have fought you if you weren¡¯t injured.¡± I heard him. I couldn¡¯t see him because I was bucking over in laughter. ¡°Stop laughing. I was talking about your wound. Can I see your wound?¡±


    I had barely controlled my laughter to answer him when I saw him making a long face and started laughing again. Thankfully I had healed some of the damage otherwise this laughter would have ended in gasps and cold sweats.


    ¡°It¡¯s impossible to do it here,¡±  I said through the wheezing. ¡°You might have to lift my garb and only then will you see it.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you!¡± Kartik said and started trying to remove my gown.  I fought him to keep it.


    We were just joking around and having fun when the nurse arrived at the wrong time and started admonishing us.


    ¡°What are you doing to the patient?¡± She screamed in fright and lunged at Kartik to get him away from me.


    Kartik remembered or realized the seriousness of the situation and let her push him away and stood back with his arms raised.


    ¡°We were just playing around. I swear.¡±


    The nurse ignored him and started cursing me instead. ¡°Who told you to sit up? Haven¡¯t I told you to lie down? You just had surgery. What if your stitches open? Do you want to bleed again?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Please behave appropriately.¡± The nurse said tucking me under the blanket. ¡°This is a hospital. Not your private room,¡±


    She was so close to me. I couldn¡¯t help but lean closer to her and take a whiff. I think I smiled too, which she saw, causing her to grimace.


    ¡°You make me sick.¡± The nurse aggressively pulled the blanket over my head and left it there. I rushed to uncover my head, only to see her leaving the room.  Kartik was also looking at her with his arms raised. He dropped his arms and glanced back at me in confusion when the door opened with an aggressive thwack and he raised his hands again in fear. The nurse walked back carrying the same grimace. She noted my heart rate, oxygen levels, and blood pressure in a file before glaring at me and leaving the room again.


    ¡°I think,¡± Kartik said, dropping his arms, ¡°She likes you.¡±


    ¡°I think she¡¯d like to prod my body with sharp needles.¡± I raised my arm to show him my I.V. and he burst out laughing.


    ¡°That was funny,¡± Kartik, said wiping his tears. ¡°I hope you stay like this forever. I like this version of you.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I don¡¯t like it very much. I will be back to being the same old me tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s sad, brother,¡± Kartik stressed the word and patted my arm. ¡°I¡¯m going to miss you fearless Joe. A heads up. I gave Sonam your phone number. So she might call you when she gets home.¡±


    ¡°She asked for it?¡± I wasn¡¯t worried. I wasn¡¯t. I was only sweating because it was hot in the room.


    ¡°Yes and no,¡± Kartik said. ¡°Does it matter?¡±


    ¡°Nah, we¡¯ll cross the bridge when we come to it.¡± Talking about relationships, I also remembered something. ¡°Say¡­ what do you think about Kusum?¡±


    Kartik gave me a whole list. ¡°I think she¡¯s a class a bitch. She should be in a Zoo somewhere, away from people. So she can¡¯t harm anyone. No,¡± He shook his head. ¡°That will be disrespectful to all the other zoo animals. She¡¯s cute, otherwise who would even talk to her? I certainly wouldn¡¯t. Have you seen her face when she gets angry? Her eyes crinkle and her nose flares. She stretches her lips like they are rubber bands. It gives me Goosebumps, man. I¡¯m telling you, I would have given her a beating if she wasn¡¯t Sonam¡¯s friend. Sonam¡¯s an angel compared to her. You are lucky she¡¯s even interested in you.¡±


    I ignored his last words and poked him. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of thoughts for someone you don¡¯t care about.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± His eyebrows rose in question. He was just as expressive as Kusum. No wonder the data vision put them at such a high risk of getting together.


    ¡°I mean, you both are very similar to each other. I think you will like each other company.¡±


    ¡°Me and her? No way.¡± Kartik shook his head. Then started pondering and shook his head again. ¡°Absolutely not,¡± He acted as if that was the end of the matter, but I could see him mulling over it


    The seed implanted in his mind, my work ended. Whether the seed could blossom was up to him.

 Ch-23: Oct-10

    It was evening when my phone rang, displaying an unknown number. I hesitated at first when a little voice popped up in my head and told me that standing up for myself also meant picking up unknown phone calls and talking to strangers. I shook my head to push the voice away, but it encouraged me and told me I¡¯d be fine, that it was just a phone call. I could always end the call.


    Knowing I¡¯d be safe, I picked up the phone.


    ¡°Hello,¡± I said. No answer; only shallow breathing noises through the receiver.


    ¡°Who¡¯s this,¡± I asked again. I found it easier to take a call than I had imagined. The fruits of my improved intelligence were varied and versatile.


    ¡°Sahil?¡± Finally, a girly voice spoke and I almost jerked up from the bed. Thankfully, I had healed the wound and nothing bad happened.


    ¡°Sonam, is that you? You finally called, huh?¡± I winced at my mouth and almost threw away the phone in fear. What the fuck was that?


    I guess even she was stunned to hear those words because she didn¡¯t speak again for a while.


    ¡°How¡­ are you?¡± came a snotty, trembling voice from the phone speaker.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Except for the gruel they are feeding me down here. Everything else is just fine. Perfect. What about you? How are you holding up without me? You didn¡¯t miss me, right?¡±


    ¡°Wha!¡± We both screamed at the same time. Gosh! I was like Jim Carry in the movie Mask. I was fighting myself over control. I wasn¡¯t going to become a different, volatile, outgoing, and sleazy person. Was I?


    I heard the phone fall from her hand. Then there was a panicked scream and hurried footsteps before Sonam picked up the phone again.


    ¡°Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?¡±


    ¡°How could I not? That was a nice scream by the way. Very inspiring. You should try t--¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± She yelled at me. ¡°Why are you acting like¡­ Kartik?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m on drugs. That¡¯s why. By drugs, I mean painkillers. So don¡¯t start screaming again. Though, I liked the excitement in your voice. It made me happy.¡±


    ¡°I make you happy?¡±


    ¡°Very,¡±


    Drugs were the excuse I was using to explain my yapping. My mother glared at me from the side of the room, acting as if she knew the truth. Her face got so red I thought she would explode and send a wave of hot gases at me. Then I remembered she already believed I was an addict. Perhaps, my recent behavior was only cementing her doubts. So really, all I was doing was kicking my own leg and hammering my own foot. So much for improving my intelligence, I just felt dumb. However, the best proof of intelligence is to know your own shortcomings. Perhaps, I was intelligent or it was just--


    Shit! I was letting my mind run circles around my will again. I needed to sort this out or this was going to be a problem. Fuck aesthetically gorgeous abs, I needed a superpower that could calm down my possessed mind.


    ¡°How was school? Did anything exciting happen?¡± I asked normally, controlling my urge to spit out a dictionary full of sentences at her.


    ¡°The school was normal, boring, and long. As for something exciting-- you scored full marks on the physics test!¡±


    I could hear the joy in her voice. It was contagious. It made me feel warm inside. It was refreshing. Then I said, ¡°Why is that exciting? You don¡¯t believe in me, huh.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like that?¡± With a weak squeak, she said, ¡°I believe you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right. Don¡¯t lose hope in me. I¡¯m counting on you.¡± I didn¡¯t know what the hell I was talking about but it was making Sonam embarrassed.


    ¡°So¡­¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°When are you coming back to school?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow,¡±


    ¡°Not tomorrow. You are going to rest at home for a few days.¡± My mother chimed in from the side.


    ¡°Did you hear that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Is your mother in the room with you?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°Do you want to talk to her? It¡¯s going to happen eventually. You might as well get started now.¡±


    Then the call suddenly disconnected. I tried calling her back but no one picked it up.


    ¡°Huh, she could have just said no.¡± I saved her number in my contacts under the name Sunflower. Then I went back to reading physics.


    ¡°Is she your classmate?¡± My mother asked. I answered her with a short and dry ¡®hmm¡¯, hoping she¡¯d understand I wasn¡¯t gonna answer her question.


    ¡°What¡¯s her name?¡± She didn¡¯t understand. I hummed again.


    My mother threw a curved ball at me. ¡°Does she know you do drugs?¡±


    ¡°I just told her I¡¯m on drugs and she was fine with it because she believes in me. Do you?¡± I hit a home run. My mother didn¡¯t ask me another question again. She simply snorted and got back to watching her favorite reality show on the phone.


    The improved skills were amazing. The sunlight coming from the window was doing a great job of juicing me up. I had four thousand or so calories stored in the battery and now photographic memory only burned 40 KJ of energy per page.


    My mother came back to the hospital at three. It was 4:57 pm and I had finished reading half the book during this time. Reading still felt like a waste of time, however. I could really be using this time to do other things. It was fine for now since I was bedridden, but I might not want to sit still reading books over an extended period in a couple of days. I finally decided to look into a power that could help me read books with a touch. Although I wouldn¡¯t understand the knowledge contained in the book, the information would be forever stored in my mind and I could always look back at it and understand it slowly over time.


    Then I wouldn¡¯t have to sit down and scribble notes on a piece of paper. I would be saving tons of paper and pencils, saving who knew how many trees in the process. I would contribute to reducing carbon emissions and protecting our planet. Just thinking about it made me laugh. Who knew higher intelligence also meant degeneracy?


    Abhey and our mother shared a glance when they saw me laughing out of nowhere. I ignored it because what else could I do? I couldn¡¯t tell them every single one of my thoughts. They would still have the same misunderstandings about me. Why bother?


    However, there was one thing I was noticing. Abhey had been uncharacteristically quiet for the whole time he had been here. I believed he¡¯d make fun of me, talking about my new hole or something. But he was as cold as an ice block. He sat in the distance like a shadow, immovable and untouchable.


    I wanted to talk to him, which was impossible with our mother in the room.


    Then at 10 past six, the doctor finally visited the room along with my father. He checked my report for the past half a day, before getting surprised after looking at my stitches.


    The look scared my parents a little and me a lot.


    ¡°Is there something wrong?¡± My father asked.


    ¡°Nothing serious,¡± The doctor replied. ¡°It¡¯s just the area around the stitches is generally swollen red for the first few days; inflammation is the symptom of the body fighting sickness. Look at the stitches, the wound has already started healing around it. That¡¯s very strange.¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.I looked at my stitches and I didn¡¯t find anything out of the ordinary. That was a lesson in professionalism for me. I still fucked it up a little bit, huh. I disguised the area around the wound, but not the wound itself. It was a rookie mistake. Hopefully, I won¡¯t need to make more such mistakes.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that a good thing?¡± My father asked.


    ¡°Oh, yes, absolutely,¡± The doctor replied coming out of a daze.


    ¡°So can I leave now?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see any reason why you can¡¯t. There are some procedures you need to follow for the care of your wound.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m all ears,¡± I was pumped.


    ¡°Are you always so hyped up?¡± The doctor asked curiously.


    ¡°He says it¡¯s the painkillers,¡± My mother said.


    ¡°Who gave you painkillers?¡± The doctor asked sternly.


    ¡°I was joking.¡± I was panicking and my mind went on fire trying to do damage control. ¡°I was just being sarcastic. Haven¡¯t you seen those videos on YouTube where the patients under anesthesia become increasingly truthful?¡±


    The doctor and my father shared a glance. I didn¡¯t know what they decided but the doctor said, ¡° ¡°Maybe we should keep him here for one more night just to be sure there is absolutely nothing wrong with him. We¡¯ll also do a few more toxicology and pathology tests while we are at it. If that¡¯s all right with you?¡± He asked my father.


    I guess I, the patient, had no say in this decision. My father agreed and I was back on the bed wondering what the hell just happened. If I had heard my parent¡¯s conversation with the doctor, I would have noticed that the doctor was now suspicious that I might be taking drugs.


    Then night came and I finally managed to send my mother back home to rest. Abhey stayed. There was an extra bed in the room and he took it for himself. He lay there with his back to me, keeping to his phone. He seemed increasingly reluctant to be in the same room with me. My suspicion deepened with the night because he didn¡¯t make a single joke or jab at me while he was there. It was as if he had suddenly lost his glib tongue. I wished the doctor was there so I could ask him if that was a symptom of something. I was definitely mad at him for keeping me in the hospital for another night.


    ¡°Abhey?¡± I called.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± He said without looking up from his phone.


    ¡°Look at me when I¡¯m talking to you,¡± I said. I was stern, but he shook as if someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of his shirt.


    Eventually, he rolled over on the bed, and facing me he asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°You tell me.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± He asked and looked away.


    His behavior made me nervous. The Abhey I knew was an asshole, an asshole, and an asshole. He was many other things too but not a¡­ coward.


    ¡°Did anyone say anything? Did something happen at school?¡±


    He dropped his head again and denied strongly.


    ¡°Then what happened,¡± I asked calmly, and quietly. ¡°You are not acting normal. Let¡¯s not talk about making fun of me, you haven¡¯t talked to me all day. You say there¡¯s nothing wrong and I don¡¯t believe you.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± He dropped his head. His voice was quiet and lacking strength. It scared me. I waited for me to complete the question but he didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Why what?¡± I asked after waiting for a while.


    ¡°Why did you do it?¡± He said raising his head. His voice shook. ¡°Why did you run after the guy? I know you. You are a scared, shy, introvert. You are a coward,¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± I said. He didn¡¯t.


    Abhey continued aggressively and unabated. ¡°You are not a chaser. You don¡¯t even like running! You are someone who would sit through a stampede if you knew the bulls wouldn¡¯t charge at you.¡±


    ¡°You seem to know an awful lot about me. Why do you think I did it?¡±


    ¡°Because¡­¡± He bit his lips and clenched his fists. As if his thoughts were clashing, like he¡­ blamed himself.


    I understood and started laughing.¡±You think I ran after the thief because you told me to stand up for myself? Is that it? You think if you hadn¡¯t said those words then I wouldn¡¯t have ran after the guy and I wouldn¡¯t have been stabbed? Is that right?¡±


    I wasn¡¯t asking a question.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what happened,¡± I told him and myself. I also needed clarification as to what actually happened that evening. ¡°Your words only nudged the decision slightly in the favor of me running after the thief. Our interaction was a very small gear in a very long chain of events that led to this.¡± I said pointing at my abdomen.


    ¡°Besides, I saved a life today. Did you know that?¡± He looked at me with wet eyes. ¡°The money that the thief stole was for someone''s heart operation. The uncle had loaned it out from various people and barely managed to get together those 1.5 lakhs. If I hadn¡¯t stopped the thief, his son would most definitely have died today or tomorrow. So blame the thief if you want to blame someone. Blame our system that forces people to pay before operation. Heck, you can blame me too! I should have thought more about all the people I would be concerned with my actions. But don¡¯t blame yourself,¡±


    ¡°I am proud of you. If you weren¡¯t my brother maybe I really would have ignored the thief and come back home. Maybe I would have heard from someone about the robber and the boy¡¯s death and hurt myself wondering if I could have done something. Who knows what could have happened? All I know is that I¡¯m fine and the boy is fine too. They also caught the thief. So what¡¯s the problem? Wait--¡±


    I suddenly remembered something. ¡°You didn¡¯t record that-- did you?¡±


    We both looked at his phone and then he started giggling through the tears.


    ¡°I forgot,¡± He said through the wet sniffs.


    I remembered the night he was born. It was a windy October night and I was standing outside the hospital with my father and my grandma. I remember the nurse rushing out of the ICU and asking my father¡¯s opinion about opting for a bigger operation because there were some complications and it would cost more. My father agreed without hesitation. I used to take care of him growing up. Warm milk for him and put him to sleep in the makeshift sling that my father had hung from the roof in our lobby. On his first day in school as a three-year-old, he bothered his teacher so much that she dropped him in my classroom. He kept talking to me in class and I being a serious student at that time complained to the teacher. I was afraid the teacher would punish me, but the teacher said it was all right and I could talk to him and I felt such relief. I was a stupid big brother. I still am.


    ¡°Say,¡± I said to get his attention and continued after he raised his head to look at me. ¡°When was the last time we watched a movie together?¡±


    ¡°Last year,¡± He answered as if it was sitting on the tip of his tongue waiting to be said. ¡°We binged the lord of the Rings series in one sitting.¡± He said with a nervous chuckle.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we watch another one together? Have you watched the latest Scream movie? The reviews say it¡¯s pretty good.¡±


    He glared at me.


    ¡°What?¡± I chuckled knowingly.


    ¡°A stab victim watching a slasher movie¡­¡± He said seriously.


    I snickered and then we were both laughing. I controlled my laughter so it wouldn¡¯t affect my stitches, but he was laughing so hard he had to push his face into a pillow just to hide the noise.


    In the end, we watch a different movie together. Then it was 11:37 and Abhey went to sleep. I waited until midnight struck to see what kind of absurd mission today¡¯s task would give me. I knew what kind of power I wanted.


    I liked this loud-mouthed maniac that I had become, but I was not him. I wanted to be rid of him. According to my understanding and data vision¡¯s interpretation, the reason behind it all was my suddenly increased intelligence. My brain couldn¡¯t handle the stress. Postponing my beauty treatment, I decided to ask for a power that would strengthen my brain and neural networks to prevent me from becoming Kartick¡¯s body double and to prevent a brain hemorrhage, hernia, swelling, and Alzheimer¡¯s.


    I asked the wish from the system when midnight struck and was stunned by the task. It wasn¡¯t as gross as drinking blood, but it was not any less tedious.