The SmartO(My brain Child) Meeting ended with a familiar ache in my chest. Kishore had done it again—smooth, strategic, and just manipulative enough to make it look like collaboration. He twisted the conversation, made it sound like we’d agreed to share our roadmap. We hadn’t. But no one corrected him. The other teams just nodded, complicit in their silence.
I closed my laptop and stared at the screen for a moment longer than necessary. My hands hovered over the keyboard, then moved to my phone.
Me: “Hey, got a minute? Just need to talk.”
Anjali: “Sure! Call me.”
I dialed. Her voice was bright, familiar.
Anjali: “Hey you! What’s up?”
I hesitated, then let the words spill.
Me: “Today was… hard. Kishore twisted the whole conversation. Again. And the others just let it happen. It’s like they’re not collaborating—they’re just playing us. I felt so exposed. Like I was the only one not in on the game.”
There was a pause. I waited.
Anjali: “Hmm.”
Just that. A soft, neutral sound. No follow-up. No “That sounds awful.” No “I’m here for you.”
Then she pivoted.
Anjali: “You know, my friend Priya is like that—always chasing trends. Yesterday she bought this neon green jacket just because it’s viral on Insta. Can you believe it?”
I blinked. My heart sank.
Me: “Oh… yeah?”
Anjali: “Yeah! And now she’s planning a trip to Bali just because it’s trending. I mean, who does that?”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. I asked questions. I laughed in the right places. I was present. I always am.
But inside, I was shrinking.
That night, I sat on my balcony alone, the city lights flickering like restless thoughts. I replayed the call in my head.
Why didn’t she hear me?
I imagined saying it differently.
“Anjali, I’m not okay. I don’t need advice. I just need someone to sit with me in this. Can you do that?”
But I hadn’t said that. I’d hoped she’d just know.
I picked up my phone again. Ramees’s name stared back at me. I hesitated, then tapped.
Ramees: “Hey, you okay?”
Just two words. But they landed like a warm blanket.
Me: “Not really. Can I talk?”
Ramees: “Of course. I’m here.”
And I talked. About Kishore. About the call. About how I felt like a ghost in my own team. About Anjali. About the “hmm.”
He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t pivot. He just stayed.
Ramees: “I hear you. That sounds really heavy. I’m glad you called.”
