Resignation Draft

Raat ke 1:17 baje the aur Naina Khurana ka laptop uske bed ke edge par khula pada tha, jaise woh bhi uske saath jag raha ho. Screen pe file ka naam chamak raha tha: Resignation_Draft_Final_v7. Cursor blink kar raha tha, bilkul usi tarah jaise Naina ka dimaag—ek second haan, dusre second nahi, teesre second phir se haan.

Usne pehle line type ki thi: Please accept my resignation with immediate effect. Phir delete kar diya. Phir likha: I would like to resign from my position... Phir ruk gayi.

Gurgaon ki raat bahar se silent lagti thi, par andar se nahi. Neeche society ke gate pe late-night Swiggy riders ka horn, kahin door expressway pe gaadiyon ka continuous shor, aur uske apne flat ke andar AC ki thandi humming—sab milke ek aisa background bana rahe the jisme Naina ko apni saans bhi ajeeb lag rahi thi.

Woh 29 saal ki thi, client servicing executive. Mid-sized corporate office, Cyber Hub ke side mein, jahan log caffeine pe zinda rehte the aur LinkedIn pe apni “growth journey” ka celebration karte the. Naina bhi unhi logon mein se ek lagti thi—calm face, neatly tied hair, polite smile. Par andar? Andar woh itni thak chuki thi ki kabhi-kabhi lagta tha uska mind office ke login password se bhi zyada locked hai.

Resignation draft uske liye bas ek document nahi tha. Woh uska secret panic room tha.

Usne cursor ko phir se line ke end par le jaakar socha—job chhodna really itna scary kyun lag raha hai? Job se zyada toh woh is baat se dar rahi thi ki job chhodne ke baad woh hogi kaun. Client servicing ka badge, daily standup ka role, “Naina from accounts/client team” ka label—yeh sab hat gaya toh bachega kya? Sirf Naina? Aur woh Naina kaunsi?

Laptop screen mein uska face reflected ho raha tha. Thoda dull, thoda tired, thoda blank. Jaise kisi ne uske andar se color volume pehle hi kam kar diya ho.

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Monday morning ka Gurgaon apna alag hi mood leke aata hai. Traffic ka hangover, metro se utarte logon ki rushed footsteps, coffee cups ke saath office lobby mein daudte faces—sab ek hi race mein the. Naina bhi same race ka part thi. 9:42 AM pe office enter kiya, badge swipe kiya, aur apne desk par baithte hi Outlook open kar diya, jaise body office mein aur soul kisi aur city mein ho.

“Good weekend?” Arjun Mehta ki voice uske cubicle ke paas se aayi.

Arjun same office ka team lead tha—32 ka, polished, crisp shirts, perfect hair, aur woh corporate confidence jo ya toh genuinely hota hai ya phir bahut practice se aata hai. Uski tone mein hamesha ek calm practicality hoti thi, jaise usne life ko spreadsheet mein arrange kar rakha ho.

Naina ne ek soft smile diya. “Haan, normal. Tumhara?”

“Busy,” Arjun ne apne laptop ko open karte hue bola. “Thoda catch-up kar raha tha. You know how it is.”

Naina ne sirf nod kiya. “Yeah.”

Actually weekend normal nahi tha. Usne Saturday ko do ghante roke rakhe the aur Sunday ko resignation draft ke 11 versions banaye the. Par yeh sab Arjun ko kaun batata? Corporate world mein honesty ka bhi ek polished version hota hai.

Subah client ka call tha. Unka tone waise hi unreasonable tha jaise unka brand budget. “We need this turned around by EOD,” client ne bola, jabki brief kal hi aaya tha aur usmein directions aise the jaise kisi ne blindfold pehen ke power point banaya ho.

Naina ne “Sure, we’ll try” kaha. Try. Woh word jo office mein sabse zyada abuse hota hai.

Call ke baad manager ne desk pe aa kar bola, “Naina, tumne jo last week ka deck handle kiya tha na, great work. Waise ek aur version bana do, client ko aur options chahiye. Aur haan, Arjun ko CC kar dena.”

Great work ka matlab hota tha—ab aur kaam. Appreciation ka corporate formula wahi tha: pehle thoda sugar, phir extra workload.

Naina ne smile maintain ki. Internally usne resignation draft mein ek aur line add kar di: I have decided to pursue other opportunities. Phir us line ko bhi cut kar diya.

Din bhar aise hi chhoti-chhoti cuts lagte rahe. Kisi aur ka credit, kisi aur ki urgency, kisi aur ki mistake ka cleanup. Lunch break mein usne paneer roll ka half khaya aur baaki half desk pe hi chhod diya. Jab tak client ke second follow-up mail ne inbox mein entry nahi maari, tab tak uska mood already drain ho chuka tha.

Shaam ko office se nikalte waqt Arjun ne casually bola, “Cab share karein? Metro line mein aaj phir issue hai.”

Naina ne pehle mana karna chaha. Phir bol diya, “Okay.”

Cab Cyber Hub se nikal kar traffic mein atak gayi. Outside glass window, Gurgaon ki lights jal rahi thi—restaurants, office towers, billboards, sab kuch bright aur expensive lag raha tha. Inside cab, thoda awkward silence tha, jo Delhi-NCR mein almost intimacy jaisa hota hai.

Arjun ne radio low volume pe chhod diya. “Tum thodi quiet lag rahi ho aaj.”

Naina ne window se nazar hata ke uski taraf dekha. “Bas tired hoon.”

“Same,” Arjun ne bina emotion ke bola, aur phir halka sa hansa. “Actually sab same hi hote hain. Bas kuch log better package mein tired hote hain.”

Naina ko uski baat pe hansi aa gayi, ek chhoti si real hansi. “Tum itne cynical kab se ho?”

“Corporate mein survive karne ke liye thoda cynical hona padta hai,” Arjun ne kaha. “Varna har mail personal attack lagne lagta hai.”

Phir thodi der chup rahe. Cab flyover pe chad rahi thi. Neeche traffic lights orange-red blur ban gayi thi.

Naina ne bina soche bol diya, “Kitne log sach mein job chhod dete hain?”

Arjun ne uski taraf dekha, phir aage road pe focus kiya. “Depends. Job chhodna asaan hai. Life ka structure chhodna mushkil hai.”

Naina ne kuch nahi bola. Par uska silence itna heavy tha ki Arjun ko samajh aa gaya—question casual nahi tha.

“Why?” usne dheere se pucha.