WFH Background

Riya Malhotra ne laptop khola hi tha ki room ke corner mein rakha pressure cooker phir se seeti maar gaya. Usne ek second ke liye aankhen band kiं, jaise koi internal countdown chal raha ho—3, 2, 1—aur phir jaldi se curtain aur bhi tight kar diya. Noida ke us chhote se rented room mein subah ki light bhi poori tarah enter nahi kar paati thi, lekin Riya ne virtual background se usse bhi zyada polished bana rakha tha: ek sleek bookshelf, do books jo kabhi padi hi nahi jaati thi, ek indoor plant jo obviously fake lag raha tha, aur warm beige wall jo uske real room ki peeling paint se bilkul alag thi.

“Perfect,” usne khud se kaha, aur apni camera preview ko dekhkar halki si smile ki. Camera pe woh hamesha calm dikhti thi—straight posture, subtle lipstick, hair neatly tied, aur voice mein woh controlled confidence jo Gurgaon-based SaaS company ke marketing manager ko suit karta hai. Office mein sabko lagta tha Riya naturally composed hai. Koi nahi jaanta tha ki uski composure ke peeche ek full-time jugglery chal rahi thi—WFH mein image bachane ki, room ko hide karne ki, aur apni life ko un logon ke standards ke hisaab se presentable dikhane ki jo khud Zoom pe pajamas mein hote the.

Room ke bahar se Nandini Malhotra ki awaaz aayi, “Riyaaa, beta, chai pee li? Aur haan, us medicine ka reminder bhi set kar dena apne papa ke liye.”

Riya ne mute button dabaya aur teeth clenched smile ke saath ceiling ki taraf dekha. “Maa, abhi meeting hai,” usne volume thoda low karke bola. “Bas ten minutes mein start ho jayegi.”

“Ten minutes mein toh sab kuch start ho jaata hai tumhare office ka,” Nandini ne hallway se jawab diya. “Kabhi kabhi lagta hai tum log kaam kam, English zyada karte ho.”

Riya ko hasi aayi, par woh hasi tension mein phans gayi. Usne camera angle ko thoda left shift kiya taaki bed ka corner frame se bahar ho jaaye. Bed pe folded laundry ka ek pile tha, ek cardboard box tha jisme Diwali ke baad se kuch cheezein padi thi, aur table ke neeche extension wire ka tanka-jhanki scene alag hi tha. Real life ka background itna messy tha ki uske fake background ke saamne aur bhi embarrassing lagta tha.

Aaj team sync thi, aur usme Kabir Sethi bhi hoga—product lead, Delhi se, aur woh aadmi jo har cheez ko ek half-smirk ke saath observe karta tha. Kabir ka style hi alag tha: casual shirt, uncombed-but-intentional hair, aur aisa tone jaise woh office culture ka mazaak uda raha ho, but actually sab kuch notice kar raha ho. Riya ko usse thoda irritation bhi thi aur thoda caution bhi. Kabir un logon mein se tha jo ek glance se hi samajh jaate the ki kisi ki energy off hai.

Call start hui. Screen pe pehle manager, phir design lead, phir Kabir ka face aaya. “Morning, guys,” Kabir ne apni usual lazy confidence ke saath bola. “Hope everyone’s surviving this glorious WFH era.”

“Barely,” kisi ne laugh kiya.

Riya ne bhi polite smile di. “Morning.”

Kabir ki nazar ek second ke liye Riya ke background pe tik gayi. “Nice setup, Riya,” usne casually bola. “Bohot curated lag raha hai. Very… Pinterest-core.”

Riya ke fingers laptop ke trackpad pe thode tight ho gaye. “Thanks,” usne normal tone mein jawab diya. “Trying to keep things clean.”

Kabir ne ek eyebrow subtly raise ki, jaise usne kuch catch kar liya ho. “Yeah, clean enough.”

Riya ko woh line harmless lagni chahiye thi, but uske andar ek alarm baj gaya. Usne apni screen ke reflection mein khud ko dekha—perfect, composed, almost too perfect. Aur phir usne background ko dekha. Edges thode unnatural lage. Shayad internet slow tha. Shayad uska dimaag hi overactive tha. Lekin uska chest tight ho gaya.

Meeting mein points discuss ho rahe the: campaign rollout, lead quality, dashboard numbers. Riya bol rahi thi confidently, “We can optimize the funnel if we refine the messaging around the mid-intent segment,” aur sab normal lag raha tha. Exactly waise hi jaise woh chahti thi—smart, efficient, in control.

Tabhi kitchen se ek zor ki seeti aayi.

Riya ka jaw clenched. “Sorry, one sec,” usne mic mute kiya aur chair se half-uth kar door ki taraf dekha. “Maa, gas band kar do!”

Nandini ki awaaz aur paas aa gayi. “Arre band hi hai! Yeh pressure cooker ki seeti hai. Aur sun, zara market se tomatoes le aana aaj shaam ko. Aur haan, kal jo tumhari chachi ka phone aaya tha na—”

“Ma, abhi meeting mein hoon,” Riya ne hissed whisper mein bola.

“Meeting mein ho ya moon par, ghar toh ghar hota hai,” Nandini ne full practical tone mein kaha, aur phir ek plate ke saath room ke door ke paas aa gayi. “Yeh le, nashta kar le. Khaali pet kaam karegi toh phir migraine hoga.”

Riya ne panic mein haath se plate rokne ki koshish ki, lekin Nandini already frame ke thoda andar aa chuki thi. Ek second ke liye fake bookshelf ke edge ke saath real wall ka mismatch dikh gaya. Upar se Nandini ki bright yellow dupatta aur steel plate ka reflection—sab kuch camera pe ek weird collage jaisa lag raha tha.

Kabir ne screen pe seedha dekha. “Uh… Riya? Everything okay?”

Riya ka heart ek dum se throat mein aa gaya. “Yes—network issue,” usne fast बोल दिया. “Just a second.”

Usne jaldi se mic mute kiya aur camera angle aur tight kar diya. Uske fingers thode kaanp rahe the. Nandini ne abhi bhi plate table pe rakh di aur low voice mein boli, “Arre, kya issue? Koi dekh raha hai kya?”

“Mom, please,” Riya ne almost pleading tone mein kaha.

Nandini ne aankhen sikodiं. “Bas tumhari company ke log hi toh hain. Itna tension kyun leti ho? Ghar ka background itna kharab thode na hai.”