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.”

Riya ne uski taraf dekha, aur us moment mein usse sach mein lagaa—background kharab nahi tha, bas uske expectations alag the. Lekin yeh baat woh bol nahi sakti thi. Office mein sabko lagta tha she had it all sorted. A single room, shared bathroom, old fan ki awaaz, cupboard pe chipke reminders, aur ek auntie-type landlord jo kabhi bhi rent ke liye knock kar deti thi—yeh sab “professional brand” ka hissa nahi tha.

Mic on karte hi meeting continue ho gayi. Riya ne deep breath li aur phir se bolna shuru kiya, “So, as I was saying, the campaign needs a more human angle…”

Lekin tabhi Kabir ne slight smile ke saath bola, “Human angle toh mil gaya. Background ka bhi, maybe.”

Kuch seconds ke liye room mein dead silence ho gayi. Riya ka face heat se bhar gaya. Kisi ne laugh nahi ki, but sabko samajh aa gaya tha ki kuch off hua hai. Kabir ka tone sarcastic tha, par cruel nahi. Fir bhi Riya ko laga jaise uske carefully built house of cards mein hawa lag gayi ho.

Usne smile maintain ki. “Just a minor glitch.”

“Sure,” Kabir ne bola, lekin uski aankhon mein ab bhi woh sharp observation thi.

Meeting aage badh gayi. Riya ne kaam pe focus karne ki puri koshish ki, but mind baar-baar usi line pe atak raha tha—Background ka bhi, maybe. Kabir ne mazaak mein bola tha, lekin usne expose toh kar diya tha. Ab bas ek aur slip ki der thi.

Aur woh der zyada nahi lagi.

Call ke beech hi office IT support ka automated voice pop up hua: “Hello team, we are experiencing temporary system instability. Please remain on the line.”

“Great,” Kabir muttered under his breath.

Riya ne apne screen pe dekha. Background thoda flicker kar raha tha. Ek corner mein plant ka pot blur hua, phir suddenly straight line mein cut hua. Uske real room ka ek chhota sa hissa dikh gaya—unmade bed ka edge, laundry basket, aur wall pe tape se chipki ek old electricity bill ki slip.

Riya ka stomach drop hua.

“Wait—” usne bas itna hi bola tha ki screen freeze ho gayi. Aur us freeze mein fake bookshelf ke peeche ka real room poori tarah exposed ho gaya. Not completely, but enough. Enough for everyone to know. Enough for Kabir to see the truth.

Riya ka dimag blank ho gaya. Usne apne haath ko desk pe press kiya, jaise khud ko physically stable rakhna ho. Uski saans chhoti ho gayi. Uss ek second mein usse yaad aaya ki kaise woh har subah is background ko set karti thi, kaise room ke kapde fold karke corner mein phenkti thi, kaise camera ke neeche ka mess hide karti thi. Sab kuch is fear pe based tha ki agar sach dikh gaya, toh log samjhenge woh less capable hai. Less polished. Less deserving.

System recover hua. Call wapas normal hua. Lekin Riya ke liye kuch normal nahi raha.

Kabir ne kuch pal tak kuch nahi bola. Phir usne apni voice ko softer kiya, almost unexpectedly human. “Riya, relax. Itna bura bhi nahi hai.”

Riya ne uski taraf dekha. “What?”

Kabir ne ek chhoti si shrug di. “I mean… half of us are pretending some version of ourselves on calls. Main bhi. Bas mera fake background nahi, fake confidence hai.”

Kisi aur ne awkward chuckle kiya, but Kabir was still looking at her with a kind of quiet understanding that Riya hadn’t expected from him. Manager ne quickly topic shift kar diya, but the damage—or maybe the relief—was already done.

Meeting end hui. Riya ne laptop band nahi kiya, bas screen ko dekhti rahi. Nandini room ke bahar se phir aayi, is baar thoda slow. “Sab theek hai?” usne poocha, ab ki baar uski awaaz mein nosiness se zyada concern tha.

Riya ne pehli baar usse seedha dekha. “Maa… mujhe bas thoda privacy chahiye hoti hai kabhi-kabhi.”

Nandini ne lips press kiye. “Mujhe pata hai. Par mujhe laga tu apne room ko leke itni sensitive kyu hai. Main toh bas help kar rahi thi.”

“Help,” Riya ne repeat kiya, aur uske tone mein koi gussa nahi tha, bas thakan thi. “Haan, I know. But every time koi aata hai, ya koi call hoti hai, mujhe lagta hai ki mujhe apni life ko hide karna padega.”

Nandini kuch der chup rahi. Phir woh chair ke edge pe baith gayi, pehli baar bina lecture mode ke. “Tu hide isliye karti hai kyunki tu sochti hai log judge karenge,” she said slowly. “Shayad karenge bhi. Par jo log sirf background dekh ke insaan ka kaam naapte hain, unki soch bhi bahut chhoti hoti hai.”

Riya ne uski taraf dekha, surprised.

Nandini ne ek weak smile di. “Aur sun, shaadi ki tension main baad mein dungi. Abhi pehle tu apna kaam theek se kar.”

Riya ko hansi aa gayi, this time real. “Maa, seriously?”

“Seriously,” Nandini said. “Par haan… room thoda sa arrange kar le. Itna bhi truth nahi dikhana hota.”

Riya ne pehli baar us din genuinely laugh kiya.

Shaam ko Kabir ka direct message aaya: “For the record, your actual room probably looks more real than our brand decks. Also, the plant in your background was suspiciously symmetrical.”

Riya stared at the message for a second, then typed back: “It was fake. Like corporate optimism.”

Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Finally Kabir replied: “Fair. Next call, no judgment. I’ll keep my fake confidence on mute too.”

Riya smiled, and this time she didn’t open the virtual background settings. She moved a few books onto the desk, pushed the laundry basket a little aside, and let the real wall remain visible. It was still messy, still imperfect, but now it looked like a place where someone actually lived and worked and tried.

Next morning, when the team call started, Riya didn’t put on the polished bookshelf background. She just sat in front of her real wall, with one small plant on the side and a mug that said “Work Hard, Nap Harder.” Kabir noticed immediately.

“New setup?” he asked.

Riya took a breath and smiled. “Yeah. More honest. Less Pinterest.”

Kabir grinned. “Much better. Also, this one has character.”

And for the first time in a long while, Riya didn’t feel like she was presenting a performance. She felt like she was simply showing up.

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