Compulsive

 

Yesterday :

He walked into his Team Lead’s cubicle.

“Moorthy, did you get a chance to look at the portfolio deck?”

Moorthy looked back at Vicky with a face drooping with sleep and nonchalance. His coffee was hot and Vicky knew the coffee on Moorthy’s table had no purpose at all.  The nonchalance alone was rehearsed many times when he was new to this position of Team Lead. Saracasm, lame jokes and nonchalance became the essential virtues for Moorthy.

Vicky had absolutely no respect whatsoever for this sad excuse of a Lead. And at times, he had expressed his derision so obvious that the other team members even felt sorry for Moorthy. Vicky was like that. He didn’t respect anyone who just sat there and did nothing to contribute other than slapping a stupid comment on any good work the team did.

“Vicky. This deck… Looks so colorful and flashy.. what do they call it.. ‘funky’? .. we cannot take this to the SM.. ”

“Moorthy .. SM liked my  deck last time…” He just pointed at Moorthy’s laptop and  turned back to leave the cubicle. No other words.

This was not new to him or anyone in the team. The others would open the deck and explain each slide and the reason for the design, animation and image. But Vicky wouldn’t.

The next day when the SM was at office, Moorthy presented the new Portfolio estimate and report. Except the header and footer images, the deck was Vicky’s.

Vicky had a cup of coffee in his hand. Hot and foaming.

When the presentation was over, the Senior Manager appreciated the content and the whole theme in it. He said he liked the GIFs too. Moorthy was beaming with pride and told him that it was prepared mostly by himself and Vicky made some ‘slight’ modifications.

The coffee was still hot.

Today :

Vicky stood there in front of the mirror with the cup of coffee, fresh and foaming. He was all dressed up and was ready to start to office. But this had to be done.  His reflection stared back with the same contempt but only with a little more intensity. The breathing became heavier and he started to feel the heat in his cheeks and forehead. The anger was taking a different form now picking up all necessary reasons to fuel the flame. When he knew that he was furious enough, he threw the coffee at his reflection on the mirror.

He let this feel sink inside and smiled back the distorted reflection.

 

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