The Unsaid Words

Read a series on 1shablog.com a story where the feelings of the heart remain unsaid and unheard.
How many times have you tried to tell someone how much they mean to you, how they became the most important part of your life, or how they leave footprints on your heart, how little moments spent with them is our key highlight of the day. But yet they remain unknown of all this.
A story portraying these unsaid emotions in the series. Here is Part -1

I get past the biometric attendance, rush to my seat, keep my office bag on the desk, and fire up my laptop. I sit and open up my mailbox. It’s cold and I rub my hands, from the office warmth inside. I am going through the emails and my spam is marked in bold. I open the spam box and find all the unread emails from HR there. The latest one is for the dance competition being organized next month.

I just roll off my eyes and delete them all without seeing and I am busy working. My teammate Siddhant who is unusually late and bores me with his songs is right on time today. He greets me and sits beside me firing up his own Desktop. I am engrossed in work listening to him humming some new song. He won the best singer award in the last HR gig, can’t blame him for sounding all day long.

I have my big giant headphones on, and I am working as usual. I feel a finger-tapping over my forearm. I look at my right towards Siddhant looking at me. I remove my headphones, holding them over my neck and I raise my right eyebrow.

“What? What do you want?”

“There is a dance competition next month, would you dance with me.” He asks so hopingly.

“WHAT? Why?” I am surprised, I don’t know how to dance.

“Please” He is requesting me.

“I don’t know how to dance, go find yourself another partner.” I just roll my eyes again and put on my headphones and am working.

I see him moving around the bay, in all of the office trying to make a dance group. He has already had 7 members and I am looking around at the faces, oh, these many people know how to dance, I see Sachet making his own group. There is chaos in the otherwise dull office, people are excited to dance. I remove my headphone and there is a giant meeting going over the tech team bay, oh Tech guys are having a meeting today, and I see one of them making a dance move, certainly not a meeting. Vishakha is making her own team. I look around and see people gathering discussing, and HR guys on the floor announcing the mail.

I see Sugandha coming towards me and I greet her cheerfully.

“Hey are you also dancing?” She asks me leaning over my desk.

“Umm, No, Why? Are you dancing?” I ask reluctantly trying to look busy.

“Yes, we just made our group, everyone wants to dance in our group, be a part of us. Pooja dances so well !” she says happily. I just want her to scurry off.

“Oh yes, Pooja.” Pooja is the heartthrob of our office, all guys drool at her bong looks and some hot dance moves. She is a trained passionate dancer alive.

“Had I known you still have no group, you could have joined us.” She says being sweet, the way she is.

“No, I don’t dance, thanks” I don’t make an eye contact and keep staring at my screen.

“You look busy, let’s talk in the evening.” I wave her off and I am not able to understand, why is everyone indulged in dancing, what’s the deal.

I am thinking and I have another mail from HR. I open the mailbox again, It’s the prized competition with a minimum team size of 8 to 20 people. The first cash prize and second cash prize look, ransom. Oh, this is why!

Days pass by and I see groups practicing over the lunch area, in meeting rooms, in the cafeteria, in the parking lot, outside the building area and wherever they can, OMG the shit is real. I see people dancing and enjoying and for a moment I feel happiness and zeal to live in people in the otherwise boring office. I see people smile whom I have never seen smiling.

I also drop into my casual flavor and I enjoy the atmosphere. This is a first and something unusual. I am working in a less stressed mode today and like always Sugandha stops by, I greet her less eerily. I am back to work again and as usual Siddhant is finger tapping me on my shoulder.

“What?” I am raising my right eyebrow again.

“Please please dance in our group. Sejal has sprained her leg.” He is requesting me.

“No way, I am not going to, I don’t know, I already told you.” I am giving him my serious shrewd eyed looks.

“We are already short of one person. Everyone is ready and we have to send our team names by evening otherwise we won’t stand a chance to participate.” He is looking at me like a big baby. I am rolling my eyes and I am staring at my screen and I see 3 other people at my desk whom I have never seen.

“Please dance, we will have easy steps. You won’t sprain your feet.” A guy says. I look at him and I read his name from the ID card he’s wearing. Abhinav! Oh wow!

“Please please” says Himani. I am just being a target and now its getting hard to say NO.

“Okay, alright, I am in.” I just say looking at their pleading faces. They all are happy, too happy like they have won a lottery and in the mail that evening I read the participants for this crazy dance competition with 5 groups in the war to win this thing.

Team Dazzlers
Pooja Roy
Sugandha Arora
Debjani Mishra
..

Dance Crushers

Abhinav Verma
Siddhant Grewal
One of them is me Ruchika Pathak
… and the team name is Dance Crushers. I laugh immediately I don’t know how to dance and these people surely will be crushing it.

We begin our dance sessions during lunch and in the parking lot after office hours. I meet new faces and get to know few new people. I am being paired with Abhinav. I am excited.

And amongst all the people gathered, for the very first time, I see YOU. I try recalling your name… Agraj..?? No.. !! Agr… Agrim Awasthi.

I look at you, smiling and talking to Siddhant. I look at you from afar standing in the parking lot, being paired with Himani. You look like a nice person. You look at me staring at you and you instantly smile at me. I don’t know what to do. I am caught. I don’t smile back I start looking here and there and I look at the line of bikes across you. I feel sweaty in the cold weather of January.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Author: Onesha

She is the funny one! Has flair for drama, loves to write when happy! You might hate her first story, but maybe you’ll like the next. She is the master of words, but believes actions speak louder than words. 1sha Rastogi, founder of 1shablog.com.

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