The hum of the office buzzed like background noise in Arjun's ears as he returned to his desk. His movements were deliberate, but his mind raced—a storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.
"Everything okay?" a colleague asked, noticing his unusual quietness.
Arjun forced a small smile. "Just a call from family. Took a bit longer than expected."
Nothing more was said. He immersed himself in his work, pretending the day was like any other. As the evening rolled in, one by one, his teammates left, bidding him casual goodbyes. Arjun packed his belongings neatly, shoulders heavy with an invisible weight, and stepped out into the night.
Two days passed in the same rhythm, mundane on the surface, yet fraught with quiet anticipation. Thursday came, and as sunlight poured through the office windows, Arjun entered—this time bypassing his desk entirely.
He headed straight to the HR office.
"Arjun, come in," the HR manager said, shuffling some papers. "Here's your new contract. Congratulations on completing your binding period. You're now free to stay as long as you wish under this agreement."
Arjun studied the document without picking it up. "What's the notice period under this new contract?"
"It'll be three months instead of one."
"And my remaining leaves?"
"You have 24 vacation days and six paid leave days left."
Arjun nodded, his expression unreadable. "I'm resigning. Effective immediately. Please apply all my leaves, and I'll return my equipment by this evening."
The HR manager blinked in surprise. "Arjun, are you sure? You've just been awarded Employee of the Year."
Arjun's lips curved into a bitter smile. "Funny how that doesn't seem to count for much."
"What about your hike? Haven't you discussed it with your team leader and manager?"
"I did. They think 5% is sufficient for someone with 'lacking skills.' So, no, I'm not interested in discussing it further. Let's finalize the paperwork, and I'll be out of your way."
When Arjun returned to his desk, the news of his resignation had already spread like wildfire.
"Arjun, you resigned?" a colleague asked, stunned.
He shrugged. "Yeah. Today's my last day."
"What about your hike?"
"Let me guess—15%, 10%, maybe 5% for some of you?" Arjun's voice carried a sharp edge. "I've been here three years. Every appraisal, I've been stuck with 5%. Even this year, after being named Employee of the Year, it's the same story. And my 'skills aren't up to the mark,' apparently."
A hush fell over the group. No one had an answer.
Arjun exhaled deeply. "Anyway, lunch is on me today. Consider it my farewell treat."
Arjun was called to the meeting room. He knocked before entering, finding his manager and team lead waiting.
"Arjun, we heard from HR," the team lead began. "You've resigned?"
"Yes," Arjun replied simply.
"Why? You know the importance of the current project. The client expects us to deliver ahead of schedule."
Arjun leaned back in his chair. "And?"
"You're the backbone of the backend and database. Without you, the project will be delayed. We need you."
Arjun's gaze was steady. "Funny. Just last month, in the appraisal meeting, you both said my skills weren't up to par. Why would you need someone so inadequate?"
The manager shifted uncomfortably. "Look, we can discuss your hike—"
"It's not about the hike anymore," Arjun interrupted. "I've already made my decision."
"But the project—"
"I've taken care of it." Arjun's voice was calm, but his words carried weight. "I've revamped the backend and database entirely, integrated new ideas, and documented everything. I've even handed over the front-end designs to a colleague. Anyone stepping into my role will have a roadmap. It'll only take them... four months to understand."
The room fell silent. The team lead's face paled. "Four months?"
Arjun smirked. "Oh, and I've already sent the updated proposal to the client. I included your names, of course, since you're always eager to take credit for my ideas."
"check your mails, we got the approval also"
Immediately they checked the inbox and find the approval.
The manager and team lead exchanged panicked glances.
"Arjun," the manager tried again, "at least take back your resignation. We need you."
Arjun leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "Let me tell you a story."
"After I finished my internship, there was a gap of about a month and a half before I joined this company. During that time, I worked as a delivery rider, offering bike services to earn some extra money. One day, a girl booked a ride. The whole time, she was on the phone with her boyfriend, talking about movies, shopping, and how much she disliked certain things.
"At first, I ignored it. But the way she talked—entitled, dismissive—got under my skin. So, I sped up, hit a small bump, and made the bike jump just enough for her Bluetooth earphones to fall out. I stopped the bike and told her, 'You can go search for it.' She was furious. The Bluetooth had been a birthday gift from her boyfriend.
"If she had been talking to her parents or just enjoying music, I wouldn't have done it. But her words, her tone—they pissed me off. So, I made a split-second decision. That's who I am. I don't tolerate being treated like I'm invisible or insignificant."
Arjun leaned back in his chair, meeting their eyes. "That's my character. I've tolerated this job for three years only because of the binding contract. If I had been free, I'd have left in six months. You've taken credit for my ideas, treated me like a tool, and insulted my skills at every turn.
"I'll remind you: the last two successful projects? The ideas were mine, but who got the recognition? You, team lead. You presented my backend designs as your own. And you, manager, told the client the strategic database upgrades were your brainchild. I stayed silent because I was bound by that contract.
"Well, now I'm free. I've already made sure the project is covered, though it'll take months for anyone to step into my role. And before you even think about withholding my experience letter, remember this—I've copied higher management on all documentation and emails. There's nothing you can do to stop me."
Arjun stood, a satisfied smile on his face. "Oh, and about the 'surprise' I mentioned earlier? Consider it delivered. Good luck rebuilding the mess I created."
As he walked out, the manager and team lead sat frozen, their faces pale. One muttered, "We underestimated him."
The other replied, "We used him."