The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement as our company celebrated the festive time of Pongal. The HR department had organized numerous employee engagement activities, and everyone was dressed in vibrant colors to match the joyful mood. I couldn't help but notice how stunning all the female staff looked in their traditional attire - from vibrant sarees to half sarees and ghagra cholis. Even the men were not left behind, dressed in their elegant Kurtha pajamas. As for me, my name is Vishnu, a 27-year-old testing engineer working in a multinational corporation in Chennai. Our team consisted of 5 talented women and 1 male employee, with Vinu madam as our team leader.

Excitement filled the air as our team eagerly prepared to participate in the Rangoli competition. My female colleagues and I were brainstorming furiously, struggling to decide on the perfect design. As Pongal was approaching, I suggested we incorporate a traditional Pongal theme into our Rangoli, rather than opting for a regular design. My idea was met with playful teasing, but I took it upon myself to bring my vision to life.

Amidst cheers and applause from my team, I began meticulously creating our Rangoli. Every intricate detail was carefully placed as I poured my heart into the beautiful design. Completely focused on winning the competition, I didn't even notice my colleagues surrounding me, watching my every move. Little did I know, they were snapping photos of me instead of the Rangoli itself.

After what felt like hours of hard work, our Rangoli was finally complete and it looked stunning. With beaming smiles and proud faces, our team stood next to our masterpiece as we took countless pictures together. And when the results were announced, our efforts paid off as we proudly took home the first prize.

The circular from our office chat bot blared in my ears, demanding that we gear up for the upcoming Annual Day celebrations. As Vinu mam addressed us during our daily standup meeting, her voice dripped with excitement and anticipation. "Girls, are you ready for the Euphoria 2024? Everyone answered with a resounding yes, but I stayed silent.

Vinu madam's keen eyes caught my hesitation and she called me out. "Are you ready?" My heart raced as I struggled to answer. With a deep breath, I finally managed to stutter out a weak yes.

As we left the meeting room, my friend Radha leaned in close and asked if I was ready. Ready for what? I thought, but before I could ask, she continued, "You were born ready, right?" Her tone was mocking and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

But I couldn't let her see me falter. "Of course," I replied boldly. "Why would I need confirmation?"

Radha's expression turned sly as she asked if I knew what they had planned for the celebration. Without missing a beat, I declared that I could do anything.

But behind my bravado lay a gnawing uncertainty. What had they planned? Why did Vinu madam call me Vaishnavi? Was this some sort of test or joke?

As if sensing my distress, Vinu madam appeared behind me and patted me on the back. "Are you all geared up for this Annual Day, Vaishnavi?" Confusion and fear swirled inside me as I tried to understand who this Vaishnavi was supposed to be. But through it all, I pasted on a smile and nodded confidently, trying to hide the turmoil raging within me.

The atmosphere in the office was buzzing with excitement as we gathered to plan for our upcoming celebrations. As I walked into the meeting room, I was hit with a burst of colors and energy - the theme was announced: a vibrant rainbow theme. We were tasked with putting together a three language song mashup, with representatives from each of our offices in Delhi, Chennai, and Hyderabad. The stakes were high - the best performers would have the chance to showcase their talents at all three locations and win a cash prize of 5 lakhs. The team was already deep in discussion, feverishly exchanging ideas for song selections and costumes. But amid all the chatter, I couldn't help but feel left out. "Hey girls," I interrupted, trying not to let my disappointment show, "what about me?"

P.S: This is purely a fictional and my own story.. Do not repost this story without my consent.