Reeta had always been a hard worker. Fresh out of college, she joined a big corporate firm in Mumbai, dreaming of success. But no matter how much effort she put in, her colleagues never seemed to respect her. They gossiped, ignored her ideas in meetings, and took credit for her hard work. At first, Reeta tried to stay calm and let things slide. But the frustration built up inside her, day by day, like a fire she couldn’t control.
One day, it all exploded.
Reeta had spent weeks working on a presentation, giving up weekends and late nights. But during the meeting, her colleague Somnath interrupted her halfway through, twisting her points to make himself look better. Reeta snapped.
“That’s not your idea, Somnath! You didn’t even work on this!” she yelled, her voice sharp enough to cut through the silent room.
Everyone froze. Reeta had never raised her voice at work before. But to her surprise, the manager nodded. “Reeta’s right. Let her finish.” The rush of anger had worked, and for the first time, people listened to her. It felt… powerful.
From then on, Reeta used her anger as fuel. She became known as someone who wouldn’t tolerate nonsense. Each time someone tried to undermine her, she shot back with fierce words, and slowly, people stopped taking advantage of her. She climbed the corporate ladder, earning promotions and praise. But as her temper flared, the atmosphere around her turned toxic. Colleagues avoided her in the break room, meetings grew tense, and even her friends began distancing themselves.
Her anger started controlling her, popping up at the smallest things. She once threw a file at an intern for a typo, leaving him shaking with tears in his eyes. Another time, she slammed her fist on her desk so hard that she fractured a finger. Her outbursts left a trail of fear and broken relationships at work.
Her health also took a hit. Reeta’s stomach churned constantly, her head pounded with stress, and her hands trembled after every outburst. She popped painkillers and antacids like candy, but nothing eased the growing knot in her chest. Yet, she couldn’t stop. She needed that adrenaline rush, that momentary high from releasing all her bottled-up frustration.
At home, things were no better. Her parents had grown distant, tired of her constant mood swings. “You’ve changed, Reeta,” her mother said once, with sadness in her eyes. “You’re always so angry now. Can’t you just relax?”
But Reeta brushed it off. “I’m just focused on my career, Ma. It’s a tough world out there.” She convinced herself that her anger was her strength, the secret weapon that was pushing her forward.
Years passed, and Reeta had everything she once dreamed of—a big salary, a senior position, her own apartment in the city. But as the work pressures grew, so did her reliance on anger. She lashed out at colleagues, isolated herself from friends, and even started avoiding family gatherings. Her temper now controlled every part of her life.
One evening, after another exhausting day, she sat alone in her apartment, staring at the awards and certificates on her walls. Her reflection in the mirror looked tired, older than her years. Dark circles, tense jaws, eyes filled with bitterness. She had worked so hard, fought so many battles. But all she felt was emptiness.
Her phone buzzed. A message from an old friend popped up. “Hey, Reeta! It’s been a long time. Let’s catch up soon?”
Reeta stared at the screen, but instead of replying, she put the phone down. The truth hit her hard—she had lost touch with almost everyone who had once been close to her. Friends, family, colleagues… they had all slipped away. She had been so focused on fighting, so consumed by her anger, that she never saw the damage it was doing.
And then it struck her—this wasn’t the world’s fault. It was hers. She had let her anger become her identity, using it to feel powerful and in control. But all it had done was push people away, leaving her with nothing but her hollow victories.
Her success felt empty because she had been fighting the wrong battle all along. Instead of battling the world, she should have fought the anger that had consumed her.
For the first time in years, Reeta let the tears fall.