Drama Queen Diaries

So, picture this: me, freshly dropped into office life — new to the world, but carrying the same old thoughts. Basically, my brain was still in “school group project” mode, but my body was stuck in a cubicle.

My only survival kit? A boy — my cousin’s close friend, practically a younger brother. He was my Google Translate for office culture. If HR said “circle back,” he told me that meant “do the same thing again, but with more Excel.”

And then — tragedy. My brother-in-arms was suddenly removed from his position. (I swear I heard background violins when it happened.) His replacement? A guy much older… whose reputation was basically a mixed bag. Sometimes people praised him, sometimes people cursed him — like he was the Coriander of the office: some loved him, most didn’t.

But for me? He instantly became Public Enemy No. 1. Why? Because he was stealing my brother’s chair. And the day he walked into the office, three thoughts hit me:

1.

Ignore him. Pretend he doesn’t exist.

2.

Wait, is this the same guy everyone’s been gossiping about?

3.

Oh no… is he harassing me? (Spoiler alert: he wasn’t. But my inner drama queen was wide awake that day.)

Basically, this poor man hadn’t even said “hello” and I had already made him the villain of my entire office saga.

So there I was, still glaring at this new guy like he’d stolen not just my brother’s position but also my lunchbox in kindergarten. And genius me — yes, Einstein of assumptions — decided to escalate things.

I marched up to my owner’s sister, full-on Sherlock Holmes mode, and said: “Listen… I don’t like this guy. He’s acting all weird around me.”

And boom — that was it. I thought I was about to be applauded for my bravery. Maybe even a standing ovation. But no. Instead, I unlocked Lecture Mode 3000.

She sat me down, and for the next two hours, she gave me a TED Talk titled “Why This Guy is Actually a Sweetheart.” Two. Hours. Non-stop. By the end of it, I knew more about his childhood, favorite snacks, and personality traits than I knew about my own blood group.

And there I was, just nodding along like: “Yep… sweet guy… angel… saint… absolutely. Still the villain in my dictionary though.”

Fast forward — my brother came back the very same day (plot twist nobody asked for). But did that calm my storm? Nope. Because according to my highly scientific, PhD-certified assumptions, this new guy was still guilty until proven innocent.

Every time he walked through the main office door, I swear I could hear his background soundtrack: “Tum tou yeh kar sakti ho… yeh tou bohat aasan hai beta… aray, tum se hi yeh ho jaega!”

Like excuse me, sir. I didn’t ask for motivational quotes from Budget Tony Robbins. I asked, “How do I deal with the client?” And he’d just smile and say, “Tum kr logi.”

Okay man, listen — I know I can do it. That’s not the problem. The problem is: HOW? Give me the secret formula, not a pep talk!

So basically, every interaction with him turned into a one-sided roast session in my head. Him: “You can do it.” Me: “Okay but can you at least tell me how to print the invoice without breaking the printer?”

And then — again — my brother-like character vanished from the office scene. (At this point, I felt like HR was just playing musical chairs with my emotions.)

So, guess who became the center of attention? Yep. Me. The chosen one. And not for something good — oh no, this was pure revenge energy. Because I had a big mouth and always spoke up for him, the office politics squad had their magnifying glass on me.

And just when I thought I was doomed, just when I was ready to write my resignation letter in Shakespearean English… enter the villain.

Yes. That same villainous guy. The coriander of the office. The one whose motivational speeches had me rolling my eyes. He stood up for me.

Like—hold on—what? Excuse me, sir, you’re supposed to be the enemy. You’re supposed to be the “Darth Vader” in my story, not the “Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

But there he was, defending me. And suddenly, everything flipped. His character arc did a full 180. Now, that two-hour TED Talk I had suffered earlier? Yeah… that started to feel less like torture and more like the only light in the dark.

Basically, life had pulled the most dramatic Bollywood twist on me.

This was also the time I pulled off the impossible: I boomed my sales target. (Yes, me. The rookie who still needed Google Maps to find the stapler.) Of course, the credit went straight to my brother-like mentor — because duh, he trained me.

But HR? Oh no. HR had their own plot twist: “It’s all because of the new TL.” And who was the new TL? None other than my brother’s friend. Yeah, not the villain. Turns out, my dictionary of office enemies needed a quick update.

Meanwhile, the actual villain in my head — the coriander guy — was quietly observing me. And suddenly, he cracked the code: “This girl isn’t arrogant… she’s just a sweet little thing with a pure heart.”

And then came the shocker: he started appreciating me. Not just in person, but behind my back too. Like, imagine walking into the office and hearing people say, “That girl’s really good — the villain said so.” Excuse me, sir, aren’t you the one I mentally roasted every day?

But wait, the man had superpowers. I’d give him a PDF for an artwork, and boom — within 24 hours, my sketch was ready. One day turnaround. Faster than Swiggy. No wonder suddenly I was back in the spotlight, but this time not because of my brother figure — because of this so-called villain.

And slowly, painfully slowly, my dictionary betrayed me again.

From “harasser” in my overthinking mind → to office villain → to unexpected cheerleader → to elder brother figure.

Basically, he went from Voldemort to Bhai in one season. What a plot twist.

But of course, my office life wasn’t done with me yet. Oh no. Apparently, the universe had subscribed me to the “Center of Attention – Premium Package.” No matter what I did, all eyes found their way to me.

And then it happened. The incident that flipped everything.

One day, out of nowhere, a girl in the office turned over my hijab — right there, in front of two boys. (To this day, I don’t know if they actually saw my face or not. Honestly, I’m praying their eyesight took a coffee break at that exact second.)

But in that moment, everything froze.

Now here’s the thing: he wasn’t even there. The “villain” wasn’t in the room at all. Later, I told him about it over message — just casually, like “hey, this happened.”

And his reply? Pure anger. He asked me straight up: “Do you want me to talk about this or not?”

That moment hit different. Respect? Earned. Instantly. But trust? Mmm… not yet. Respect was sitting at the front row, clapping for him. Trust was still standing outside the hall, arms crossed, saying: “We’ll think about it.”

So yeah, the chair turned around for him — but only halfway.

But the story didn’t end there. Because one fine day, my brother-like figure — the original support system, the OG — dropped a truth bomb on me.

He told me how this so-called villain, the guy I had once crowned as “Most Hated in My Dictionary,” had actually kept his secrets safe. Not only that — he had fought for him too. Behind the scenes. Quietly.

And that was it. That’s when trust officially entered the chat. Respect had already been sitting comfortably with popcorn, waiting. And now trust came strolling in like, “Okay fine, I guess he’s one of us.”

The villain? He wasn’t a villain anymore. He was… well… family.

From “Is he harassing me?” → to “Most hated” → to “Budget Tony Robbins with bad advice” → to “Fastest sketch deliverer alive” → to “Brother figure.”

Yep. My office life had pulled the ultimate plot twist.

So yeah… at the end of all the drama, the assumptions, the mental eye-rolls, the TED Talks, and the “Tum kr logi” motivational speeches… I realized something.

This so-called villain? He wasn’t a villain at all. He was the brother I had always wanted in my life. An elder one. The kind who’ll scold me when I mess up, roast me for fun, give me advice I didn’t even ask for — and still have my back when the world feels too heavy.

The OG. SAK

But did the drama stop there? Nah bro. Not even close.

My brother-like figure had returned — but this time, not in the morning shift. Nope. Both of us had left that behind, and we were stuck together in the evening shift. The land of tired faces, late-night yawns, and random office gossip that felt ten times louder after 6 p.m.

Still, having him back beside me gave the evenings some sanity. We could laugh off the chaos, survive the workload with a cup of coffee, and basically drag each other through the toxic bits like partners in crime.

Meanwhile, the one who had gone from “villain” to “BHAI” was far away, sitting in Saudia. Long time, no see. And then suddenly — boom — he came back. After ages. Like the elder brother reappearing out of nowhere in the middle of a family drama, making the story feel complete again.

And for me, that was the real full circle.

And then, finally, after ages — he came back from Saudia. The man, the myth, the ex-villain turned OG elder brother.

I was excited, nervous, maybe even a little dramatic about the reunion. So when the office door knocked, I rushed to open it, ready for this cinematic “long time, no see” moment.

And guess what? I didn’t even recognize him.

Standing there was this full-boiled egg of a man, with a freshly shaved head, smiling like nothing had changed. I literally paused, blinked twice, and thought: “Who is this omelette? Where’s that Don?”

But nope — it was him. The villain who became the brother I never knew I needed. From coriander of the office biryani → to full-boiled egg. What a journey.

So yeah, there he was — standing at the door, freshly shaved, looking like a full-boiled egg. And me? I just stood there confused like, “Who dis?”

When it finally hit me that it was the OG elder brother, he laughed — obviously, because who forgets their own “office brother” after a glow-down haircut?

And amazing me, instead of saying anything, instead of greeting him properly like a normal human being… just walked out of the office. Yep. Straight up left. No hi, no hello, nothing.

Then later that night, I was yapping away on text like a parrot: “Oh my God, you came back, I didn’t recognize you, blah blah blah…” Basically, in person I was mute, but on messages I turned into a full-on podcast. Classic me.

Just when I thought my office drama was wrapping up, life hit me with another plot twist.

I left the office. Yep — resignation letter dropped, all thanks to a fresh round of office politics. And guess what? The villain-turned-brother, the same guy I once swore I’d never even look at, decided to hire me.

Not as just-anybody, oh no. He hired me as a freelance worker, to manage a whole mini-team. Two girls who had resigned with me were now my responsibility. Basically, I went from “confused rookie” to “unofficial team lead with trust issues.”

And, of course, me being me — I was suspicious. Habitually suspicious. My inner Sherlock Holmes was wide awake, scanning every move like: “Why’s he trusting me with this? What’s the catch?”

But I took it on. I tried to manage things for good. Put in the effort, gave the pep talks, did the planning. Only… not everything goes the way you plan, right? Because life — and especially office life — always has rewrites of its own.

So there I was, sitting at home, now a freelance team manager. Sounds cool on paper, right? In reality? A total failure.

My two teammates were waiting for leadership, the villain-turned-brother was waiting for results, and me? I was busy… with something else.

Because — surprise, surprise — I was in the middle of the launch of my very first book. Yep. My book. Only plot twist: I had co-authored it secretly. My name wasn’t even disclosed, thanks to my parents’ orders. So, while the world saw someone else’s name, I was silently screaming, “That’s my work!”

Between the hush-hush book launch and my bad habit of overestimating myself, I totally forgot to do the freelance work I thought I’d manage excellently. Turns out, multitasking between being a “hidden author” and a “remote team lead” was… not my strongest skill.

Basically, the DON trusted me with a team, and I responded by ghosting them in the name of literature.

But of course, my freelance adventure wasn’t just about me forgetting deadlines. Nope. The girls I was supposed to manage? They weren’t exactly office rockstars either. Let’s just say… “not good” is the polite version.

And then, as if the universe wanted more masala in my story, my two brother figures — my OG brother-like figure and the DON — started having problems.

Me, stuck right in the middle. Again. The center of attention. Only this time, it wasn’t flattering at all — it was pure negativity.

Both of them started ordering me around like rival mafia bosses:

•

My brother-like figure: “Don’t talk about or to HIM.”

•

The DON: “That guy will eventually hurt you. Stay away.”

And me? Just sitting there like a confused kid in the middle of a divorce, wondering if I should pack my bags and run away.

Eventually, what the DON warned me about did happen — though not right away. The “hurt” came later. But in that moment, all I knew was that being the “sisterly figure” for both of them meant being the punching bag for office politics 2.0.

Meanwhile — because my multitasker brain never lets me sit still — I decided to take on another challenge: writing the thesis of the DON and his friend.

Yep. My brain whispered, “You can do it all by yourself.” And I, stubborn as always, said, “Sure, why not?” Of course, he supported me through it, but the heavy lifting? That was me.

Then came Ramadan. And stubborn-me forgot one small detail: my health. I pushed myself, writing, researching, fixing drafts, until I was running on zero energy and maximum juice

And because I clearly wasn’t juggling enough, on the other hand, I was also stepping into a whole new chapter: starting my own goddamn office with my cousin and his buddy — yep, the same brotherly figure.

And not just as a sidekick — I was a partner. (Till then. Now? Not anymore. Story for another time.)

Back then though, I was in full boss mode — planning, pulling in investment, figuring out hirings. Basically trying to build Rome while also writing a thesis during Ramadan and ignoring the fact that I was slowly killing myself with overwork.

And just when I thought my multitasking couldn’t get any crazier, life threw in the final showdown.

Out of nowhere, my brother-like figure decided to play commander: “You are not going to talk to HIM anymore.” And me? Nah bruh. Absolutely not. I wasn’t about to drop people from my life just because someone ordered me to. I’m stubborn like that.

But the plot thickened. Because right then, the DON himself pulled a stunt. Out of the blue, he told me I hadn’t done his and his friend’s thesis properly.

Excuse me? After all those sleepless nights in Ramadan? After pouring my soul into Word docs like a caffeinated ghostwriter?

And as if that wasn’t enough, he added: “You’ll have to write both theses all over again.”

Meanwhile:

•

My final university exams were creeping closer, ready to eat me alive.

•

My business with my cousin and brotherly buddy was in its baby stages, demanding investment and hirings.

•

My sanity? Already long gone.

Basically, it was me vs. everything, with betrayal from both sides and a ticking clock over my head.

And that’s when it all exploded.

Because excuse me — how the hell do you question my hard work? I had poured my health, my sleep, my energy, and half my sanity into those theses. I wasn’t just typing; I was bleeding on those pages.

So yeah, I fought with the DON. Hard.

I told him straight up: if he had said it with love, if he had even used one soft word, if he had just been the OG elder brother I respected instead of acting like a professor on steroids — I would’ve written it again. Not once. Not twice. But thrice.

Because for me, it was never about the work. It was about the way he made me feel while asking for it. Respect was already in the room. Trust had finally entered the chat. But love — that’s what could’ve made me move mountains.

And then came the moment of decision.

I told myself: “That’s it. I’m not talking to him again.” Not out of hate, not out of rage — just out of self-respect. Because some lines, once crossed, can’t be uncrossed.

But here’s the thing: the respect for him? That never left. It stayed there, like an elder brother’s shadow. No matter what happened, no matter how hard we fought, I knew I still owed him something.

So yes — I’d definitely give him the right work. I’d finish what I started. Because if nothing else, I wanted him to know that my dedication, my stubborn loyalty, my endless late-night typing marathons… they were all real.

It was never about leaving the work undone. It was about closing the chapter on my terms.

And of course — because my life is basically a Netflix series — the brother-like figure knew everything that was going on.

So what did he do? He taunted me. “Didn’t I tell you not to talk to HIM? See what happened now?”

And boom. That was it. I exploded. Not for myself this time, but for The Don. Like — no dude. My problems with him are mine. I can fight with him, I can argue with him, I can even stop talking to him. But no one — no one — gets to disrespect my decision or talk crap about him in front of me.

That was my line.

But… in the smallest of moments after that fight, something shifted. My anger cooled, but so did the bond. Respect that was once at 1000 quietly dropped down to 50. Not gone, not erased — just… smaller. Dimmer.

It was like the perfect storm had finally passed, leaving wreckage behind.

And then came the stupidest saga I could have pulled — I went and discussed everything that had happened between me and The OG elder brother right in front of my brother-like figure. Basically, I turned the DON into the criminal of the story without even meaning to.

On his constant taunting, my frustration slipped, and I ended up disrespecting THE DON. Not intentionally — never intentionally — but it happened. And honestly? What shook me wasn’t the words, it was the feeling. How could he even question my loyalty, my hard work, when he knew I don’t hold grudges? That cut deeper than anything.

And that… that was the final straw.

That’s when I decided: I’m not telling him about my setup anymore. He doesn’t get access to that part of me. Because when someone you respect looks at you and says, “Opening your own office is not your cup of tea. First do my work, then think of your own” — nah, bruh.

Did you just underestimate me? Did you really just put me in a box I’ve been breaking out of my whole life?

That was the moment the story turned from “me juggling loyalties” to “me choosing myself.”

With time passing by, the only contact I had with THE DON was about one thing: my payment. And of course, even that had to turn into a fight. Words were exchanged,

tempers flared, and for the first time ever, I started seeing him as a bigger culprit than I ever wanted to.

But then… plot twist.

Out of nowhere, the day THE DON had predicted all along finally came true. The day my so-called brother-like figure — the one I had defended, fought for, and respected like family — ended up being the one to hurt me.

And in that moment, the entire saga came full circle. The villain I once hated had turned into a brother. The brother I once trusted turned into the one who cut the deepest. And me? I stood there in the wreckage, realizing that maybe, just maybe, the elder brother’s words hadn’t been warnings… they’d been prophecy.

And this was the moment I decided: enough guessing, enough assumptions. I needed to check if The DON was really sincere with me or not.

(Oh, and yes — I had already confessed to him earlier that once upon a time, I thought of him as a harasser. Talk about awkward honesty. )

So I turned to him with something simple but important: “Can you arrange an affordable artist for me?”

And his answer was just one word: Yes.

But the real proof? The work. Suddenly, those artworks that used to take weeks with other artists started landing on my desk within 24 hours. Just like that.

Meanwhile, money was still my biggest headache. I was running everything alone this time — no office, no team, just me at home trying to juggle it all. And guess who was shocked? Yep. The same person who once underestimated me, who had said opening my own office wasn’t my cup of tea. He was suddenly surprised that I was managing it all by myself.

Turns out, underestimation can be the best motivation.

And this time… he passed.

He didn’t bring up the past — not once. He didn’t poke old wounds, didn’t throw “I told you so” in my face, didn’t taunt me about his prediction coming true. He just… stood there. Silent, supportive.

And for me, that silence meant everything. Because the past? It still hurts me to the core. But the fact that he chose not to reopen it — that was proof enough.

This time, he wasn’t the villain, or the misunderstood elder brother, or the boiled egg from Saudia. He was simply support.

And hopefully… neither of us will be ditching each other this time.

And then — just when I thought the story was finally settling down — came the surprise: The DON is opening his own office.

Meanwhile, the brother-like figure? Gone from the frame. Vanished like a side character who’d outlived his script.

And me? I’m ready to help. Because here’s the thing — if I could set up an office for someone who eventually disgraced me after his things were all sorted, then why wouldn’t I stand beside the person who once said to me, “Koi baat nahi, mainay tumharay saray roop dekh liye. Aur behan-bhayon main aisi laraiyan hoti rehti hain.”

That line stuck. Because it wasn’t about erasing the fights, or pretending they didn’t hurt. It was about acknowledging them, and still choosing respect, still choosing family.

So yes — even if I’m still a little confused deep down, I’m ready to give him whatever support I possibly can. Because maybe that’s what this whole saga was really about — not villains, not heroes, not betrayals, not politics. But learning who’s still standing with you when the dust finally settles.

And here I am now — sitting, writing.

About the funny, dramatic, and so-called villainous character who once fought with me… who I once accused (wrongly, sorry SAK ) of harassing me… and who, in the end, gave me more support and favours than I could’ve imagined.

From villain to brother, from suspicion to sincerity, from fights to favours — it’s been a saga, one I never thought I’d live through, let alone laugh about while writing.

So here’s to you, SAK, The OG DON and a Elder Brother. For surviving all my versions of you — hated villain, misunderstood elder, unexpected support. And for still being here, on the page, as the person I’m finally ready to call a brother.

I guess a harasser isn’t always a harasser. Sometimes… it’s just your assumption.

And when that assumption turns out to be wrong in this way — when the so-called villain you hated ends up being the brother you needed — believe me, it’s nothing less than a blessing.

So yeah — at the end of this rollercoaster, one thing’s clear: He’s proven not guilty. Innocent, obviously.

A boiled egg? Always.

A good brother? Definitely.

And maybe that’s the biggest twist of all — the villain I once hated turned out to be one of the safest people I could trust.

But let’s be real: if this trust ever breaks… that egg is definitely going to face the consequences from this drama queen ^^

And last but not least — let’s be honest — he’s obviously going to taunt me for not accepting him as a sincere brother earlier.

But you know me. With my stubbornness, it’ll probably happen again. Someday, when I’m in one of my “not trusting” moods, I’ll end up testing him all over again.

Because that’s who I am — dramatic, loyal, suspicious, stubborn… and maybe just a little too funny for my own good.