A headset, a mic and a love story


“Sid,” she called out, gently fiddling with the wires of the headphone with mic. I looked up from the training that I was meant to complete and stared like a helpless puppy, into the abyss of her big, black eyes, and flashed her a coy smile. She bit her lower lip, as if unsure what to say next. I nodded my head gently, as if to coax her to go on. I had been trying to get her attention for days now, and despite being the new girl on the team, Dipali had been largely dismissive of my presence, even ignoring my good-natured humour and comments.

I slowly rolled my chair closer towards hers and placed my hand on the armrest of her seat. With a shy smile, she removed her headphones and slid them down to her neck, where they nestled comfortably against her peach-complexioned skin.

“Tell me, ” I said, nudging her to continue the conversation. I was not about to let this moment pass without hearing what she had to say. After all, I had been trying to get her to talk to me all these past days. She cleared her throat and glanced towards her screen, where details of some random client had suddenly popped up. I continued to look at her, my eyes twinkling with the excitement of finally breaking the ice and hoping that the conversation would lead somewhere.

“Sid...” she said again, this time with a smile that made me flash a 100-watt grin. She looked into my eyes and slowly uttered, “..the client wants to speak to a manager."


If you're wondering how that conversation went, needless to say, after I heard an earful from that client, I was in no mood to pursue any further conversation with Dipali, no matter how lovely she was.

Days soon turned into weeks, and I avoided her like the plague. Which proved to be a difficult task, since I was the Technical Escalation lead for my team. This meant that I was the go-to person when neither first nor second level technical support could resolve the issue. Which also meant that I was the person who handled most escalation cases.

Nevertheless, I decided that I wouldn’t pay any attention to her apart from when required to professionally. However, one of my friends, who knew about my ‘crush’, urged me be more proactive and grab the 'bull by the horns', so to speak. Now, I’m not sure if it was raging hormones or just the stupidity of the age (very early twenties), but I decided that I would proactively help the gorgeous Dipali with future escalations, even before she asked for it.

So when I walked in after dinner one day and saw her visibly stressed on a call, I strutted over and gestured for her to hand over the headset.  Now, in an ideal scenario I should have asked her about the call and tried to understand the problem before speaking to the customer. But, as I said, I was blinded by this whole ideology of ‘trying to be the alpha male’  (which was the stupidest move that I’ve ever made), and just jumped right in.

She tried to say something, but I dismissed her with a wave of my hand. After spending ten unsuccessful minutes, trying to calm the client down, I was overcome by the urge to shout out. The client just wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say.

So I decided to do what most people did in such scenarios. I took a deep breath and pushed down the mute button on the headset.  And then I swore. (Hey, don’t judge. I’m not proud of that.)

A few seconds later, after my verbal assault was over,  Dipali leaned over and lightly tapped my hand. Her gentle touch was enough to calm me down. I took a deep breath, inadvertently inhaling some of her intoxicating perfume and grinned. As the anger suddenly paved way to calmness, I noticed her gesturing fervently. I held my palm up, as if to indicate that I had it all under control. Ignoring me, she pressed the HOLD button on the phone. I took off the headset and looked at her with a confused look on my face.

“Sid..” she said, her melodious voice offering a pleasant contrast to the gruff yelling that I’ve just been subjected to by the client. I felt my heart skip a beat or two. If this was a Bollywood movie, this would be the point where I slowly closed my eyes and grinned happily. But since it wasn't, I merely closed and reopened them.

Soft wisps of that pale chocolate-coloured hair swept past an ear and caressed the skin of her neck, jaw, cheeks and around her rather beautiful, deep eyes. They twinkled in amusement as if she knew something I did not.

As I gazed loving into her eyes, she continued, “….the Mute button doesn’t work."

P.S. This is a sponsored post, but views are mine.

P.P.S. This post and the characters are fictitious. Or is it? :)

Image courtesy : MorgueFiles.com