Eternal Ephemerals

Confidence

Kavya leaned against the wall, watching the room hum with energy. Laughter echoed through the air, the clinking of glasses punctuating the conversations that seemed to flow so easily between her colleagues. It was another company celebration—something to mark the end of a successful quarter—and yet, despite the buzz of excitement, Kavya found herself, as usual, on the outskirts. Observing.

She didn't mind, though. This was her comfort zone. She preferred to stay on the edges, where she could take everything in without having to force herself into the center of attention. But tonight, her gaze kept drifting toward one person.

Anil.

He stood across the room, surrounded by a group of people, his hands moving lightly as he spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the noise, carrying an effortless authority. People were drawn to him, leaning in when he talked—not because he demanded it, but because his presence commanded the moment. Not with force, but with ease.

Kavya found herself fascinated by that. How did he do it?

He wasn't the loudest in the room. He didn't dominate conversations or try to hold people's attention like others did. But somehow, Anil never seemed out of place. Wherever he was, it felt like he belonged there—confident, calm, completely in control of the space around him, even when it was filled with people.

It wasn't just tonight, either. She had noticed it time and again—whether in meetings at work, during impromptu brainstorming sessions, or casual hangouts after office hours. Anil just had this way of being everywhere without making it about himself. He had his hands in so many things—leading projects, volunteering for company events, mentoring juniors—and yet, he was never the one to talk about it. Everyone else did that for him, admiring how he managed to balance it all without ever needing the spotlight.

Kavya thought back to the first time she had really noticed him. It had been after a big team presentation. She had felt nervous, unsure of her performance, especially in a room full of senior leaders. But Anil had come up to her afterward, his tone calm, his smile reassuring.

"Hey, great points in that meeting," he had said, his voice steady. "You should speak up more often."

The comment had stuck with her. Not because it was flattery—Anil didn't do flattery. He said it like it was a fact, as though he genuinely believed it, and his quiet confidence made her wonder why she didn't believe it too.

Now, as she watched him laughing with his colleagues, head tilted back slightly, there was something so genuine in the way he carried himself. No need for performance. No pretense. Just... Anil being Anil. And Kavya realized that was one of his greatest strengths. Making people feel comfortable. He had this effortless way of creating space for others, like you didn't have to fight for attention or prove yourself around him. You just had to show up.

And he wasn't one to show off his own achievements, either. If you weren't paying attention, you wouldn't even know half the things he was involved in. People talked about it for him—they'd mention it in passing, things like Did you hear Anil's mentoring the new hires? or Anil's team won that big client project. He never brought it up himself. When he did talk about his work, it wasn't to boast; it was to share his excitement, to let others feel included. It wasn't about praise. It was about the joy of doing what he loved.

Kavya couldn't help but admire that. His ability to be so confident, without ego.

It wasn't that she wanted to be Anil. She didn't want to mimic him, to try and copy his every move. But watching him made her wonder how to find that same kind of ease within herself. That quiet strength he carried—the way he could stand tall, speak clearly, and make an impact without forcing it—she wished she could find that in herself, too.

For so long, Kavya had kept herself small, content to stay on the sidelines, unsure if she had a voice that deserved to be heard. She worried constantly about being too much or not enough, always second-guessing herself. But Anil? He didn't seem to wrestle with any of that. He didn't shrink to fit into spaces, nor did he puff himself up to stand out. He just... was.

And maybe that's what confidence really looked like.

She'd seen him handle difficult situations with that same poise. When things got heated at work, when people talked over each other, it was Anil who would step in. His voice remained calm, but firm, and suddenly, the room would quiet down, people would listen. It wasn't that he had all the answers—he didn't pretend to. But he never shied away from the moment. He didn't falter under pressure. There was something unshakable about how he approached challenges.

And Kavya thought, Maybe one day, I could be like that. Not like Anil, exactly—she didn't need to copy him. But maybe she could learn to stand a little taller, speak a little more confidently, stop worrying so much about how she came across. Maybe she could just... be.

She remembered a conversation she'd overheard between Anil and another colleague. They'd been struggling with a new project, feeling overwhelmed, and had asked Anil how he managed to juggle everything without losing his cool.

Anil had smiled, leaning back in his chair. "I don't always manage it," he'd admitted. "Some days are harder than others. But I try to remind myself that I'm allowed to take up space. I'm allowed to make mistakes. It's all part of it."

Allowed to take up space.

That line had stayed with Kavya ever since. She had never thought of it that way. All this time, she had been shrinking herself, trying to avoid taking up too much room, too much attention. But here was Anil, owning every room he walked into—not because he demanded it, but because he simply allowed himself to exist fully in it.

Now, as she watched him from her corner of the room, she wondered what it would be like to let go of all the hesitation. To stop holding back, to stop measuring her words before speaking them, to stop worrying about whether people saw her as too much or too little. Maybe it wasn't about having all the right answers. Maybe it was just about showing up. Being herself.

Anil turned then, catching her eye from across the room. He gave her a quick smile, a nod that felt casual, but meaningful. Hey, I see you. And just like that, he was pulled back into conversation, fully present again.

Kavya smiled to herself, nodding back, but inside, something had shifted. She wasn't there yet. She knew that. But watching Anil—seeing how effortlessly he carried himself, how grounded he seemed in who he was—it gave her hope.

Maybe one day, she'd find that in herself too. The ability to take up space, to speak with ease, to stop worrying about being too much or too little. To just... be.

For now, she'd watch, quietly absorbing the lessons he taught without even realizing he was teaching them. There was no rush. Confidence wasn't something you could force. But the possibility was there.

And that was enough to start with.