What My Playlist Says About My Work Style

(A psychological thriller starring kuthu beats, phonk drops, and unchecked ambition) 

If you ever want to understand me truly, deeply, and metaphorically; please do not read my resume. Do not stalk my LinkedIn. Do not even corner me at the water station. 

Just open my playlist. 

My playlist is basically my autobiography in shuffle mode: equal parts of chaos, confidence, productivity, and the occasional existential crisis I refuse to schedule during work hours. 

My Deadline 

Could start a generator 

When a deadline approaches, I don’t rely on motivation. 
I rely on Kuthu beats. 

Yes, the kind that could power half the state if someone connected a wire from my headphones to the grid. 

When Anirudh drops a beat, my typing speed increases by 47%. 
When HipHop Tamizha hits that perfect tempo, I unlock a level of focus that should honestly be considered a performance-enhancing drug. 

If you see me with scrunched eyebrows, fingers flying, and music loud enough to scare a nearby plant then congratulations, you are witnessing my Super work mode. 

Melodies List  

My “I am a calm and collected human being” act 

On rare days when I am working peacefully with no deadlines breathing down my neck, no chaos, no fire drills, then I switch to melodies. 

Harris Jayaraj, Sai Abhyankar, Anirudh. Soft. Calm. Almost suspiciously serene. 

It is the auditory equivalent of lighting a scented candle in my brain. But do not be fooled; this is just the calm before the next kuthu storm. 

Bass-Boosted Identity Crisis 

In a good way 

There is something about bass-boosted tracks that rewire my personality. One drop, and suddenly, I am the main character, the background villain, and the dramatic soundtrack… all at once. 

Bass = confidence 
Boosted bass = delusional confidence (the best kind) 

Phonk Beats 

My instant confidence injection 

Phonk is my personality on days my personality is missing. One bass drop and suddenly I go: 

“I am the moment.” 

My energy rises. My motivation spikes. My work becomes more dramatic than it needs to be. 

Honestly, Phonk should sponsor my career at this point. 

The Slow Walk 

Reverbed reflection era 

Then there is the slowed + reverb side of me (safe for work emotions only), the version who feels things with embarrassing intensity, but refuses to show it during office hours. 

It is not heartbreak music (we do NOT invite emotional spirals to work). 
It’s more like: “What if this planning sheet was part of a sad Tamil movie? Would I win an award?” 

My Rules 

Absolutely NO heartbreak songs at work! 

Because if a breakup song comes on during office hours, suddenly I am not doing my tasks but thinking about all the questionable decisions I have made since age 17. 

My productivity: Evaporated 
My self-esteem: Buffering 

So, heartbreak songs are strictly banned. We do not invite emotional damage into strategy planning. 

My workspace looks like I am preparing for an epic Bahubali final battle. 

Laptop? Check. 
Notes? Check. 
Mobile and Earphones? Check. 
Milk? Absolutely check. 

If one item is missing, I cannot work. My soul feels incomplete. My creative chakra does not align. 

This is my holy trinity. Laptop-Notes-Milk-Personal playlist-ChatGPT Rant Sessions. Okay, fine, it is a pentagon! 

 The office hum is my background track. 

Some people want silence… not me!  

Silence makes me want to curl up and sleep like a burrito.  

Our workspace feels like a silent disco where everyone is in their own world, living their own movie, powered by wildly different vibes. 

The best part? 

Even though we are locked into our playlists, we share the same hum with the click of keyboards and the chatter. 
It feels like a shared universe with individual soundtracks. It all adds to my “I am part of the world” feeling. Then my kuthu playlist kicks in and I temporarily leave the world again. 

I lip read as I listen to music. 

Here is the thing: 
Even with full-blast music in my ears, I can observe intensely. 

I notice expressions. 
Micro-reactions. 
Silent jokes. 
People mouthing words across the room. 

While everyone thinks I am lost in my playlist, I am actually narrating an entire documentary in my head titled: 

Time for the “Why are my teammates like this?” analysis. 

Sometimes I even respond out loud while not actually hearing what they said. 
It is my superpower and my glitch. 

I am a sprinter, not a marathoner. 

My work rhythm basically goes like this: 

Fast beat song plays 
Brain: LET’S GET EVERYTHING DONE RIGHT NOW 
Fingers: Typing like I’m trying to break the keyboard 
My soul: Did we just age 5 years in 5 minutes? 

Then, I rest. Then, I will do it again. Because consistency is overrated. And adrenaline is delicious. 

My personality at work: Loading… loading… BAM! 

At first, I am quiet. Polite. Normal. 

But give me comfort + kuthu beats + trust and suddenly I’m the loudest, funniest, most chaotic person you will meet. 

A gentle existence that becomes a firecracker. 
A soft melody that turns into a rave. A cliffhanger queen who drops punchlines sharper than deadlines. 

My alter ego: The confused achiever 

I get things done. 
Sometimes I do not know how. 
Sometimes I do not know why. 

The deadline? Beaten. 

Music plays. I achieve. Confusingly but effectively. 

So, What DOES My Playlist Say About My Work Style? 

It says: 
I am powered by rhythm, chaos, and unfiltered passion. 
I oscillate between intense productivity and soft creative flow. 
I work hard, sprint fast, and laugh often. 
I use music the way some people use caffeine as an identity, as fuel, as therapy, as a vibe. 

And most importantly: 

My playlist is not just music. 
It is my workflow, my personality, my mood board, my story, and my secret superpower, all wrapped in beats that hit harder than my to-do list. 

And with that, earphones off. Personality reset. The loud, chaotic version of me logs out for the day and quiet mode will reboot again tomorrow at 9:46 AM. 

 

Storyteller