*Chapter 1: Pahla Din, Pahli Baarish*
Mera naam Vihaan hai. Main 25 saal ka hoon. Dilli mein paida hua, Dilli mein pada, Dilli mein hi rehta hoon. Mere liye gaon ka matlab tha Google Images, "rustic India" type ke photo, aur daadi ki kahaniyan jo woh bachpan mein sunati thi.
Phir Baba ne bola, "Ek mahina gaon chale ja. Hamara purana ghar hai Sitapur mein, UP. Dekh-rekh kar le. Tu wese bhi burnout bol raha tha."
Main bola, "Baba, wahan network bhi aata hai?"
Woh hanse. "Hawa aati hai. Woh kaafi hai."
Toh main aa gaya. Sitapur. June ka mahina. Garmi itni ki sadak pighal ke aapka joota pakad le. Mere paas do suitcase, ek laptop, aur zero idea ki main yahaan kya karunga 30 din.
Ghar purana tha, lekin saaf tha. Chacha ne pehle se saaf karwaya tha. Neem ka ped gate pe, aangan mein tulsi, aur chhat pe ek jhoola jo shayad mere Baba ke bachpan ka tha.
Pehle din shaam ko, baarish aa gayi. Bina pooche. Dilli ki baarish notice deti hai, Mausam Vibhaag tweet karta hai. Yahaan baarish bas aa jaati hai, jaise rishtedaar.
Main chhat pe bhaag ke gaya kapde utarne. Aur wahaan woh thi.
Geeli, poori tarah. Haath mein baalti, chhat ke kone se paani bhar rahi thi. Dupatta sar se hat gaya tha, baal khul gaye the, aur woh kisi se baat kar rahi thi—nahi, ga rahi thi. Dheere se.
"Sun rahi ho... badra..."
Main darwaze pe ruk gaya. Usne mujhe dekh liya. Gaana band. Aankh seedhi meri aankh mein.
"Tum kaun?" Usne poocha. Awaz mein gaaon tha, lekin darr nahi tha.
"Vihaan," main bola. "Yeh ghar mera... matlab, mere Baba ka hai. Main Dilli se."
"Accha. Dilli wale." Usne baalti uthayi. "Main Aanya. Agle ghar mein rehti hoon. Tumhari chhat se paani achha girta hai. Tulsi ke liye le ja rahi thi."
"Chori?"
"Parosaad," woh boli, aur muskurayi. Pehli baar. Uske daant safed, ek daant thoda tedha. "Chhat ka paani sabka hota hai. Jaise baarish."
Woh chali gayi. Main wahaan khada raha. Chhat pe, baarish mein, bina kapdon ke, aur ek ladki ki hasi le ke.
*Chapter 2: Subah Ki Chai*
Agli subah 6 baje kisi ne gate bajaya.
Main aankh malte hue bahar gaya. Aanya. Haath mein do kulhad, bhap nikal rahi thi.
"Chai," woh boli. "Padosi ka farz. Aur tum kal itne khoye hue lag rahe the, laga shaayad tumhe yaad dilaana pade ki subah hoti hai."
Maine kulhad pakda. Adrak wali chai. Dilli mein ₹60 ki milti hai Café mein. Yahaan naam tha—subah.
"Shukriya," main bola. "Andar aao?"
"Nahi. Tumhare ghar mein chappal leke jaana padta hai, aur mere pair mein mitti hai. Khet se aa rahi hoon." Usne apne pair dikhaye. Sach mein mitti. "Tum kya karte ho Dilli mein?"
"Startup," main bola. "App banate hain. Logon ka time bachane ke liye."
Woh hansi. "Yahaan time bohot hai. Bachane ki zarurat nahi. Kharch karne ki hai."
Touché.
"Tum?" maine poocha.
"Main sab kuch," woh boli. "Subah khet, dopahar school mein bachhon ko padhaati hoon, shaam ko Ma ki sath silai. Aur raat ko sapne dekhti hoon ki ek din Lucknow jaungi, college karungi."
"Lucknow kyun nahi gayi ab tak?"
"Paise," usne seedha bola. Koi sharam nahi. "Aur Baba ke baad main hi hoon. Chhota bhai hai, 10 saal ka. Usko padhaana hai."
Main chup ho gaya. Meri problem thi "burnout". Uski problem thi "zindagi".
"Chai achhi hai?" usne poocha.
"Bahut," main bola. Aur sach tha.
*Chapter 3: 30 Din Ka Contract*
Hum dost ban gaye. Ya jo bhi kehte hain jab ek ladki roz subah chai le aaye aur ek ladka har shaam uske khet ke mend pe baith ke usko fasal samjhaate hue sune.
Main usko Dilli ke baare mein batata. Metro, Gurgaon, club, deadline. Woh hasti. "Itna bhaagna kyun padta hai tum logon ko?"
Woh mujhe Sitapur ke baare mein batati. Kaun si chidiya kab aati hai, kaun sa ped kis mausam mein bimaar hota hai, kaun si bua ki beti kisse pyaar karti hai. Main sunta. Sach mein sunta. Pehli baar bina phone dekhe.
10 din baad, maine usko apna laptop dikhaya. Woh darr gayi. "Itna patla? Toot jayega."
"Toot-ta nahi," main bola. "Isme duniya hai."
"Dikhao."
Maine YouTube khola. Usne pehli baar Taj Mahal dekha. Video mein. "Itna bada hai?"
"Haan."
"Main dekhna chahti hoon. Asli mein."
"Chalegi?"
Woh chup ho gayi. Phir boli, "Sapne ticket nahi khareedte, Vihaan."
Us raat maine apni company ke HR ko mail kiya. "Mujhe ek mahina aur chahiye. WFH."
Woh maan gaye. Burnout ka case tha na.
*Chapter 4: Mela*
Saawan ka mahina aaya. Gaon mein mela laga. Jhoole, chaat, bhool-bhulaiyaan, aur ek bada wala stage jahan raat ko nautanki honi thi.
Aanya ne pehli baar suit nahi, saree pehni. Peeli. Haath mein laal chudiyan. Baal mein gajra.
Main usko dekh ke kuch bol nahi paaya. Toh bewakoofi kar di. "Tum... alag lag rahi ho."
"Behenji lag rahi hoon?" Usne aankh dikhayi.
"Nahi. Phool lag rahi ho. Gajre wala."
Woh laal ho gayi. "Dilli wale line maarte hain?"
"Sirf tum pe."
Mela mein humne sab kiya. Golgappe khaaye—usne 9, maine 3. Jhoole pe baithe—woh chillayi, main use pakde raha. Bhool-bhulaiyaan mein kho gaye—janbhujh ke.
Andheri gali mein, uska haath mere haath se takra gaya. Na usne hataya, na maine.
"Vihaan," usne dheere se kaha. "Tum 20 din baad chale jaoge."
"Haan."
"Phir yeh sab kyun?"
Kyunki main ruk nahi pa raha, main kehna chahta tha. Par bola, "Kyunki tumhare saath golgappa achha lagta hai."
Woh hasi. "Jhoothe."
"Thoda."
Bhool-bhulaiyaan se bahar nikle toh uska gajra mere kurte mein fans gaya tha. Usne nikaala. Ungli chhoo gayi.
"Sorry," woh boli.
"Mat bolo," main bola.
*Chapter 5: Baarish Phir Se*
Mera mahina khatam hone mein 7 din the.
Baarish wapas aayi. Is baar tez. Main chhat pe bhaaga. Aanya pehle se thi. Baalti ke saath. Deja vu.
"Tum phir," main bola.
"Tum phir," woh boli.
Hum dono has diye.
"Vihaan," woh boli, baarish ki awaz mein. "Tum Dilli ja ke bhool jaoge na?"
"Nahi."
"Sab yahi kehte hain. Phir shaadi ke card pe naam padhte hain."
Main uske paas gaya. Baarish ke beech. "Main shaadi ke card nahi bhejta. Main aa jata hoon."
"Kab?"
"Jab tum bulaogi."
Woh chup. Baarish uski palko pe. "Aur agar main na bulaun?"
"Tab bhi aa jaunga. Baalti leke. Keh dunga tulsi ke liye paani chahiye."
Woh has di. Phir rone lagi. Chup-chaap. Baarish mein pata nahi chalta.
Main uska haath pakadna chahta tha. Par ruka. "Aanya, main tumse kuch nahi maang raha. Bas yeh keh raha hoon ki main tumhe bhoolunga nahi. Tum... tum ghar jaisi ho. Aur ghar bhoola nahi jaata."
Usne meri taraf dekha. "Vihaan, main gaon ki ladki hoon. Meri duniya chhoti hai. Tumhari badi. Agar hum... agar kuch hua, toh takleef hogi. Tumhe bhi. Mujhe bhi."
"Toh takleef se dar ke khushi chhod dein?"
"Khushi se dar ke takleef le lein?"
Touché. Phir se.
Woh gayi nahi. Main bhi nahi. Hum dono baarish mein khade rahe. Do baalti, ek chhat, aur beech mein 2 foot ka faasla jo 200 kilometer jaisa lag raha tha.
*Chapter 6: Jaana*
Main chala gaya. 32ve din.
Station pe woh aayi thi. Bhai ko saath leke. Bhai ne mujhe ek dibba diya. "Didi ne banaya. Theekua. Raaste ke liye."
Maine Aanya ko dekha. Usne suit pehna tha. Wahi purana. Aankh laal.
"Phone karna," woh boli.
"Karunga."
"Roz nahi."
"Samajh gaya."
Train chali. Woh platform pe khadi rahi, chhoti si, peeli suit mein. Main khidki se haath hilaata raha jab tak woh dikhna band nahi hui.
Dilli wapas aa ke sab waisa tha. Par main nahi tha.
Office wahi. Chai wahi. Doston ki bakwas wahi. Par raat ko neend nahi. Kyunki Dilli mein baarish notice deti hai, aur woh notice ab khaali lagta tha.
*Chapter 7: Dooriyan*
Hum phone karte the. Pehle roz. Phir har doosre din. Phir weekend.
Woh batati: "Bhai ne class mein first aaya. Ma ki tabiyat theek hai. Khet mein gehun bo diya."
Main batata: "Promotion mila. Naya flat liya. Naya sheher jaisa lagta hai."
Par beech mein chup rehti. Dono ke.
Teesre mahine, maine poocha, "Aanya, main aaun?"
Woh boli, "Kis liye?"
"Tumhare liye."
Woh hasi. Thaki hui. "Vihaan, tumhare flat mein AC hai. Yahaan light do ghante jaati hai. Tumhare office mein coffee machine hai. Yahaan main kulhad mein chai deti hoon. Tum ruk nahi paoge. Aur main... main tumhare saath chal nahi paungi. Mera bhai hai. Ma hai. Zimmedari hai."
"Toh main yahaan shift ho jaun?"
Woh chup ho gayi. Phir boli, "Tum pagal ho. Tumhara career, tumhara sab kuch Dilli mein hai."
"Tum yahaan ho."
"Main kuaan hoon, Vihaan. Gehra. Tum baalti leke aaoge, paani bharoge, phir chale jaoge. Par kuaan wahin rehta hai. Akele."
Main kuch nahi bola. Kya bolta?
*Chapter 8: Diwali*
Diwali pe main bina bataye gaya. Sitapur.
Uske ghar diya jal raha tha. Woh aangan mein rangoli bana rahi thi. Mujhe dekh ke haath se rang gir gaya.
"Vihaan!"
"Happy Diwali," main bola, haath mein mithai ka dabba. "Dilli wali. Acchi nahi hai. Tumhari wali jaisi."
Woh daudi. Aur gale lag gayi. Pehli baar. Bina soche. Bina dari.
Main usko pakde raha. Uske baal mein gajra nahi tha. Par khushboo wahi thi. Mitti aur dhoop.
"Pagal," woh boli, roti hui. "Itni door se."
"Tumhare liye door nahi hota."
Us raat, poora gaon jaga. Mere liye nahi. Diwali ke liye. Par mujhe laga mere liye.
Aanya ke Baba ne mujhe khet dikhaye. Bhai ne apna report card. Ma ne kaha, "Beta, khana kha lo."
Koi ne nahi poocha "yeh kaun". Bas bitha liya. Khila diya. Gaon aisa hi hota hai.
*Chapter 9: Faisla*
Us raat, chhat pe, hum dono.
"Vihaan," woh boli. "Tum baar-baar aaoge, jaoge. Main baar-baar intezaar karungi. Yeh theek nahi."
"Toh kya karein?"
Woh chup. Phir boli, "Tum yahaan reh sakte ho? Sach mein? Dilli chhod ke? AC chhod ke? Promotion chhod ke?"
Maine socha. Lamba. Phir bola, "Haan."
"Kyun?"
"Kyunki tumhari chai AC se behtar hai."
Woh maara mujhe. "Serious ho."
"Serious hoon. Meri company remote deti hai. Main yahaan se kaam kar lunga. Internet lagwa lunga. Tower lagwa lunga agar chahiye. Main paani ki baalti bhi utha lunga. Roz."
"Tumhe sharam aayegi."
"Mujhe tumse door reh ke sharam aati hai."
Woh chup ho gayi. Phir boli, "Ek shart. Pehle Lucknow. Main college karungi. Tumhara intezaar nahi karungi. Main apna banaungi. Tum saath doge. Bandhoge nahi."
"Done," main bola. "Aur doosri shart?"
"Doosri shart yeh ki kabhi mat kehna 'maine tumhare liye sab chhoda'. Tumne apne liye chuna. Mujhe chuna. Chhoda nahi."
"Done," main bola. "Teesri?"
"Teesri yeh ki har baarish mein chhat pe aana padega. Baalti leke."
"Triple done."
*Chapter 10: Sheher, Gaon, Hum*
Aaj 3 saal ho gaye.
Aanya Lucknow se graduate hai. kiya. Ab Sitapur ke school ki headmistress hai. Wahi ek kamre wala school ab teen kamre ka hai. Usne banwaya. Sarkar se lad ke.
Main yahin hoon. Mera remote job chal raha hai. Mera startup bhi hai ab—gaon ke liye app banata hoon. Kisan, mausam, daam. Naam hai "KhetSe". 2 lakh download.
Humne usi purane ghar ko naya kiya. Chhat wahi. Jhoola wahi. Neem ka ped aur bada ho gaya.
Aur haan, humne shaadi ki. Bagiche mein. Aam ke ped ke neeche. Usne peeli saree pehni. Maine kurta. Gajra uske baal mein tha. Mere kurte mein fans gaya tha. Usi tarah.
Meri Dilli wali mummy pehle royi thi. "Gaon mein kaise rahega?"
Ab woh har mahine aati hain. Kehti hain, "Beta, teri chai mein ab sukoon hai."
*Aakhri Chapter: Aaj*
Aaj baarish ho rahi hai. Phir se.
Hum chhat pe hain. Do baalti. Do log.
"Bhool gaye?" Aanya poochti hai, baalti bharte hue.
"Kya?"
"Ki tum Dilli wale ho."
Main hasta hoon. "Tum yaad dila deti ho. Roz. Chai deke."
Woh paani ka chheenta maarti hai. Main bhi. Hum bachhe jaise ladte hain, 28 aur 26 ke hoke.
"Vihaan," woh kehti hai, jab hum thak ke jhoole pe baithte hain. "Tumhe kabhi lagta hai ki galat faisla liya?"
Main uska haath pakadta hoon. Mitti wala. Mazboot.
"Galat faisla woh hota hai jiske baad raat ko neend na aaye," main kehta hoon. "Mujhe toh baarish ki awaz mein neend aati hai. Tumhare paas."
Woh sar mere kandhe pe rakh deti hai. "Achi baat hai. Kyunki main tumhe wapas Dilli nahi jaane dungi. Tumhe aadat ho gayi hai baalti uthane ki."
"Deal," main kehta hoon.
Baarish tez hoti hai. Tulsi khush hoti hai. Kuaan bhar jaata hai. Aur do log, jo do duniya se aaye the, ek chhat pe baith ke decide karte hain ki duniya wahi hoti hai jahan pyaar ho.