Teen mahine mein Sameer aur Sana ne ek bhi candlelight dinner nahi kiya.
Unhone Chowk ke corner par momos khaye, jahan chutney se zyada smoke aankhon mein jaata tha. Unhone NorthLine ke bahar saat-minute wali chai pi, kyunki Sameer ka rider closure pending tha. Ek Sunday ko Gomti ke paas walk plan ki, par Noor Chikan ke buyer ne size chart badal diya aur date video call mein convert ho gayi—Sana spreadsheet share karti rahi, Sameer screen ke doosre kone mein noodles khaata raha.
Phir bhi unke beech kuch tez, practical aur apni marzi ka ban gaya.
Sameer ne seekha ki Sana “dispatch running” likhe to uska matlab call karke “bas ek minute” bolna nahi hota. Sana ne seekha ki Sameer ka “hum dekh lenge” kabhi confidence, kabhi darr aur kabhi dono ka cocktail hota. Usne har version ke liye alag sawaal banana shuru kiya.
“Kab tak dekh loge?”
“Kis paise se dekh loge?”
“Kya likh ke rakha hai?”
Aur jab Sameer sach mein kisi rider ka medical emergency shift cover karta ya wrong deduction ke khilaaf Dubey sir se ladta, Sana bas poochti, “Khaana khaya?”
Yeh unka romance tha. Flowers nahi; follow-up.
***
Thirty-day review ke din Dubey sir ne Sameer ko cabin mein bulaya. Exception logs complete the, morning scanner tests recorded, mis-sort rate target ke andar. Customer callback sheet par Sameer ke initials har row mein.
“Warning close nahi hoti,” Dubey sir bole. “Record par rahegi. But performance improved. Continue.”
Sameer ne chair par thoda aage hote hue poocha, “Promotion cycle mein consider honge?”
Dubey sir ne file dekhi. “Is quarter nahi. Headcount freeze.”
“Increment?”
“Standard.”
Sameer ko relief aur disappointment ek saath hua. Job bachi thi. Kursi ka naam wahi tha.
Cabin se nikalte waqt notice board par ek partner programme ka circular laga tha: authorised pickup/drop point—local entrepreneurs, parcel booking, returns, scheduled collection. Sameer ne QR scan kiya. Form mein deposit, shop proof, background verification, minimum operating hours aur equipment requirements the.
Usne screenshot Sana ko bheja.
SAMEER: Apna business ka gate.
SANA: Gate ke peeche rent hai. Details bhejiye.
SAMEER: Aap excitement ko bhi TDS kaat ke deti ho.
SANA: Deposit kitna?
Sameer ne message read chhod diya.
Shaam ko Zafar Chacha ke stall par Sana notebook lekar aayi. Sameer brochure print karke laya, jo progress thi. Usne ek possible shop ki photo bhi dikhayi—Lucknow mein cheap lane, main road se ek turn andar.
“Rent?” Sana ne poocha.
“Aath hazaar.”
“Deposit?”
“Teen month.”
“Programme security?”
“Pandrah.”
“Shelves, printer, scanner ya phone, board, packaging?”
“Manage ho jayega.”
“Amount?”
“Sana, business mein vision—”
“Vision ko table dijiye.”
Sameer ne brochure fold kar diya. “Har cheez pe interrogation zaroori?”
“Aap job chhodkar sheher badalne ki baat kar rahe. Haan.”
“Humko operations aata hai.”
“Bilkul. Isliye pooch rahi hoon. Aata hai to numbers se darr kyun?”
Sameer gusse mein chai aadhi chhodkar nikal gaya. Zafar Chacha ne usse roka nahi. Sana ne bhi nahi.
Do din unhone sirf good morning bheja. Teesre din Sameer ek spreadsheet lekar aaya. Deposit, programme security, used furniture, basic thermal printer, signage, packaging stock, electricity, internet, expected per-parcel commission, daily break-even volume. Kuch figures estimate, kuch programme documents se.
“Fuel pickup ka missing,” Sana boli.
“Add karenge.”
“Return parcel earning?”
“Lower slab. Woh bhi.”
Sameer ne aankhen nahi ghumayiं. “Dekho, humko yeh karna hai. Par bina samjhe nahi. Tum help karogi?”
Sana ne sheet mein ek column add kiya: ASSUMPTION SOURCE.
“Ab karungi.”
Sameer ne table ke neeche uska haath chhua. “Thanks.”
“Consulting fee badhegi.”
“Lifetime contract kar lete.”
Sana ne use warning look diya. Sameer hansa, par uske bag mein ek chhota ring box tha jo usne abhi nahi nikala.
Spreadsheet ek raat mein business nahi bani. Agle do weekends Sameer ne Lucknow ke teen possible locations dekhe. Pehli main road par thi, rent budget ke double. Doosri sasti thi par stairs ke upar—parcel customer ko board dikhai deta, counter nahi. Teesri wahi narrow lane wali, jahan aas-paas tailoring units aur wholesalers the, lekin walking traffic expected se kam.
Sana har visit par saath nahi gayi. Usne kaha, “Aap entrepreneur hain. Footfall khud giniye.”
Sameer do afternoons plastic stool par chai lekar baitha aur fifteen-minute intervals mein pedestrians, possible customers aur courier riders count kiye. Pehle sheet mein usne “bahut,” “medium,” “dead” likha. Sana ne wapas bheja.
“Numbers.”
“Tumko poetry se problem hai.”
“Rent poetry mein nahi jaata.”
Agli sheet mein actual counts the. Usne programme representative ko call karke poocha ki returns par commission kitna, COD acceptance allowed ya nahi, loss liability kahan transfer hoti, scheduled pickup kis minimum volume par. Representative irritate hua; Sameer ne phir bhi answers mail mein maange.
NorthLine mein Tinku ko jab pata chala to bola, “Bhaiya, apna counter hua to free samosa policy?”
“Employee benefit performance-linked.”
“To hum yahin theek.”
Sameer ne Dubey sir ko abhi notice nahi diya. Yeh Sana ki condition nahi, uska khud ka decision tha. “Agreement approve aur cash reserve clear hone se pehle hero entry nahi,” usne kaha.
Sana ne reply diya, “This is the first sensible cinematic line from you.”
Unke dates bhi calculation ke beech chalte. Ek baar Sameer Noor Chikan ke bahar Sana ka wait kar raha tha. Dispatch van late thi. Sana ne do bundles ke physical pieces count karaye, packing list correct ki aur courier label reprint karaya. Sameer ne bina interfere kiye cartons ko weight scale tak shift karne mein help ki.
Manager ne Sana se kaha, “Data entry complete karke jaiye.”
Sameer ne baad mein poocha, “Tum dispatch bhi dekh rahi thi, phir designation data entry?”
“Welcome to my favourite complaint.”
“Raise maanga?”
“Do baar. Bola pehle consistency.”
“Tumse zyada consistent unka fan hai kya? Woh bhi roz band padta.”
Sana hansi, phir serious hui. “Isi liye business mein mera work free mat samajhna. Help aur permanent unpaid shift alag.”
Sameer ne us sentence ko sheet ke note se zyada dhyaan se liya. “Alag. Promise.”
***
Chirag aur Mehak ka rishta bilkul doosri speed par tha.
Woh bhi milte—kabhi Lucknow chaat walk, kabhi Kanpur mein group lunch, kabhi calls. Chirag ne Pushpa ke saamne Mehak ki job timing defend karna seekha. Mehak ne uski factory worries ko “ho jayega” ke peeche se poochna seekha. Lekin dono marriage shabd ke paas pahunchkar speed kam kar dete.
Ek shaam Aastha Diagnostics ke baad Mehak ne bataya ki uske parents ne Chirag ke baare mein suna hai.
“Kya bola?” Chirag ne poocha.
“Pehla sawaal salary.”
“Romantic family hai.”
“Doosra ghar.”
“Panditji ka portion hai. Hum rent dete.”
“Teesra future.”
Chirag ne gol gappa ka paani dekha. “Future ka written quote kahan milta?”
Mehak ne uski taraf dekha. “Mujhe answer abhi nahi chahiye. Bas mazaak ke bina kabhi sochna.”
“Tum soch rahi?”
“Haan.”
“Hum bhi.”
Yahi unka confession tha. No ring. No placard. Do paper bowls aur future ka bina rate wala quotation.
Mehak ke ghar mein future ka quotation agle Sunday formally maanga gaya.
Uske father, Vinod Dixit, insurance office se retired clerk the; har risk ko form aur maturity date mein dekhte. Mother, Sarita, ghar aur extended family ke beech information exchange chalatiं. Mehak ne Chirag ka naam khud bataya, kisi relative ke version ka wait nahi kiya.