Three Calls to Dad

Warm indoor light balcony par spill ho rahi hai. Neeche streetlamp ka orange glow. Folding chair, ashtray, tea glass, potted plant, aur ek mobile phone. Prakash, 60, white vest aur reading glasses mein, balcony ke edge par baitha hai.

Prakash mobile phone dekhta hai. Ek message already sent.

"Aaj raat mujhe call karna. Kuch zaroori hai. Sone se pehle."

Prakash phone rakh deta hai. Tea glass ko halka sa ghumata hai.

KNOCK. Door khulta hai.

KUNAL (36), formal shirt, polished but tense, balcony mein enter karta hai.

Papa... sab theek hai na?

Theek hai toh tum itni jaldi kyun aa gaye?

Kunal ek beat leta hai. Practical mode on.

Aapne bola zaroori hai. Main socha... koi medical issue?

Bank mein kaam karte karte har baat ka EMI nikal lete ho tum.

Kunal ignore karta hai. Phone nikalta hai.

Main doctor ko call kar deta hoon. Aur agar kuch paperwork—

Paperwork baad mein. Pehle baith.

Kunal folding chair ke paas khada hi rehta hai.

KNOCK. Door phir khulta hai.

MILAN (29), denim shirt, thoda bikhra hua, andar aata hai. Uske chehre par resentment aur concern dono.

Wah. Dono ko ek hi line.

Tum bhi aa gaye.

Haan, kyunki message mein “sone se pehle” likha tha. Drama ka timing toh perfect tha.

Prakash dono ko dekhta hai.

Aa gaye dono. Achha.

Kunal finally baithta hai. Milan potted plant ke paas khada rehta hai.

Papa, seedha bolo. Kya hua hai?

Aur please, agar yeh phir se “family ko ek saath laane” wala lecture hai na...

Lecture nahi. Test.

Silence.

Test?

Haan. Dekhna tha kaun pehle aata hai.

Toh hum log ab school ke bacche hain?

School ke bacche hotey toh kam se kam ek dusre ki copy dekh lete.

Kunal exhale karta hai, irritated.

Papa, mujhe office subah jaldi jaana hai.

Aur Milan ko raat ko gaana banana hai. Dono busy ho. Bas main hi free hoon, hai na?

Aapne humein isliye bulaya kyunki aapko attention chahiye thi?

Attention nahi. Dhyaan.

Beat.

Prakash ashtray mein ungli se halka sa tap karta hai.

Kal subah workshop ki keys kisi ek ko deni hain.

Kunal straightens.

Workshop? Papa, usko proper structure chahiye. Accounts, GST, vendor contracts—main handle kar sakta hoon.

Aur machine ki awaaz ka kya? Oil ki smell? Kaam karne wale log? Unka kya?

Business emotions se nahi chalta, Milan.

Aur business sirf balance sheet se bhi nahi chalta, Kunal.

Prakash un dono ko dekhta hai, almost amused.

Bas. Abhi se shuru ho gaye.

Aapne mujhe bulaya tha toh mujhe lag raha tha koi emergency hai.

Emergency hi thi.

Kaunsi?

Ki mere dono beta mere saamne baith ke pehle ek dusre ko sun lein.

Kunal chup ho jata hai. Milan bhi.

Main mar nahi raha hoon.

Kunal aur Milan ek saath react karte hain.

Kya?

Toh phir yeh sab?

Main dekhna chahta tha kaun sirf apni baat leke aata hai, aur kaun meri baat sunne.

Kunal ka gussa thoda narm padta hai.

Aapne humein dara diya.

Darna zaroori tha. Tum dono ko ek dusre se zyada dar mujhe tha.

Workshop ka kya?

Prakash apni reading glasses utaarta hai, fold karta hai.

Workshop usko milegi jo kal subah mere saath chai peeyega.

Bas itna?

Nahi. Dusra bhi aayega. Aur bina gusse ke sunega.

Aur agar nahi aaya?

Toh keys yahin rahengi. Aur main bhi.

Beat. Kunal aur Milan ek dusre ko dekhte hain.

For the first time, the tension softens.

Main aaunga.

Main bhi.

Prakash nods, satisfied.

Bas. Ab chai thandi ho rahi hai.

He slides the tea glass toward the center. The workshop keys remain on the folding chair, visible but not handed over.

Kunal finally sits. Milan sits opposite. Prakash between them, calm.

Three men, one small balcony, one warm light.

The streetlamp below glows orange. The potted plant sways slightly.

Prakash looks at both sons.

Kal workshop khulegi.

Aur is baar, dono aana.