Wrong Gear

Subah ke 8:47 baje the, aur Sameer already apni life se do kadam aage aur do nervous breakdowns peeche chal raha tha.

Connaught Place ke paas traffic jam tha, horn ka orchestra full volume pe tha, aur uske phone pe office ke messages aise blink kar rahe the jaise sabko sirf usi ki jaan leni ho. “Client call in 10 mins,” “Deck updated?” “Where are you?” — har notification ek chhota sa attack lag raha tha. Sameer ne ek haath se phone pakda hua tha, doosre se apna laptop bag seedha kiya, aur baar-baar watch dekh raha tha jaise time koi personal dushman ho.

“Arre bhaiya, jaldi chalo na,” usne auto wale ko pehle hi bola tha, jab woh Janpath ke corner pe chadha. “I’m getting late.”

Auto wala, Ramkaka, pachaas ke paar, safed baal, halka sa tilak, aur aankhon mein ajeeb si shaanti. Unka auto bhi unhi ki tarah lag raha tha—purana, thoda khadkhadata hua, par chalne mein yakeenan. Unhone mirror se Sameer ko dekha aur bas itna bole, “Late toh sab hote hain beta. Par koi traffic mein late hota hai, koi dimaag mein.”

Sameer ne response dene ke liye sirf ek “Hmm” nikala. Uska attention already phone par tha. Ek email open kiya, phir WhatsApp pe ek reply type kiya, phir delete kar diya, phir dobara type kiya. Uska thumb speed se chal raha tha, par chehra bilkul zyada hi tight tha. Jaise phone hi uska oxygen cylinder ho.

Ramkaka ne auto ko ek gap milte hi aage badhaya, phir casually bole, “Aaj kal log auto mein baithte hain ya body sirf seat pe rakhi hoti hai?”

Sameer ne bina dekhe bola, “Haan haan, bas traffic nikaaliye na uncle.”

“Uncle?” Ramkaka ne halki si hansi ke saath repeat kiya. “Theek hai beta, uncle hi sahi. Main toh 25 saal se auto chala raha hoon. Ab toh log mujhe GPS se zyada yaad rakhte hain.”

Sameer ko yeh joke sunne ka mann nahi tha. Usne ek aur message bheja aur phone ka volume mute kar diya. Uski forehead pe sweat ki halki layer thi, despite AC office jaane wali life mein uska apna AC wala auto nahi, phir bhi body pura emergency mode mein thi.

Ramkaka ne kuch der tak chupchaap drive kiya. Phir ekdum se bole, “Beta, aapka gala tight hai.”

Sameer ne head up kiya. “Kya?”

“Gala tight hai. Aur kandhe,” Ramkaka ne mirror mein dekhte hue kaha, “kandhe kaafi upar chadh gaye hain. Jaise aap kisi invisible bag ko dho rahe ho. Par bag haath mein nahi, dimaag mein hai.”

Sameer ko pehli baar laga ki kisi ne usko directly dekha hai. Sirf face nahi, state of mind. Woh thoda uncomfortable ho gaya. “Office ka pressure hai uncle. Important meeting hai.”

Ramkaka ne auto ko ek scooter ke side se carefully nikala. “Pressure toh tyre mein bhi hota hai. Par zyada ho jaaye toh phat jaata hai. Insaan ka bhi same funda hai.”

Sameer ne ek short laugh kiya, par usmein maza kam aur embarrassment zyada tha. “Aapko philosophy ka shauk hai kya?”

Ramkaka ne dheere se muskurate hue kaha, “Shauk nahi beta, mazboori hai. 25 saal se traffic mein logon ke chehre padh raha hoon. Road pe gaadiyan kam, tension zyada chalti hain. Aur aadmi ka face dekh ke pata chal jaata hai ki woh body mein baitha hai ya bas body ko ghaseet raha hai.”

Sameer ne finally phone side mein rakha. Yeh line thodi zyada hit kar gayi thi. Usne window se bahar dekha. Metro pillar ke neeche ek chai wala kulhad arrange kar raha tha, ek school kid apna bag bounce karte hue chal raha tha, aur ek office lady apni dupatta sambhalte hue signal ka wait kar rahi thi. Sab log kahin na kahin pohanchne ki jaldi mein the. Par unmein se koi bhi Sameer jaisa nahi lag raha tha—jaise uska andar ka engine pehle se hi overheat ho chuka ho.

Ramkaka ne uski silence ko pakad liya. “Aap marketing wale ho na?”

Sameer thoda chonk gaya. “Haan. Kaise pata?”

“Marketing wale logon ke haath phone ko aise pakadte hain jaise koi baby ho,” Ramkaka bole. “Aur aankhen hamesha agle call, agle mail, agle target pe hoti hain. Present mein baith ke bhi future ko chase karte rehte hain.”

Sameer ne hoth bheench liye. “Target hi toh kaam hai uncle. Agar target nahi hoga toh promotion kaise milega?”

Ramkaka ne ek red light pe auto roka. Unhone steering wheel pe dono haath rakhe aur Sameer ki taraf bina mudhe, bas mirror mein dekhkar bole, “Promotion mil jaaye toh kya milega?”

Sameer ne turant jawab diya, “Better role. Better package. Respect.”

“Achha,” Ramkaka ne calmly kaha. “Aur uske baad?”

Sameer ruk gaya. “Phir… aur growth.”

“Phir aur growth,” Ramkaka ne repeat kiya, jaise koi purana mantra ho. “Aur uske baad?”

Sameer irritate hone laga. “Uncle, aap yeh kaisi baatein kar rahe ho? Zindagi kaise chalti hai, aapko pata hai?”

Ramkaka ne pehli baar seedha uski taraf dekha. Aankhon mein na gussa tha, na bura maanna. Bas ek aisi thandak thi jo hot coffee ke baad milti hai.

“Beta,” woh dheere se bole, “25 saal se main Delhi ki sadkon pe logon ko le jaa raha hoon. Kisi ko hospital, kisi ko shaadi, kisi ko date pe, kisi ko office, kisi ko ghar. Ek cheez sabmein common hai—sab destination pe pahunchna chahte hain. Par koi raasta enjoy nahi karta. Aur phir jab destination aa jaata hai, toh ya toh phone hota hai, ya next destination.”

Unhone ek saans li aur phir bola, “Zindagi bhi aaj kal same auto ban gayi hai. Gear mein rakh ke bas bhaag rahe ho. Par gear sahi hai ya nahi, woh koi dekh hi nahi raha.”

Sameer ne unconsciously apni seat belt aur tight kar li. Uska phone silent tha, par ab uska dimaag loud ho gaya tha. Ramkaka bolte ja rahe the, aur har word aise lag raha tha jaise koi purani dust wali shelf se ek sach nikaal raha ho.

“Sun beta,” Ramkaka ne kaha, “gaadi tabhi smoothly chalti hai jab speed, gear aur road ka dhyan rakha jaaye. Insaan bhi waise hi hota hai. Aapka body office mein hai, dimag client ke call mein, aur heart kahin future ke fear mein. Toh chal kaun raha hai? Aur kiske liye?”

Sameer ke paas jawab nahi tha. Pehli baar usne notice kiya ki uska jaw clenched tha. Uske shoulders waise hi upar the. Uske saans chhoti aur fast thi. Jaise uska body usse bol raha ho, “Bhai, thoda dheere,” aur uska mind bol raha ho, “Nahi, aur tez.”

Ramkaka ki awaaz ab aur soft ho gayi. “Main na, pehle ek company ke bahar roz auto lagata tha. Bahut bade log aate the. Coat, tie, laptop, important face. Par jab auto mein baithte, toh sab ek jaise lagte—thake hue. Ek din ek aadmi ne mujhse bola, ‘Uncle, life mein kuch feel hi nahi hota.’ Maine usse kaha, ‘Beta, feel tab hoga jab tum chalna band karke thoda dekhoge.’ Woh has diya. Do minute baad uska phone baj raha tha, aur woh phir wahi ban gaya—machine.”

Sameer ne bina soche bol diya, “Aur aapko lagta hai main bhi machine hoon?”

Ramkaka ne ek second ke liye auto ko side mein slightly slow kiya. “Main lagta nahi beta, dekh raha hoon.”

Yeh line Sameer ke andar jaake lagi. Bahut simple thi, par seedhi. Usne khidki se bahar dekha. Achanak usko apna kal yaad aaya—late night deck edits, dinner skip, weekend pe bhi email reply, Sunday ko bhi “just one call,” aur har baar woh khud se kehta tha, “Bas promotion ho jaaye, phir relax.” Par promotion ke baad kya? Shayad next target. Phir next. Phir next. Jaise zindagi ek escalator ho jo kabhi stop hi na hota ho.

Usko yaad aaya last month jab usne apni maa ka call ignore kar diya tha because “important meeting.” Usko yaad aaya ek dost ki shaadi miss kar di thi because “client review.” Usko yaad aaya ki pichhle do mahine se woh bina kisi reason ke chidhchida tha. Neend thi, par rest nahi. Khana tha, par taste nahi. Success ka chase tha, par satisfaction ka pata nahi.

Woh khud se thoda dar gaya. Kya woh sach mein apni life wrong gear mein chala raha tha?

Ramkaka ne uska expression padh liya. “Aap soch rahe ho na ki main itni baat kyun kar raha hoon?”

Sameer ne dheere se sir hilaaya.

“Kyuki beta,” Ramkaka bole, “main auto chalata hoon, par logon ko chalti hui zindagi dekhne ka mauka bhi milta hai. Main har passenger ko ek hi cheez bolta hoon—jaldi pahunchna hai toh pehle theek se baitho. Warna body yahin rahegi aur mann kahin aur. Phir thakaan double ho jaati hai.”

Traffic ne ek chhota sa opening diya. Ramkaka ne auto smoothly nikaala. Bas us waqt Sameer ko laga ki uski saari inner noise ek second ke liye kam ho gayi hai. Aisa nahi tha ki sab tension gayab ho gaya. Office ki meeting thi hi, boss ka mood bhi unpredictable tha, aur inbox ab bhi bhara hua tha. Par ab woh sab same size ke monsters nahi lag rahe the.

“Uncle,” Sameer ne dheere se kaha, “aapne kabhi feel nahi kiya ki life nikal rahi hai?”

Ramkaka ne halka sa hans diya. “Bahut baar. Isliye toh main roz subah auto start karne se pehle ek minute baithta hoon. Bas baithta hoon. Kuch nahi karta. Na phone, na tension, na gaali dene wale horn. Woh ek minute mujhe yaad dilata hai ki main bhi insaan hoon, sirf driver nahi.”

Sameer ne unki taraf dekha. Itne simple se ritual mein kitni gehraai thi. Usne socha, uski subah toh alarm snooze, emails, haste haste coffee, aur phir seedha race. Kabhi ek minute bhi aise nahi baitha tha, bas khud ke saath.

Auto office building ke gate ke paas aa chuka tha. Sameer ne watch dekhi. Surprisingly, woh bas 7 minutes late tha—jaisa usko laga tha, utna disaster nahi. Usne wallet nikala, fare diya, aur ek second ke liye ruk gaya. Uske haath mein ab phone nahi tha. Phone pocket mein tha, aur uska grip bhi loose.

Ramkaka ne note count kiye bina hi change wapas kiya. “Rakh lo beta. Aaj ka traffic already bahut mehenga tha.”

Sameer ne paise pocket mein daale aur bola, “Nahi uncle, keep it. Aur… thanks.”

Ramkaka ne auto ke steering pe halki thapki di. “Thanks mujhe kyun? Main toh bas mirror sa tha. Jo dikh gaya, woh tumhara tha.”

Sameer ko yeh line achhi lagi. Mirror sa. Haan, shayad aaj subah woh sirf ek auto ride nahi, ek mirror ride thi. Usne pehli baar apne aap ko ek alag nazar se dekha—ek aisa banda jo success ke naam pe apni saans, apna mood, apni family calls, apni shaanti sab kuch collateral damage bana chuka tha.

Usne gate ki taraf ek kadam badhaya, phir ruk gaya. Phone ko haath mein lene ki jagah pocket mein hi rehne diya. Usne ek gehri saans li. Delhi ka hawa waise hi thodi dusty thi, par woh saans usko fresh lagi. Usne shoulders neeche kiye. Jab woh office building ki taraf badha, toh pehli baar usne speed nahi, direction feel ki.

Peeche se Ramkaka ki awaaz aayi, “Beta!”

Sameer palta.

“Gear theek rakhna,” Ramkaka ne muskurate hue kaha. “Aur kabhi kabhi neutral mein bhi khade rehna. Gaadi ko bhi, aur zindagi ko bhi, thoda rest chahiye.”

Sameer ne is baar sach mein smile ki. Chhoti si, par real. “Bilkul, uncle.”

Woh office ke revolving doors ki taraf bina bhaage chala. Phone pocket mein tha. Inbox wahi ka wahi tha. Meeting bhi wahi thi. Par Sameer ke andar kuch shift ho gaya tha. Jaise koi invisible gear finally sahi jagah par aa gaya ho.

Usne pehli baar bina guilt ke apni saans ko mehsoos kiya. Aur usse pata chal gaya ki life ka matlab sirf destination nahi hota. Kabhi-kabhi raaste mein hi woh cheez mil jaati hai jo tumhe wapas insaan bana deti hai.

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