**Chhota Sa Flat, Badi Si Problem**

Kabir ke liye subah ka matlab hota tha discipline, order, aur ek aisa environment jahan har cheez apni exact jagah par ho. Uske room ka desk aise set hota tha jaise koi Apple store ka display ho, alag-alag pen alag tray mein, laptop ka charger left side mein, notebook right side mein, aur water bottle bilkul 45-degree angle pe. Isliye jab usne alarm snooze karke aankh kholi aur apni table ki taraf dekha, uska dimaag ek second ke liye freeze ho gaya.

Laptop charger gayab tha.

“Yaar… no way,” Kabir ne under-breath bola, aur bed se aise utha jaise battlefield mein report kar raha ho. Usne drawer khola, bed ke neeche dekha, curtain ke peeche jhaanka, aur phir table ko ek baar aur scan kiya. Charger nahi tha. Sirf uska mouse, neatly coiled earphones, aur ek invisible tension thi jo room mein already settle ho chuki thi.

Aaj uska client call tha. Important wala. Aur charger ka missing hona uske liye bas missing charger nahi tha—yeh ek direct personal attack tha.

Flat mein teen log rehte the. Kabir, jo IT professional tha aur apne hisaab se “organized” se zyada “over-organized” tha. Rohan, freelance editor, jo hamesha has raha hota tha, aur itna bhulakkad tha ki kabhi-kabhi apna phone khud hi dhoondhta phirta tha. Aur Simran, corporate lawyer, sharp as a blade, no-nonsense, aur itni stressed ki uski chai bhi uske mood ko balance nahi kar pati thi.

Kabir ne hall mein aate hi announce kiya, “Mera laptop charger kahan hai?”

Rohan sofa par pair fold karke baitha tha, coffee ka mug haath mein aur face par woh innocent smile jo sirf Rohan jaise logon ko suit karti hai. “Bhai, maine toh nahi liya. Main khud apna charger dhoondh raha hoon. Phone ka, earphones ka, life ka—sab.”

Simran apne office bag mein files shove kar rahi thi. “Mujhse mat puchh. Main already late hoon aur tumhara charger mere stress level mein add karne ka koi right nahi rakhta.”

Kabir ne dono ko dekha. “Mujhe lagta hai kisi ne liya hai.”

Rohan ne eyebrows uthaayi. “Oho, Detective Kabir is back. Kya clue mila? Footprints? Fingerprints? Ya phir tumhara internal OCD GPS?”

Simran ne file band ki. “Kabir, stop dramatizing. Agar charger missing hai toh dhundo. Interrogate mat karo.”

Par Kabir ko toh bas shuruaat chahiye thi. Uska mind already investigation mode mein chala gaya tha. Pehle usne kitchen check ki. Fridge ke upar? Nahi. Microwave ke paas? Nahi. Dining table ke neeche? Nahi. Phir usne bathroom ke shelf tak scan kiya, kyunki uske hisaab se Rohan kuch bhi kahin bhi rakh sakta tha.

“Why would charger be in bathroom?” Rohan ne door se puchha, hansi rok nahi paaya.

Kabir ne bina dekhe bola, “Because tumhare jaise log logic ke against operate karte ho.”

Simran ne apne heels ka strap adjust kiya aur dry tone mein boli, “Main office ja rahi hoon. Agar tum dono ka emotional drama khatam ho gaya ho toh please mujhe guilt-trip mat karna.”

Kabir ne seedha uski taraf dekha. “Tumne liya hai na?”

Simran ne usko aise dekha jaise usne uski legal degree ko insult kiya ho. “Excuse me? Main kyun loongi tumhara charger?”

“Kyuki tumhe mere system ko disturb karna pasand hai.”

Rohan chair se uthkar beech mein aaya. “Arre bas bas, don’t start. Simran, tumko Kabir ka charger chahiye bhi kyun? Wo toh aise organize karta hai jaise NASA mission ho.”

Simran ne ek sharp smile di. “Aur tumhara kya? Tumhare room mein toh charger, comb, socks, aur trauma sab ek hi drawer mein milte honge.”

Rohan laughed loudly. “Trauma toh nahi, but yes, drawer definitely a mess hai.”

Kabir ne ek deep breath li. “I’m serious. Mera charger gayab hai. Aur kal bhi mera power bank move hua tha.”

Simran ne instantly turn kiya. “Mera charger bhi kal gayab tha. Aur oddly, aaj subah mere desk pe wapas mil gaya. Kabir, tum hi ho na?”

Kabir ka face aur tight ho gaya. “Main? Tum hi ho jo mere gadgets ko touch karti ho.”

“Touch? Main tumhare gadgets ko dekhna bhi pasand nahi karti.”

Rohan ne dono ke beech mein haath hilaaya. “Guys, please. It’s 9:15 AM. Itna energy toh India-Pakistan match mein bhi nahi hota jitna tum dono ke beech hota hai.”

Kabir ne Rohan ki taraf mud ke kaha, “Aur tum? Kal tumne mera extension board borrow kiya tha.”

Rohan blinked. “Borrow? Haan, but return bhi kiya tha.”

“Return kiya tha ya kahin aur fenk diya tha?”

Rohan ne shrug kiya. “Mujhe yaad nahi. Par main innocent hoon.”

Kabir ne aankhen narrow ki. Usne flat ka poora chhota sa inspection start kar diya, jaise koi crime scene ho. Simran ke bag ke side pockets check kiye. Rohan ke sofa ke neeche, cushion ke beech, even shoe rack ke andar bhi dekha. Simran ne usko dekhte hue bas itna kaha, “Tumhari energy dekh ke lag raha hai tumne MBA nahi, detective course kiya hai.”

Kabir ne Rohan ke room ka darwaza khola. “Main bas apna charger dhoondh raha hoon.”

Rohan ne apne room se hi bola, “Permission lene ka concept suna hai?”

Kabir already andar tha. Rohan ka room, predictably, ek controlled disaster zone tha. Ek side clothes ka stack, table par half-eaten biscuit packet, aur chair ke upar ek hoodie aise latak rahi thi jaise usne life se resign kar diya ho. Kabir ne drawers khole. Pehla drawer—random cables. Dusra—old receipts, earphones, ek pen, aur ek charger. Kabir ne charger uthaya, dekha, aur turant bola, “Yeh mera nahi hai.”

Rohan door frame par khada tha. “Obviously. Main itna bhi villain nahi hoon.”

“Tumhara bag check karne do,” Kabir bol pada.

Rohan ne bag ko chest ke saamne pakad liya. “Nahi.”

Simran jo abhi tak door ke paas khadi thi, usne ek eyebrow raise ki. “Ab suspicious lag raha hai.”

Rohan ne haste hue kaha, “Arre yaar, isme bas meri editor wali life hai. Notes, headphones, tissues, and one existential crisis.”

Kabir ne step aage badhaya. “Bag do.”

“Why are you acting like airport security?” Rohan ne puchha.

“Because tumhara behavior suspicious hai.”

“Tumhara obsession suspicious hai.”

Simran ne beech mein bola, “बस कर लो. Agar charger mil bhi gaya toh tum dono same flat mein rehte ho, court mein nahi.”

Kabir ne ek sudden move kiya. Rohan ka bag uske shoulder se slip hua, aur floor par dhad se gira. Sab kuch ek second ko silent ho gaya. Phir zipper khul gaya.

Aur jo bahar nikla, usne literally scene change kar diya.

Charger. Do. Teen. Nahin—poora dher. Different colors, different sizes, phone chargers, laptop chargers, power bank cables, Type-C, old micro USB, even ek earphone cable jo kisi aur dimension se aayi lag rahi thi. Bag ke andar chargers ka mountain tha.

Kabir ka muh khula reh gaya. Simran ne ek step peeche liya. Rohan ne bas aankhon mein woh guilty-but-still-smiling expression liya, jo usko naturally aata tha.

Kabir ki awaaz bahut dheemi thi. “Yeh… kya hai?”

Rohan ne apna neck scratch kiya. “Okay. So. Minor explanation.”

Kabir almost hissed, “Minor?”

Simran folded arms. “Rohan, please tell me you are not a charger hoarder.”

Rohan ne ek nervous laugh diya. “Technically… hoarder word thoda harsh hai.”

Kabir ne ek charger uthaya. “Yeh mera hai. Yeh Simran ka hai. Yeh… yeh kiska hai?”

Rohan ne shoulder shrug kiya. “Mujhe yaad nahi.”

Kabir ka temper finally crack hua. “Tumhare bag mein mere, Simran ke, aur pata nahi kiske chargers ka mela laga hai, aur tum bol rahe ho yaad nahi?”

Rohan ne smile thodi slow kar di. “Okay, fine. Truth?”

Simran aur Kabir dono chup ho gaye.

Rohan ne thoda sa saans liya. “Main jaan-bujhkar chargers uthata hoon.”

Kabir blinked. “Kya?”

Rohan ne floor dekha. “Mujhe pata tha tum log notice karoge. Agar charger room mein nahi milega, toh tum log mere room mein aaoge. Kabhi chai ke bahane, kabhi gaali ke bahane, kabhi bas yeh dekhne ke liye ki main alive hoon ya nahi.”

Simran ka face soft hua, but she still looked confused. “Yeh kaisa logic hai?”

Rohan ne ek weak smile diya. “Main mostly bahut akela feel karta hoon, yaar. Freelance job hai, client calls random, friends busy, aur ghar se yahan aake bhi kabhi-kabhi lagta tha jaise main bas flat mein exist kar raha hoon, live nahi kar raha. Toh maine socha… agar tum log apne chargers dhoondhne mere room tak aaoge, toh thoda interaction ho jayega. Silly hai, I know.”

Kabir ko pehli baar bolne ke liye words nahi mile. Simran ne bhi apni posture soften ki. Rohan ka expression ab bhi usual funny tha, but uske eyes mein ek genuine loneliness thi jo un dono ne shayad pehli baar notice ki.

Kabir ne ek charger ko haath mein ghumaya. “Aur yeh sab?”

Rohan ne half-smile di. “Kabhi tumhara charger mere room mein, kabhi Simran ka. Main return karne ka plan banata tha… phir yaad nahi rehta. Aur phir sochta tha, ab toh tum log aa hi gaye ho, toh chhodo.”

Simran ne ek long breath li. “Rohan… yeh stupid tha.”

“Agree,” Kabir bol pada, phir thoda softer tone mein add kiya, “but… I get it. Thoda.”

Rohan ne surprise se Kabir ko dekha. “You do?”

Kabir ne side glance diya. “Main bhi kabhi-kabhi cheezein test karta hoon.”

Dono ne ek saath usko dekha. Kabir ne throat clear kiya. “Matlab… hardware status jaanne ke liye. Unofficially.”

Simran ka mouth ajar reh gaya. “Kabir, tum psycho ho.”

Kabir ne defensive tone mein kaha, “It’s called quality assurance.”

Rohan burst out laughing. “Bhai, tum dono hi weird ho. Main bas lonely hoon aur tum log secretly gadgets test karte ho.”

Simran ne ek hand forehead par rakha. “This flat is a disaster.”

Kabir ne chargers ko floor par neatly arrange karna start kiya, habit se. Phir usne rukkar Rohan ko dekha. “Par ab se, no stealing chargers. Agar interaction chahiye toh bolo. Hum sab yahin hain.”

Rohan ki smile genuine ho gayi. “Seriously?”

Simran ne uske bag ke paas baithkar ek charger uthaaya. “Haan. Aur agar tumhe baat karni hai toh coffee pe karenge. Chori pe nahi.”

Rohan ne softly kaha, “Deal.”

Usi waqt Kabir ka phone vibrate hua. Client call ten minutes mein. Usne apna charger check kiya. Simran ne apna charger uthaya. Rohan ne apne room ke kone se ek extension board nikala aur teenon ke chargers ko alag-alag label karne laga, jaise suddenly life mein peace aa gayi ho.

Kabir ne pehli baar bina tension ke smile ki. “Okay. New rule.”

Simran aur Rohan ne ek saath puchha, “Kya?”

Kabir ne bola, “Koi kisi ka charger nahi chhuega. Aur Sunday dinner mandatory.”

Rohan ne eyes wide karke puchha, “Dinner? Matlab proper? Flat wala?”

Simran ne apne bag ka strap shoulder par daala. “Haan. And not your sad instant noodles.”

Rohan ne dramatic hand on chest kiya. “This is the warmest threat I’ve ever received.”

Kabir ne lightly laugh kiya. “Aur agar kisi ko lonely feel ho, toh bas bol dena. Flat mein drama kam, communication zyada.”

Simran ne door ki taraf jaate hue ek rare smile di. “Wow. Kabir ne emotional maturity ka lecture de diya. World really is ending.”

Rohan ne uske peeche bola, “Dinner pe main dessert launga.”

Kabir ne eyebrow raise ki. “Tum? Dessert?”

Rohan grinned. “Haan, order karke.”

Simran ne finally full laugh ki. “Bas, yeh hui na flat ki asli energy.”

Us din shaam ko, teenon ne milkar dinner order kiya—Chinese, thoda North Indian, aur Rohan ki insistence par gulab jamun. Kabir ne chargers ek box mein sort kiye, Simran ne labels chipkaye, aur Rohan ne first time bina excuse ke living room mein baithkar unke saath chai pi. Flat jo subah tak battlefield lag raha tha, ab ek chhota sa home lagne laga tha.

Kabir ko samajh aa gaya ki har cheez control mein rakhna zaroori nahi hota. Kabhi-kabhi life charger ki tarah hoti hai—gayab ho jaati hai, phir kisi random bag se milti hai, aur tab pata chalta hai ki connection sirf wires se nahi, logon se banta hai.

Rohan ko bhi lag gaya ki attention lene ke liye cheezein chhupana zaroori nahi. Kabhi ek simple “chal chai pe baithte hain” hi kaafi hota hai. Aur Simran ne, jo hamesha work mode mein rehti thi, us raat pehli baar apne phone ko silent karke dinner ko properly enjoy kiya. Kabhi-kabhi balance ka matlab sirf calendar mein break dalna nahi hota—kabhi flatmates ke saath thoda sa hass lena bhi hota hai.

Aur uske baad, woh missing charger wala scene flat ki sabse famous story ban gaya. Har naye guest ko Rohan haste hue bolta, “Mere bag mein charger ka museum tha.” Kabir usko dekhkar sir hila deta, aur Simran bas ek warning smile deti, “Ek aur charger gayab hua na, main FIR likh dungi.”

Lekin ab ghar mein woh pehle wali cold silence nahi thi. Ab kisi ke room ka darwaza khula hota, koi bhi bina knock kiye chai le aata, aur kisi ke stress ka weight baaki do log half-joke, half-care se halka kar dete.

Delhi-NCR ki is tezi bhari life mein, un teenon ke flat ne ek simple si baat sikhayi—kabhi-kabhi sabse badi problem missing charger nahi hoti, missing connection hota hai.

Aur connection? Woh kabhi-kabhi ek broken routine, ek accidental bag drop, aur ek shared dinner se wapas mil hi jaata hai.

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