**Joke Ya Junoon**

Hall mein zor ka laughter hua. Imran ne side glance kiya. Kamla Bua ka chehra halka sa khila hua tha. Unki aankhon mein woh smile thi jo shabdon se pehle aati hai.

Set khatam hua toh kuchh seconds ka silence, phir applause. Host ne uske shoulder pe tap kiya. “Good one, man. Raw hai, but real hai. Keep going.”

Imran stage se utar kar directly Bua ke paas gaya. Bua ne usse kuchh nahi kaha. Bas uske haath mein ek cold water bottle thama di.

“Paani pee,” woh boli. “Aur yaad rakh, mic pe awaaz kamzor nahi honi chahiye. Breathing improve kar. Aur next time family jokes mein chacha ka nose mat target karna. Woh already naturally funny hain.”

Imran has diya. “Aapne suna?”

“Poora suna,” Bua boli. “Aur ek baat aur—tu joke nahi kar raha tha. Tu sach bol raha tha. Bas usmein timing acchi thi.”

Imran ke andar jo guilt ka knot tha, woh dheere-dheere khul gaya. Usne pehli baar samjha ki comedy uska escape nahi, uska language hai. Woh khud ko explain karne ka tareeka tha. Aur jab family pressure, fear, aur confusion ko words mil gaye, toh unka weight thoda kam ho gaya.

Ghar wapas aake bhi sab suddenly fairy-tale style change nahi hua. Chacha ab bhi kabhi-kabhi muh banate the. Relatives ab bhi “settle” word ko holy scripture ki tarah use karte the. Par ab Kamla Bua har baar seedha bol deti, “Settled ka matlab sirf salary nahi hota. Kabhi-kabhi settled ka matlab hota hai banda khud se sach bol raha hai.”

Ammi ne bhi ek din chai dete hue kaha, “Mujhe pehle lagta tha tum bas time-pass kar rahe ho. Ab lagta hai tum apna raasta dhoond rahe ho.” Yeh line Imran ke liye kisi award se kam nahi thi.

Aur Kamla Bua? Woh ab bhi strict thi. Ab bhi time pe uthati thi. Ab bhi bolti thi ki “late-night writing ke chakkar mein health mat bigaad.” Par ab unki strictness mein support tha, control nahi. Woh Imran ki first real mentor ban chuki thi—aisi mentor jo motivational speech nahi deti, par zarurat padne pe poori family ke saamne khadi ho jaati hai.

Imran ne uske baad aur shows kiye. Har baar thoda better, thoda sharper, thoda more himself. Aur har baar stage pe jaane se pehle uske phone pe Bua ka message aata: “Aaj bakwaas mat karna. Strong opening. Mid set tight. End pe pause lena. Aur haan, audience ko respect dena. Good luck.”

Imran har baar woh message padh ke smile karta. Kyunki usse pata tha—ghar mein uske liye ek aisi awaz mil gayi hai jo sirf “safe” nahi, “true” bhi bolti hai.

Aur shayad life ka yahi sabse bada open mic tha—jab family ne pehli baar kisi dream ko joke samajhna band kiya, aur kisi ne finally kaha: “Try kar. Main hoon na.”

Storydilse ke pyaare readers, itna saath dene ke liye dil se thank you. Aapki padhne ki aadat aur pyaar hi humari stories ko zinda rakhta hai. Aise hi storydilse ke saath jude rahiye, aur apna dher saara pyaar banaye rakhiye.