Shillong ki subah waise bhi thodi dramatic hoti hai—mist itni ki lagta hai kisi ne poora town cotton mein wrap kar diya ho. Ghar ke bahar paani ki boondon ke saath thandi hawa chal rahi thi, aur Reena Nongrum apni kitchen window ke paas khadi hoke tea ka first sip le rahi thi. Neeche gali mein Mrs. Marbaniang already active thi, jaise unke paas alarm clock nahi, neighborhood ka gossip radar ho.
Reena ne aankh band karke chai ka cup aur tight pakad liya. “Mami, pehle aap batao, aaj weather ka kya plan hai ya mere rishton ka?” usne khidki se hi shot maara.
Reena ne mann mein bola, haan haan, concern ka naam deke community theatre chal raha hai. Bahar se uska face practical aur sharp tha, lekin andar ek thakaan thi jo sirf woh jaanti thi. 34 saal ki ho chuki thi, school administrator ka kaam, part-time event planning, aur ghar mein har dusre din koi na koi relative uske liye “achha rishta” le aata tha. Sabko lagta tha woh independent hai, toh bas ab usko shaadi ki zarurat hi nahi hogi. Koi yeh nahi samajhta tha ki independence aur loneliness ek jaise nahi hote.
Usi waqt Joel andar aaya, café se uthkar seedha yahin ghus aaya tha, helmet haath mein aur camera neck pe latka hua. “Aunty ka opening line phir aa gaya kya?” usne grin karte hue pucha.
“Tumhari mami ka opening line hota hai, aur unka trailer bhi,” Reena boli.
Joel hansa. 27 ka tha, freelance photographer aur kabhi-kabhi café helper bhi. Mohalla mein sabko lagta tha woh bas mazaak karta hai, chill banda hai, kisi cheez ko seriously nahi leta. Lekin Reena jaanti thi—uski jokes ke neeche ek aur layer thi. Commitment ka darr. Rishton se bhaagne ka style. Har marriage discussion ko jokey banane ka talent jaise usne training mein liya ho.
“Chalo,” Joel bola, “aaj final experiment karte hain. Shaadi app pe proper profile banaate hain. Dekhte hain town mein ideal rishta kaun sa hota hai.”
Reena ne turant aankhen ghumayi. “Mujhe shaadi ki tension nahi hai, Joel.”
“Bilkul,” usne serious face banaya. “Aur main Pope hoon.”
Reena ne uski taraf biscuit ka packet phenka. “Fake profile banana tha, toh main ‘Ree’ banungi. Age thoda kam, hobbies thodi polished, aur ‘likes long walks’ type nonsense.”
Joel ne haath khade kiye. “Deal. Main bhi apna photo use nahi karunga. Bas koi generic handsome profile. Aunties ka radar confuse hona chahiye.”
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Unka plan simple tha: app ko research ke jaise use karenge. Samajh lenge ki log kaunse profiles pe react karte hain, phir family ke saamne bol denge, “Dekha? Humne market study kar li.” Reena ko lagta tha woh apni age aur independence ke liye judge hone se bach jayegi. Joel ko lagta tha woh aunty pressure se bach jayega. Dono ko nahi pata tha ki plan ka first rule hamesha yahi hota hai—jahan fake start ho, wahin drama aata hai.
Teen din baad, app pe ek match aaya. Evan Syiem. Profile bilkul polished: accountant, church volunteer, mountain treks, home-cooked food, family values, sensitive nature, no drama. Reena ne screen dekh ke ek second ke liye socha, yeh toh catalogue ka insaan lag raha hai. Lekin picture mein jo shant, neat sa face tha, usme ek realness bhi thi. Na over-smile, na hero pose. Bas ek simple, slightly awkward expression.
Joel ne phone dekha aur whistle maara. “Arre wah. Ye toh jackpot hai. Education bhi, stable bhi, family-oriented bhi. Aunties ka dream package.”
Reena ne thoda suspicious hoke kaha, “Too perfect.”
“Shillong mein perfect mil raha hai toh ya toh scam hai ya phir kisi auntie ka blessing,” Joel bola.
Unhone chat start ki. Reena, fake profile ke naam pe, thodi cautious thi. Evan ka tone surprisingly polite tha. Na cheesy pickup line, na overconfidence. Bas normal sawaal—work kya hai, weekends kaise spend karti ho, family close hai kya. Reena ko pehle irritation hui, phir halka sa comfort. Itna seedha insaan online milna rare tha.
Problem yeh hui ki Evan unke neighbouring family se nikla. Syiem family ka ghar bas do lane aage tha. Reena ko pehle laga coincidence hai, phir jab Joel ne uski profile picture aur surname match karaya, toh dono ka dimaag ek saath bandh ho gaya.
“Arre yaar,” Joel bola, “ye toh real-life surveillance ho gaya.”
“Tumne hi bola tha research,” Reena ne usko ghoora.
“Research mein itna close-up nahi hota,” Joel murmured.
Agli subah tea stall pe baat phail chuki thi. Mohalla ka logic toh vaise bhi rocket science se alag hota hai—kisi ne Reena ko Evan ke saath market mein dekha nahi, phir bhi sabko lagne laga engagement almost done hai. Mrs. Marbaniang ka to mood hi alag tha.
“Main toh keh hi rahi thi,” unhone chai ka cup table pe rakhte hue announce kiya, “Reena ko sahi age pe sahi ladka milna hi tha.”
Reena ne sir pe haath maara. “Mami, mujhe ladka nahi, privacy chahiye.”
“Privacy se ghar nahi chalta, beta,” mami ne full confidence se bola.
Joel side mein khada hoke itna serious dikh raha tha jaise woh kuch nahi jaanta. Lekin uski aankhon mein woh mischievous spark tha jo Reena pehchaan gayi. “Tu chup reh,” usne dheere se kaha.
Do din baad Evan ne chat mein ek line bheji: “Can we talk properly? I think there’s something odd about this profile.”
Reena ka stomach drop hua. Joel ne message padha aur seedha bol diya, “Pakde gaye.”
“Ab kya karu?” Reena ki voice pehli baar shaky thi.
“Sach bol,” Joel ne kaha, par uske chehre pe pehli baar mazaak nahi tha.
Reena ne lamba sa message type kiya. Fake name, fake age, fake profile—sab confess. Usne likha ki woh kisi ko fool karne ki niyat se nahi thi, bas har din ke judgment se thak chuki thi. “Log mujhe 34 ki, independent, unmarried aur thodi sharp dekh kar assume kar lete hain ki mujhe kisi ki zarurat nahi. Mujhe bas ek normal conversation chahiye thi, bina checklist ke.”
Message bhejne ke baad usne phone side mein rakh diya, jaise usme current aa gaya ho.
Evan ka reply thoda late aaya. “I understand the pressure. But being used as a test case feels humiliating.”
Reena ne aankhen band ki. Haan, yeh baat bhi sahi thi. Usne apni insecurity ko kisi aur ki dignity pe rakh diya tha. Ussi waqt Lila Syiem, Evan ki cousin aur neighborhood gossip queen, salon se direct ghar aayi. Uske haath mein hair clips, aur aankhon mein woh sparkle jo har mystery ko tea stall se pehle smell kar leti thi.
“Tum logon ka profile drama poora mohalla sun raha hai,” Lila ne entry lete hi bola. “Aur FYI, Evan bhi koi saint profile nahi tha. Usne apni photos thodi extra polished ki thi. Church volunteer wala angle zyada hi clean dikhaya tha.”
Reena ne surprised hoke dekha. “Matlab?”
Lila shoulders shrug karke boli, “Matlab town mein sabko perfect dikhna hai. Koi lonely nahi maanna chahta. Koi confused nahi maanna chahta. Koi bolta hi nahi ki usko bhi normal respect aur time chahiye.”
Usne phir ek aur bomb drop kiya. “Aur haan, Evan ko bhi aunty log ‘ideal boy’ bol bol ke thaka chuki hain. Usko lagta hai woh ek checklist ban gaya hai—salary, church, manners, family, future.”
Joel, jo ab tak side mein silent tha, pehli baar seedha bola, “Checklist toh main bhi hoon. Bas meri file mein ‘funny’ likh dete hain.”
Lila ne usko dekha aur pehli baar uski aankhon mein woh fake drama nahi tha. “Haan, aur tum jokes mein hide ho. Same problem, different packaging.”
Woh line Joel ko lag gayi. Reena ne bhi uski taraf dekha. Itne saalon se woh sabko laugh karke manage kar raha tha, par commitment ka darr uske jokes mein chhupa tha. Shaadi ke pressure ko mazaak bana dena aasaan tha, but sach bolna nahi.
Shaam ko Evan ne Reena ko face-to-face milne ke liye kaha. Na café, na church gate, na family living room. Bas school ke paas ek quiet bench, jahan thandi hawa chal rahi thi aur mist trees ke beech se aa rahi thi. Reena wahan pahunchi toh Evan already khada tha, hands in pockets, thoda awkward, lekin rude nahi.
“Hi,” usne kaha.
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Dono ke beech kuch seconds ka silence raha. Phir Evan bola, “I was angry. But I also get why you did it. I over-polished my profile too. I wanted to look acceptable. Not necessarily real.”
Reena ne uski taraf dekha. “Main perfect woman banne ka pressure nahi jhel pa rahi thi. Har koi bolta hai, ‘age dekh lo,’ ‘independent ho,’ ‘settle down.’ Jaise main koi pending file hoon.”
Evan ne faint smile diya. “And I’m tired of being treated like a marriage option, not a person.”
Woh baat dono ke beech seedha land kar gayi. Na filmi music, na dramatic rain. Bas ek honest conversation. Reena ko pehli baar laga ki shayad compatibility profile ke filters se nahi, awkward honesty se milti hai. Evan perfect nahi tha. Reena bhi nahi. Aur shayad isi mein relief tha.
Usi raat Mrs. Marbaniang ne poore ghar mein announcement mode on kar diya tha. “Main toh keh rahi hoon, ab baat pakki hai. Dono families milke…”
Reena ne unki baat cut ki. “Mami, kuch pakka nahi hai.”
“Kaise nahi hai?” mami ka tone instantly offended. “Log bol rahe hain…”
“Log,” Reena ne calmly bola, “hamari zindagi ke owner nahi hain.”
Silence ho gaya. Joel ne ek kone se dekha. Lila bhi wahin thi, aur usne pehli baar gossip queen mode ko side mein rakhkar serious expression diya. “Aunty,” usne softly kaha, “pressure se relationship nahi banta. Bas trust toot-ta hai.”
Mrs. Marbaniang ka face dheere dheere soften hua. Unki aankhon mein woh old fear tha jo Reena pe pehle samajh nahi aaya tha. “Main bas tumhe akela nahi dekhna chahti thi,” unhone dheere se kaha. “Family mein aurat logon ne bahut compromise kiya hai. Main nahi chahti thi tum bhi wahi repeat karo.”
Reena ka gussa ek second ke liye pighal gaya. Woh samajh gayi. Mami ka pressure sirf control nahi tha; uske peeche dar bhi tha. Dar ki Reena kahin compromise karke apni roshni na kho de.
Joel ne usi waqt gehri saans li aur bola, “Aur main? Main jokes mein isliye hide hota tha kyunki mujhe lagta tha serious relationship ka matlab hi loss hai. But sach yeh hai, I don’t want casual forever. I want someone with whom I can be honest, not just entertaining.”
Sab uski taraf dekh rahe the. Joel, jo hamesha punchline hota tha, pehli baar apni line ka subject ban gaya tha. Uske chehre pe embarrassment tha, but relief bhi. Jaise koi weight finally rakh diya ho.
Reena ne phone uthaya aur app delete nahi ki. Bas usne profile edit ki. Fake age gayi, fake bio gaya. Usne likha: “Practical, slightly tired, loves tea, hates nonsense, looking for someone honest.” Itna simple. Itna real.
Evan ne bhi apni profile change ki. No polished mountain pose, no overdone lines. Bas ek normal photo aur ek honest bio: “Quiet at first, better in person, not looking for perfection.”
Lila ne jab updated profiles dekhe, toh usne taali bajayi. “Finally, human beings.”
Mohalla ne gossip karna band nahi kiya. Wo toh impossible tha. Par tone badal gaya. Ab aunties ka confidence thoda kam, aur curiosity thodi zyada honest thi. Mrs. Marbaniang bhi ab kisi ladki ko dekh ke seedha rishta discuss nahi karti thi. Pehle poochti thi, “Khush ho ya sirf set ho?”
Reena ne ek din subah chai ke saath balcony se neeche dekha. Mist same thi, lane same thi, log same the. Bas uske andar ka pressure thoda kam ho gaya tha. Usne kisi ko impress karne ke liye perfect woman banna band kar diya tha. Ab woh bas Reena thi—thodi sharp, thodi tired, par apni life ki owner.
Joel uske paas aakar khada hua. “Sorry,” usne quietly bola.
Reena ne uski taraf dekha. “Next time prank karna ho, toh pehle khud ke emotions pe karo.”
Joel hansa, phir serious ho gaya. “Noted. Aur thanks… mujhe bhi yaad dilane ke liye ki main sirf funny banda nahi hoon.”
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Reena ne cup uthaya. “Haan re, yeh toh pata chal gaya.”
Dono hansi, aur Shillong ki thandi hawa mein pehli baar woh laughter light nahi, safe laga.
Aur bas, isi tarah mohalla ko ek lesson mila—thoda late, thoda awkward: shaadi ka pressure insaan ko jodta nahi, bas uski asli baat chhupa deta hai. Real compatibility showy profiles se nahi, honest conversations se aati hai. Aur jab tak community har kisi ki life ko public project samajhti rahegi, tab tak drama toh milega, par sukoon nahi.
Storydilse ke pyaare readers, itna saath dene ke liye dil se thank you. Aapka pyaar, time, aur stories se connection hi hamari asli strength hai. Aise hi padhte rahiye, feel karte rahiye, aur apni life ki stories ko bhi sachchai ke saath jeete rahiye.
