Sound Check, Sach Aur Saansein

Kohima ke us village road par shaadi ka scene bilkul festival jaisa tha. Pahadon ke beech se thandi hawa aa rahi thi, aur us thand ke beech DJ ka bass aise ghoom raha tha jaise poora gaon ek hi beat pe dhadak raha ho. Baraat aa chuki thi, log nayi shaadi ke kapdon mein chamak rahe the, aur mandap ke side mein Semo Chishi apna mixer board set kar raha tha — bilkul waise hi jaise koi doctor emergency theatre mein instruments check karta hai.

Semo ki age 42 thi, chehre pe extra expressions kam aur kaam zyada. Uska style simple tha: dekhna, samajhna, aur phir bina drama ke kaam nipta dena. Gaon mein log usko “main dekh lunga” wala aadmi bolte the. Aur sach bhi yahi tha. Agar mic mein feedback aaya, woh theek. Agar generator ne nakhre kiye, woh theek. Agar baarat wale uncle ne volume pe complaint ki, woh bhi theek. Semo ke paas har problem ka ek hi answer hota tha — “Arre, ho jayega.”

Uske saath uska bhatija Ato Chishi tha, 24 saal ka full-time dhol player aur part-time DJ assistant. Ato ka nature bilkul spark plug jaisa tha — jhat se jalta, jhat se phat-ta, aur phir khud hi panic mein doob jaata. Usko lagta tha ki life mein har cheez ka response turant dena chahiye, warna scene kharab ho jaata hai. Semo usko har baar bolta, “Ato, pehle saans le, phir bol.” Aur Ato har baar bolta, “Cha-cha, saans lene ka time hi nahi hai, problem already chal rahi hai.”

Aaj bhi wahi hua. Ato ne dhol ka strap theek se adjust bhi nahi kiya tha ki speakers mein se ek tez si hiss aayi. Usne turant aankhen phaila di. “Cha-cha! Feedback! Feedback aa gaya!” Semo ne bina dekhe kaha, “Volume thoda neeche kar.” “Par kaise?” Ato ne almost cheekh ke bola, “Aur agar mic phat gaya toh?” “Mic phat-ta nahi hai, Ato. Tu phat jaata hai,” Semo ne calmly jawab diya.

Log hans pade. Baraat ke kuch ladke already nach rahe the, aur bride-side ki aunties mandap ke paas gossip ka live commentary chala rahi thi. Village mein shaadi ka matlab sirf shaadi nahi hota; woh ek full-time public event hota hai jahan sabka mood, sabka opinion, aur sabki nazar included hoti hai.

Tabhi, bheed ke ek kone se ek ladki nikalti hui dikhi.

Woh seedha nahi chal rahi thi. Jaise uske pair zameen pe the hi nahi, bas kisi ne usko upar se neeche tak force karke bheja ho. Dupatta theek se sambhla hua nahi tha, saans tez thi, aur aankhon mein aisi thakan thi jo makeup se cover nahi hoti. Woh sound tent ke peeche aa kar ruk gayi, aur bas itna boli, “Mujhe yahan se thodi der chhupa lo.”

Semo ne pehle usko dekha, phir uske haath dekhe jo kaanp rahe the, phir uski aankhon ko dekha. Usne zyada sawal nahi kiye. Bas ek step side hoke bola, “Andar aa jao.”

Ato, jo hamesha har cheez ko film samajh leta tha, ek second ke liye freeze ho gaya. Uske dimaag mein seedha elopement, secret lover, aur village scandal ke full trailer chalne lage. “Cha-cha,” woh dheere se bola, “yeh… yeh kya scene hai?” Semo ne usko ek warning look diya. “Abhi scene mat bana.” Ladki ne sirf itna kaha, “Please.”

Semo ne usko speaker trailer ke side mein khade ek tarpaulin ke neeche baitha diya. Wahan se thandi hawa kam aati thi, par logon ki nazron se thodi protection mil jaati thi. Ato ne apne aap ko kaam mein busy dikhane ke liye mic check start kar diya, lekin uska haath kaanp raha tha. Usne bina soche bol diya, “Generator issue hai, bhai. Sound check thoda ruk gaya.” Phir dusri taraf se kisi ne pooch liya, “Kya hua?” Ato ne aur panic mein bol diya, “Nahi nahi, bas… DJ pause. Emotional break.” Semo ne aankh band karke ek lambi saans li. “Bas kar,” usne dabbi hui awaaz mein kaha, “Tu help kar raha hai ya funeral announce?”

Par Ato ka already damage control mode active ho chuka tha. Usne socha agar sabko lagega ki koi technical problem hai, toh koi jyada paas nahi aayega. Lekin problem yeh thi ki uski half-baked explanation ne ulta interest aur badha diya. Do teen aunties ne sun liya aur unka radar turant on ho gaya. “Arre, sound ke paas kya chal raha hai?” “Generator ka kya scene hai?” “Woh ladki kaun hai?” “Aur yeh DJ wale itne tense kyun lag rahe hain?”

Gaon mein rumor ka speed 5G se bhi zyada hota hai. Bas thodi der mein baat aise phail gayi jaise sound tent ke peeche koi secret hotline chal rahi ho. Koi bol raha tha Semo aur Ato kisi love marriage ko cover kar rahe hain. Koi keh raha tha bride bhaag gayi hai. Koi toh yeh bhi bol gaya ki DJ wale hi asli mastermind hain. Ato ne jab yeh suna toh uska chehra aise utra jaise uski dhol ki skin phat gayi ho.

Bride side ka elder uncle, jo already apne aap ko shaadi ka guardian saint samajhta tha, full rage mode mein aa gaya. 55 saal ka woh aadmi, shaadi ke kapdon se zyada apni authority ko polish karke aaya tha. Usne seedha Semo ki taraf ungli ki. “Tum log kya kar rahe ho? Hamari shaadi mein gadbad? Kya chhupa rahe ho?” Semo ne shaant awaaz mein kaha, “Uncle, bas thoda time dijiye.” “Time?” uncle ka voice aur tez ho gaya, “Shaadi mein time? Izzat ka sawaal hai!” Ato ne beech mein bolne ki koshish ki, “Actually, sound—” “Tu chup kar!” uncle ne usko kaat diya. “DJ wale hamesha smart bante hain.”

Ussi waqt tarpaulin ke neeche se Meren khadi hui. Woh 23 saal ki thi, aur uski aankhon mein koi melodrama nahi tha. Bas ek thandi, clear exhaustion thi. Jaise woh already bahut kuch dekh chuki ho aur ab aur dekhne ki himmat nahi bachi ho. Usne crowd ko dekha, phir uncle ko, phir Semo ko. Aur fir bahut seedhi awaaz mein boli, “Main bhaagi nahi hoon kisi ladke ke saath.”

Sab chup.

Meren ne ek pal ke liye saans li, phir bola, “Main is shaadi se bhaagi hoon. Mujhse poocha nahi gaya tha. Mujhe bas bataya gaya tha. Aur jab maine mana kiya, kisi ne suna hi nahi.”

Aunty log jo ab tak gossip ko oxygen de rahi thi, ekdum silent ho gayin. Ato ka muh khula reh gaya. Semo ne bhi pehli baar genuinely kuch nahi bola. Usko laga tha ki woh sirf ek job handle kar raha hai, but ab samajh aa raha tha ki yeh situation sound system se kaafi badi thi.

Elder uncle ne turant defensive tone pakad li. “Yeh ghar ki baat hai. Is tarah public mein—” Meren ne usko beech mein rok diya. “Public mein hi toh sab kuch hua hai, uncle. Ghar ke andar kisi ne meri nahi suni. Ab kam se kam yahan sun lijiye.”

Ato, jo ab tak clown ban raha tha, achanak seedha ho gaya. Usne dhol side mein rakha aur aage aake bola, “Uncle, ek second. Ye koi scandal nahi hai. Ye koi item scene nahi hai. Ye ek insaan hai. Aur is insaan ne dar ke saath yahan se bhaagna choose kiya, because uski marzi ko kisi ne count hi nahi kiya.”

Uski awaaz pehle jaisi loud thi, par is baar usme mazaak nahi tha. Wahan pe pehli baar usne serious hona choose kiya. Semo ne uski taraf ek nazar dali — surprise bhi tha, aur thoda proud bhi. Ato ne zindagi mein pehli baar “chacha ka assistant” se aage nikal kar khud bol diya tha.

Tab village women’s group ki leader, Rani aunty, aage aayi. Woh 38 ki thi, aur uski aankhen kisi CCTV camera se kam nahi thi. Woh har cheez notice karti thi — kaun kaise baat kar raha hai, kaun chup hai, kaun darr raha hai. Log usko nosy bolte the, par asal mein woh women ke silence ko sabse pehle samajh leti thi. Usne Meren ko dekha aur soft voice mein pucha, “Beta, tu apni marzi se bol rahi hai?”

Meren ne ek second ke liye sir hilaaya. Phir bola, “Haan.”

Bas itna kaafi tha. Rani aunty ne crowd ki taraf mud kar kaha, “Toh phir sab log thoda side ho jao. Ladki bol rahi hai. Pehle sun lo, phir judge karna.”

Koi bhi uss tone se argue nahi kar saka. Gaon ki auratein, jo ab tak whisper mode mein thi, ek-ek karke aage aane lagi. Kisi ne Meren ko paani diya. Kisi ne uske dupatte ko theek kiya. Kisi ne bas uske kandhe pe haath rakh diya — woh silent support jo kabhi-kabhi sabse zyada loud hota hai.

Meren ne phir seedha bola, “Mujhe padhne do, kaam karne do, apni life khud decide karne do. Main bhaag kar drama nahi kar rahi. Main bas woh life nahi jeena chahti jahan mera haan ya na kisi ko matter hi na kare.”

Woh line sunte hi mandap ke paas ek ajeeb sa silence utar aaya. DJ ka music band ho chuka tha. Dhol bhi chup tha. Bas pahadon ki hawa aur logon ki saansein sunai de rahi thi. Semo ko tab samajh aaya ki uska kaam sirf sound chalana nahi tha. Kabhi-kabhi sound band karke bhi insaan ko sunna padta hai.

Elder uncle ne ab bhi apni ego bachane ki koshish ki. “Log kya kahenge?” Rani aunty ne turant jawab diya, “Log toh waise bhi kahenge. Aap logon ne ab tak unko free subscription de rakha hai.” Kuch auratein hansi, aur tension ka pressure thoda sa kam hua. Ato ne dheere se kaha, “Uncle, honestly, log jo kahenge woh kal tak yaad bhi nahi rakhenge. Par yeh jo ladki bol rahi hai na, yeh yaad rakhegi.”

Semo ne finally ek kadam aage badhkar situation ko control karna chaha, lekin is baar control ka matlab force nahi tha. Usne bride’s family ko dekha aur bola, “Aap log usse khud bolne dijiye. Agar uski marzi nahi hai, toh shaadi aage badhana theek nahi hoga. Main sound band kar deta hoon. Baaki jo karna hai, shaanti se kar lo.”

Uncle ne usko ghoora, par uske paas ab loudness ke alawa kuch bacha nahi tha. Village women already Meren ke around ek protective ring bana chuki thi. Bheed ka mood badal gaya tha. Jo log pehle scandal dhoondh rahe the, ab reality ke saamne uncomfortable ho rahe the.

Shaadi wahi ruk gayi. Baraat ka mood kharab hua. Koi mithai khane ke mood mein nahi tha. DJ setup band ho gaya. Ato ne mic ko dheere se switch off kiya, jaise woh kisi ka dil band kar raha ho. Phir usne Meren ko dekha aur bina kisi joke ke bas bola, “Tu akeli nahi hai.”

Meren ne pehli baar uski taraf dekhkar halka sa nod kiya. Woh smile nahi thi, par uske face pe ek tiny relief tha. Jaise koi aadmi pehli baar kisi room mein bina permission ke saans le paaya ho.

Baad mein, sabke saamne, Meren ne clearly bol diya ki woh yeh shaadi continue nahi karegi. Usne koi lambi speech nahi di. Na royi, na dramatic hui. Bas itna kaha, “Mujhe meri life ka decision lene ka haq chahiye.” Aur woh sentence kisi bhi dhol se zyada powerful tha.

Us din ke baad gaon mein ek ajeeb sa joke chal pada — “sound tent ke paas illegal love hotline thi.” Log hans bhi dete, par pehli baar us joke ke neeche ek serious question bhi chhupa hota: “Kya ladki ne haan bola tha?” Ye question pehle koi poochta hi nahi tha. Ab poocha ja raha tha. Aur yahi change tha.

Semo ne us raat ghar jaate hue zyada kuch nahi bola. Ato uske saath chup-chaap chal raha tha, jo uske liye rare tha. Thodi der baad usne dheere se pucha, “Cha-cha, humne sahi kiya na?” Semo ne pahadon ki taraf dekhte hue kaha, “Safe nahi tha. But sahi tha.” Ato ne usko dekha. “Yeh line toh main status mein daalunga.” Semo ne pehli baar usko dekhkar almost smile ki. “Pehle spelling check kar lena.”

Dono hans pade. Aur us hasi mein relief bhi tha, thakaan bhi, aur ek naya samajh bhi — ki kabhi-kabhi responsible hona sirf rules nibhana nahi hota. Kabhi dignity ko bachana bhi duty hoti hai. Semo ko life mein pehli baar laga ki usne kisi ko bas “manage” nahi kiya, balki sahi waqt pe insaan ki tarah support kiya.

Ato ke liye woh din turning point tha. Usne samjha ki loud hone ka matlab immature hona nahi hota, aur serious hone ka matlab boring hona nahi. Kabhi-kabhi jo banda sabse zyada jokes karta hai, wahi crowd ke saamne sabse sach bol sakta hai. Meren ke liye bhi woh din naya start tha — escape se zyada, expression ka. Woh bhaagi nahi thi; woh apni awaaz le kar aayi thi.

Aur Rani aunty? Woh toh gaon ki unofficial truth minister ban gayi. Usne gossip ko scandal se support system mein badal diya. Agle hafte se hi village mein auratein shaadi se pehle ladkiyon se alag se baat karne lagi. “Haan hai ya nahi, clearly bolna,” Rani aunty ka naya mantra ban gaya.

Kohima ki us thandi shaam mein DJ ka bass band ho gaya tha, lekin ek aur cheez start ho gayi thi — ek uncomfortable, messy, par zaroori conversation. Aur kabhi-kabhi wahi asli music hota hai.

Storydilse ke pyare readers, itna sa time nikaal kar is kahani ko padhne ke liye dil se thank you. Aapka support hi hamare liye sabse bada motivation hai. Aise hi pyaar dete rahiye, aur hum aapke liye aur bhi dil se likhi hui kahaaniyan laate rahenge. Dhanyavaad aur phir milte hain ek naye story ke saath!