Thaka Hua

First Lab

Delhi ki garmi aur semester ki tension ka combination waise hi dangerous tha, aur us din lab mein meri partner ne bina dekhe bola—“Agar report fail hui na, main sach mein ro dungi.”

Main pehle toh hans diya. Phir uski taraf dekha. Sana Qureshi apne coat ki sleeves roll karke beaker set kar rahi thi, jaise uske haath nahi, uska dimaag kaam kar raha ho. Uske expression mein woh usual confidence tha jo log class mein enter hote hi pehen lete hain. Par us din uski aankhon ke neeche thodi si thakaan thi.

“Fail report se nahi hoti,” maine dheere se bola, “panic se hoti hai.”

Woh meri taraf dekh ke do second chup rahi, phir boli, “Wah. B.Sc. ke Einstein. Aaj toh aapne zindagi ka gyaan de diya.”

Maine shrug kiya. “Bas observation.”

Woh hansi. Aisi hansi jo thodi loud thi, thodi defensive. Lab mein baaki log apne-apne tubes aur notes mein uljhe hue the. Fan ki awaaz, glassware ki khanak, aur bahar corridor se aati kisi junior ki shouting—sab milke South Campus ke practical block ka usual chaos bana rahe the.

Main Aarav Mehra, final year B.Sc., aur honestly, meri zindagi ka default mode tha: observe karo, bolne se pehle socho, aur agar koi tension mein ho toh quietly kaam sambhal lo. Log mujhe calm bolte the. Main khud ko bas “theek” bolta tha.

Sana uska opposite lagti thi. Fast-talker, sharp jokes, constant energy. Par jab usne apna notebook khola, toh uske fingers ek second ke liye kaanp gaye. Main ne notice kiya. Usne notice nahi kiya ya pretend kiya ki notice nahi kiya.

“Okay,” usne briskly bola, “tum formulas yaad rakh lo, main measurements dekhti hoon. We can’t both be useless.”

“Agreed,” maine bola.

Hum dono ne kaam start kiya. Do alag personalities, ek hi bench. Bas us waqt mujhe itna laga ki usko control chahiye aur mujhe silence. Par shayad dono ko hi ek jaise cheez ki zarurat thi: koi aisa jo pressure ko naam de sake.

Deadline Season

Agli do hafton mein college ka har corridor ek race track ban gaya. Practical file submit karni thi, internal viva tha, assignment ka cover page bhi suddenly life-and-death issue ban gaya tha. South Delhi ki traffic, metro ki bheed, aur college ke gate pe chipkaye gaye notices—sab milke ek hi message de rahe the: jaldi karo, warna peeche reh jaoge.

Sana hamesha late aati thi, par us late aane mein bhi style hoti thi. Ek din woh canteen mein coffee lete hue boli, “Mujhe lagta hai meri life bhi Google Calendar pe jaani chahiye thi. Shayad at least woh mujhe remind kar deta ki main collapse hone wali hoon.”

Maine apne samose ka last bite liya. “Tum theek ho?”

“Obviously,” usne instant bol diya. “Main toh born ready hoon.”

Uska “born ready” usi tarah laga jaise meri “main theek hoon” — dono ka matlab tha, please aur mat poochho.

Main raat ko notes revise karta, formulas repeat karta, aur phone silent mode pe daal deta. Amma ke calls aate the. “Khaana khaya?” “Kuch rest kiya?” Main har baar bolta, “Haan, bas thoda busy hoon.” Sach yeh tha ki busy kam aur scattered zyada tha. Mind kabhi lab report pe, kabhi future pe, kabhi is baat pe atak jaata ki final year ke baad kya? M.Sc.? Job? Ghar ki expectations? Aur agar kuch clear nahi hua toh?

Sana bhi same pattern mein thi, bas uska version louder tha. Woh jokes mein chhup jaati, attendance ke beech panic karti, aur har practical ke pehle bolti, “Chill, ho jayega.” Phir usi practical ke baad uske face pe woh expression aata jo koi dekhna nahi chahta—jaise andar se koi string dheere-dheere khinch raha ho.

Ek din mock viva mein usse question ka answer nahi aaya. Woh hasa di, “Sir, aap ne jo pucha hai woh syllabus mein tha hi nahi.” Class hansi. Sir ne bhi half-smile kiya. But jab woh seat pe baithi, usne pen itni tight pakdi ki mujhe laga shayad break kar degi.

Maine kuch nahi kaha. Bas ek extra page uski side slide kar diya, jahan maine formula ka flowchart bana diya tha. Usne bina dekhte page le liya.

“Thanks,” usne bahut low voice mein bola.

Main ne pretend kiya ki sun nahi paaya.

Unplanned Confession

Woh evening late ho gayi thi. Lab block almost empty tha. Corridor ki lights aadhi off thi. Bahar peepal ke neeche autos ki line, aur distant road pe horn ka constant background. Main apni report ke graphs cross-check kar raha tha, Sana apne experiment ke results dekh rahi thi.

Phir achanak usne pen table pe patak diya.

“Yaar, bas,” woh boli.

Main ne head lift kiya. “Kya hua?”

“Sab kuch.” Usne laptop band kiya, forehead pe haath rakha. “Mera experiment bhi, mera assignment bhi, aur ghar pe kal jo call aayi thi—sab kuch.”

Main chup raha.

Woh hansi, par is baar us hansi mein mazaak nahi tha. “Maa ne bol diya ki cousin ke marks dekh ke mujhe bhi thoda serious hona chahiye. Papa ne bas yeh pucha ki ‘MBA ka socha hai ya abhi bhi science mein time waste kar rahi ho?’”

Main ne dheere se kaha, “That’s rough.”

“Rough?” Sana ne meri taraf dekha. “Aarav, main har din apne aap ko convince karti hoon ki main manage kar lungi. Subah uthke face pe confidence lagati hoon, class mein jokes maarti hoon, lab mein sabko lagta hai I’ve got it together. But honestly?” Uski voice thodi crack hui. “Main bas thak gayi hoon.”

Room ka noise jaise ekdum kam ho gaya. Main usko dekh raha tha, aur pehli baar uska sarcasm, uski speed, uski overconfidence ke peeche ka fear saaf dikh raha tha. Woh hurt thi. Aur itni der se thi ki shayad usko khud bhi aadat ho gayi thi.

Maine apni file side mein rakhi. “Tumhe lagta hai main nahi hoon?”

Woh blink ki. “Kya?”

“Thaka hua,” maine bola. “Main bhi hoon.”

Uske face pe surprise tha, jaise usne expect hi nahi kiya tha ki main apni taraf se kuch bolunga.

Maine ek saans li. “Main dusron ki help karta rehta hoon. Notes de do, formula samjha do, attendance ka scene dekh lo, practical cover kar do. Sab. Kyunki agar main kisi aur ke kaam mein busy rahunga, toh apne aap pe dhyaan nahi dena padega.”

Sana ne kuch nahi bola.

“Mujhe lagta tha bas kaam karta rahunga toh sab manage ho jayega,” maine continue kiya. “Par kabhi kabhi manage nahi hota. Bas postpone hota hai.”

Woh dheere se chair pe piche lean hui. “Okay. That was annoyingly relatable.”

Pehli baar us din uski smile genuine lagi.

Therapy in Between Experiments

Uske baad kuch change hua. Dramatic nahi. Bas subtle.

Ab hum practical se pehle 10 minute jaldi aa jaate. Lab bench pe baithke bina eye contact ke bhi baat kar lete. Canteen mein chai ke saath deadlines ka comedy show chalta. Metro se aate waqt, jab Yellow Line pe bheed itni hoti ki saans lena bhi negotiation lagta, tab hum apni anxiety ko bhi crowd mein adjust kar dete.

Ek din Rajiv Chowk se aate hue Sana ne apna backpack seedhe se shoulder pe shift kiya aur boli, “Mujhe lagta hai main imposter hoon.”

Maine eyebrow raise ki. “You? The girl jo har viva mein sir ko bhi out-talk kar deti hai?”

“Exactly.” Woh window se bahar dekhne lagi. “Sabko lagta hai main confident hoon. But agar ek din sabko pata chal gaya ki mujhe bas pretending aati hai toh?”

Maine bola, “Pretending bhi skill hoti hai. Par exhausting skill.”

Woh has di. “Tum philosopher kab se ban gaye?”

“College ne kar diya.”

Phir usne thodi der baad quietly pucha, “Tumhe darr kis baat ka lagta hai?”

Maine jawab dene mein delay kiya. Delhi ki metro ki metallic announcement background mein chal rahi thi. Kisi ne bag se water bottle nikaali. Kisi ka phone ring hua. Aur mere andar ka woh hissa jo usually locked rehta tha, thoda sa khul gaya.

“Ki main enough nahi hoon,” maine bola. “Na marks mein, na future mein, na ghar ke expectations mein.”

Sana ne meri taraf dekha. “Tum itne calm kaise rehte ho phir?”

Maine bina soche bol diya, “Calm nahi hoon. Bas show nahi karta.”

Usne softly nod kiya, jaise answer mil gaya ho.

Us din ke baad humne ek dusre ko fix karne ki koshish band kar di. Instead, hum bas check-in karte the. “Khaya?” “Soya?” “Aaj kitna panic level hai?” “7/10.” “Mera 8/10, please mujhe judge mat karna.”

Kabhi kabhi Neha Khanna bhi lab ya library mein mil jaati. Senior thi, practical about everything. Uski baat mein kindness kam aur clarity zyada hoti thi.

Ek baar Sana ne usse kaha, “Neha di, aap toh aise bolti ho jaise life ka har problem Excel sheet mein solve ho jayega.”

Neha ne bina smile kiye bola, “Mostly hota hai. Baaki ka therapy.”

Sana aur main dono ek second ke liye chup rahe.

Neha ne hume dekha, phir casually add kiya, “Aur haan, agar tum log bas ek dusre ko carry kar rahe ho bina khud help liye, toh woh friendship nahi, burnout ka group project hai.”

Woh line seedha lag gayi.

Mirror Effect

Mujhe dheere-dheere samajh aane laga ki Sana ka loudness noise nahi, armor tha. Aur mera calmness strength nahi, kabhi-kabhi escape.

Ek raat library mein, jab floor almost empty tha aur table lamps pe yellow light gir rahi thi, Sana ne apni practical file band ki aur bola, “Tu jab ‘theek hoon’ bolta hai na, mujhe lagta hai tu khud ko convince kar raha hota hai.”

Main ne usko dekha. “Aur tum jab joke maar deti ho, tum bhi same kar rahi hoti ho.”

Woh thodi der silent rahi. Phir halki si smile ke saath boli, “Annoying, but fair.”

Hum dono has diye. Phir hasna dheere-dheere band ho gaya, kyunki dono ko samajh aa gaya tha ki hum ek dusre ko dekh rahe the—really dekh rahe the.

Maine poocha, “Tumhe sabse zyada darr kis cheez ka hai?”

Woh kuch second sochti rahi. “Ki main disappoint kar dungi. Ghar ko bhi, khud ko bhi. Aur phir log kahenge ki dekha, itna attitude tha, par kaam kuch nahi aaya.”

Maine dheere se kaha, “People will always say something.”

“Tumhe?” usne poocha.

“Ki main boring hoon. Quiet hoon. Too serious hoon. Ya phir yeh ki main emotionally unavailable hoon.”

Sana ne side-eye diya. “Woh last wala toh thoda true hai.”

“Mujhe pata hai.”

Woh has padi. “Okay, fair.”

Us moment mein mujhe realize hua ki hamare stress ka shape alag tha, par weight same tha. Bas mera weight andar ki taraf dab raha tha, uska bahar se burn ho raha tha.

Pressure Breaks

Phir woh week aaya jo semester ka villain nikla. Lab report return hua. Viva bhi average se neeche gaya. Ek aur assignment me deadline miss hone ke aasaar.

Sana ka patience sabse pehle टूटा. Usne lab bench pe file zorr se rakhi. “Mujhse nahi ho raha yaar.”

Main ne uski taraf dekha. “Sana—”

“Nahi.” Uski aankhon mein paani tha, par voice me ab bhi fight thi. “Mujhe bas yeh mat bol ki sab theek ho jayega. Main sun sun ke thak gayi hoon.”

Main chup ho gaya.

Woh ek saans mein bolti rahi, “Mujhe lagta tha agar main strong dikhti rahungi toh sab manageable rahega. Par main strong nahi hoon. Main bas tired hoon. Aur agar main thoda bhi slow hui na, toh sab gir jayega.”

Mere gale mein kuch atak gaya. Kyunki woh mere hi words the, bas uski awaaz mein.

Maine bahut dheere bola, “Main bhi girne wala hoon.”

Woh meri taraf dekh ke freeze ho gayi.

“Main bhi mentally exhausted hoon,” maine admit kiya. “Raat ko neend nahi aati. Subah uthke laga rehta hai ki kuch miss kar raha hoon. Ghar jaake bhi lagta hai bas act kar raha hoon ki I’m okay.”

Sana ke chehre pe pehle shock, phir relief aaya. Jaise usne finally kisi aur ke haath mein bhi same weight dekh liya ho.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” usne pucha.

“Kyuki mujhe laga agar main bolunga toh weak lagunga.”

Woh hansi, par iss baar us hansi mein dard bhi tha. “Welcome to the club.”

Hum dono kuch der chup rahe. Lab mein machines ki low hum thi. Bahar monsoon ki pehli smell aa rahi thi, aur corridor mein kisi ne wet shoes ke saath floor pe nishaan chhod diye the.

Tab Neha aa gayi. Hum dono ko dekhke usne bas itna kaha, “Dono ka face dekh ke lag raha hai marks aane se pehle hi marks ne maar diya.”

Sana ne weak smile di. “Pretty much.”

Neha ne file uthayi, ek glance maara, aur seedha boli, “Listen. Stress normal hai. Isolation dangerous hai. Tum dono ko counselling try karni chahiye. College mein available hai.”

Main ne instinctively protest karna chaaha, par Neha ne haath uthaya.

“Sun lo pehle,” usne kaha. “Help lena drama nahi hota. Aur friend ko support karna bhi enough nahi hota jab tak professional support bhi na ho. Bas ek dusre ko sambhalte rehne se sab solve nahi hota.”

Sana ne meri taraf dekha. Main ne uski taraf.

Neha ki baat simple thi, par usme woh maturity thi jo late-night panic ko bhi line mein laa de.

Main ne slowly nod kiya. “Okay.”

Sana ne bhi, thoda hesitation ke baad, “Okay.”

Next Practical

Next practical same lab mein tha. Same benches, same Aur phir, us din ke baad Mohit ne pehli baar phone ko silent pe rakh ke apni maa ke saath chai pe baithna shuru kiya. Dadi ki tabiyat waise hi thi, kabhi theek, kabhi thodi kamzor, par unki baaton mein ab bhi wohi purani chamak thi. Ritu ne ghar aate hi jhagda karna band nahi kiya tha, bas uska tone soft ho gaya tha. Ab woh “tum kabhi samajhte hi nahi” bolne se pehle khud ek gehri saans leti thi.

Noida ke un 3BHK flats mein zindagi zyada glamorous nahi thi, par pehle se kam khali lagne lagi thi. Mohit subah metro pakadta, office se thak ke lautta, aur lift mein kisi unknown uncle ki “Beta, kidhar rehte ho?” wali baat pe pehle irritate hota, phir muskurane lagta. Delhi-NCR mein shayad yahi toh hota hai—sab ek doosre se thoda door, thoda connected, aur bahut zyada tired.

Ek Sunday ko, jab baarish ke baad ka namkeen sa mausam tha, Ritu ne kitchen mein aloo ke parathe banaye. Dadi ne paani ka glass uthate hue kaha, “Is ghar mein ab khane ki khushboo laut aayi.”

Mohit ne plate lete hue Ritu ki taraf dekha. “Aur shayad baaton ki bhi.”

Ritu ne bas muskurake aankhen ghuma di, par us smile mein pehli baar gussa kam aur apnapan zyada tha.

Shaam ko Mohit balcony mein khada tha. Neeche society ke bachche puddles mein pair maar rahe the, koi guard chai ki tapri ki taraf ja raha tha, aur door se metro line ka faint sa shor aa raha tha. Usne socha, life kisi bade revelation se nahi badli thi. Na office mein promotion aaya tha, na EMI kam hui thi, na traffic ne mercy dikhayi thi. Bas itna hua tha ki usne sunna shuru kar diya tha. Aur sunna, uske liye, pyaar ka sabse aasan aur sabse mushkil tareeka nikla.

Ritu andar se aayi, haath mein do cups ke saath. “Le, adrak wali chai.”

Mohit ne cup le liya. “Thanks.”

“Bas thanks?” Ritu ne eyebrow uthayi.

Mohit hansa. “Theek hai… tumhari chai se ghar ghar lagta hai.”

Ritu ne dheere se uske kandhe pe halka sa dhakka diya. “Ab aaya na line pe.”

Dadi andar se boli, “Arre, jhagda mat karo. Baarish ke baad aadmi soft ho jaata hai.”

Teenon has pade.

Aur us hasi mein, us baarish ki geeli mitti ki khushboo mein, aur balcony ke kone mein rakhe us purane paudhe ki hari pattiyaan hilti hui, Mohit ko laga jaise zindagi ne finally koi seedha jawab nahi, par ek theek sa raasta de diya ho.

Khatam