Tia aur Meren ki Drumline

Subah ka market Nagaland ke chhote se town mein hamesha ek alag hi mood le kar aata tha. Sabzi wale ki awaaz, fish stall ki smell, raincoat pehne log, aur beech-beech mein kisi radio se purana song—sab milke ek aisa scene banate the jisme time thoda slow aur zinda dono lagta tha. Tia Chishi ko yeh routine bilkul pasand nahi tha, aur sach bolun toh woh khud bhi routine jaisi cheez kabhi seriously follow nahi karti thi. College chhod diya tha, ghar mein log usse “talent waste kar rahi hai” bolte the, aur woh bas kandhe uchka ke market mein tins uthati, crates shift karti, aur dhoop mein bhi attitude leke chalti.

Meren Aier uske bilkul opposite thi. Chup, steady, aur aise observe karti thi jaise har scene ka second version dimaag mein record ho raha ho. Tailoring shop mein kaam karti thi, shaam ko church choir mein gaati thi, aur family ke kaam mein sabki “adjust karne wali” cousin bani rehti thi. Tia aur Meren ka bond normal cousin bond se zyada tha—best friends jaisa, jisme zyada bolne ki zarurat hi nahi hoti. Ek ki aankh ka ishara dusri samajh leti thi. Aur market ke us corner mein, jahan old drums ke beats kabhi festival rehearsals ke liye bajte the, dono ke andar ek ajeeb si itching shuru ho chuki thi.

Pehle idea bas mazaak tha. Tia ne ek din bola, “Yaar, itna tamasha hota hai market mein, hum hi kuch karte hain na. Drum band type.” Meren ne pehle has diya. “Hum? Drum band? Tia, tu serious hai ya phir kal ka stress bol raha hai?” Tia ne ek broken tin can ko table pe thok diya aur bola, “Arre, serious bhi aur thoda pagal bhi. Dono.” Us din se dono ne market ke empty hours mein rhythm test karna shuru kiya. Old tins, ek borrowed drum, school practice room ka half-open gate, aur kabhi bicycle repair shop ke piche khade hokar tapping—bas yahi tha unka secret project.

Alem, jo bicycle repair karta tha aur khud se drum seekha hua tha, unke project ka third eye ban gaya. Woh hamesha funny tone mein bolta, “Main sirf time pass ke liye help kar raha hoon haan. Zyada emotional mat hona.” Par sach yeh tha ki usse bhi kisi group ka part banna tha. Town mein sab usko “the bike guy” bolte the, jaise uske paas naam ke alawa kuch aur ho hi nahi. Tia ne pehli baar usse bola, “Tu beat pakad leta hai. Bas itna hi kaafi hai.” Alem ne us din extra serious face bana liya, par uske kaan thode red ho gaye the.

Grandma, ya sabke liye Apong, sab kuch dekh rahi thi. Woh zyada bolti nahi thi, par jab bolti thi, toh ek line mein pura scene khol deti thi. Tia aur Meren jab bhi practice ke baad thak ke uske paas baithti, woh bas unke haath aur aankhon ko dekh kar samajh jaati ki aaj rhythm sahi thi ya jhagda hua hai. Aur aunty Vezokhono? Woh toh family ki reputation ki full-time guardian thi. Uski nazar mein market mein drums bajana, aur woh bhi ladkiyon ka, ek aisa idea tha jo seedha “log kya kahenge” wali file mein jaata tha.

Ek din town mein announcement hua—local cultural event aur market festival ke liye. Organizer log bol rahe the ki “something authentic” chahiye, but modern touch ke saath, taaki crowd aaye. Tia ka dimag turant chal gaya. “Yeh toh humare liye hai.” Meren ne caution mode on kiya. “Ya toh humare liye hai, ya humare liye disaster hai.” Tia ne bina zyada soche band registration form bhar diya. Meren ne form dekha, phir Tia ka face, aur phir ek deep breath li. “Tu pagal hai,” woh boli, “par main tere saath hoon. Bas family ko dhang se bolenge.”

Tia ne hansi uda di. “Family ko dhang se bolenge? Tia aur dhang se? That’s not my brand.” Meren ne usse ghura, lekin uski smile nikal aayi. Dono ne socha tha ki thoda drama hoga, thodi daant padegi, bas. Par unhone underestimate kiya tha town ke gossip network ko. Market mein kisi ne dekh liya, phir kisi aur ne suna, phir third person ne extra masala add kar diya. Do din mein yeh news har ghar ke chai cup tak pahunch chuki thi: “Vezokhono ki beti aur mausi ki beti drum band bana rahi hain.”

Auntie Vezokhono ka reaction exactly waise hi tha jaise dono ne dar ke maare imagine kiya tha, bas thoda zyada sharp. “Yeh kya circus hai?” unhone seedha pucha. “Market mein drum bajana? Ladkiyon ko? Family ka naam kya banega?” Uncle Roko, jo market mein sabse loud aur sarcastic insaan tha, usne toh haath jod ke natak kiya. “Bas ab yahi baaki tha. Ab humare ghar ka future tambourine le ke niklega?” Woh khud has raha tha, par uski hasi ke neeche tension chhupi thi. Usko change se zyada, change ke baad logon ke reaction se darr lagta tha.

Tia ka temper seedha uth gaya. “Aap logon ko problem kya hai? Hum koi chori thodi kar rahe hain.” Auntie Vezokhono ka face aur sakht ho gaya. “Chori nahi kar rahi, par izzat ka kya?” Tia ne almost cheekh kar bola, “Izzat sirf chup rehne se nahi banti!” Meren ne beech mein bolne ki koshish ki, par Tia already fire mode mein thi. Us raat ghar mein itni thand si silence thi ki fan ki awaaz bhi awkward lag rahi thi.