Part-1: Wo Pehli Galti
Agar main honestly bolun… toh meri zindagi kisi ek bade accident se nahi badli.
Wo badli ek chhoti si galti se. Ek aise jhoot se jo us waqt normal laga… par dheere-dheere meri aadat ban gaya.
Main 10 saal ka tha. Class 5.
School ki building purani thi, deewaron par paint utra hua, aur ground mein mitti zyada, grass kam. Main koi special bachcha nahi tha. Na topper, na class ka clown. Bas beech mein. Aisa student jisko teachers kabhi yaad nahi rakhte.
Us hafte Maths ka unit test hua tha. Fractions aur decimals. Mujhe pata tha maine padhai nahi ki. Pichhle teen din main cricket khelta raha tha. Har baar ki tarah mujhe laga tha — "Exam ke din thoda dekh lunga."
Par exam hall mein baithte hi samajh aa gaya tha ki is baar dekhna kaafi nahi hoga.
Result wale din jab teacher copies baant rahi thi, class mein ajeeb sa silence tha. Fan ki awaaz bhi loud lag rahi thi. Mere haath thande ho rahe the.
"Roll number 27."
Main khada hua. Copy li.
Upar red ink se likha tha — 23/100
Mujhe laga jaise kisi ne pet mein punch mara ho.
Teacher ne neeche likha tha: "Careless. Needs seriousness."
Careless.
Wo word mere dimaag mein ghus gaya.
Peeche se halki si hasi aayi. Kisi ne dheere se bola, "Bhai fail ho gaya."
Maine pretend kiya mujhe farq nahi padta. Par pad raha tha. Bahut pad raha tha.
Ghar ka rasta us din lamba laga. Har step pe ek hi sawaal —
"Mummy ko kya bolunga?"
"Papa kya kahenge?"
Papa ka ek dialogue hamesha yaad rehta tha:
"Galti karo, par sach mat chhupao."
Irony dekho… us din main exactly wahi karne wala tha.
Ghar pahucha. Mummy kitchen mein thi. Gas pe tadka lag raha tha. Unhone peeche mudh ke poocha:
"Result mila?"
Main ek second ke liye chup raha. Bag kandhe se utara. Dil fast dhadak raha tha.
"Kitne aaye?"
Wahi moment tha jahan meri life ne halka sa turn liya.
Maine sach bolne ka socha.
Sach bolta toh daant padti. Shayad comparison hota. Shayad disappointment hota.
Par main embarrassment se zyada darr raha tha.
Aur maine bola —
"78."
Jab maine yeh number bola na… mujhe khud par yakeen nahi hua ki main itni easily jhoot bol gaya.
Mummy ke chehre par smile aa gayi.
"Very good! Mujhe pata tha tum kar loge."
Unhone bina check kiye mujh par trust kiya.
Trust… jo main tod raha tha.
Room mein jaake maine paper nikala. Kuch second dekha. Phir dheere-dheere phaad diya. Jaise koi secret destroy kar raha hoon. Chhote tukde dustbin ke neeche daba diye.
Us waqt laga problem solve ho gayi.
Par sach mein problem ab shuru hui thi.
Teen din baad school se call aaya. Parent-Teacher Meeting.
PTM wale din main confident tha. Mujhe laga manage ho jayega. Teacher busy hogi. Shayad detail mein baat nahi karegi.
Par teacher ne seedha papa ko paper dikha diya.
"Sir, aapko marks ke baare mein pata hoga?"
Papa ne paper dekha. Phir mujhe dekha.
Wo nazar… main shayad kabhi nahi bhool paunga.
Ghar aake unhone mujhe nahi maara. Bas sofa pe bithaya.
"Marks kam aaye toh theek hai. Par jhoot kyun bola?"
Mere paas jawab nahi tha. Main sirf neeche dekh raha tha.
Mummy ne dheere se bola,
"Hum tumhare saath hain… par jhoot ke saath nahi."
Us din mujhe punishment se zyada guilt feel hua.
Par kahani yahin khatam nahi hoti.
Asli problem ye thi ki maine us din ek dangerous lesson seekha.
Main jhoot bolne mein comfortable ho gaya.
Pehli baar darr laga tha.
Dusri baar kam laga.
Teesri baar almost normal.
Main excuses banana seekh gaya. Half truth bolna seekh gaya. Situation ko twist karna seekh gaya.
Log mujhe smart bolte the.
Par main andar se insecure tha.
Main uncomfortable cheezon ka saamna karne ke bajay unse bachna seekh raha tha.
Time aage badhta gaya. School khatam. College start.
20 saal ka hua toh laga main mature ho gaya hoon. Engineering second year. Hostel life. Freedom.
Par sach?
Main ab bhi wahi 10 saal wala bachcha tha — jo uncomfortable situation se bhaagta tha.
Ek project mein maine phir shortcut liya.
Important document internet se copy kiya. Thoda edit, thoda design. Presentation ready.
Is baar stakes alag the.
Is baar document mein sirf mera naam nahi tha.
Ek aur naam tha.
Aur jab wo document check hua…
Toh sirf main nahi fasa.
Raat ke 11:47 PM phone baja.
Unknown number.
Maine casually uthaya.
Doosri taraf se awaaz aayi:
"Tumhe lagta hai sab manage ho jayega?
Kal 10 baje Director ke office mein milo."
Call cut.
Bas itna.
Us raat mujhe neend nahi aayi.
Main hostel ke bed par chhat dekhte hue sirf ek cheez soch raha tha —
Kya 10 saal ki umar mein bola hua ek jhoot
ab interest ke saath wapas aa raha hai?
Aur agar kal jo hone wala hai…
wo sirf mere future ka nahi,
kisi aur ki reputation ka sawaal ho?
Shayad us din mujhe pehli baar samajh aaya —
Shortcut kabhi free nahi hote.
Unka bill late aata hai.
Aur kal…
shayad mera bill clear hone wala tha.
(Continued…)