Bamboo, Brake Aur Ek Purana Din

Subah ke paanch baje the, aur village ka aasman abhi bhi thoda neela, thoda grey sa tha—jaise raat aur din beech mein coffee pe baith kar decide kar rahe hon ki kaun pehle nikle. Nungsang gaon mein morning ka matlab tha rooster ki awaaz, kitchen se uthti hui wood-smoke ki smell, aur kitchen garden mein dew ki thandi boondein jo pairon ko halka sa jaga deti thi. Alina, ya ghar mein sabke liye Ashi, apni choti si blanket ko aur tight pakad ke leti rahi, phir ekdum se aankh khol ke boli, “Okay, I’m awake. Bas body ka Wi-Fi abhi connect ho raha hai.”

Bibi Meren chhota sa hansi ka sound nikaal kar boli, “Wi-Fi baad mein, pehle face dholo. Dadaji ne already garden dekh liya hai.” Ashi ne sigh kiya aur bamboo se bani window ki taraf dekha. Bahar Dadaji Nungsang—sab unhe Ato bolte the—apne usual silent authority ke saath khade the. 72 saal ke the, lekin unki back seedhi thi aur aankhen aise dekh rahi thi jaise har leaf, har branch, har shadow se koi secret padh rahe hon. Unhone sirf itna kaha, “Dimapur ke liye nikalna hai. Pehle leaf lo.”

Ashi turant uth baithi. “Again? Dadaji, we are going for a bus ride, space mission nahi. Har baar ek special leaf, ek chhota prayer, aur phir ye ‘aaj chappal ulta mat pehno, aaj seedhi baat mat bolo’ type rules. It’s a lot.”

Ato ne uski taraf dekha, bilkul bina gusse ke, par aise jaise woh already decide kar chuke the ki is conversation ka end unke favor mein hoga. “Road pe nikalne se pehle kuch cheezein yaad rakhi jaati hain. Isko superstition mat bolo. Isko discipline bolo.”

Bibi Meren ne daal ka spoon slowly chalate hue beech mein entry li. “Dono pehle kha lo. Empty pet mein philosophy aur zyada loud hoti hai.” Ashi ne smile rokne ki koshish ki, fail ho gayi, aur phir kitchen stool pe baith gayi. Ghar mein aise hi hota tha—Dadaji ka tone hard, Bibi ka tone soft, aur beech mein Ashi ka brain har cheez ko question mark bana deta tha.

Aaj unka Dimapur jaana zaroori tha. Ashi ko school ke admission-related kaam the, aur Dadaji ko market se kuch bamboo fittings aur medicine leni thi. Bus village se subah niklegi, phir narrow road, bad turns, aur ek chhota river crossing aata tha jahan monsoon ke season mein hamesha tension rehti thi. Ato ne insist kiya tha ki safar se pehle peepal jaise bade leaf ka ek tukda, prayer, aur ek chhota sa ritual hona hi chahiye. Ashi ko lagta tha ki yeh sab old-school hai, but respect ke chakkar mein woh abhi tak zyada argue nahi karti thi.

Breakfast ke baad Dadaji ne bamboo basket se ek fresh leaf nikala, uspar kuch murmur kiya, aur darwaze ke paas rakh diya. Phir unhone road ke direction mein dekh kar kaha, “Aaj ka din theek nahi lag raha.”

Ashi ne eyebrow raise ki. “Kis basis pe? Aapne weather app dekha hai ya gut feeling version 2.0 chal raha hai?”

“Clouds,” Ato ne short jawab diya. “Aur birds ka udna.”

Ashi ne aasman ki taraf dekha. Clouds toh normal the, aur birds bhi apne kaam pe lage the. “Dadaji, aap har baar signs ko signs bol dete ho. Sometimes it’s just weather.”

“Sometimes?” Ato ne leaf ko dhyan se uthaya. “Kabhi kabhi road pe nikalne se pehle nature khud bolta hai. Suno toh sahi.”

Ashi ne kuch nahi kaha. Bibi Meren ne uske shoulder ko lightly touch kiya—jaise silently bol rahi ho, “Aaj thoda shaant rehna.” Ashi ne aankhon hi aankhon mein reply diya, “Main try karungi, but no promises.”

Bus stop tak ka rasta kachcha tha, dono taraf bamboo groves aur chhote kitchen gardens. Kaito, local mini bus driver, apni purani blue bus ke paas khada tha aur already kisi uncle ko road ke potholes ke baare mein entertaining style mein warn kar raha tha. Uski awaaz itni loud thi ki lag raha tha bus nahi, full-time mobile speaker hai.

“Arre Ato, aaj bhi ritual? Wah, aapka road trip package toh premium hai,” Kaito ne haste hue bola. “Leaf, prayer, timing—sab included. Bus bhi bas aapke mood pe chalti hai kya?”

Ato ne bas ek look diya. Kaito turant seedha ho gaya, phir muskuraya. “Chalo, chalo, seat pakdo. Aaj road thoda tricky hai. Kal raat ko thoda heavy rain hua tha upar wale turn pe.”

Ashi ne turant phone nikala. “Exactly. See? Rain. Slippery road. This is why delays happen. Not because of omens.”

Kaito ne rearview mirror mein uski taraf dekh kar teasing tone mein kaha, “Madam, weather aur omen mein farak hota hai. Weather wet karta hai, omen tension. Dono mil jaayein toh driver ka BP high.”

Bus ne gaon se nikalte hi apni familiar groan bhari awaaz nikali. Ashi window ke paas baith gayi, earphones nikaal kar bhi pehne nahi—kyunki Dadaji ke saath travel mein music sunna unhe disrespect lag sakta tha. Road start mein smooth thi, phir gradually curves aur downhill patches aane lage. Bamboo ki ghani chaadaron ke beech se sunlight aise gir rahi thi jaise kisi ne zameen pe broken gold chhidka ho.

Thodi der baad bus ne ek sharp turn liya aur achanak jhatka sa laga. Kaito ne brake lagaya. Bus ruk gayi. Andar ek collective “ohh” nikla. Aage ek small slope ke paas road ka ek hissa thoda muddy ho gaya tha, aur bus ka ek wheel phisalne jaisa feel hua. Kaito ne engine off kiya, neeche utar kar check karne laga.

Ato ka face sakht ho gaya. “Maine bola tha. Aaj ka din sahi nahi hai.”

Ashi ne seat belt ko touch kiya, phir window se bahar dekha. “Dadaji, bus ka wheel slip hua because road wet hai. It’s not a curse. It’s basic physics.”

“Physics tumhari kitab mein hoga,” Ato ne kaha. “Hamare yahan safety ka naam bhi kisi aur tarah se aata hai.”