Terrace Garden, Rent Hike, aur Rao Mansion ka Fake Family Scene

Rohan ne bina soche bol diya, “Aur har situation ka solution discipline bhi nahi hota, sir.”

Woh line bolte hi Rohan ko khud laga ki thoda rude ho gaya. Colonel uncle ne kuch seconds tak kuch nahi bola. Phir bas itna kaha, “Fair enough.” Aur terrace se neeche chale gaye.

Us raat terrace garden pe woh usual silence nahi thi. Paudhon ko paani dene wala routine miss ho gaya, aur next morning tulsi ke kuch patte thode droopy the. Ayesha ne dekh ke bola, “Arre, plants bhi emotional ho gaye kya?”

Par building ka mood waise hi ho chuka tha—sab apne-apne camps mein divided. Mrs. Rao ko tenants entitled aur noisy lag rahe the. Woh khud ko hard woman ki tarah project kar rahi thi, par andar se woh bhi pressure mein thi. Old property ki repairs, roof leakage, loan ka EMI, aur family ke expectations—sab uske shoulders pe the. Usne rent hike ko greed ka mask pehen ke present kiya, kyunki weak dikhna uske liye option hi nahi tha.

Phir ek heavy rainstorm aaya. Bengaluru ne aise baarish kari jaise cloud bhi frustrated ho. Raat ke ek baje ke aas-paas pehle ek leak hall mein dikha, phir stairwell ke corner mein, phir third floor ke corridor mein. Creaky staircase aur purani walls ne finally apni age reveal kar di. Ek bucket laya gaya, phir doosra, phir third. Kitchen mein pani tapakne laga, aur terrace pe rakhe paudhe hawa aur paani ke beech fight karne lage.

“Laptop bachao!” Ayesha chillayi.

“Books utha lo!” Imran ne apni room se bhaagte hue bola.

Rohan ne dekha Colonel uncle ek loose pipe ke paas khade the, khud bhi wet ho chuke the, par bilkul panic nahi. Unki movements mein ek old-school calm tha—jaise crisis unke liye nayi cheez nahi thi.

“Mehta!” uncle ne awaaz lagayi. “Tulsi ke pots andar le aao. Jaldi.”

Rohan bina soche terrace ki taraf bhaaga. Usne dekha paudhe ek side tilt ho rahe the, ek tomato plant ka support khisak gaya, aur mint ke leaves paani mein chipak gaye the. Woh paudhe jo un dono ne milkar lagaye the, ab bas plants nahi the—woh unke routine ka proof the. Rohan ne ek-ek karke pots uthaye. Uske saath Ayesha bhi aagayi, aur Imran ne bhi bina bole neeche se empty buckets upar bhejne start kar diye.

Colonel uncle ne ek hand se pipe ko tape kiya, doosre se ek tenant ko stairs se support diya. Unki age us waqt irrelevant thi. Woh bas ek aadmi the jo apni building aur logon ko bacha raha tha. Rohan ne pehli baar unko “strict uncle” ki jagah ek aise insaan ke roop mein dekha jo khud ki usefulness ko prove karne ke liye fighting mode mein tha.

Subah tak sab thak chuke the. Hall mein wet slippers, chai ke khali cup, aur half-dried towels ka scene tha. Terrace garden ka ek hissa damage ho gaya tha. But koi bhi yeh nahi bol raha tha ki “bas ab toh game over.” Shayad kyunki crisis ne sabko ek hi frame mein laa khada kiya tha.

Usi morning Colonel uncle ne terrace par Rohan ko bulaya. Baarish ruk chuki thi, par hawa mein ab bhi wet mitti ki smell thi.

Uncle ne bina kisi drama ke kaha, “Main retirement ke baad useless feel karne laga tha.”

Rohan ne unki taraf dekha. Yeh confession unse expect nahi kiya gaya tha.

Uncle ne aage bola, “Army mein routine tha, purpose tha, log the. Yahan aake laga main bas ek old tenant hoon jo chair pe baith ke newspaper padh sakta hai. Terrace garden bana ke thoda structure wapas aaya. Isliye main usko bachane mein zyada serious ho gaya tha.”

Rohan ko apne aap par thoda shame feel hua. Woh dheere se bola, “Main bhi… actually, main yahan sirf stay nahi kar raha tha. I was kind of… hoping ki jagah settle ho jaaye. But rent hike se laga sab phir se temporary ho jayega. So I acted like I don’t care.”

Colonel uncle ne ek short, almost invisible smile di. “You care too much, isliye pretend karte ho ki nahi karte.”

Rohan ne kuch nahi bola. Kyunki that was exactly true.

Thodi der baad Mrs. Rao terrace par aayi. Uske haath mein file thi, aur face par woh same strictness, but ab uske neeche exhaustion साफ दिख रही थी. Ayesha bhi wahin thi, kyunki woh har important scene mein naturally present ho jaati thi—like an unpaid project manager of emotions.

Mrs. Rao ne seedha bola, “Main greedy villain nahi hoon. Haan, rent badhaya. Kyunki repair bills, loan, aur family emergency ke saath building ko chalana easy nahi hai. Old wiring, seepage, roof work—sab ka paisa chahiye. Agar main sach bolti toh log mujhe weak samajhte. Isliye main hard dikhti hoon.”

Ayesha ne bina mock kiye, first time thoda soft tone mein kaha, “Ma’am, aapko weak samajhna zaroori bhi nahi tha. Bas transparent hona tha.”

Mrs. Rao ne uski taraf dekha. Bahut saalon baad shayad kisi tenant ne usse “greedy aunty” ke beyond dekha tha.

Us din ek ajeeb sa joke bana. Ayesha ne kaha, “Okay, since everyone is already behaving like relatives in a crisis, can we just call this a fake family and move on?”

Imran, jo usually low volume pe rehta tha, usne bhi half-smile ke saath bola, “Fake family mein bhi EMI aur rent hota hai kya?”

Rohan hansa. Colonel uncle ne deadpan mein bola, “Family ho ya hostel, bills real hi hote hain.”

Aur sab has diye. Thoda tired hoke, thoda relief ke saath.