Adultery Meri Mummy Bahut Tezi se Badal Gayi.

[Mahendra_]

Subah, suraj mere bedroom ke pardo se chhan kar aaya, bikhri hui chadaron par ek garam roshni daal raha tha jahan main raat bhar ke video call ke baad gir gaya tha. Main abhi bhi gehri neend mein so raha tha, mera jism Maa ke gande antics ko screen par dekhkar kai baar sehlane se thaka hua tha, sapne uske hilte pichhwade aur khule chhedon se bhare hue the.



Ghar pehle shant tha, jaise tufaan ke baad ki khamoshi, lekin phir awaazein aayi—oonchi, gusse wali awaazein hallway ke neeche se goonjti hui. Main hila, aankhein malte hue, meri subah ka sakhtapan raat ke yaadon se phadakta hua. Jhagda aur tez ho gaya, Maa ki awaaz teekhi aur bejhijhak, Papa ki kamzor, bheek mangte hue. Main bistar se chupke se nikla, boxers mein nange paon, unke bedroom ke darwaze ki or badha, jo thoda sa khula tha.


Darwaze ke crack se jhankte hue, maine dekha Maa subah jaldi wapas aayi thi—uski peeli saree kal raat se bikhri hui aur tedhi, hari blouse untucked, baal Mukesh ke thokne se wild mess. Aankhon ke gird makeup smudge hua, lipstick dheemi, aur gardan par ek halka hickey khil raha tha jaise uski randi raat ka badge.


Woh dresser ke paas khadi thi, baazu cross kiye, jabki Papa bistar ke kinare baitha tha, abhi bhi pajamas mein, rang safed aur confused, aaram ke baad. “Rekha, tu saari raat kahan thi?” Papa ne demand kiya, uski awaaz toot rahi thi, hath uske outfit ki or ishara karte hue. “Subah sawere ghar aayi, aise saji hui jaise... koi party girl? Woh saree bikhri hui, blouse aadha khula—kya ho raha hai? Kya tu party kar rahi thi?”


Maa hasi, ek thandi, mazak udati awaaz, uski or mudti hui kamar takdi, saree uski paseene se geeli twacha par chipki hui, uske mote pichhwade ko outline karti hui jaise yeh paap ke liye sculpt kiya gaya ho. “Party mein? Oh, Anil, tu kitna bhola hai. Main wahan thi jo tu mujhe nahi de sakta—sahi se chudai, kathor aur gehri, jab tak main seedha nahi chal sakti. Yeh saree? Bikhri hai kyunki yeh aadhi raat motel ke farsh par thi jab ek asli mard meri yoni aur gand ko thok raha tha. Khush ho ab?”


Papa ka chehra rangheen ho gaya, uska muh khulta-band hota hua jaise ek machhli, uski vehemence se hairan—jis tarah usne shabd thooke, koi pachtawa nahi, uski aankhein nafrat se chamakti hui. Use aadha bhi nahi pata tha; uske liye, woh abhi bhi uski wafadar patni thi, na ki Mukesh ki professional randi, ek aurat jo parivaarik photos par veerya tapkati hai, gand ke swaad wale loads nigalti hai, aur uske kharrate maarte roop par hansti hai jab woh thoki jati hai. “Rekha! Apna muh band kar! Tu aisa kaise bol sakti hai? Tu meri patni hai—hamari shaadi, hamara parivaar... yeh tu nahi hai. Aur woh hickey? Kisne kiya? Sach bata!”


“Sach?” Maa ne tana mara, nazdeek aati hui, uske stann blouse mein ubharte hue, nipples yaad ya jhagde ke thrill se sakht. “Sach yeh hai ki tu ek pathetic pati hai, Anil. Bistar mein kamzor, zindagi mein kamzor—kal apna seena pakadta hua jaise ek baccha kyunki maine kaha main randi banna chahti hoon. Woh hickey? Ek aise ling se jo mujhe sach mein satisfy karta hai, mujhe charam par le jata hai jab tak main chhidak nahi jati. Tu? Tu meri yoni ke sweet areas ko map ke saath bhi nahi dhoond sakta. Aur hamari shaadi? Yeh ek mazak hai—main natak karna band kar rahi hoon. Raj tere bewakoofi se behtar ke haqdaar hai jo hamein neeche kheench rahi hai.”


Papa peechhe hata, aankhon mein dard chamakta hua, lekin usne dabav banaya, uski awaaz oonchi hoti hui. “Natak? Hum 20 saal se saath hain! Izzat ka kya? Pyar ka? Tu aise behave kar rahi hai jaise... ek randi! Ghar aayi sex ki badboo ke saath, saree poori tedhi—kya tu kisi aur mard ke saath thi? Maan lo!”


Maa ne sar peechhe phenka, aur zor se hasi, blouse ka ek button kholkar use taane ke liye, aur cleavage flash karti hui. “Maan lo? Thik hai—haan, Anil, main ek aise mard ke saath thi jo chodna jaanta hai. Usne mujhe jhukaya, meri gand ko kheench kar gape kiya, veerya se bhara jo saari raat tapakta raha. Aur izzat? Tu use tab kho chuka jab tune mujhe aurat jaisa mehsoos karana band kiya. Tu boring hai, napunsak—phir se apna dil pakad, tu kamzor chodu. Main hi is parivaar ko ek saath rakhti hoon, tu nahi.”


Yeh disrespect hairan karne wala, teekha tha—uske shabd chakuon ki tarah, uske pet mein mudte hue, koi filter nahi, koi reham nahi. Papa ladkhadaaya, aankhon mein aansoo ubhar aaye. “Rekha, please, band karo, main jaanta hoon yeh jhooth hai... yeh heated hai, lekin Raj ke bare mein socho. Hamara beta—tu sab kuch kaise barbaad kar sakti hai? Main tujhse pyar karta hoon; hum ise theek kar sakte hain.”


“Theek karna?” Maa ne teekhe se kaha, apna saree ka pallu kheench kar gira diya, uski shakal aur bhi numaya ho gayi. “Theek karne ke liye kuch nahi hai—tu hi samasya hai. Bistar mein bekaar, bahar bekaar. Mujhe ek aisa mard chahiye jo mujhe cheekhne tak thokta hai, tere naram bahane nahi. Raj thik hai; woh bada ho gaya hai. Ab chup kar aur mujhe kapde badalne de—tu lucky hai main wapas bhi aayi.”


Main chupke se peechhe hata, mera ling meri boxers mein sakht hota hua uski nishthurta se, apne kamre mein phone pakadne ke liye sarka. Maine Mukesh ko dial kiya, dil tezi se dhadakta hua, jhagda abhi bhi hallway se sunai de raha tha.
“Hey, Raj,” Mukesh ne jawab diya, uski awaaz smug, jaise woh kal raat ke marathon ke baad nap se utha ho. “Kya baat hai, bacche? Teri maa ghar thik se pahunch gayi?”


“Haan, Uncle,” maine fusfusaaya, uttejana bhadakti hui. “Woh wapas aayi, lekin sun—she aur Papa bade jhagde mein hain. Woh use tukde-tukde kar rahi hai, kamzor, bekaar bol rahi hai. Wild hai. Sunna chahta hai? Main phone ko nazdeek rakhta hoon.”
“Yaar haan,” Mukesh ne kaha, uski awaaz utsuk. “Mujhe sunao—mujhe pasand hai jab woh us bevakoof ko bura bhala kehti hai.”


Main darwaze par wapas chupke gaya, phone ko crack ke paas rakha, awaazein saaf. Mukesh Maa ke zeher ko sun raha tha: “Tu ek mazak hai, Anil—aadhi baar sakht bhi nahi ho sakta. Mujhe asli ling chahiye, tera dheela noodle nahi. Apna dil pakadkar ro jab main yaad karti hoon kaise mujhe kal raat behosh karke choda gaya.” Papa ke jawab kamzor the: “Rekha, band kar... please, tu mujhe dard de rahi hai.” Maa ne palatwar kiya: “Dard? Tujh jaise boring ke saath rehne ki koshish kar—main hi dukh jhel rahi hoon, saalon se jhootha charam natak karti hui. Tu pathetic hai, Anil—chupke se mar ja.”


Maine phone apne kaan par wapas liya, fusfusaate hue. “Suna, Uncle? Woh use barbaad kar rahi hai.”
Mukesh dheeme se hasa, khush. “Bilul saaf, Raj. Mujhe yeh pasand hai—teri maa ek savage hai, us cuck ko tukde-tukde karti hui, woh hamesha ke liye meri randi hai. Jaldi hi, woh uske ling ko divorce karegi. Meri baat yaad rakh—ek baar woh aazaad hui, woh poori tarah meri hai, chhed kabhi bhi taiyaar.”


Main muskuraya, khushi ubharti hui—Papa out, Maa poori tarah Mukesh ki randi, main saath mein. “Yaar, main iska intezar nahi kar sakta, Uncle. Papa pehle se hi miserable hai; yeh use poori tarah dhakel dega. Ise karo—uska jeevan narak banao, shaadi ko hamesha ke liye tod do.”


“Tujhe mil gaya, bacche,” Mukesh ne kaha. “Main ise aur badha doonga—uske dimaag ko chodo, fusfusaao kaise Anil bekaar hai, beej bo do. Woh jaldi hi papers file karegi, aur hum uski gand mere ling par celebrate karenge. Baad mein baat karte hain—plans hain.”


Maine phone band kiya, jeb mein dala, jhagda dheema hota hua jab maine phir se jhanka. Barrage ke bawajood, Papa kaanpta hua khada hua, Maa ko gale lagaya, uske baazu uski bikhri saree ke bawajood uske gird lapete. “Rekha... mujhe maaf kar. Jo bhi maine kiya aur kaha, mujhe maaf kar. Main tujhse pyar karta hoon—aise mat chhod.”


Maa ne use wapas gale lagaya, pehle uska jism sakht, phir naram hota hua, uske hath uski peeth par, lekin uski aankhein door, Mukesh ke chhoone ke bare mein soch rahi thi. “Anil... yeh sirf tu nahi hai. Lekin haan, garmi ke liye sorry. Jo maine kaha woh jhooth tha, gusse mein kaha, maine kisi ke saath nahi soya, main kabhi tujhe dhokha nahi doongi.”


Papa ne apna chehra uske kandhe mein dafna diya, awaaz dheemi. “Mujhe nahi pata hamara rishta kyun toot raha hai. Hum pehle kitne kareeb the—haste, share karte. Ab tu door hai, gussa. Kya hua, Rekha? Kaam? Main? Bata—hum ise theek kar sakte hain.”


Maa ne aah bhari, thoda sa peechhe hati, uski saree thodi si sarki. “Anil, yeh complicated hai. Hum alag ho gaye hain—tu hamesha thaka hua, main... bechain. Woh spark chali gayi; hum chudai se zyada jhagadte hain. Yaad hai hamara honeymoon? Passionate raatein? Ab yeh routine hai, boring. Mujhe sochne ke liye space chahiye.”


Papa ne sar hilaya, aankhein bheek mangti hui. “Space? Lekin yeh daraawana hai, yeh separation tak le ja sakta hai. Humne ek zindagi banayi hai, Rekha—ghar, Raj. Agar hum drift karte hain, yeh khatam ho jata hai. Counseling try karte hain, date nights. Mujhe door mat dhakelo.”


Woh sofa par baithe, Papa ka hath uske hath mein, kamra tanaav se bhara. Maa aage jhuki. “Counseling? Shayad, lekin pehle, thodi doori—ek mahina. Apna dimaag saaf karo, dekho kya miss karte hain. Yeh separation nahi; yeh saans lene ka mauka hai. Tu yahan Raj ke saath raho; main parivaar se milne jaoongi ya kuch. Yeh hamein majboot karega.”


Papa ka chehra bikhar gaya, hairan. “Ek mahina? Rekha, yeh bada hai! Tu kahan jayegi? Agar tu wapas nahi aayi? Sawaal—hum kaise baat karenge? Bills ka kya? Raj ka college? Yeh ant jaisa lagta hai.”


Maa ne uske gaal par dheere se chuma, uske honth thehre, use shaant karte hue. “Anil, relax—main apni behen ke paas city mein jaoongi, kuch door nahi. Hum roz call karenge, text. Bills? Auto-pay. Raj thik hai; woh responsible hai. Yeh ant nahi—ise ek reset socho. Hamein iski zarurat hai; ek doosre ko smother karna kaam nahi kar raha.”


Papa ne socha, apni thodi ragadte hue, anichchhuk—woh use door nahi chahta tha, uske chhoone, uski presence kho dene ka darr tha. “Lekin Rekha, ek mahina bina tere? Bistar khali, dinner akela—yeh mujhe maar dega. Divorce tak le jata hai; maine doston ke saath dekha hai. Bura idea—yahan raho, yahin kaam karo.”


Maa ne phir se chuma, gehra, uska hath uski jaangh par. “Nahi, Anil—doori dil ko aur pyara karti hai. Hum ek doosre ki zyada kadar karenge. Koi divorce nahi; waada. Mujh par bharosa karo—yeh hamein bachata hai.”


Woh aage peechhe baat karte rahe, Papa ne reasons diye: “Raj ko dono parents ghar par chahiye; stability.” Maa ne jawab diya: “Woh bada ho gaya; yeh use independence sikhayega.” Papa: “Agar tu kisi aur se milti hai?” Maa ne chuma: “Nahi miloongi, main sirf tujhse pyar karti hoon, mere pyar, yeh hamare liye hai.” Aakhir mein, Papa ne aah bhari, sehmat hote hue. “Thik hai, Rekha... agar tujhe lagta hai yeh best hai. Kahan exactly? Kab?”


“Meri behen ke paas,” Maa ne kaha, ek baar aur chumte hue jab chinta uske maathe par chhayi. “Agla hafta—tayyari ke liye time deta hai. Thanks, Anil—tu iske liye pyara hai.”