03-08-2026, 07:06 PM
Main ab kitchen mein akeli thi. Shanta bai bartan dho rahi thi, lekin uske lafzon ki goonj abhi bhi mere kaano mein thi. Sunny hall mein tha. Uski presence itni kareeb thi… aur phir bhi main usse door mehsoos kar rahi thi.
Mere andar ek bhari si khamoshi thi. Uske neeche ek toofan.
Mere emotional conflict ka asli chehra yeh tha:
Main Sunny se pyaar karti hoon. Yeh jhoot nahi. Woh mera pati hai. Usne mujhe kabhi hurt nahi kiya. Woh responsible hai, caring hai, mujhe miss karta hai. Jab woh tour pe hota hai toh main uska wait karti hoon. Jab woh aata hai toh main uske liye khana banati hoon, uske kapde nikal ti hoon, uske saath soft baatein karti hoon. Yeh sab real hai.
Lekin uske saath-saath ek aur cheez bhi real ho chuki hai.
Ramu jee.
Uske saamne main jo ban jaati hoon… woh main Sunny ke saamne kabhi nahi bani. Uske saamne meri awaaz soft ho jaati hai. Mera body uske control mein chala jaata hai. Main sharmaati hoon, jhuk jaati hoon, uske lafzon ko sehti hoon. Aur sabse khatarnak baat… main usse rok ti nahi. Main usse mana nahi karti. Main uske dhakke sehti hoon, uske humiliation ko absorb kar leti hoon, aur uske jaane ke baad bhi uska sochti rehti hoon.
Yeh do alag auratein hain mere andar.
Ek Ruhi Singh — jo Sunny ki biwi hai. Jo uske liye normal zindagi jeena chahti hai. Jo guilt mehsoos karti hai. Jo darti hai ke kabhi sach na nikal aaye. Jo sochti hai “main kya kar rahi hoon? Main kitni neech hoon?”
Dusri Ruhi… jo ab Kamat ban chuki hai. Jo Ramu jee ke saamne apna astitva kho deti hai. Jo uske rough touch mein ek ajeeb si shanti paati hai. Jo uske double meaning lafzon se laal toh ho jaati hai, lekin andar se usse maza bhi aata hai. Jo uske soft kiss ke baad aur confuse ho jaati hai, kyunki us romance ne usse aur gehra fasaya.
Dono ke beech main fas gayi hoon.
Jab Sunny mera haath pakadta hai, toh main uska haath mehsoos karti hoon… lekin uske saath-saath mujhe kisi aur ke haath yaad aa jaate hain. Jab woh kehta hai “tu meri biwi hai”, toh main uski aankhon mein nahi dekh paati, kyunki main jaanti hoon main uski poori nahi rahi. Kuch hissa main kisi aur ko de chuki hoon. Aur woh hissa wapas nahi aa raha.
Guilt mujhe kha raha hai.
Main usse dekh nahi paati seedhe. Main usse jhoot bolti hoon. Main uske saamne normal banne ki koshish karti hoon, lekin meri awaaz kaamp jaati hai, mera chehra laal ho jaata hai, meri aankhein jhuk jaati hain. Har baar jab Shanta bai kuch double meaning bolti hai, toh main darr jaati hoon ke Sunny samajh na jaaye. Aur us darr ke neeche ek aur darr hai — ke agar sach nikal aaya toh main kuch nahi bacha paungi.
Lekin guilt ke saath ek aur cheez bhi hai jo main admit nahi karna chahti.
Ek ajeeb sa… sukoon.
Ramu jee ke saamne sochne ki zarurat nahi padti. Wahan decision lene ki zarurat nahi. Wahan main bas… ho jaati hoon. Soft. Obedient. Uski. Aur us “uski” hone mein ek aisi azaadi hai jo main Sunny ke saath kabhi nahi mehsoos kar paayi. Wahan main biwi hoon. Yahan main… kuch aur.
Yeh soch ke main khud se nafrat karti hoon.
Main sochti hoon — kya main paagal ho gayi hoon? Kya main itni kamzor hoon ke thodi si domination ne mujhe yeh bana diya? Kya main apne pati ke saath dhoka kar rahi hoon aur usme maza bhi le rahi hoon?
Jawab aata hai — haan.
Aur yeh “haan” mujhe aur tod deta hai.
Main doosri taraf bhi sochti hoon. Agar main chaahun toh sab rok sakti hoon. Ramu jee ko mana kar sakti hoon. Shanta bai ko daant sakti hoon. Sunny ko sach bata sakti hoon. Lekin main karti nahi. Main nahi karti. Kyunki us “nahi karne” ke peeche ek swaarth hai. Ek chhupi hui ichha. Ek aisi bhukh jo main kabhi openly accept nahi karna chahti.
Main kitchen ki sink pe haath rakh ke khadi thi. Paani chal raha tha, lekin main usse mehsoos nahi kar rahi thi.
Mere andar sirf ek sawaal ghoom raha tha:
Main kaun hoon ab?
Sunny ki biwi… ya Ramu jee ki rakhail?
Ruhi Singh… ya Ruhi Kamat?
Aur sabse badi baat —
main is sawaal ka jawab dhoondna bhi nahi chahti thi.
Kyunki jawab jo bhi hoga…
woh mujhe tod dega.
Mere andar ek bhari si khamoshi thi. Uske neeche ek toofan.
Mere emotional conflict ka asli chehra yeh tha:
Main Sunny se pyaar karti hoon. Yeh jhoot nahi. Woh mera pati hai. Usne mujhe kabhi hurt nahi kiya. Woh responsible hai, caring hai, mujhe miss karta hai. Jab woh tour pe hota hai toh main uska wait karti hoon. Jab woh aata hai toh main uske liye khana banati hoon, uske kapde nikal ti hoon, uske saath soft baatein karti hoon. Yeh sab real hai.
Lekin uske saath-saath ek aur cheez bhi real ho chuki hai.
Ramu jee.
Uske saamne main jo ban jaati hoon… woh main Sunny ke saamne kabhi nahi bani. Uske saamne meri awaaz soft ho jaati hai. Mera body uske control mein chala jaata hai. Main sharmaati hoon, jhuk jaati hoon, uske lafzon ko sehti hoon. Aur sabse khatarnak baat… main usse rok ti nahi. Main usse mana nahi karti. Main uske dhakke sehti hoon, uske humiliation ko absorb kar leti hoon, aur uske jaane ke baad bhi uska sochti rehti hoon.
Yeh do alag auratein hain mere andar.
Ek Ruhi Singh — jo Sunny ki biwi hai. Jo uske liye normal zindagi jeena chahti hai. Jo guilt mehsoos karti hai. Jo darti hai ke kabhi sach na nikal aaye. Jo sochti hai “main kya kar rahi hoon? Main kitni neech hoon?”
Dusri Ruhi… jo ab Kamat ban chuki hai. Jo Ramu jee ke saamne apna astitva kho deti hai. Jo uske rough touch mein ek ajeeb si shanti paati hai. Jo uske double meaning lafzon se laal toh ho jaati hai, lekin andar se usse maza bhi aata hai. Jo uske soft kiss ke baad aur confuse ho jaati hai, kyunki us romance ne usse aur gehra fasaya.
Dono ke beech main fas gayi hoon.
Jab Sunny mera haath pakadta hai, toh main uska haath mehsoos karti hoon… lekin uske saath-saath mujhe kisi aur ke haath yaad aa jaate hain. Jab woh kehta hai “tu meri biwi hai”, toh main uski aankhon mein nahi dekh paati, kyunki main jaanti hoon main uski poori nahi rahi. Kuch hissa main kisi aur ko de chuki hoon. Aur woh hissa wapas nahi aa raha.
Guilt mujhe kha raha hai.
Main usse dekh nahi paati seedhe. Main usse jhoot bolti hoon. Main uske saamne normal banne ki koshish karti hoon, lekin meri awaaz kaamp jaati hai, mera chehra laal ho jaata hai, meri aankhein jhuk jaati hain. Har baar jab Shanta bai kuch double meaning bolti hai, toh main darr jaati hoon ke Sunny samajh na jaaye. Aur us darr ke neeche ek aur darr hai — ke agar sach nikal aaya toh main kuch nahi bacha paungi.
Lekin guilt ke saath ek aur cheez bhi hai jo main admit nahi karna chahti.
Ek ajeeb sa… sukoon.
Ramu jee ke saamne sochne ki zarurat nahi padti. Wahan decision lene ki zarurat nahi. Wahan main bas… ho jaati hoon. Soft. Obedient. Uski. Aur us “uski” hone mein ek aisi azaadi hai jo main Sunny ke saath kabhi nahi mehsoos kar paayi. Wahan main biwi hoon. Yahan main… kuch aur.
Yeh soch ke main khud se nafrat karti hoon.
Main sochti hoon — kya main paagal ho gayi hoon? Kya main itni kamzor hoon ke thodi si domination ne mujhe yeh bana diya? Kya main apne pati ke saath dhoka kar rahi hoon aur usme maza bhi le rahi hoon?
Jawab aata hai — haan.
Aur yeh “haan” mujhe aur tod deta hai.
Main doosri taraf bhi sochti hoon. Agar main chaahun toh sab rok sakti hoon. Ramu jee ko mana kar sakti hoon. Shanta bai ko daant sakti hoon. Sunny ko sach bata sakti hoon. Lekin main karti nahi. Main nahi karti. Kyunki us “nahi karne” ke peeche ek swaarth hai. Ek chhupi hui ichha. Ek aisi bhukh jo main kabhi openly accept nahi karna chahti.
Main kitchen ki sink pe haath rakh ke khadi thi. Paani chal raha tha, lekin main usse mehsoos nahi kar rahi thi.
Mere andar sirf ek sawaal ghoom raha tha:
Main kaun hoon ab?
Sunny ki biwi… ya Ramu jee ki rakhail?
Ruhi Singh… ya Ruhi Kamat?
Aur sabse badi baat —
main is sawaal ka jawab dhoondna bhi nahi chahti thi.
Kyunki jawab jo bhi hoga…
woh mujhe tod dega.
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