[Deepak_bull]

CHAPTER 1 
 
  
 
Mera naam hai Jai, aur main ek garma-garam,    dhoop se bhara ghar mein rehta hoon, jo ek shanti bhari mohalle mein bassa hai, jahan subah chidiyon ki chahchahat aur zindagi ke dheeme se jagne ki awaaz se swagat hota hai. Mere maa-baap, Prisha aur Kishore, 
 
 hamare ghar ke rooh hain, har ek apna alag pyaar aur takat humari rozmarra ki zindagi mein jodta hai. 
 
  
 
Meri Papa 
 
  
 
Mere papa, Kishore, ek chup-chaap irade wale aadmi hain, unki maujoodgi utni hi sthir hai jitni samundar ki lehre, jo unhone apne kaam se Coastal Horizon Logistics mein achhi tarah jani hain, ek chahalpahal bhari shipping company. Mere papa cargo transport ke logistics sambhalte hain, yeh dekhte hue ke har crate ka hisaab ho, har schedule poora ho. Unka office ek chhota sa, bheed-bhara space hai jo docks ke upar hai, jahan deewaron pe naksha laga hai, desk kagazon ke neeche dabi hai, aur khuli khidki se samundar ki namkeen khushboo aati hai. 
 
  
 
Unke saathi unki nishpakshata aur samudri logistics ke gehre gyaan ke liye unka sammaan karte hain. Woh dockworkers ki pareshaniyon ko sunte hain, jab kaam karna ho toh apni shirt ke baahen chadha lete hain, aur zimmedari ka bojh aasani se uthate hain. Unke kathor haathon mein ek samarpan ki kahani hai—na sirf apne kaam ke liye, balki humare, unke parivaar ke liye bhi. Lambi ghanton ke bawajood, Papa ek parivaar wale aadmi hain dil se. Har shaam jab woh darwaze se andar aate hain, unka chehra chamak uthta hai, din ki thakan meri aur Mummy ke dekhne se pighal jati hai. 
 
  
 
Meri Mummy 
 
  
 
Mummy, Prisha, hamare ghar ki rooh hain, ek aisi aurat jiski imaandari har shabd mein chamakti hai. Unki satyanishtha narmi bhari lekin adamya hai—chahe woh bazaar mein mool-bhaav kar rahi hon ya padosi ko salah de rahi hon, log unpe bharosa karte hain kyunki woh sach ko pyaar se lapet kar bolti hain. Unka charitra unki sundarta se milta hai, ek chamak jo andar se niklti hai. Unke lambe baal unka taaj hain, ek jhilmil siyah nadi ki tarah lehrate hain jo dhoop ko pakad leti hai, har baal apni ek zindagi ke saath chamakta hai. Unki aankhen gehri bhoori hain, garma-garam aur bhaavuk, ek chhupi hui buddhi ke saath jo aapko sach mein dekha hua mehsoos karati hai. Unke hont naram aur natural gulabi hain, ek muskurahat ke saath jo kisi bhi kamre ko roshan kar sakti hai. Unke stan bhare hue hain, jab main chhota tha tab doodh se bhare the, ek sakshi unke samarpit maa ke roop ka. Unki kamar patli hai, unke jism ke naram ghumav ko aur numayan karti hai, jo mere papa ke mazakiya taur par unki sabse dilkash cheez kehte hain—unki badi gaand. 
 
  
 
Meri mummy ki gaand ek adbhut cheez hai, ek aisa namoona jo apni bold, ghumavdar shakal se dhyaan kheenchta hai. Yeh poori aur gol hai, jaise ek perfect chand ka tukda, har kadam ke saath ek taal mein naachti hui. Iska aakar takat aur narmi ka ek sundar mel hai, ek ghumav jo kisi kalakaar ke haath se bana lagta hai, bold phir bhi shalint. 
 
Yeh sirf iska aakar nahi, balki iski maujoodgi hai—atmvishwas bhari, ek natural shaan jo jahan bhi woh jati hain, mardon ke sar ghoomati hai. Papa aksar mazak karte hain ke unki gaand, woh dilkash lehrahat, pehli baar bazaar mein unki nazar mein aayi thi jahan unhone mulakat ki thi. Woh kehte hain ke yeh pehli nazar ka pyaar tha, lekin unki badi gaand ne deal pakki ki, ek mazakiya chingaari unke prem kahani mein jo ek gehre pyaar se bhari shadi tak le gayi. Unki gaand ek cheez se zyada hai; yeh unki sundarta ka prateek hai, unka atmvishwas, jis tarah woh apne aap ko shaan se uthati hain. 
 
  
 
Yeh parivaar ke halke-phulke kisson ka vishay hai, jaise jab Papa mazak karte hain ke unhe shadi karni padi taaki woh unke kadam ke saath chal sakein, ya kaise woh hamesha ek kadam peeche rehte hain, bas unki taarif karne ke liye. Unki gaand ek jaadu hai jo unki prem kahani mein buna hua hai, ek mazakiya sur jo unke rishte ko zinda aur chamkila rakhta hai 
 
 

[Deepak_bull]

Woh hamesha mazak karte hain jo ek doosre ko chidhaate hain, lekin hansi mein khatam hote hain. Mummy bolti hain, “Kishore, tumhara khana bahut teekha hai!” aur Papa muskura ke kehte hain, “Prisha, yeh teekha hai jaise mera tumse pyaar!” Mummy aankhen ghumaati hain, gusse ka naatak karti hain, lekin unki muskurahat hamesha dikhaati hai ke unhe yeh pasand hai. Papa bhi mazak mein bolte hain, “Tumhari teyori bhi doosron ki muskurahat se zyada sundar hai!” Aise hi chalta rehta hai, ek doosre ko peeche chhodne ki koshish, jab tak koi ek has na pade.




Ek shaam, main Papa ke saath baithak mein tha. Papa apne kaam ke kagaz sambhaal rahe the, Coastal Horizon Logistics ke liye, ek shipping company. Unki desk kagazon se dhaki thi, aur woh tezi se likh rahe the, cargo list aur jahazon ke schedule check karte hue. Unka chehra gambheer tha, sab kuch sahi karne pe dhyaan diya hua. Main sofa pe baitha tha, ek ladki se baat kar raha tha jisse main kuch din pehle mila tha. Hum flirty, teekhe messages bhej rahe the, aur main apna phone neeche rakhe tha taaki Papa meri muskurahat na dekh lein.


Mummy baithak mein aayi, unke lambe baal lehrate hue aur laal dress unke ghumav ko gale lagaati hui. Unhe Papa ka dhyaan pasand hai, lekin aaj Papa itne vyast the ke unhone unhe dekha nahi. Woh table ke paas khadi hui, haath kamar pe rakhe, unhe kaam karte dekhti rahi. Thodi der baad unhone baat ki.









“Kishore, tumhara kaam kabhi khatam kyun nahi hota?” unhone poocha, awaaz mein mazaak lekin thodi si naraazgi.
Papa likhte rahe, upar nahi dekha. “Prisha, yeh jahaz apne aap nahi chalte. Mujhe deadlines poori karni hain.”
Mummy ne muh banaya aur thoda aur kareeb aayi. “Hamesha deadlines! Tum in kagazon se kabhi nahi thakte?” Woh jhuki, Papa ke pen thik karne ka naatak kiya, lekin unhe idhar-udhar kar ke chhedne lagi.


“Prisha, bas karo,” Papa ne kaha, thodi si muskurahat ke saath upar dekhte hue. “Mujhe woh pens chahiye.”
Mummy muskuraayi, ek kagaz utha ke hilaaya. “Yeh kya hai? Ek aur jahaz masalon se bhara? Ek raat ke liye bina tumhare nahi chal sakta?” Unhone kagaz se apne aap ko pankha kiya, aankhen sharaarat se chamakti hui.


Main phone se upar dekha aur hans pada. Mummy itni koshish kar rahi thi Papa ka dhyaan khichne ki. Woh aur kareeb aayi, Papa ke kandhe pe haath rakha, phir “galti se” ek kitaab table se gira di. “Oops!” unhone kaha, hansi ke saath.
“Prisha, tum toh samundar ka toofan ho,” Papa ne kaha, sar hilaate hue lekin muskuraate hue. Unhone kitaab ke liye haath badhaya, lekin Mummy ne pehle utha li aur zoor se band kar di.


“Ab aur kitaab nahi!” unhone kaha. “Kishore, tum apni biwi ko nahi dekh rahe!” Isse pehle ke Papa kuch bolte, woh unki god mein baith gayi, apne haath unke gale mein daal diya. “Mujhe meethi baatein bolo, warna main kaam nahi karne doongi.”
Papa ki aankhen badi ho gayi, aur woh hans pade. “Prisha, tum namumkin ho! Ek minute do, kaam khatam kar loon.”
“Koi chance nahi,” Mummy ne kaha, aur zor se pakad liya. “Meethi baatein, abhi!”


Main sofa pe itna zor se hans raha tha, mera phone bhool gaya. Mummy ki ziddi sharaarat bahut mazedaar thi, aur Papa ka naatak ka gussa aur bhi mazedaar. Papa ne aah bhari lekin haar maan li, unki awaaz naram ho gayi. “Theek hai, meri pyari. Tum meri subah ka ujaala ho, raat ka taara. Tumhari muskurahat har mushkil din ko keemti banati hai, aur tumhara dil mere kaam ke samundar se bhi bada hai.”


Mummy ke gaal gulabi ho gaye, aur woh muskuraayi. “Yeh toh achha hai, lekin itna kaam kyun lately? Tum hamesha in kagazon mein phanse rehte ho.”
Papa peeche jhuke, abhi bhi unhe pakde hue. “Company ko zyada shares mile hain, Prisha. Zyada jahaz, zyada cargo, zyada kaam. Mr. Davendra hume bade load sambhalne ke liye dabaav daal raha hai.”


Mummy ne teyori banayi. “Mr. Davendra? Woh tumhe itna kaam kyun deta hai? Kya woh sochta hai tum machine ho? Agar main usse miloon, toh ek thappad doongi mere pati ka waqt churane ke liye!”
Papa hans pade. “Woh bas apna kaam kar raha hai, pyar. Usse mujh pe bharosa hai kyunki main isme achha hoon. Zyada shares ka matlab humare liye bhi zyada paisa.”


Mummy ne sar tedha kiya. “Lekin kyun tum? Koi aur nahi mil sakta kagazon ka dher lagane ke liye? Mujhe mera Kishore ghar pe chahiye, raat bhar kagazon mein nahi phansa hua.”
Papa muskuraaye, unka haath dabate hue. “Mr. Davendra jaanta hai main yeh sambhal sakta hoon. Woh kehta hai docks ko smooth chalane mein main sabse achha hoon. Lekin wada karta hoon, Prisha, main usse baat karoonga thoda dheela karne ke liye.”


Mummy ne hmph kiya lekin muskuraayi. “Tumhe karna bhi chahiye, warna main khud docks pe jaake usse kahoongi mere pati ko zyada kaam dena band karo!”
Woh saath mein hans pade, unki awaazein garma-garam aur khushnuma. Papa ne sar hilaya. “Tum usse toofan se bhi zyada dara dogi, Prisha.” Phir unhone kaha, “Zara paani la do, pyar? Gala sookh gaya yeh sab baatein karte karte.”


Mummy ne jaldi se unhe chuma aur khadi ho gayi. “Sirf isliye ke tumne meethi baatein ki,” unhone chheda. Jab woh kitchen ki taraf chali, unki badi gaand har kadam ke saath lehraati thi, laal dress uske poore, gol aakar ko dikhati hui. Woh aise hilti thi jaise uska apna taal ho, atmvishwas aur shalint. Papa ki aankhen unhe dekhti rahi, aur woh zyada door jati isse pehle, unhone unki gaand pe ek mazaakiya thappad maara.






“Aah!” Mummy ne chilla ke kaha, palat ke unka haath maara. “Kishore, sharam karo!” unhone kaha, lekin woh hans rahi thi, aankhen chamakti hui.


Main apne phone pe dhyaan dene ki koshish karta raha, lekin Mummy ki badi gaand ko na dekhna mushkil tha. Yeh sirf iska size nahi tha—yeh uska hilna tha, bold aur nazar andaaz karna namumkin, jaise unke jaadu ka ek hissa. Yeh mujhe Papa ki kahaaniyon ki yaad dilata tha ke kaise unki chal unki nazar mein aayi thi saalon pehle, unke pyaar ka ek mazaakiya hissa. Hamara ghar unki chhed-chhad, unke pyaar, aur Mummy ki yaadgaar maujoodgi se bhara tha

[Deepak_bull]

“Guys, comments ke liye thank you! 

Next update aaj aa raha hai, miss mat karna! Agla chapter hai jismein main batata hoon kaise meri maa grocery waale aadmi se thodi bahut phas gayi thi, lekin usse kabhi mauka nahi diya

[Deepak_bull]

Agla din chamakta aur dhoop bhara tha, jaise hamare shant mohalle ke zyadatar din hote hain. Meri mummy, Prisha, ka ek routine tha jo hamare ghar ko smooth chalata tha. Woh subah jaldi uth jati thi, Papa ke thodi der baad, unka teal anarkali suit pehle raat se chuna hua aur rakha hua hota tha.
Yeh suit shandaar tha, sone ki karchobi wali lambi kurti, tight teal churidar leggings ke saath, aur sone ke kaam wala sheer dupatta unke kandhe pe lapeta hua.

Unka multi-layered sone ka haar, jhumke, aur chudiyan unki har harkat mein ek naram si khanak jodti thi. Fitted bodice unke jism ko gale lagata tha, unke stan ko aur bhara dikhaata tha, jabki wide skirt aur leggings unke hips ke aaspaas phailti thi, unki badi gaand ko aur numaya karta tha, jo har kadam ke saath aur bhi zyada dikhayi deti thi.

Mummy ki subah chai banane se shuru hoti thi, kitchen mein meethi khushboo bhar jati thi. Woh Papa ka lunch pack karti thi—parathe teekhi chutney ke saath, foil mein lapete hue—aur yeh dekhti thi ke unke kaam ke bag mein kagaz aur paani ki bottle ho.


Woh Papa ko chhedti thi jab woh taiyaar hote the, kehti thi, “Kishore, aaj apne aap ko un jahazon mein mat khona!” Papa hanste, unke maathe pe chumma dete, aur Coastal Horizon Logistics ke liye nikal jate, unke boots farsh pe thap-thap karte hue.


Papa ke jaane ke baad, Mummy kitchen saaf karti, purane gaane gungunati, phir hamare balcony pe paudhon ko paani deti, unki high heels tiles pe dheeme se khatakati. Woh ghar jhadoo lagati, cushions thik karti, aur fridge check karti ke din ke shopping ka plan banaye, hamesha sab kuch thik rakhti thi kyunki unhe saaf-suthra ghar pasand tha.


Us din, main thaka hua tha, apne bistar pe let kar us ladki ke baare mein soch raha tha jisse main text kar raha tha. Mujhe woh bahut pasand aane lagi thi, soch raha tha ke kya main use girlfriend banne ke liye poochun.


Uski tasveer mere phone pe thi, aur main use dekh ke muskura raha tha, jab Mummy mere kamre mein aayi. Maine jaldi se phone takiye ke neeche chhupa diya, mere gaal garam ho gaye.


“Jai, utho! Tum mere saath bazaar chalo, madad karne,” Mummy ne kaha, unki awaaz khushi bhari lekin thodi sakht, chudiyan khanakti hui jab unhone apna dupatta thik kiya.


Maine aah bhari, kambal upar kheench liya. “Mummy, main thaka hua hoon. Aap akeli nahi ja sakti?”
Unhone ek bhaun uthayi, haath kamar pe rakhe, unki badi gaand tight churidar mein aur bhi badi lag rahi thi. “Thaka hua? Kis se, phone ghoorne se? Achhe ladke apni mummy ki madad karte hain, Jai.”


“Mere paas kaam hai,” maine dheeme se kaha, unki aankhon se bachta hua. Mujhe bazaar jaana pasand nahi tha Mummy ke saath. Wahan hamesha bheed hoti thi, garmi, aur shor, dukaandaar chillaate, log dhakka dete.


Sabse bura, mard Mummy ko ghoorte the, unki nazrein unke ghumav pe, khaas kar unki badi gaand pe, jo har kadam ke saath lehrati thi. Yeh mujhe uncomfortable karta tha—woh shadi-shuda thi, mere Papa ki biwi, aur mujhe pasand nahi tha ke log unhe aise dekhte jaise woh koi inaam ho.
Mummy nahi maani. 


“Kaam? Kaisa kaam? Din bhar texting? Chalo, Jai, mujhe tumhare mazboot baahon ki zarurat hai bags uthane ke liye.”
“Yahan madad kar sakta hoon,” maine kamzor awaaz mein kaha.


Woh hansi, unke jhumke hilte hue. “Oh, achha try! Tum chalogey, warna main tumhare Papa ko kahoongi tum aalsi ho rahe ho.” Woh kareeb aayi, mere kandhe pe mazaak mein chheda. “Achhe ladke apni mummy ko bhaari sabziyan akela nahi uthane dete.”


Maine aah bhari, jaanta tha woh jeet jaayengi. “Theek hai, Mummy, bas is baar.”

Unhone haath bajaye, unka haar chamakta hua. “Yeh hui na baat! Taiyaar ho jao, hum jaldi nikal rahe hain.”
Jab woh bahar chali gayi, main unki badi gaand ko ghoorta reh gaya, teal kapda uske poore, gol aakar ko gale laga raha tha. Woh ek atmvishwas bhare taal mein hilti thi, bold aur nazar andaaz karna namumkin.






Unhone mera desk ka drawer khola mere files thik karne ke liye—woh hamesha cheezein saaf-suthri rakhti thi—aur jhuki, unki gaand aur bhi badi lag rahi thi, jaise woh khaas taur pe ubharne ke liye bani ho. Unka saaf-suthre ka pyaar unke kagazon ko dher karne mein dikhayi diya, unki ungliyan tezi aur sahi thi.


Woh sundar lag rahi thi, unke lambe baal peeth pe lehrate hue, unka suit roshni mein chamakta hua, lekin woh itni normal thi, jaise unhe pata hi nahi tha woh kitni shandaar hain.


Mujhe pata tha bazaar mein mard unpe thuk lagaye honge, unki nazrein unke ghumav pe chipki hui, aur yeh mujhe gussa dilata tha. Woh Papa ki thi, aur unki bhookhi nazrein beizzati lagti thi, lekin Mummy bas apne aur Papa ke liye achhi dikhna chahti thi, unke liye nahi. Woh jaanti thi woh sundar hain lekin apne aap ko narmi se uthati thi, dhyaan ko kuch samajh ke taal deti thi.


Nikalne se pehle, maine Mummy ki kuch kaam mein madad ki. Maine unhe baithak mein dekha, ek chhote se sheeshe mein apna look thik karti hui. Unhone thodi lip gloss lagayi, dupatta thik kiya, aur ek loose baal kaan ke peeche daal diya, chudiyan dheeme se khanakti hui.


Unki high heels farsh pe khatakati thi jab woh harkat karti thi, sheeshe mein dekh ke har detail thik karti thi. Unhone halka perfume spray kiya, jasmine ki khushboo hawa mein bhar gayi, aur haar ko thik kiya ke woh sahi baithe. Woh shandaar dikhna chahti thi, aur dikh bhi rahi thi, lekin yeh sab itna aasaan lagta tha, jaise yeh unka ek hissa ho.


“Mujhe kyun jana padta hai, Mummy?” maine poocha, sofa ke sahare khada.
Woh palti, meethi muskurahat ke saath, unki awaaz pyaari. “Kyunki, Jai, mujhe tumhari company pasand hai. Aur kaun mujhe un chalaak dukaandaaron se bachayega? Tum mere helper ho, mera mazboot ladka.”


“Lekin wahan itni bheed hoti hai,” maine shikayat ki.
Woh hansi, aankhen chamakti hui. “Bheed ka matlab zindagi, Jai. Chalo, yeh ek adventure hai. Hum tumhare pasandida aam bhi lenge.” Unki garma-garam awaaz se jhagadna mushkil tha, aur main haar maan ke jootey utha liya.


Hum bazaar ki taraf chale, Mummy ki heels sadak pe khatakati hui, unka dupatta hawa mein lehrata hua. Bazaar shor aur chaos se bhara tha—dukaandaar taaze tamatar, masale, aur machhli ke baare mein chilla rahe the; gaadiyan chirchirati, log mool-bhaav karte, horn bajte. Mardon ki nazrein Mummy ke peeche chali, unki badi gaand teal suit mein lehrati hui.


Maine unki gandi baatein suni, aur mera khoon khaul gaya. Ek aadmi ne apne dost se dheeme se kaha, “Dekh us aurat ke curves, jaise devi ho.” Doosre ne kaha, “Uska backside ek truck rok sakta hai.”






Teesra bola, “Shaayad woh apni badi gaand ka istemaal karna jaanti hai, kya woh shadi-shuda hai?” Sabse bura ek banda tha jo muskura ke bola, “Woh badi gaand dhyaan maang rahi hai.” Main itna gussa tha, mere mutthi bandh gayi, unhe maarna chahta tha, lekin koi faayda nahi tha.


Mummy ki sundarta ek chumbak thi, aur chahe mujhe kitna bhi bura lage, woh hamesha sar ghumaati thi. Unhone kuch comments sune lekin unhe nazar andaaz kiya, unka chehra shant, jaise woh iski aadat thi.


Yeh mujhe gussa dilata tha, yeh bhookhe mard unhe ghoorte, beizzati karte jab woh shadi-shuda thi aur bas apna din guzaar rahi thi. Unki nazrein aisi thi jaise woh hamare parivaar se kuch chura rahe hon.


Hum Darshan ke grocery stall pe pahunche, 45 saal ka dukaandaar jahan Mummy hamesha taazi sabziyan lene jati thi. Uska stall taaze hare kheere, laal tamatar, aur palak se bhara tha, hawa mein mitti aur jadi-booti ki khushboo.


Darshan mota tha, zordaar awaaz aur ek muskurahat ke saath jo zyada hi dosti bhari lagti thi. Usne mujhe salaam kiya, “Jai, achha laga dekh ke, aaj mummy ki madad kar rahe ho?” Maine sar hilaya, zabardasti muskura ke, lekin mujhe woh pasand nahi tha. Woh hamesha Mummy se flirt karta tha, sabzi dete waqt unka haath chhoota ya zyada kareeb khada hota. Pichhle hafte, usne change dete waqt unka haath chhua, zyada der tak, aur maine dekha Mummy ne peeche hata, unki muskurahat nazuk lekin sakht thi.


“Prisha, aap hamesha ki tarah chamak rahi hain,” Darshan ne kaha, uski nazrein unpe ghoomti hui. “Aapki sundarta mere stall pe dhoop laati hai.”
Mummy muskuraayi, beparwah. “Shukriya, Darshan, lekin sabziyon pe dhyaan do. Yeh tamatar taaze hain?”


“Utne hi taaze jitni aapki chamak,” usne kaha, aankh maarte hue. “Subah chune gaye. Aur aapka khana toh jadoo hai—shaayad aapka doodh sab kuch swadisht banata hai.” Woh hansa, uski nazrein unke stan pe chali gayi.


Mummy ne sar tedha kiya, ya toh ganda mazak nahi samjhi ya jaan boojh ke taal diya. “Mera khana normal doodh se bhi thik hai, Darshan,” unhone halke se kaha, ek tamatar utha ke check kiya. “Yeh achhe lagte hain. Do kilo do.”


Main uspe ghoora, mera jabda tight. Uska “mazak” ganda tha, aur mujhe nafrat thi ke woh unhe aise baat karne ki himmat karta tha.






Jab Mummy kheere chun rahi thi, Darshan aur badi muskurahat ke saath bola. “Pata hai, Prisha, kuch auratein achha cucumber pasand karti hain. Kehte hain yeh… bhookh mitane ke liye perfect hai, din bhar khush rakhta hai.” Mujhe pata tha woh auraton ke masturbating ke baare mein baat kar raha tha.
Meri mummy kabhi masturbate nahi karti thi kyunki woh hamesha apni sexual bhookh mere Papa ke saath mitati thi, lekin yeh ganda dukaandaar sochta tha meri mummy aisi aurat hai.








Uska lehja chalaak tha, kuch ganda hint dete hue bina saaf bole.
Mummy ruk gayi, unki aankhen thodi si sikudi, saaf samajh aaya. Woh dheeme se hansi, use taal diya. “Mujhe bas salad ke liye chahiye, Darshan. Kuch fancy nahi. Aadha darjan do.”

[Deepak_bull]

dhanyavaad doston, main aaj agala episod post karoonga

[Deepak_bull]

CHAPTER 4


Mere papa ka surprise unke boss se. 







“Main tumhare liye sabse achhe chununga.” Woh counter ke paas se ek tokri santre leke aaya. Jab Mummy ne ek santre ke liye haath badhaya, usne apna haath jaldi se hilaya, jaan boojh ke unka haath chhua, uske kathor ungliyan unki naram twacha pe zyada der tak rahi. Uska haath phalon se ganda tha, aur yeh chhuna galat tha.


Mujhe jaldi gussa aaya. Mera dil zor se dhadka. “Main karoonga,” maine sakht awaaz mein kaha, uske dobara chhune se pehle santre ko chheen liya. Maine woh Mummy ko diya, unke beech mein deewar ki tarah khada hua. “Yeh achha hai, Mummy.”


Mummy ne mujhe dekha, thodi hairani lekin thodi muskurahat ke saath. “Jai, it’s okay. Darshan bas santre mein madad kar raha hai.”
Lekin Darshan ne dekha maine kya kiya. Uska haath hawa mein ruk gaya, jaise maine usse thappad maar diya ho. Mummy ne awkward pal mehsoos kiya aur thoda door hati, narmi se palak dekhne ke liye aage badhi.



Unki aankhen uski aankhon se mili, dekha ke woh unke stan aur kamar ko kaise ghoor raha tha, jaise gande khayal soch raha ho. Unhone ek aur chhota kadam peeche liya, unki saree se dheemi si awaaz aayi.


Darshan ne unhe door jaate dekha, aur ek chhupa hua muskurahat uske chehre pe aaya, uske daant peele. Usne apne hont dheere se chaata, uski jeebh aise hili jaise woh bhookha ho, unke haath ki taraf dekhte hue. Yeh ghinona tha, woh dheema chaatna, gande khayalon se bhara.


Yeh mujhe itna gussa dilaya—sirf isliye nahi ke yeh creepy tha, balki kyunki woh soch raha tha ke Mummy, mere Papa ki biwi, kuch hai jo woh chah sakta hai. Woh bewakoof tha, ek shadi-shuda aadmi jiske bacche the, sochta tha ke Mummy uske bhaande tricks pasand karegi. Woh apne aap ko smart samajhta tha, lekin bas bevakoof tha, yeh maanta ke uski muskurahat unka dhyaan kheench sakti hai jab woh wafadar thi aur usse kahi zyada behtar.


Mummy shant rahi aur gajar ke paas chali gayi, naatak karti hui ke woh unhe check kar rahi thi taaki usse bacha jaye. “Yeh gajar taaze hain, Darshan? Aaj ke?” Jab woh thoda jhuki ek gajar chunne ke liye, unki badi gaand bahut hili, natural taur pe kyunki unka jism bhara aur mazboot tha.



giff 3







Hari saree, jo unki badi gaand pe tight lapeti hui thi, bhi hili, jaise paani mein lehar, unke gol nitambon pe chipakti aur phir har kadam ke saath chhoot jati.
Yeh nazar hatana mushkil tha, jis tarah kapda har hilore ko dikhata tha, atmvishwas aur sundarta se bhara bina unke koshish kiye.
Darshan ki aankhen seedhe unki badi naram gaand pe gayi.


Uska muskurahat aur bada, creepy ho gaya, uska chehra laal pad gaya. Woh ek tak ghoorta raha, bina palken jhapkaye, unki gaand ke har harkat ko dekhta, saree ka har jhatka.


Uska muh thoda khula, saans bhari, jaise woh ek sapne mein phansa ho. Woh aage jhuka, doosre logon ko bhool gaya jo intezaar kar rahe the, bazaar ka shor, sab kuch—bas unke ghumav mein khoya, wahi sochta jo sirf Papa ko sochna chahiye.


Tabhi, ek zordaar awaaz aayi. Kuch santre tokri se gir gaye, zameen pe lade. Darshan ne galti se unhe thok diya, Mummy ki gaand ko ghoorte hue zyada aage jhuk kar.


Mummy jaldi palti, chinta mein. “Darshan, tum theek ho? Santre gir gaye—main uthane mein madad karti hoon.”


Woh jaldi jhapka, sharminda laga lekin abhi bhi chhupa muskurahat. “Oh, Prisha ji, koi baat nahi, bas aaj sakhtpan. Aapki sundarta ek aadmi ko apne aap pe girati hai, pata hai?”


Mummy dheeme se hansi, dhyaan se jhuk kar ek santre uthaya, apni saree thik rakhte hue. “Sakhtpan? Tum aksar apne phalon ke saath achhe hote ho. Yeh lo, ek mila. Theek hai.”


Woh hansa, apni gardan khujate hue. “Haan, sab theek. Lekin sach mein, Prisha ji, aap is bazaar ko suraj ki tarah chamkaati hain. Yeh santre? Aapke liye free.”


Main aur nahi seh saka. Unki badi gaand abhi bhi dikh rahi thi jab woh jhuki, aur Darshan ki aankhen wahan phir chipak gayi, uski muskurahat jaise tapak rahi ho. Main seedhe Mummy ke peeche khada ho gaya, lamba khada hua taaki uska nazar band ho, unki gaand poori tarah chhupa di.


Maine yeh kiya kyunki mujhe pata tha woh ghoorta rahega, hont chaatega, unhe ajeeb mehsoos karayega chahe woh theek ka naatak kare. Unke bete ke roop mein, mujhe unhe aise logon se bachana tha, unki izzat ko uske gande nazron se surakshit rakhna tha.
Saree itni tight thi, ek aur jhatka, aur woh pagal ho jata.


Darshan ka chehra jaldi badla.


Uska muskurahat gusse mein badal gaya, uski bhaun ek saath aayi, gaal phoole, aankhen chhoti aur gusse wali mujhe ghoorti hui. Uska muh tight bandh, naak phulayi—woh naraaz tha, jaise maine uska khel kharab kar diya. Woh dekhna chahta tha, aur mera wahan khada hona uske ghamand ko chot pahunchaya.


Maine sar thoda ghumaya, use sakht nazar di—mera jabda tight, aankhen garam, hont ek line mein. “Bas karo,” meri nazar ne kaha. Darshan peeche hata, uska gussa toot gaya. Woh neeche dekha, santre uthate hue, apne aap se bolta hua, jaldi aur ghabraye hue, jaise ek baccha pakda gaya ho kuch galat karte hue. Usne dobara chhune ya muskurane ki koshish nahi ki, bas chup raha.


“Mummy,” maine dheeme se unke kaan mein kaha, unka haath chhua. “Hume jana hai. Abhi.”
Woh khadi hui, gajar pakde, confused dikh rahi. “Jai, kya hua? Hum abhi poore nahi hue. Santre almost tayyar hain, aur mujhe kuch aur cheezein chahiye.”
“Nahi, Mummy, please. Chalo. Mujhe… mere dost ko homework ke liye call karna hai. Zaruri hai. Santre kal le lenge.”


Unhone sar tedha kiya, unki bhoori aankhen mujhe dekhti hui. “Homework? Jai, tum kabhi bazaar ke beech mein homework ki parwah nahi karte. Kya ho raha hai? Tum theek ho, beta?”
“Haan, main theek hoon. Bas… ghar chalo.”


Unhone aah bhari lekin dheeme se muskuraayi. “Theek hai, beta. Agar itna zaruri hai. Lekin agli baar, koi bhaag-daud nahi.”
Jab hum palte chale, Mummy ki badi gaand sabki nazar kheench rahi thi. Saree unke saath hili, kapda unki twacha pe sarakta, har kadam ke saath unke gaal thoda uchalte. Log baat karna band kar dete. Auratein jalti thi. Mard ek tak ghoorte.


Ek budha aadmi, shaayad 80 saal ka, ek phal ki gaadi ke paas chhadi pe sahara leke khada, kuch pagalpan wala kiya. Woh seedha khada hua, uski purani aankhen chamki, aur zordaar seeti bajayi—ek dheemi, rude awaaz. “Wah, dekho us aurat ki chal! Woh badi gaand ek adbhut hai!” Woh hansa, apni chhadi thokta hua, doosre dukaandaaron ko bhi hasne ke liye majboor kiya.


Mummy ke gaal gulabi ho gaye, lekin woh chalti rahi, jaise suna nahi. Maine use ghoora, meri mutthi tight, chillana chahta tha.
Nikalne se pehle, Mummy ruk kar paise dene lagi. Unhe bhi mehsoos hua ke unhe jaldi hatna hai warna doosre mard gandi baatein karenge. “Darshan, kheere, tamatar, aur gajar ke kitne paise?” Mummy ne poocha.


Darshan ne jaldi hisaab kiya, uski aankhen abhi bhi chupke se unki gaand pe ja rahi thi, chahe main wahan tha. “150 rupaye, Prisha ji. Lekin aapke liye, 140 kar do.”
Unhone paise diye. “Shukriya. Change rakh lo.”


Usne dheere se paise liye, ek chhupa matlab wali muskurahat ke saath. “Kab wapas aa rahi ho, Prisha ji? Kal? Aap meri sabse achhi customer—hamesha mera din behtar banati ho.”


Uska “sabse achhi” shabd sirf kharidari ke baare mein nahi tha. Yeh chhupa tha, jaise woh matlab nikal raha ho ke woh sabse sundar hai, jise woh sochta tha, sabse upar wali aurat jo usne dekhi. Yeh uska flirt karne ka tareeka tha bina saaf bole, gande khayalon se bhara.


Mummy ne achhe se jawab diya, ya toh notice nahi kiya ya taal diya. “Shaayad kal, Darshan. Hume hamesha taazi sabziyan chahiye. Tum ek achha dukaandaar ho—hamesha achha samaan rakhte ho.”


Woh badi muskurahat ke saath hansa, phir mujhe dekha. “Alvida, Jai beta. Jaldi milte hain.”
Maine kuch nahi kaha. Bas ghoora, baahen bandh karke, palat gaya. Main chahta tha ke woh meri nazar se samjhe ke main uska khel dekh chuka hoon.







Mummy chali gayi, unki badi gaand lehar ki tarah hili, saree chipakti aur sarakti, dhoop mein chamakti. Darshan apne stall se dekhta raha, uski aankhen chipki hui, udaas dikhayi diya—kandhe jhuke, muskurahat gayab, ek bhari saans. Usne ek santre ko halke se thok diya, naraaz.


Main Mummy ke bilkul peeche chala, kareeb reh ke unki badi gaand ko Darshan aur doosron se chhupaya. Maine unke kadam ke saath kadam milaya, unke bade nitambon ke hilne ka nazara bandh kiya. Yeh kaam kiya; hamare peeche kisi ne zyada nahi dekha. Lekin andar se mujhe bura laga—sach mein bura. Ab mujhe pata tha ke mujhe Mummy ke saath har jagah jana hoga.


Bazaar, padosi ke ghar, jahan bhi unki sundarta dikhti thi. Darshan jaise mard hamesha ghoorenge, gande khayal sochenge, rude mazak karenge. Unke ghumav is bhookhe mardon ki duniya mein mushkil the. Main unka rakshak banunga, hamesha dekhunga. Yeh bhari laga, lekin mujhe karna tha—Papa ke liye, unki izzat ke liye.


“Mummy, aapne itna time kyun liya?” maine kaha, meri awaaz teekhi, Darshan ke bartav se gussa.
Unhone peeche dekha, hairani se. “Jai, zyada time nahi laga. Aaj tumhe kya ho gaya? Itna gussa kyun?”
“Kuch nahi. Bas… agli baar jaldi chalo. Bazaar irritating hai.”


Woh hansi, mera haath apne baah se jodte hue. “Irritating? Ya tum bhookhe ho? Batao, beta, kya woh ladki hai jisse tum text kar rahe ho? Tum ajeeb behave kar rahe ho.”
“Nahi, Mummy. Bas ghar chalo.”


Andar se, main Darshan pe gussa tha—uske ghoorne, chhune, uske gande mazak. Main unhe nahi bata sakta tha. Yeh unhe bura laga dega, unhe apne dikhawe ke baare mein chinta hogi. Unhe iski zarurat nahi thi. Isliye main chup raha, zabardasti muskura ke.


Mummy ki badi gaand mardon ko sar dard kyun deti thi? Yeh jaise ek jadoo tha. Unki gaand bhari, mazboot, naram thi, thodi si hilti thi ke mard sapne dekhne lagen. Jaise ek perfect phal, gol aur pakka, saree usse gift wrap ki tarah lapet rahi thi.


Mardon ke sar isliye dard karte kyunki woh usse chahte the—sochte the usse chhune ka, shaayad aur bhi. Lekin yeh unki pahunch se door tha: woh shadi-shuda thi, wafadar, shaan se chalti thi.


Darshan shaayad ghar ja ke sar dard ke saath socha hoga unke baare mein sari raat, bas apne khayalon mein phansa. Unki gaand ek problem thi kyunki woh bahut perfect thi, aise hilti thi jaise uska apna geet ho, mardon ko bechain karta bina kisi ummeed ke.


Hum lambi chal ke ghar pahunche. Mummy thaki hui dikh rahi thi, unka chehra garmi se laal, saree thodi bikhri, pallu sarak ke blouse zyada dikha raha tha. Woh apne aap ko pankha kar rahi thi, chudiyan khanak rahi thi. “Jai, yeh mushkil tha. Bags kitchen mein rakh do, beta.”


Maine sar hilaya, unhe andar le gaya. Lekin jab hum baithak mein aaye, Papa wahan the—sofa pe baithe, tie dheeli, badi muskurahat ke saath. Woh jaldi ghar aaye the! Yeh normal nahi tha.


Papa kabhi shaam se pehle nahi aate; Coastal Horizon Logistics ka kaam unhe docks pe der tak rakhta tha, jahazon aur kagazon ke saath. Jaldi aana sirf bade events ya problems ke liye hota tha.


“Papa? Tum ghar pe?” maine kaha, bags neeche rakhte hue.
Mummy ki aankhen badi ho gayi, unki thakan gayab. Woh daudi, saree sarsarati hui. “Kishore! Kya hua? Kaam pe sab theek hai?”


Papa khade hue, unhe zor se gale lagaya, unke haath unki kamar pe. Uski muskurahat sach thi, woh thaki hui nahi jo aksar hoti thi. “Sab kuch shandaar hai, Prisha. Jai, idhar aao, beta.”
Hum unke aaspaas sofa pe baithe. Mummy unke kandhe pe jhuki. “Batao,” unhone kaha, curious. “Tum jaldi kyun? Jahazon ke saath kuch hua?”


Papa hansa, unka haath pakadte hue. “Nahi, koi problem nahi. Asal mein, kuch achha.”
Main aage jhuka. “Kya, Papa? Tum itne khush lag rahe ho. Sach mein khush.”


Woh sar hilaye, aankhen chamakti hui. “Theek hai, suno. Aaj subah, Mr. Davendra, mera boss, ne mujhe apne office bulaya. Tumhe pata hai, mera boss—jise tum thappad marna chahti thi, Prisha?”
Mummy ne saans roki, hansi. “Tumne usse bataya? Kishore, mat karo!”


Papa muskuraaye. “Nahi, pyar, maine nahi bataya. Lekin woh mere kaam se khush tha. Company ko naye shares mile, zyada cargo, bade deals.”
“Haan, tumne yeh kaha tha,” maine kaha. “Lekin jaldi kyun ghar?”


“Ruko, Jai,” Papa ne chheda. “Mr. Davendra ne kaha main shandaar kaam kar raha hoon—koi delay nahi, khush clients. Toh, unhone mujhe promote kiya. Logistics Supervisor! Zyada paise, kam der raat, aur unhone kaha ke woh hum chaaron ko ek tour pe le jana chahte hain.”
Mummy ne khushi se chilla ke unhe gale lagaya. “Kishore! Sach mein?”

[Deepak_bull]

Thank you guys, update coming very soon

[Deepak_bull]

CHAPTER 5


Maa ne pehli baar papa ke boss, Mr. Davendra, ki awaaz suni."







“Prisha,” Papa ne kaha, apna cup neeche rakhte hue, “Davendra is baare mein serious hai. Woh hume ek achha din bahar ghumane le jana chahta hai. Shaayad dinner ya kuch fancy.”


Mummy palti, haath mein lakdi ka chamcha, chudiyan dheeme se khanakti hui. “Fancy, huh? Theek hai, shayad main usse thappad nahi maarungi, kyunki woh mere mehnati pati ke liye itna generous hai.” Unhone ek mazaakiya muskurahat di, aankhen sharaarat se chamakti hui.


Papa zordaar hase, apni chai almost gira di. “Oh, ab tum usse aasani se chhod rahi ho? Kal toh bas ‘Main docks pe jaake usse dimag ka ek tukda doongi!’”


Main bhi hansa, apna paratha nigalte hue atak gaya. “Mummy, tum sach mein Papa ke boss ko thappad maarogi?”


Unhone chamcha mujh pe hilaya, sakht banne ka naatak karte hue. “Jai, mujhe tempt mat karo! Lekin agar woh hume bahar le ja raha hai, toh main achhi banungi. Shayad bas usse ek chhoti si lecture doongi ke mere Kishore ko zyada kaam na de.”


Papa ne sar hilaya, abhi bhi hanste hue. “Tum mushkil ho, Prisha. Lekin Davendra achha aadmi hai. Sakht hai, lekin dil ka bhi hai. Tum dekhogi jab usse milogi.”


Main aage jhuka, curious. “Woh kaisa hai, Papa? Tum uske baare mein baat karte ho, lekin main uski tasveer nahi bana sakta.”


Papa ne thodi der socha, apni daadi ragadte hue. “Woh lamba, chauda, awaaz aisi ke jahaz ko theek se dock karne pe majboor kar de. Lekin nishpaksh hai. Jab main achha kaam karta hoon toh hamesha haath milata hai. Tumhe pasand aayega, Jai.”


Mummy ne beech mein kaha, stove pe paratha palatte hue. “Jab tak woh tumhe der tak nahi rakhta, mujhe bhi pasand aayega. Ab, kaise jagah ke baare mein soch rahe ho woh hume le jayega? Kahin music wali? Ya shayad ek bada restaurant?”


Papa ke jawab dene se pehle, unka phone baj utha, table pe zordaar ghoomta hua. Unhone screen dekhi, aankhen badi ho gayi. “Yeh Davendra hai.” Unhone ek ungli uthayi, hume chup rehne ka ishara kiya. “Shh, mujhe yeh lena hai.”


Mummy, jo abhi biryani check karne kitchen gayi thi, daud ke wapas aayi, unki saree sarsarati hui, chehre pe curiosity aur excitement ka mix. Woh mere paas wali kursi pe baith gayi, sunne ke liye kareeb jhuki. Papa ne call speaker pe daal diya, phone ko dhyaan se rakha.


“Davendra sir, good morning,” Papa ne kaha, unki awaaz respectful lekin garma-garam.
“Kishore!” phone se ek awaaz aayi, karkash aur gehri, jaise toofan mein bajri goonj rahi ho. 


Yeh kamre mein bhari, mazboot aur hukum dene wali, aisi awaaz jo tumhe seedha baithne pe majboor kare. “Main bas tumhare baare mein soch raha tha. Woh pichhla shipment? Behadam. Tum mujhe upar walon ke saamne achha dikha rahe ho, dost.”


Papa ka chehra chamak utha, ek garv bhari muskurahat phaili. “Shukriya, sir. Bas apna kaam kar raha hoon.”
Maine Mummy ke saath ek nazar exchange ki. 


Yeh pehli baar thi jab humne Mr. Davendra ki awaaz suni, aur yeh intense thi—karkash jaise sandpaper, gehri jaise samundar jisme Papa kaam karte hain. Yeh sirf zordaar nahi thi; isme wazan tha, authority, jaise har shabd dhyaan mangta ho.


Maine turant Mummy ka reaction dekha jab woh Davendra ki awaaz phone pe sun rahi thi.
Woh thodi si kaanpi, bas kandhon mein ek halka sa kampan, unki ungliyan table ke kinare pe zor se pakad gayi. 


Unki aankhen badi ho gayi, hont thoda sa khule, jaise awaaz ne unme ek chingaari bheji ho. Yeh halka tha, lekin maine dekha—unki saans tezi se chali, gaal thodi si laal ho gaye unke natural glow ke neeche.
Davendra ki awaaz itni gehri thi, Papa ki awaaz se bhi zyada gehri.


Auratien aisi awaaz pe kyun kaanpti hain? Maine socha. Davendra jaisi awaaz sirf sound nahi thi—yeh taakat thi, kacchi aur mardana, hawa mein goonjti hui jaise dhol ki thap.


Shaayad yeh auraton ko taakat, suraksha, ya kuch purana yaad dilati thi, andar gehre feelings jagati thi bina unhe pata chale kyun. Mummy ke liye, shayad yeh bas ek surprise thi, iski intensity ne unhe off guard pakda.


Woh Papa ke liye wafadar thi, koi shak nahi, lekin aisi awaaz kisi ko bhi rukne pe majboor kar sakti thi, jaise ek jhatke wali hawa. Maine ise jhatak diya, apne aap se kaha yeh normal hai—bas ek reaction, kuch zyada nahi. Mummy thi Mummy, adamya.


Call pe wapas, Davendra bolta raha. “Kishore, tumne yeh promotion kamaaya hai, aur main tumhare parivaar ke saath celebrate karna chahta hoon. Kahan jana chahoge? Dinner? Ek din ka trip? Bolo, aur ho gaya.”


Papa hairaan dikhayi diye, sar khujate hue. “Uh, sir, yeh bahut meherbani hai. Main… abhi nahi jaanta. Kya main apni biwi se pooch sakta hoon?”


Davendra ki hansi speaker se goonji, gehri aur karkash. “Bilkul! Ek smart aadmi hamesha apni biwi se poochta hai. Waqt lo, lekin jaldi batao.”


Papa ne Mummy ki taraf dekha, bhaun uthayi, chupke se jawab mangte hue. Mummy ne jhapki, off guard pakdi gayi, hont soch mein bandh kiye. Unhone sar halka sa hilaya, jaise koi idea nahi tha. Papa ne meri taraf dekha, ummeed se. “Jai? Koi idea?”


Maine kandhe uchkaye, utna hi khoya hua. “Uh, shayad ek restaurant? Pata nahi, Papa.”


Mummy Papa ke kareeb khisak aayi, unki saree unke baah ko chhooti, aur jhuk kar dheeme se kaha taaki Davendra na sune. Unki saans unke kaan pe naram thi, awaaz dheemi taaki private rahe.


Woh nahi chahti thi ke boss soche woh faisla sambhaal rahi hai, chahe woh aksar hamare parivaar ke plans ko chalati thi. Unki kareebi dhyaan se thi, almost sharmaati hui, jaise phone pe gehri awaaz ne unhe chhupna chahta tha, khud pe dhyaan nahi khichna.


Unhone kuch kaha, aur Papa ka chehra chamak gaya, sar hilaya. Woh phone ki taraf palte. “Sir, ek achha trip kaisa rahega? Mere parivaar ko achha khana, music pasand hai, aur yeh ek achhi family night ke liye jagah hai.”


Davendra ki awaaz pasandigi se goonji. “Achha choice, Kishore. Kal shaam, main ek trip chununga aur tumhare parivaar ko surprise karoonga, shaam 7 baje. Main ek private plane book karoonga. Apni biwi aur bete ko lao—main unse milne ka intezaar kar raha hoon.”


“Shukriya, sir,” Papa ne kaha, unki awaaz shukragyata se garma-garam. “Yeh hamare liye bahut matlab rakhta hai.”
“Kamaaya hai, dost. Kal milte hain.” Call ek click ke saath khatam hua.


Jaise hi phone chup hua, Mummy aur Papa khushi se uchhal pade. Mummy ne Papa ke gale mein baahen daal di, unki saree lehrati, chudiyan zordaar khanakti hui. “Kishore! Ek fancy trip! Tum shandaar ho!”
Papa hansa, unhe kareeb kheenchte hue. “Hum shandaar hain, Prisha. Tum is parivaar ko jod ke rakhti ho.”


Main bhi kood pada, khud ko rok nahi saka, dono ko ek bade gale mein pakad liya. “Yeh awesome hone wala hai! Ek real restaurant!”


Papa ne Mummy ke maathe pe chuma, phir honton pe, ek jaldi lekin pyaara chumma. Woh sharma gayi, unka haath mazaak mein thapthapayi. “Kishore, Jai ke saamne nahi!”


Mummy meri taraf palti, abhi bhi chamakti hui. “Tumhare papa ne itni mehnat ki, Jai. Yeh promotion, yeh dinner—sab unki wajah se hai.”


Main muskuraaya. “Haan, Papa ab boss hain! Lekin, uh, hum taiyaari kaise karenge? Davendra ne kaha kal. Kya pehne? Kya kare?”


Papa wapas baithe, Mummy ko apni god mein kheench liya, unki badi gaand unke khilaaf aram se baithi. “Achha sawal, Jai. Yeh ek fancy trip hai, woh hume surprise karenge, toh hum achhe kapde pehnenge. Prisha, tumhare paas ek million saree hain—kuch shandaar chuno.”


Mummy hansi, unke baal uchalte hue. “Ek million? Oh, Kishore, main kuch dhoond loongi. Lekin tum? Woh purana suit nahi chalega. Hume tumhare liye nayi shirt chahiye, shayad ek tie.”


Maine sar hilaya. “Haan, Papa, tumhe sharp dikhna hai. Aur main? Mere paas toh fancy kapde bhi nahi!”
Papa hansa. “Hum kuch kar lenge. Shayad kal udaan se pehle ek jaldi shopping trip. Prisha, koi idea kahan?”


Mummy ne apni thodi pe thapthapaya, sochte hue. “Woh dukaan bazaar ke paas—Verma’s. Wahan achhe kapde hain, zyada mehenge nahi. Jai, tumhe ek achha kurta chahiye. Aur Kishore, ek proper shirt. Hum aaj chalte hain.”


Maine aah bhari, bazaar ke chaos ko yaad karke. “Aaj? Mummy, hum aaj hi wahan gaye the, tumhe woh bazaar hamesha kyun chahiye?!”


Unhone ek bhaun uthayi, mazaakiya lekin sakht. “Jai, yeh tumhare papa ke bade din ke liye hai. Tum Mr. Davendra ke saamne achhe dikhna chahte ho, na? Waise bhi, main tumhare pasandida aam khareed doongi.”


Papa hansa, unka haath dabate hue. “Usne tumhe pakad liya, Jai. Chalo, jaldi karenge. Andar-bahar, phir kal ke liye taiyaar.”
Baatcheet chali, khushi aur plans se bhari, jab tak humne Verma’s jana tay kiya.


Papa ke boss se milne ka, fancy jagah pe khane ka khayal ek sapne jaisa laga. Hamara parivaar ruk nahi sakta tha, pyaar aur is naye adhyay se bandha hua.


Baad mein, jab Mummy biryani khatam karne kitchen wapas gayi, main sofa pe baitha, Davendra ke call ke dauraan Mummy ke kampan ke baare mein soch raha tha. Unhone aisa kyun react kiya? Davendra ki awaaz itni karkash, itni gehri thi, jaise deewaren hila sakti ho.


Yeh sirf zordaar nahi thi—isme taakat thi, ek mazbooti jo seene mein lagti thi. Auraton ke liye, shayad yeh suraksha jaisa laga, ek leader ki awaaz, andar kuch jagati hui bina matlab ke.


Shayad Mummy ne ek chingaari mehsoos ki, pyaar nahi, bas ek insaani reaction us tarah ki taakat pe. Woh Papa ki biwi thi, koi shak nahi, lekin aisi awaaz kisi ko bhi rukne pe majboor kar sakti thi.


Maine ise jhatak diya, apne aap se kaha yeh kuch nahi—bas ek normal cheez, jaise zordaar awaaz pe uchhalna. Mummy thi Mummy, wafadar aur mazboot.


Agli subah, main Mummy ko jagane unke kamre mein gaya. Papa abhi nahi uthe the, shayad khushi se thake hue. Maine Mummy ko pet ke bal sote dekha, unki bhoori saree unke jism pe uljhi hui, silk unke sharir pe doosri twacha ki tarah chipki hui.











Is position ne unki badi gaand ko aur bada dikhaya, saree uske poore, gol aakar ko outline karti hui, ghumav kapde ke neeche pahadon ki tarah ubharte hue. Yeh nazar na hatana namumkin tha—bold, numaya, almost pura bistar gher liya.


Maine koshish ki na dekhu, unke chehre pe dhyaan diya, jo sote mein shant tha, unke lambe baal takiye pe bikhre hue. Kyun bacha? Kyunki woh meri mummy thi, aur ghoorna galat laga, beizzati jaisa, chahe unki sundarta na mani jaye. Maine nazar zameen pe kar di, sar hila ke khayal saaf kiya.



“Mummy,” maine dheeme se kaha, unke kandhe pe thapthapate hue. “Utho. Hume bazaar kapde ke liye jana hai.”
Woh hili, neend mein jhapakte hue, awaaz sust. “Jai? Itni jaldi? Kitna time hua?”


“Subah hai, lekin aapne kaha hume udaan se pehle shopping karni hai. Chalo, utho.”
Unhone jamhaai li, baith gayi, saree thodi si sarak gayi jisse blouse zyada dikha. 


“Theek hai, theek hai, beta. Ek minute do taiyaar hone ke liye. Tum aaj jaldi mein ho.”
“Haan, bada din hai. Der nahi honi chahiye.”

[Deepak_bull]

Dhanyavaad doston, tumhaare acche comments ke liye. Agla chapter aaj post kiya jaayega, is kahani mein abhi bahut kuch baaki hai."

[Deepak_bull]

CHAPTER 6


"Main, meri maa aur papa bazaar mein hain, jahan har taraf badtameez log bhare hue hain."





Woh muskuraayi, khul ke stretch karte hue. “Tum is breakfast ke liye excited ho, na? Theek hai, jaldi karte hain.”
Main unke kamre se baithak mein gaya, jahan Papa sofa pe so rahe the, unka haath chehre pe daala hua, dheeme se kharrate le rahe the. Woh yahan kyun? Mujhe laga woh raat bhar jaagte rahe, shayad Mummy se baat karte ya trip plan karte, aur unhe jagaye bina yahan so gaye. Sofa unka jaaygaaz tha jab unhe jaldi neend chahiye bina kisi ko disturb kiye.


Maine unke kandhe ko hilaya. “Papa, utho. Hume shopping jana hai.”
Woh aah bhare, aankhen ragadte hue. “Jai? Itni jaldi? Paanch minute aur sone do.”
“Koi chance nahi, Papa. Mummy taiyaar ho rahi hain. Chalo.”



Woh baithe, hanste hue. “Theek hai, bossy. Tumhari mummy kahan hai?”
“Taiyaar ho rahi hain. Chalo.”


Hum baithak mein jama hue, nikalne ko taiyaar. Mummy ne maroon dress badal li thi floral pattern wali, kapda lehrata lekin itna tight ke unke ghumav dikhte. Unke lambe baal khule the, chamakdar leheron mein peeth pe beh rahe, roshni pakadte hue jaise nadi.


Woh sexy lag rahi thi, dress kamar ko gale lagaati aur hips pe phailti, unki badi gaand hamesha ki tarah numaya, har kadam ke saath lehrati. Main gusse mein tha, unpe nahi—unke sundarta pe, khaas kar gaand pe, jo hamesha dikhayi deti, jahan bhi jaaye nazrein kheenchti.


Yeh unki galti nahi thi, lekin mujhe gussa aata—mard ghoorenge, dheeme baatein karenge, mere Papa ki biwi ke baare mein galat sochenge. Unki gaand ek ishaara thi, bold aur bhari, nazar andaaz karna namumkin, aur mujhe pata tha bazaar phir se ghoorne aur dheemi baaton ki ladai hogi.


“Theek hai,” Papa ne kaha, chaabi uthate hue. “Kahan shopping? Verma’s?”

Mummy ne sar hilaya, jhumke thik karte hue. “Haan, paas hai, aur achhe kapde hain. Jai, tumhe kurta chahiye. Kishore, nayi shirt.”
Maine aah bhari. “Jaldi kar sakte hain? Mujhe bazaar ki bheed se phir nahi deal karna.”



Papa hansa, mere kandhe pe thapad maara. “Jai, relax. Yeh achhe kaam ke liye hai. Tum Davendra ke saamne sharp lago.”
Mummy muskuraayi, baal bandhte hue. “Aur woh aam bhi lenge, Jai. Deal?”

“Theek hai,” maine dheeme se kaha, lekin andar se ghoorne ka dar tha.


Nikalte waqt, Mummy ruk gayi, haath darwaze pe. “Oh, ruko! Kuch bhool gayi.”
Papa ne aah bhari, lekin aankhen mazaak se chamki. “Prisha, chalo na. Tumne kuch nahi bhoola. Bas lipstick dobara check karna chahti ho, ya jhumke, na?”








Woh hansi, unka haath thapthapaya. “Chup, Kishore. Main jaldi.” Woh jhuki, Papa ke honton pe naram chuma diya, phir mere gaal pe. “Main abhi aati hoon, beta. Bina mere mat nikalna.”


Woh palti aur ghar mein wapas chali, maroon dress kadam ke saath lehrati, unki badi gaand saaf hilti, floral kapda uske ghumav se chipka, apna hi taal mein uchalti.


Har gaal alag hili, bhari aur gol, dress thoda stretch hui motion ko sambhalne ke liye, nazar ko chumbak ki tarah kheenchti. Yeh bold thi, atmvishwas bhari, unki sundarta ka natural hissa, lekin mera pet ghum gaya—jaanta tha har mard jo guzrega notice karega, jaise kal.


Hum darwaze pe intezaar kiye, Papa dheeme hanste. “Tumhari mummy,” unhone kaha, sar hilate.
“Hamesha perfect banne ki fikar.”


Maine sar hilaya, zabardasti muskura ke, lekin dimag bazaar pe, ghoorne pe, aur Mr. Davendra ke saath aane wale din pe. Hamara parivaar is naye adventure ke liye taiyaar tha, lekin main dekhunga, hamesha Mummy ko duniya ki bhookhi nazron se bachayunga.


Hum Papa ke boss ke saath bade dinner ke liye kapde kharidne bazaar pahunche. Dhoop garam thi, sadak logon se bhari. Mummy aage chal rahi thi, unki maroon floral dress jism ko gale lagi hui.


Unke lambe baal peeth pe beh rahe the jaise siyah nadi. Unki badi gaand har kadam ke saath lehrati, dress uske aaspaas tight, usse bhara aur gol dikhati. Papa paas chal rahe the, shirts ke baare mein baat karte. Main peeche kareeb, bheed ko dekhta.







Main itna gusse mein tha. Har taraf mard Mummy ko ghoor rahe the. Unki nazrein unke ghumav pe, stan pe, gaand pe chipki. Ek fruit stall wala paan chabna band kar diya, muh khula. Doosra bike pe jhuka, dost se dheeme bola. Yeh mujhe gussa deta, seene mein aag jaisi.


Har nazar unpe galat lagi, jaise bina ijazat chhu rahe hon. Woh Papa ki biwi thi, meri mummy, unke liye aise dekhne ke liye nahi. Papa ko pata nahi tha. Woh sochte the mard andhe hain ya kuch. Woh muskura ke dukaanon ki taraf ishara karte, “Dekho, Prisha, woh kurtas ke liye achhi hai.” Woh kabhi nazrein notice nahi karte. Unke liye yeh normal chal thi.


Bazaar ki sadak khatam hui, aur paas mall ki sadak thi. Woh bhookhe mardon se bhari—khareeddaar, ghumakkad, deewar ke paas cigarette peete. Woh aankhon se khaane ko taiyaar dikhte. Maine unhe pehle hi dekha, bhediyon ki tarah intezaar karte.


“Mummy,” maine unka haath halke se kheenchte hue kaha. “Us taraf mat jao. Bahut bheed hai. Verma's ke liye doosri raah le lete hain.”
Woh palti, muskura ke. “Jai, kya? Yeh sabse chhoti raah hai. Chinta mat kar, beta.”


Papa ne suna aur sar hilaya. “Haan, Jai, mall street theek hai. Wahan bhi dukaanein hain. Behtar deal mil sakti hai.”


“Lekin Papa, yeh... ganda hai. Aur garam. Ise avoid karte hain,” maine kaha, sach chhupate hue. Sach yeh tha ke main nahi chahta tha ke mard meri mummy ko dekhein. Main nahi keh sakta tha, “Mard Mummy ki gaand ghoorenge.”


Mummy ne mere gaal pe thapthapaya. “Jai, chinta chhodo. Bas ek sadak hai. Hum saath hain. Kuch bura nahi hoga.”
Papa ne faisla kiya. “Chalo, wahan se guzarte hain. Jaldi ho jayega.”


Mujhe Papa pe thoda gussa aaya. Unhe pata nahi tha main unki biwi ko un mardon se bacha raha tha. Unhone unhe us bheed mein jaane diya, soch ke kuch nahi hai. Meri mutthi bandh gayi, lekin main peeche chala.


Hum mall street se guzre. Shor bhara tha—horn bajte, dukaandaar chillaate “Taaze shirts! Best daam!” Phone shops se music goonjta. Kapde har taraf latke, chamakdar rang hawa mein lehrate. Mard groups mein khade, cigarette peete, baatein karte.


Jab Mummy chali, woh aankh maare. Ek joota stall wala aankh maar ke bola, “Sundar memsaab, mere heels try karo!” Doosre watch shop wale ne chumma udaya. Auratein bhi hairaan, dheeme bolti, “Dekho uski dress. Kitni sundar!”


Mummy ko gussa aaya. Gaal gulabi. Unhone ignore kiya, seedha dekhte hue, Papa ka haath zor se pakda. Lekin nazrein nahi ruki.
Maine mardon ki gandi baatein suni. Woh sochte the koi nahi sun raha, lekin maine suni.


Person 1, patla t-shirt wala: “Yaar, dekho woh gaand. Itni badi aur juicy.”

Person 2, uska mota dost: “Bhai, abhi pakad loon. Bas haathon mein mehsoos karna hai us gaand ko.”

Person 3, daadi wala dukaandaar: “Uski boobs aise uchal rahi hain. Perfect.”

Person 4, bike wala jawaan: “Shaayad yeh meri girlfriend se behtar ride karti. Main girlfriend se dhokha doonga is badi gaand wali aurat se sone ke liye.”

Person 5, mooch wala budha: “Woh dress kuch chhupati nahi. Panties? Ha! Usne panties nahi pehni, mujhe pata chal gaya.”

Person 6, sunglasses wala: “Pati lucky hai. Ya unlucky?”

Person 7, peti uthane wala mazdoor: “Main uski tits us gali mein dabaoonga.”

Phir, ek ne Papa ko bura bola. “Dekho uska pati. Patla dock worker. Woh uske layak nahi. Us jism ki barbaadi.”


Papa aur Mummy ko nahi suna. Sadak zyada shor wali—horn, chillahat, music. Woh shirt ke rangon ki baat kar rahe the.
Lekin maine ek mard ko Mummy ke baare mein sexual baat karte suna. Woh do doston ke saath, deewar pe jhuka. “Main usse jhuka doonga, dress upar karoonga, aur uski brown dress neeli ho jaye tab tak chodunga.”


Mera khoon khaul gaya. Kadam kadam plan banaya. Pehle, chalna dheema kiya. Mummy Papa 10 kadam aage. Main jaldi peeche palta, do logon ko dhakka deke pahuncha uske paas, collar pakda. “Woh jo bola, repeat karo. Meri mummy ke baare mein.”


Woh muskuraaya, dar nahi. Lamba, mazboot, paseene ki boo. “Kya? Ke main teri mummy ko itna zor se aur kaccha chodunga? Use aur maangne pe majboor kar doonga?”


Bas ho gaya. Maine zor se muh mein mukka maara.
Meri mutthi uski naak pe crack ke saath lagi. Woh peeche gira, doston se takraaya, petiyon ka dher gir gaya. Hungama mach gaya. Log chillaaye, “Ladai! Ladai!” Uske dost chillaye, “Harami!” Ek ne mukka maara, lekin main bacha. Woh utha, chillata, wild mukke maarta.


Maine phir mukka maara, is baar pet pe. Woh jhuk gaya. Bheed jama—20 log ghere mein, phone nikaal ke shoot karte. Dukaandaar chillaye, “Ruko! security officer aa rahi!”


Mummy ko shor suna. Woh daud ke aayi, bheed cheerte. “Jai! Ruko!” Unhone peeche se meri baahen pakdi, zor se. Unka naram jism mujhse laga, awaaz kaanpti. “Beta, kya kar rahe ho?”


Papa daud ke aaye, mazboot baahen mujhe lapeti. “Jai, bas! Chalo! Yeh kya ho raha hai?”

Woh zameen pe pada, naak se khoon, lekin mujhe upar se muskura raha. Buri muskurahat, daant laal. “Teri mummy iske layak hai, bacche.”
Mera gussa jwala. Main laat maarna chahta tha. Kaise muskura raha hai? Uske baare mein aisa bolne ke baad?


Mummy ne daanta, aankhen badi. Unhone mujhe kabhi ladte nahi dekha. “Jai! Tum ladai kaise? Tum kabhi aisa nahi karte! Tumhe kya ho gaya?”
“Mummy, usne... gandi baatein boli,” maine dheeme kaha.


“Gandi baatein? Kis baare mein? Jai, batao!”
“Nahi bata sakta. Bas... chhodo.”


Unhone sar hilaya. “Nahi, beta. Yeh tum nahi ho.”
Mummy uske paas gayi, jhuk gayi. “Sir, bahut sorry. Mera beta... jawaan hai.” Jab woh jhuki, unki badi gaand bahar nikli.





Dress tight ho gayi, har ghumav dikhaya. Bheed mein mard zor se ghoore—muh khule, aankhen bhookhi. Ek ne dheeme bola, “Dekho ab woh gaand. Jhuk rahi hai bina jaane ke uski gaand hume kaisa mehsoos kara rahi.”


Woh gira hua aadmi fayda uthaya. Usne Mummy ke naram haath ko pakda jab woh uthane mein madad kar rahi thi, ungliyan zyada der dabayi, zarurat se zyada kareeb kheencha. “Koi problem nahi, aunty. Tera ladka garam khoon wala hai. Lekin tum meethi ho.”


Mummy ko mehsoos hua. Unhone jaldi haath chhuda liya, seedhi khadi hui. “Please, sir. Phir sorry.”
Papa ne bhi baat ki. “Mera beta ka iraada nahi tha. Hum chalte hain.”


Woh khoon pochha, abhi muskuraata. “Apni biwi ko batao uski chal pe dhyaan de.”
Papa ne bhaun sikudi lekin mujhe kheencha.


Hum chalte rahe. Mummy ne mera haath zor se pakda. “Jai, hamesha achhe raho. Ladai kyun ki? Batao.”
Main almost bolne wala tha, “Usne teri gaand ke baare mein gandi baat ki.” Lekin ruka. “Kuch nahi, Mummy. Sorry.”
Papa ne kandha dabaya. “Jai, ladai kyun? Mujhse bolo.”


Maine jawab nahi diya. Bas neeche dekha, andar gusse mein.
Mummy bar-bar boli, “Achhe raho, beta. Hum achha parivaar hain.” Phir poocha, “Sach mein, kyun? Us aadmi ne hume nuksaan nahi pahunchaya.”
“Pata hai. Bhool jao.”


Ek ghante baad, main aur Mummy Verma’s ke paas cafe mein gaye. Andar thanda, pankhe ghumte, coffee aur samosa ki boo. Mujhe araam mehsoos hua, ladai bhool gayi. Papa trip ke liye kitaabein kharidne gaye—plane pe padhne ke liye novels.


Jab Mummy cafe mein aayi, sab mard ek saath palte. Jaise mehsoos kar liya ho. Das aadmi—akhabar padhte, chai peete—ghoorne lage. Aankhen badi, chamach ruk gaye. Ek ne chamach gira di. Mujhe shock. Jaise jaanwar gosht ki boo sunte. Unki dress, chal, gaand—nazar nahi hati.











Mummy baith gayi, ignore karti. “Jai, chai?”

Maine sar hilaya, dil bhari.
Humne order diya. Papa kitaabon ke saath wapas, muskuraate. “Le aaya! Shopping ke liye taiyaar?”
Mummy hansi. “Haan, Kishore. Jai, ladai bhool jao. Maze karo.”


Lekin main mardon ko dekhta raha. Hamesha bachata.
Cafe dheeme shor se bhara. Mummy chai peeti, dinner ki baat karti. “Agar Mr. Davendra ko teekha pasand aaye? Pooch loongi.”
Papa ne sar hilaya. “Achha idea.”


Main muskuraaya, lekin nazrein ghoorne pe. Unki sundarta chumbak thi. Mard ab dheeme bol rahe, “Phir woh gaand.”
Maine table ke neeche mutthi bandh li. Unhe jeetne nahi doonga.


Shopping ka time aaya. Verma’s chamakta, racks bhare. Papa ne shirts try kiye. Mummy madad ki, dress lehrati. “Yeh neela, Kishore. Tumhari aankhon se match karega.”


Maine kurta chuna, darwaza dekhta. Aaj aur ladai nahi.
Papa ne paise diye, khush. “Perfect. Ab ghar, kal ke liye aaram.”


Bahar nikalte, Mummy ne baahen jodi. “Shandaar din, parivaar.”
Maine sar hilaya. Lekin andar, aur taiyaar.

[Deepak_bull]

Thank you friends I really appreciate your comments. 

Next update is today!!

[Deepak_bull]

Us shaam, ghar mein excitement jaise beehive ki tarah buzz kar raha tha bade event se pehle. Main aur Mom taiyaar ho rahe the Dad ke boss, Mr. Davendra se milne ke bade trip ke liye. Mera right hand abhi bhi dard kar raha tha us idiot aadmi ko market mein punch karne se kuch ghante pehle.
Main super eager tha Davendra ko dekhne ke liye. Dad hamesha unke baare mein baat karte the jaise woh docks pe koi hero hon—tough lekin fair, woh aadmi jo cheezein karwata hai. Ab promotion ke saath, fancy dinner, aur private jet bhi, main wait nahi kar sakta tha iss boss se milne ka jisne humari zindagi itni badal di.
Mera mind questions se bhara tha: Woh dikhte kaise honge? Kya woh utne strong honge jitna unka voice sunai deta hai? Kya woh mera haath shake karenge jaise Dad kehte hain good workers ke saath?
Dad living room mein pacing kar rahe the, har kuch seconds mein watch check karte hue, unka naya blue shirt already neatly tucked pants mein. "Prisha! Jai! Come on, thoda jaldi karo! Flight humare bina nahi jaayega agar hum abhi nahi nikle. Davendra airport pe wait kar rahe hain, aur tum jaante ho yeh sab family ke liye kitna important hai!"
Mom ki voice bedroom se aayi, thodi muffled closed door se lekin usual cheer se bhari. "Kishore, ek second relax karo! Main bas do minute mein aa rahi hoon, promise! Mujhe apne gold bangles dhundne hain—woh saree ke saath perfectly match karte hain, aur main tere boss ke saamne incomplete nahi dikhna chahti!"
Dad ne dramatically eyes roll kiye, mujhe funny annoyed face banate hue, eyebrows high jaise bada secret batane wale hon. "Jai, yeh carefully suno. Women! Woh kehti hain ‘do minute,’ lekin hamesha twenty, thirty, kabhi kabhi ek ghanta bhi! Teri mom ek king ko bhi wait kara sakti hain."
Main zor se hans pada, ice pack almost drop karte hue, haath sudden movement se thoda sting kiya. "Haan Dad, tum bilkul right ho! Yaad hai last Diwali jab hum temple ke liye early jaane wale the? Mom ne kaha ‘do minute,’ aur hum first aarti aur half fireworks miss kar diye kyunki woh mirror ke saamne khadi thi do lipsticks ke beech decide karte hue—ek ‘too red’ thi aur doosri ‘not red enough’!"
Dad zor se chuckle kiye, head shake karte hue aur pretend hair pull out in frustration. "Exactly, beta! Aur mat shuru karo teri aunt ki wedding last year ke baare mein. Hum noon tak pahunchne wale the, lekin full ek ghanta late ho gaye kyunki Prisha ne apna dupatta teen baar change kiya."
Bedroom se Mom chillayi, "Maine har shabd sun liya, Kishore! Aur Jai, mere against Dad ke saath mat team up aise! Main almost ready hoon—bas yeh pallu right place pe pin karna hai taaki flight mein na slip ho. Tum chahte ho main tere boss ke liye good dikhoon, na? First impressions matter!"
Dad wide grin kiye, door ki taraf shout kiye taaki woh clearly sun le. "Prisha, even if tum ek bhi makeup na lagao aur aise hi bahar aa jao, tum abhi bhi whole wide world ki most beautiful woman ho!"
Mom warmly hans padi, sound light aur teasing, poora room happier feel karwa diya. "Oh, ab tum mujhe sweet-talk kar rahe ho, Kishore? Kuch charm dinner ke liye bacha lo! Lekin wait karo jab tak mujhe iss saree mein dekho—tum wait bhool jaoge aur mujhe time lene ke liye thank karoge!"
Main phir hans pada, unke tease karne ko love karte hue jaise old friends. "Mom, Dad bas jealous hain kyunki woh five minutes mein ready ho jaate hain, shirt daal lo aur har din same dikhte hain—chahe wedding ho ya market jaana!"
Dad pretend deeply hurt hue, chest clutch kiye jaise stab kiya gaya ho. "Ouch, Jai! Apne hi ghar mein apne bete se betrayal. Yeh cold hai. Fine, main yahan baithta hoon good husband ki tarah. Lekin seriously, Prisha, agar tere bangles ki wajah se hum private jet miss kar lein, Davendra mujhe wapas papers push karne pe demote kar denge all night!"






Mom ki voice phir aayi, ab closer, jaise door pe. "Aaj koi demotion nahi, promise! Bas ek minute aur—saree properly pin kar rahi hoon taaki poore trip perfect rahe!"
Dad sighed lekin couch pe mere bagal mein baith gaye, abhi bhi wide smile karte hue.
"Dekha kya matlab hai, Jai? Yeh hi marriage hai. Tum wait karo, love karo, thoda complain karo, lekin end mein tum uske baare mein ek cheez bhi change nahi karna chahte. Teri mom har extra second, har late minute ke worth hai."
Main nod kiya, big grin karte hue. "Haan, woh really hai, Dad."
Main simple clothes pehna—clean white kurta blue embroidery collar aur sleeves pe, paired dark blue jeans se jo Mom ne fresh iron kiye the.
Dad sharp dikhe light blue shirt mein, sleeves rolled up strong forearms dikhane ke liye docks ke saalon work se, aur dark trousers jo just right fit the.
Phir, bedroom door slowly khula, aur Mom bahar nikli. Woh room ko light up kar di jaise Diwali night pe hazar diyas, sab kuch brighter aur special feel karwa diya.
Woh sleeveless rose-pink silk kurti pehni golden embroidery ke saath, matching leggings aur golden high heels ke saath. Uska look gold jewelry se complete tha, including earrings, bangles, aur delicate necklace, graceful aur festive appearance dete hue.
Uske long hair loose bun mein tied the, soft strands face ko gently frame karte hue, gold earrings dangling aur har turn pe light catch karte. Uske bangles softly jingle karte jaise music, aur woh jasmine perfume ki smell se bhari thi, sweet aur fresh, air mein fill karte hue.
Dad ka muh wide khula, eyes frozen uspe jaise pehli baar dekh rahe hon. Main bhi—main stare kiya, astonished, heart skip a beat at how perfect woh dikhi. Woh jaise goddess thi humare simple living room mein walk karte hue, ise palace bana diya.
"Mom... wow," main whisper kiya, ice pack table pe completely bhool gaya.
Dad slowly khade hue, jaise dream mein, uski taraf walk karte hue stars eyes mein. "Prisha... tum... breathtaking ho. Matlab, tum yeh kaise karti ho? Har baar, tum last time se zyada beautiful dikhti ho. Main zinda mein luckiest aadmi hoon."
Mom shyly smile ki, thoda twirl kiya taaki saree water ki tarah flow kare. "Toh, main kaisi lag rahi hoon, tum dono? Mr. Davendra ke fancy dinner aur private jet ke liye good enough? Ya main wapas jaake kuch aur change kar loon?"
Main fast head shake kiya, abhi bhi staring. "No way, Mom! Tum perfect ho. Jaise real movie star red carpet pe big award show mein walk kar rahi ho!"
Dad uske paas gaye, dono haath gently apne mein lete hue, voice soft aur love se bhari. "Jai bilkul right hai. Tum poora show steal kar logi, Prisha. Lekin honestly, tum har baar room mein aise enter karti ho toh mera heart stop ho jaata hai."
Mom deep red blush ki, free haath se playfully uska arm swat kiya. "Oh, ruk jao, dono! Mujhe dance karne do, kaisi lag rahi hoon?" Mom dance karne lagi. Apni hips Dad ke liye swing karte hue.





Woh kitchen ki taraf gayi, saree softly swish karte hue har step pe, heels floor pe click karte gentle rhythm ki tarah. Dad ka phone suddenly ring hua, pocket mein loud buzz jaise alarm.
Unhone hurry mein nikaala, aur chhota suitcase jo doosre haath mein tha slip ho gaya, floor pe big thud se gir gaya.
"Sir, hello! Haan, hum almost ready hain ghar se nikalne ko!"
Davendra ka deep, coarse voice speaker se boom hua, rough jaise gravel heavy boots ke neeche, strong enough poora room fill karne ko. "Kishore, tum on the way ho abhi tak? Jet fully fueled hai aur tarmac pe wait kar raha hai. Pilot ready hai jab tum ho."
"Haan sir! Hum last cheezein pack kar rahe hain abhi. Hum jaldi pahunch jaayenge, promise!"
Mom usi moment kitchen se wapas aayi, glass of water haath mein, slow aur graceful walk karte hue, jaane bina Dad Davendra se phone pe the. Woh mujhe smile ki, glass utha sip lene ko, bangles jingle karte.
Davendra continue kiya, voice calm aur commanding. "No need to rush, mere dost. Time lo aur comfortable aa jao. Mere paas private jet hai—woh humare liye wait karta hai, hum uske liye nahi. Family ko relaxed aur happy laao."
Jaise hi Mom ne woh voice suni—deep, powerful, jaise door se thunder slowly roll kar raha ho—woh hard shake hui. Poora body shiver kiya, shoulders tremble jaise sudden cold wind warm room mein blow hui ho.
Uske eyes wide surprise mein, lips slightly parted, cheeks soft pink flush. Glass fingers se slip ho gaya, floor pe loud sharp crash se shatter ho gaya. Water everywhere splash, glass pieces tiny stars ki tarah tiles pe scatter.
Silence room mein fill ho gaya, thick aur heavy, jaise sab breathing stop kar chuke hon.







Main aur Dad Mom ko shocked gaze kiye, muh wide open. Dad abhi bhi phone pakde frozen.
Davendra ne noise clearly sun liya. "Kishore? Woh kya sound tha? Sab okay hai wahan? Jaise kuch bada toota ho."
Dad thoda stammer kiya, bend down spilled suitcase items pick karne ko. "Uh, sir, haan, sab fine! Bas ek glass meri wife ne mistake se drop kar diya. Kuch serious nahi. Hum abhi clean kar rahe hain aur ek minute mein door se bahar."
"Alright, glass shards se careful raho. Fun start hone se pehle kisi ko hurt nahi chahiye. Airport pe milte hain—private gate east side pe. Safe travels, aur family ko bolo main un se milne excited hoon."
"Thank you itna, sir. Hum bilkul late nahi honge." Dad ne thoda aur small talk add kiya nice weather for flying ke baare mein aur jet mein shayad great snacks honge, phir call hang kiya.
Dad right away Mom ke paas rushed, worried, gentle arm shoulders pe daalte hue. "Prisha, tum okay ho? Abhi kya hua? Haath slip ho gaya ya kuch?"
Woh bend down glass pieces carefully pick karne lagi, voice thodi shaky lekin normal sound karne ki hard try. "Kuch worry mat karo, Kishore. Main perfectly fine hoon. Glass tap se wet tha, aur slip ho gaya. Main okay hoon, really."
"Tum sure? Tum suddenly thodi pale lag rahi ho. Ek second baitho, main clean kar leta hoon."
"No, no, main good hoon, promise. Bas trip ke liye excited aur thodi clumsy aaj." Woh weakly smile ki, lekin haath abhi bhi slightly tremble kar rahe the bigger pieces pick karte hue.
Main phir wonder kiya—Mom Davendra ki voice sunte hi kyun hamesha shiver karti thi? Pehle home pe speaker call mein, ab yeh, glass drop aur shaken look. Uski voice strong thi, haan, deep aur rough jaise ship horn fog cut kar raha ho, lekin uska reaction itna bada har baar.
Kya woh daraati thi usse? Nervous banati thi kisi reason se? Ya kuch aur, jaise unexpected spark jo control nahi kar paati? Mujhe exactly nahi pata. Lekin mujhe zyada bother nahi kiya. Woh abhi bhi Mom thi, Dad ke liye completely loyal, family adventure ke liye excited.
Shayad bas powerful commanding voice ka surprise catch off guard kar deta tha jab expect nahi karti. Main thought drop kar diya aur clean mein help kiya.
Humne mess quick clean kiya, glass carefully dustpan mein sweep kiya aur water cloth se wipe kiya. Mom mess dry hote hi phir trip ke liye excited ho gayi, happily chat karte hue last packing touches finish karte.
"Jai, imagine kar—private jet! Hum clouds mein kings aur queens ki tarah fly karenge! Fancy place pe dinner kaisa hoga socho? Kya caviar ya champagne hoga, ya kuch special dishes jo humne kabhi try nahi kiye?"
Main grin kiya, sore haath ice se better feel kar raha. "Shayad, Mom! Jab tak good biryani ya at least butter chicken ho, main happy rahunga."
Dad hans diye, final suitcase zip shut karte hue. "Private jet pe biryani nahi, beta, lekin sure kuch close hoga sabko smile karwane ko. Chalo jaao before kuch aur toote!"
Humne taxi airport ke liye call kiya. Jo cab aayi woh yellow aur thodi old thi, side pe scratches aur inside torn seat covers. Dad pehle driver ke paas gaye, thin aadmi thick mustache wala, faded shirt pehne, aur ride ke baare mein baat ki.






"Bhaiya, airport please—private gate east side pe. Teen logon ke liye kitna hoga?"
Driver chin scratch kiya, suitcases dekh kar. "Ek person ke liye usually 600 rupees iss time traffic mein."
Dad thoda head shake kiya, smile lekin firm. "Arre, yeh too high hai. Hum teen hain—main, meri wife, aur mera beta. Total 400 rupees bolo."
Driver window se thoda lean out kiya, house door mein peek karte hue jahan Mom purse le rahi thi. "Teen log? Luggage ke saath? Hmm, rush hour price—kam se kam 550 rupees."
Dad easy nahi maane. "550 abhi bhi steep hai. 450 kaise? Hum good customers hain, cash right away dete hain."
Driver ne Mom ko fully spot kiya jab woh bahar nikli, golden saree shining, aur uske eyes wide hue. "Okay, okay, 500 rupees. Lekin lady aur sab... luggage ke saath, heavy hai. Big load, jaante ho—back mein extra space chahiye."
Usne Mom ki badi gaand ka matlab tha, sexual way mein hint karte hue ki uske curves zyada room lenge, lekin sneaky without word. Dad ko hint bilkul nahi samjha, sirf bags ke baare mein socha.
Dad frown kiya, confused. "Luggage? Humare paas bas do suitcases aur ek small bag hai. Yeh heavy nahi. 450 final?"
Driver smile karta raha, eyes Mom pe. "Batao kya—480 rupees. Deal? Main bags load karne mein bhi help kar dunga."
Dad ek second socha. "470?"
Driver thoda hans pada. "Tum hard bargain karte ho! Fine, 475. Andar aao, ab chalte hain."
Dad nod kiya, happy. "Done. Thanks, bhaiya."

Mujhe dirty hint right away pata tha. Mom ko bhi samajh aaya—uske cheeks thode red hue, lekin usne aadmi ko completely ignore kiya, window se bahar dekh kar aur saree pallu adjust karte hue jaise kuch hua hi na ho. Driver poori ride rearview mirror mein Mom ko glance karta raha, eyes sneaky, har kuch minutes mein uski figure up down jaate hue.

[Deepak_bull]

thank you friends, update coming in few hours

[Deepak_bull]

CHAPTER 8

"Meri maa aakhirkaar mere papa ke boss, Mr. Davendra se milti hai."

Hum airport pahunche lagbhag 45 minutes ke baad. Yeh huge aur super busy tha, jaise andar ek chhota city. Hazaaron log travel kar rahe the—badi families crying babies aur bags ke piles ke saath. 


Bade announcements har kuch minutes mein overhead boom kar rahe the: "Delhi jaane wali flight ab gate 12 pe boarding... Mumbai jaane walon ke liye last call..."


Dad ne door point kiya, crowded hall ke across. "Wahan dekho! Dekho us aadmi ko black suit mein? Woh private gate ke paas khada hai, bilkul un bade glass doors ke paas east side pe, main crowd se door."


Ek tall aadmi akela khada tha, suit sharp aur dark, haath peeche, sunglasses on even andar, important aur calm dikhta.
Main: "Wow, woh Davendra hai? Woh really tall aur serious lagta hai!"


Dad: "Haan beta, woh hi hai pakka. Chalo, uski taraf jaate hain before woh soche hum lost ho gaye."
Mom carefully dekhi, crowd ke through thoda squint karte hue. "Kishore, tum absolutely sure ho yeh Mr. Davendra hi hain? Sunglasses aur black tie wala?"


Dad: "Haan Prisha, hundred percent. Maine unhe office mein kaafi baar dekha hai. Lekin tum aise kyun pooch rahi ho? Kuch wrong hai kya?"


Mom: "Oh, bilkul nahi. Bas double-check kar rahi hoon taaki hum wrong person ke paas na chale jaayein. Aur batao, kya woh hamesha andar sunglasses pehnte hain? Kya woh person mein bahut strict hain? Unhe kis tarah ka khana pasand hai?"


Dad ne uski taraf dekha, wonder karte hue. "Prisha, questions slow karo! Haan, woh sunglasses zyadatar pehnte hain—kehte hain lights unki eyes bother karti hain. Woh work mein strict hain lekin fair, aur simple khana pasand, spicy ho toh behtar. Yeh sudden curiosity kyun?"


Mom quick smile ki. "Koi reason nahi, Kishore. Bas prepared rehna chahti hoon. Worry mat karo."
Dad: "Alright, agar tum kehti ho. Chalo un se milte hain."


Main: "Kya unhe hum pasand aayenge, Dad? Agar main kuch dumb bol doon toh?"
Dad: "Woh tumhe love karenge, Jai. Bas apne aap raho."


Hum uski taraf move karne lage, suitcases peeche roll karte hue, hearts fast beat karte thrill se jo aage aane wala tha.
Dad lead kiya, big smile karte hue jaise hum approach kiye. Unhone haath badhaya aur Mr. Davendra ki back lightly pat kiya, jaise old friends. "Sir! Hum pahunch gaye, bilkul time pe!"


Mr. Davendra turn kiya jaise hi unhone call finish kiya, phone pocket mein smooth motion se daalte hue. Unki eyes Dad ko dekh kar light up hui, aur woh warm grin mein break hue, straight white teeth dikhate. 


"Kishore! Finally, mera aadmi. Main sochne laga tha tum jet ko saari raat wait karwa doge." Woh hans diye, deep rumble jo open space mein thoda echo hua.


Dad chuckle kiye, firmly haath shake karte. "No way, sir. Hum yeh world ke liye miss nahi karte. Aur dekho, yeh family hai—mera beta Jai, aur meri beautiful wife Prisha."


Main aage badha, nerves aur awe ka mix feel karte. Mr. Davendra ka presence commanding tha, jaise woh poora airport own karte hon. Unhone apna bada haath pehle mujhe extend kiya.


"Jai, right? Tera dad tere baare mein hamesha baat karta hai. Milkar achha laga, young man." Unka grip strong tha lekin crush nahi karne wala, aur eyes mere pe lock, important feel karwaya.


"Nice to meet you too, sir," main bola, apne sore haath se best shake karte. "Thanks for all this—promotion, trip. Yeh amazing hai."
Woh nod kiya, abhi bhi smile karte. 


"Tere dad ne earn kiya hai. Hard worker woh. Ab chalo, tum sab ko board karwate hain before dark ho jaaye."


Phir Dad turn kiye Mom ko properly introduce karne. Woh thodi peeche khadi thi, golden jewelry lights catch kar rahi, stunning lekin thodi quiet. "Aur sir, yeh Prisha hai, mera better half. Woh hi ghar mein sab run karti hai."


Mom aage badhi, lekin main notice kiya woh unke face directly dekhne mein struggle kar rahi thi. Uski eyes ground pe dart, phir chest pe, gaze avoid karte. Mujhe hit hua—woh us aadmi ke bilkul bagal mein khadi thi jiski voice ne usse pehle tremble karwaya tha, ab do baar.


Woh deep powerful voice jo thunder ki tarah boom karti. Shayad person mein overwhelming thi, usse small ya nervous feel karwa rahi. Mujhe yaad aaya kaise usne ghar pe glass drop kiya, body shake sirf phone pe sun kar.


Ab face to face, shayad aur zyada strong.
Mr. Davendra uski taraf turn kiye, expression thoda soft. "Prisha, pleasure hai. Kishore ne tumhare baare mein bahut bataya hai." Unhone haath shake ke liye extend kiya.


Mom ek second hesitate ki, haath thoda tremble karte hue reach out. Unki fingers touch hui, aur maine dekha uske cheeks pink flush. Usne lightly grip kiya, lekin voice steady aayi.



"Nice to meet you, Mr. Davendra. Kishore hamesha batate hain aap team pe kitne tough hain."








Woh phir hans diye, uska haath usual se zyada der pakde before chhodne. "Mujhe Davendra bolo, please. Aur tough? Sirf jab zaroorat ho. Tera husband yahan best mein se ek hai—promotion deserve karta hai."


Mom weakly smile ki, haath wapas kheench kar jaise cold ho rub kiya.
Even Davendra impressed lag rahe the, eyes twinkle karte usse dekhte.


Usi time, Dad ka face change hua—unhone pockets frantically pat kiye. "Oh no! Lagta hai maine apna phone security checkpoint pe bhool aaya main terminal ke andar. Counter pe IDs check karte time chhod aaya hoga."


Davendra wave off kiya. "No problem. Jai, kyun na tu apne dad ke saath jaake le aaye? Prisha rush se thodi tired lag rahi—main usse apni car tak walk karwa dunga wahan. Hum tum dono ka wait kar lenge boarding se pehle."


Main nod kiya, quick confirm. "Okay sir. Hum fast honge."
Dad agree kiya. "Haan, zyada time nahi lagega. Thanks sir."


Sab move karne se pehle, Mom bend over hui high heels ke laces tie karne. Ek loose ho gaya tha walk se. Mujhe uska high heels pehnna zyada pasand nahi—woh uske usual style ke liye too modern lagte, jaise impress karne ki koshish.


Lekin woh insist ki outfit match karte. Usne thoda side turn kiya, waist se bend karke fix karne. Jaise hi kiya, uska rose-pink kurti thoda upar chadha, aur leggings ka silk material tight cling.


Saree-style dbang jo uspe tha uski gaand ke cheeks ke beech slip ho gaya, uski badi soft gaand clearly outline karte. Yeh round aur full thi, movements se thoda jiggle, golden embroidery light catch karte.


Davendra ki eyes uspe lock ho gayi, face shock dikhate—jaise believe nahi kar pa rahe kitni soft aur curvy lag rahi. Unka muh thoda khula, eyebrows raised.






Phir unhone throat clear kiya aur bola, "Woh heels tumpe great lag rahe hain, Prisha. Lekin aise bend karte careful—fun start se pehle ankle twist nahi karna chahte."


Mom quick straight hui, face uneasy, jaise uske saath akela rehna nahi chahti. Usne outfit smooth kiya, gaze phir avoid. "Thanks. Yeh new hain. Thode tricky."


Jaise hi woh uski black luxury car ki taraf walk karne lage, Davendra politely gesture kiya. "Tum pehle, Prisha."


Woh nod ki aur aage chali, heels click karte. Main wonder kiya kyun unhone aage walk karne bola—shayad gentleman? Lekin jaise Dad aur main terminal wapas jaane lage, maine shoulder pe glance kiya.


Davendra Mom ki badi gaand check out kar rahe the jaise woh chal rahi thi. Woh har step pe sway kar rahi thi, full aur round, silk material har curve hug karte. Uski gaand ke cheeks rhythmically move, left phir right, outline soft lekin firm years ke home workouts se ya jo bhi woh karti thi.


Pink saree tight stretch, sides pe dimples dikhate, aur bounce ka tarika notice karna hard nahi tha. Jaise do perfect globes, stares invite, bina uske meaning ke. Davendra ki eyes glued, Mom ki badi gaand ke shape trace karte, head thoda tilt jaise art appreciate kar rahe.








Humne Dad ka phone quick liya—woh wahi tha jahan chhoda—aur wapas rush kiye. 


Tab tak, Mom aur Davendra car ke paas the, lightly weather ke baare mein chat. Hum sab jaldi private jet board kiye. Andar luxurious—soft leather seats, mini bar, even TV. Flight smooth thi, aur hum us raat sea side fancy resort pe land kiye.


Resort beautiful tha, movie jaisa. Palm trees breeze mein sway, white sandy beaches stars ke neeche stretch, main building glass aur wood ka, soft golden lights se lit.


Private villas pools ke saath, spa, gourmet food serve karne wale restaurants. Davendra clearly rich—docks company mein shares, plus other businesses, no expense spared.


Hamara villa ocean views wala, king-sized beds, fresh flowers everywhere. Luxury scream kar raha tha.
8 pm pe, main apne room mein tha, unpack karte aur bed pe chill. Villa mein teen bedrooms, toh mera apna space. 



Maine phone nikaala aur ghar wali girl ko text kiya jise pasand karta tha—uska naam Riya. Hum weeks se chat kar rahe the, excited tha. "Hey, ab fancy resort pe. Wish tu yahan hoti," maine likha.


Usne fast reply: "Amazing lagta hai! Wapas aake sab batao. Aur woh kiss jo baat ki thi? Main in hoon jab tu ghar aaye. ?"
Mera heart skip—usne kiss agree kiya! Main grin kiya, flirty stuff text back, apne business mein.


Lekin phir, window se glance kiya aur dekha sirf Mom aur Davendra main lounge area ke wooden balcony pe khade. Yeh beach overlook karta, background mein waves softly crash.





Dad wahan nahi the; pata nahi Dad kahan the lekin resort pe nahi, iss time maine Mom aur Davendra ko baat karte dekha.
Main ek minute dekhta raha, curious. 


Davendra Mom mein interest dikhate, lean in karte speak. "Toh Prisha, Kishore kehta hai tumhe gardening love hai. Favorite flower kaunsa?"



Mom cool play ki, politely smile lekin distance keep. "Jasmine, actually. Yeh home ki yaad dilata hai. Tumhara kya, Davendra? Itne travel ke saath, hobbies ke liye time bhi milta hai?"


Woh chuckle kiye. "Touché. Mostly work, lekin good book by the sea enjoy karta hoon. Jaise yeh view—peaceful, hai na?"


Mujhe pata tha woh Mom ko outright seduce nahi kar rahe, lekin sure nahi. Unki eyes kabhi kabhi uspe zyada der linger. Phir Mom forest side ki taraf back turn ki, uski back mere taraf, elbow wooden balcony railing pe rest. 


Woh ocean face kar rahi, posture relaxed lekin elegant.
Uss position mein, uski badi gaand display pe thi, railing ke against thoda push out.





Rose-pink silk uske curves hug, full cheeks round aur prominent, jaise do soft pillows fabric ke neeche. Side se, natural sway dekh sakte, leggings perfectly fill, gentle crease jahan cheeks meet.


Dad ke boss intently uski badi gaand gaze kiye, eyes top se bottom shape trace.

Woh stare jaise har detail memorize, soft jiggle jaise weight shift, material flesh pe slightly dimple, roundness jo silhouette itni feminine banati. Unka gaze hungry, lips thoda parted, jaise plump aur inviting dekh kar look away nahi kar pa rahe lights ke neeche.



Mujhe andar anger bubble up hua—kaise dare kar rahe mere Mom ki badi gaand aise dekhne? Woh married thi, Dad ke liye loyal. Window se jahan khada tha, main even uski panty line faintly silk ke through dekh sakta tha, thin outline curve trace, sab real banate

[Deepak_bull]

"Dhanyavaad doston, agla update aaj likha jaayega. Yeh bahut hi romanchak hoga, zaroor padhna!"

[Deepak_bull]

XVSDDDD

[Deepak_bull]

CHAPTER 9

"Meri maa aur Davendra ka pehla ghatna."

Us raat 10 pm pe, villa quiet bubble ki tarah feel kar raha tha warm ocean air mein float karte hue. Mere patio ke sliding doors wide open the, gentle breeze andar aa rahi thi faint salt aur jasmine ki scent leke resort gardens se.


Main bed pe stretched tha, pillows se propped up, phone screen room mein only light. Riya ne just voice note bheja—uski sleepy laugh, kehti hui, “Main imagine kar rahi hoon tujhe us fancy jet pe, little umbrellas wale juice sip karte.”


Main grin kiya aur record back, “No umbrellas, lekin clouds cotton candy jaise lag rahe the. Miss you.” Hum aise hi back forth karte rahe, little jokes aur plans trade karte ghar wapas aane ke liye. Har phone buzz se mera chest light feel karta.


Dad ridiculously early bed pe chale gaye the.
Yacht tour aur big seafood dinner ke baad, unhone sitting room mein sandals kick off kiye, couch pe stretched “just five minutes” ke liye, aur never move kiye.
9:15 tak woh apne bedroom mein the, old cotton pajamas mein change, snoring itni loudly ki wall ke through sunai de rahi thi distant motorboat ki tarah.


“All that sun ne mujhe wipe out kar diya,” unhone mumble kiya pillow mein face-plant se pehle. Mom ne unke forehead kiss kiya aur whisper, “Sleep tight, hero.”
Davendra abhi bhi sitting room mein awake the.


Unhone daytime shirt plain white vest se swap kiya jo unke thick chest pe cling tha aur collar pe dark hair curling dikhata.
Koi old action movie play ho rahi—explosions, screeching tires, hero one-liners shout kar raha. Davendra ki eyes screen pe kabhi kabhi flick, lekin mostly ahead stare, relaxed, jaise lion shade mein dozing.


Mom ne shower liya aur silver satin night-dress mein change kiya jo body pe poured jaise lag rahi thi. Straps thread jaise thin, neckline dip just enough soft curve dikhane breasts ke beech.


Fabric cool aur slippery thi, waist pe cling, phir wide hips pe flare before mid-thigh pe stop. Jab woh chalti, shimmer karti moonlight on water ki tarah, har inch hug karte.
Satin uski badi round gaand ke cleft mein deep press, cheeks ko aur fuller softer banate, jaise do plush cushions silk mein wrapped. Har step material shift aur glide karwata, sides pe dimples outline, gentle bounce jab weight shift.


Main patio pe tha, barefoot warm tiles pe, legs second chair pe stretched, breeze aur endless stars enjoy karte. Resort lights door twinkle jaise fallen constellations.
Mom doorway mein appear hui, small wooden tray pakde do steaming cups ke saath. Uske bangles soft chime diye.


“Good tea mere night-owl ke liye,” woh boli, voice low aur warm. Woh paas aayi aur tray little table pe set ki humare beech. “Careful, garam hai.”
Main baith gaya, haath cup ke around wrap. “Thanks Mom. Tumhe zaroorat nahi thi.”


Woh bagal ki chair mein settle hui, ek leg khud ke neeche tuck.
Satin uski thigh pe higher slide, moonlight catch. “Main waise bhi bana rahi thi. Sleep nahi aa rahi—waves secrets whisper kar rahe hain.” Woh smile ki, tea pe gently blow. “Besides, main tujhe check karna chahti thi. Abhi bhi Riya ko text?”


Mujhe cheeks heat feel hui. “Haan. Woh seashell chahti hai. Kehti hai ‘perfectly spiral’ hona chahiye.”
Mom quietly hans padi. “Us ladki ke standards hain. Mujhe pasand hai.” Woh sip ki, eyes dark ocean pe. “Yeh jagah… postcard come to life jaise.
Yaad hai aaj dolphins? Ek ne mujhe direct dekha—jaise jaanta tha main selfie le rahi hoon.”


Main chuckle kiya. “Dad soaked ho gaye jab woh jump kiya. Woh itna hard hans diye maine socha boat se gir jaayenge.”


“ Tere father ko iski zaroorat thi,” woh softly boli. “Woh too hard kaam karte hain. Unhe phir se kid jaise smile karte dekh… packing stress ke har minute worth.”
Hum comfortable silence mein thodi der baithe, sirf breeze aur distant surf. Cups se steam curl. Woh paas aayi aur mere hair ruffle kiye. “Zyada late mat rehna, okay? Kal waterfall hike hai. Energy chahiye.”


“Nahi rahunga,” maine promise kiya. “Night, Mom.”
Woh mere forehead kiss ki—uske lips tea se cool—aur andar glide back, satin skin ke against whisper.
Maine tea finish kiya, chamomile apna kaam kar rahi. Eyelids heavy feel.


Main andar shuffle kiya, yawn karte, bathroom ki taraf. Sitting room pass karte, glimpse mila: Mom low coffee table pe bend thi, fresh cup tea aur small plate biscuits Davendra ke liye set karte.







Silver dress back mein upar chadhi thi, aur uski badi gaand thrust out jaise offering—do perfect heavy globes satin strain karte.
Fabric itni tight stretch thi painted on jaise, cheeks ke beech deep dip, har soft curve outline. Jab woh saucer adjust ki, flesh gently jiggle, satin oil jaise slide.
Lamp peeche warm glow cast, material gleam banate aur shadows dramatic swell accentuate narrow waist se wide plush roundness tak.



Mere gut mein weird hot feeling twist—protective, uneasy, almost angry. Lekin maine push down kiya. Woh sirf polite hai. Late hai. Nothing more. Main chalta raha, bathroom use, haath dhoye, shake off.


Wapas aate, hunger hit. Kitchen mein cookies the—chocolate chip, abhi soft. Maine do grab kiye aur counter pe lean, munch.
Open archway se sitting room phir dekh sakta. Ab Mom Davendra ke saamne khadi thi, TV bagal mein tall potted fern adjust. Woh waist se slightly bend, ek haath pot steady, doosra fronds smooth.







Davendra glance kiya, voice relaxed. “Prisha, thoda left nudge kar sakti ho? Yeh subtitle kha raha hai.”
Woh pot inch shift ki. “Better?”
Unhone head tilt, eyes linger. “Thoda aur… haan, perfect. Tumhe iske liye eye hai.”



Woh straight hui, dress hips pe down smooth. “Bas nahi chahti thi tum big explosion scene miss karo.”
Mujhe nahi pata woh purpose se maanga—just bend dekhne ke liye phir.



Satin phir tight pull, uski gaand round aur full, cheeks slightly spread jaise lean. Fabric har contour hug, crease deep aur inviting. Koi aadmi ignore nahi kar sakta; impossible.
Isliye main parties pe uske paas hover karta, lingering uncles ko dirty looks deta. Mom never notice, lekin main karta.


Mujhe uski discomfort sense—shoulders thodi stiff, smile polite lekin quick. Woh nikalna chahti thi.
Davendra ne cushion pat kiya bagal mein. “Aao, ek minute baitho. Hero building se jump karne wala—classic. Five minutes, tops.”
Mom head shake ki, step back. “Main really nahi. Kishore jaag sakta hai aur wonder kahan hoon. Aur main beat hoon—aaj sun strong thi.”


Woh forward lean, elbows knees pe, voice low coaxing. “Bas ek scene. Tum din bhar run around—thoda relax. Main pause bhi kar dunga.”
Woh tightly smile ki. “Tempting, lekin no. Goodnight, Davendra. Movie enjoy karo.” Woh turn aur out walk—quick, graceful, satin har step swish. Mujhe pride surge feel hua.
Yeh meri mom. Usne clean shut down kiya.


Maine cookies finish, shirt se crumbs brush, aur Mom kitchen doorway mein appear, khud ke liye water pour.
“Pakda tujhe,” woh tease ki, eyes twinkle. “Midnight snack bandit.”
“Bas do,” main bola, muh bhara. “Resist nahi kar saka.”


Woh softly hans padi. “Achhe hain, na? Resort baker real vanilla use karta hoga.” Woh counter pe lean, glass haath mein. “Riya tujhe up rakhe hue?”
“Sort of. Woh spiral seashell chahti. Kehti anything else ‘basic’ hai.”


Mom grin ki. “Demanding. Approve.” Woh haath peeche yawn. “Okay beta, kab so raha? Eleven se zyada ho gaya.”
“Soon,” promise. “Ek aur text, phir bed.”


Woh phir mere hair ruffle. “Good. Sweet dreams.” Woh apne room ki taraf pad off, satin hallway light last time catch.
Jaise main apne bedroom ki taraf ja raha, cookie sugar veins mein buzz, maine notice Davendra sitting room mein. Unhone TV mute kiya aur hallway down stare, head tilt jaise listen.


Jab main pass, unhone shift, throat clear.
“Jai,” unhone quietly call. “Bed ja raha?”


“Haan sir.”
Unhone jaw scratch. “Favor kar sakta? Teri mom ko bolo main ek glass water chahta hoon—mere bedroom tak. Gale mein thirsty feel ho raha, aur main turn in karne wala hoon.”
Maine harmless socha. “Sure.”


Maine Mom ke door pe tap kiya. Woh dresser pe thi, long hair brush out, abhi silver dress mein.
“Davendra water chahte hain,” main bola. “Unke room tak. Kehte thirsty feel kar rahe.”


Mom mid-stroke pause, brush hover. Mirror mein reflection uneasy—brows drawn, lips thin press. “Unke bedroom tak? Iss time?”
Main shrug. “Woh abhi ja rahe wonge, socha.”


Woh brush soft clack se down set. “Yeh… odd hai. Lekin okay. Main le jaungi.” Voice steady, lekin maine dekha fingers glass pe tighten kitchen mein fill karte. Usne quick smile di—brave lekin forced—aur hall down walk.


Maine do baar nahi socha. Resort paradise—Dad happily snoring, ocean bahar sing, Riya texts wait. Main room mein slip, door close, bed pe flop.
Lekin phir—shoot. Mera phone charger. Abhi sitting-room wall mein plugged. Maine mutter, “Mom? Tu ne mera charger kahin dekha?” Soch kar woh wapas aayi hogi, main quietly hall down pad.


Sitting room empty, TV off, lights dim. Davendra ka bedroom door ajar, warm light wedge tiles pe spill. Main closer creep—aur freeze.
Mom andar thi, bed foot ke paas, glass de rahi. Unhone slowly liya, nightstand pe set bina piye, aur khade hue. Too close. Vest chest pe stretch jaise forward step.
Woh abhi kyun yahan?


Kya unhone stay maanga?
Door accident se open—ya purpose?
Agar Dad jaage aur dhundne aaye?
Kya water excuse tha?


Davendra ki voice low, almost murmur.
“Thank you, Prisha. Tumhe itna andar aana nahi tha.”
“Main bas—” Woh vaguely door gesture.


Woh smile, eyes soft. “Kishore ke saath twenty years, huh? Stories hongi. Kya tum ghar pe yeh silver dress pehnti ho? Yeh… stunning hai.”
Mom arms hug. “No. Sirf trips ke liye. Mujhe jaana chahiye.”


Woh nahi hile. “Ek minute. Batao—tum jaise woman ko itne saalon baad glowing kaise rakhta? Secret skincare? Magic?”
Woh tight laugh di. “Good sleep aur good food. Really, Davendra, late ho gaya.”


Woh closer step, voice drop. “Kya tum bored ho jaati ho? Same kitchen, same routine, docks se late aane ka wait?”
Uski chin lift. “Mujhe apni life love hai. Family. Please—”


Unhone reach, fingers elbow brush. “Bas curious. Tumhare jaise… fire wali woman. Adventures deserve karti ho.”
“We shouldn’t,” woh whisper, back step calves bed hit tak.


Woh slowly deliberately lean, eyes lock. “Ek kiss,” murmur. “Kisi ko nahi pata.”
“We shouldn’t,” repeat, voice tremble.
Phir—unhone kiss kiya.


Unka muh gently pehle cover, phir deeper, ek haath small back pe slide. Doosra lower drop, satin ke through badi gaand cup. Hard squeeze, fingers soft abundant flesh mein sink.







Fabric grip ke neeche bunch jaise knead—left cheek, right cheek, thumbs crease mein press, lift aur spread. Uski gaand har squeeze se jiggle, satin liquid jaise plush curves pe slide.


Woh kiss mein groan, hips ko apne against pull, palms warmth se bhare.
Main hallway shadows mein khada, heart hammer, rage boil. Confusion. Fury. Betrayal. Perfect trip—private jet, dolphins, starlit dinners—ek heartbeat mein shatter.










Davendra, aadmi jise Dad idolize karte, Mom ko grope kar raha Dad ke sleep karte 10 meter door. Aur Mom—kyun nahi chillayi? Kyun itna door jaane diya?
Lekin phir—SMACK—usne hard chest push. “NO!” Word whip jaise crack. Woh stumble back, eyes panic wide, aur bolt—bare feet tiles slap, silver dress ghost jaise flutter.
Woh andhere mein mere paas se fly, mujhe na dekh, safety room mein disappear. Door soft click se shut.


Davendra wahan khada, hard breathe, haath abhi shape mein jaise pakde hue. Water glass nightstand pe untouched.







Main room wapas slip, pulse race, charger bhool. Raat ruin. Magic gone. Lekin Mom—usne fight kiya. Run kiya.

[Deepak_bull]

"Dhanyavaad doston, kripya hamesha comment karo ki tum log kya padhna chahte ho. Agla update kuch ghanton mein aa raha hai."

[Deepak_bull]

CHAPTER 10

"Meri maa ke ajeeb pal mere papa ke boss ke saath."

Lekin main Mom pe bhi gussa tha, haan thoda chhota, tez, zyada confusing. Kyun usne paani dene ke baad bhi ek second ke liye bhi uske room mein rukna tha? Kyun usne uske jhukte hi thappad nahi maara?


Woh strong thi—end mein push kiya tha—lekin woh hesitation, woh moment jahan usne kiss hone diya, mujhe kha raha tha. Mujhe pata tha yeh uski galti nahi, sach mein nahi, lekin gussa phir bhi flicker kar raha tha.


Aur phir Dad the, hall ke end mein peacefully kharrate lete, oblivious. Main unpe furious tha jaanne na paane ke liye, kuch wrong sense na karne ke liye. Woh Davendra ko idolize karte the, “sir” kehte stars eyes mein, unke jokes pe hanste, har chhoti cheez ke liye thank karte.


Kaise itne blind ho sakte the? Kaise so sakte the jab unka boss unki wife ko 10 meter door grope kar raha tha? Yeh betrayal feel karta, bhale hi Dad ne kuch wrong nahi kiya. Main unhe hilana chahta tha, chillana, Tera hero creep hai!
Lekin nahi kar sakta. Unka dil tod bina nahi.


Aakhir mein main apne room wapas khinch gaya, door intended se zyada hard slam. Bed too big, too soft feel. Maine pillow punch kiya, toss, turn. Neend nahi aayi. 


Har baar eyes close, Davendra ke haath, Mom ki wide eyes, open door dikhta.
Mera mind what-ifs se spin: Agar main jaldi andar jaata? Agar woh nahi bhagti? Agar woh phir try kare? Resort, perfect beaches aur golden lights ke saath, ab trap feel karta. Main ise jala dena chahta tha.


Subah jaldi aa gayi. Balcony se sunlight pour, cheer se mock. Maine barely soya, eyes gritty, head throb. Nightmares fog jaise cling—Davendra ki voice head mein, low coaxing, Mom ka tremble “We shouldn’t.”


Main bed se utra, shorts aur T-shirt pehna, sitting room ki taraf shuffle, phone charger phir bhool. Sirf soch: Ghar jaana chahta hoon. Resort ne sab barbaad kar diya.


Private jet, dolphins, fancy dinners—ab sab poisoned. Har palm tree, har sparkling pool Davendra ke game ka part feel.
Sitting room mein Dad aur Davendra already up, coffee pe laugh.


Dad usual cheerful mood mein, hair shower se damp, bright blue polo. “Wahan mera ladka!” unhone call, mujhe wave. “Davendra abhi Goa mein monsoon outrun ki story bata rahe the—paddy field mein slip!”


Davendra chuckle, chair pe lean back, linen shirt aur khakis mein casual. “Mud knees tak, Kishore. Socha rice planting karunga zindagi bhar.”
Dad table slap, roar. “Jai, photo mein uska face dekhna chahiye—pure panic!”


Maine forced smile, jaw tight. “Morning Dad. Morning sir.” Sir shabd ash taste.
Main Davendra ka coffee uske lap pe dump karna chahta, chillana last night Mom ke saath kya kiya ya Dad ko bata dena. Lekin swallow kiya, nod jaise Dad baat karte rahe.


“Soya okay, beta?” Dad ne poocha, mujhe orange juice daalte. “Thoda tired lag raha.”
“Fine,” mutter, unke across baith. “Bas… long night.”


Davendra ki eyes mujhpe flick, second ke liye sharp, phir easy grin. “Big day ahead, Jai. Waterfall hike, phir jet-skiing. In?”
“Haan sure,” flat voice. Glass grip, knuckles white. Sochta normal act kar sakta last night ke baad?
Dad notice nahi, abhi chuckle.


“Yeh aadmi stories for days. Yaad hai ’98 dock strike, sir? Tumne workers ko—”
“Oh Kishore, mat shuru karo,” Davendra wave, lekin smile, praise love.


Maine pee ke liye excuse, unki laughter se break. Bathroom mein cold water face pe, reflection stare. Get it together. Bahar nikla, Mom kitchen mein fruit chop.

Woh dark blue blouse aur white saree mein, hair tied back, usual grace lekin slower, careful. Uski badi gaand sway mango reach karte, robe familiar roundness outline.






Ek split second socha mom—Kyun jaldi nahi bhagi? Kyun room mein ruki?—phir yaad aaya push, panicked sprint hall down.
Usne fight back kiya. Hum choose kiya. Chest thoda loose. Phir good feel, proud even.


Paas gaya, counter lean. “Morning Mom.”


Woh startled upar dekhi, phir smile—too quick, too bright. “Morning beta. Bhookh? Fruit salad bana rahi, stove pe paratha.”
“Sounds good,” light rakh. “Tum okay?”


Uski eyes flick away, mango focus. “Fine, bas… early. Coffee brew ho rahi agar chahiye.”


Uski badi gaand wahan thi stove turn karte, robe tight pull, full heavy curves show.
Kabhi drawer mein kuch pick karne thoda bend.










Maine fast away dekha, floor stare. Uski badi gaand nahi dekhna—not last night ke baad, not Davendra ke haath memory mein burned.


Wrong feel notice karna, jaise betray by glance. Decide: Eyes anywhere else. Usse aur staring nahi chahiye, not even me.
Mom apne mein nahi thi, hundred ways show. Smile eyes tak nahi, laugh forced Dad call se. Move jaise brace, shoulders tense, haath bangles fidget.


Usually hum cook karte, sweets tease, head mein song pe dance. Aaj quiet, mechanical. Fruit chop too focus, counter twice wipe already clean.


Eyes sitting room dart, phir away, Davendra voice track. Kyun pata—last night shaken. Scared try again, ya find out. Lekin nahi poocha.


Nahi sakta. Abhi nahi.
“Last night tea thanks,” banana grab haath busy.


Woh nod, mujhe na dekh. “Anytime beta. Sleep help?”
“Thoda,” lie. “Tum okay soyi?”


Knife pause.
“Oh jaante ho. Resort beds adjust. Forced chuckle, hollow.


Hug karna chahta, bataun dekha, proud run. Words stuck. Instead, “Breakfast help chahiye batao.”
“Sweet ho,” arm pat. “Baith. Main kar lungi.”


Baad mein dining table, Mom breakfast serve—fluffy parathas, fruit salad, scrambled eggs, masala chai pot.
Humare around move, plates refill, lekin eyes Davendra pe nahi. Dish pass, table, wall, anywhere. Tea daalte haath shake, spout wobble.


Dad oblivious, eggs pile. “Prisha, restaurant-level swear. Sir, uska aloo paratha try—mouth melt.”
Davendra smile, lean back. “Divine hoga Kishore. Prisha, spoil kar rahi.”


Mom mumble, “Just breakfast,” fast turn. Eye contact avoid.
Phir hua—Davendra ko tea daalte, pot zyada tip. Hot chai thighs pe splash, khakis soak. Woh yelp, jump. “Whoa—hot!”
Mom gasp, pot clatter drop. “Oh no! Sorry!” Napkin grab, frantic, thighs wipe, quick panicked strokes.


Tea seep, boxers outline. Penis shape clear—thick, long, cloth press. Mom eyes flick down wipe karte, freeze second, realize.
Face red flush.
Davendra stare notice, slow knowing smile, touch mein lean. “Careful Prisha. Tum bhi burn.”


Woh smile nahi. Lips thin, haath yank, napkin crumple. “I—I towel laati,” stammer, kitchen bolt.
Main Davendra pe livid. Smug smile, lean enjoy panic—table flip chahta. Play kar raha, last night taunt.


Dad clueless, chair wipe socha. “Prisha upholstery worry mat,” call, paratha munch. “Thodi chai hurt nahi!”
Maine sab notice—Mom frozen stare, retreat, Davendra grin. Towel leke wapas, word bina de, phir wipe nahi. Counter busy, back hume, shoulders rigid.


Din waterfall hike drag—stunning, barely dekha. Mind elsewhere, Davendra watch, Mom. Woh Dad close stick, jokes loud laugh, Davendra eyes avoid.


Us raat Davendra lavish seaside restaurant—open-air, fairy lights palms, live band soft jazz. Tables white linen, crystal glasses, grilled prawns, lobster thermidor, saffron rice platters.


Mom Dad arm-in-arm whole time, steps quick keep, shield jaise. Davendra behind lag, slow only Dad ke saath, never alone.
Davendra notice—eyes narrow Mom Dad story dock mishap laugh, ya dessert shoulder lean.


Pata tha plan kuch. Watch tarika, smile eyes tak nahi Dad praise. Patient, calculating, moment wait. Nahi hone dunga. Mom glue stick, nothing happen. Phir near nahi.


Mom dress pleased nahi. Full yellow saree, lekin traditional nahi—usual modest nahi. Blouse sleeveless, low-cut, tight, boobs spill, heavy round, har step jiggle.

[Deepak_bull]

Update is coming in the next few minutes