Yeh kahani us din ki hai jab ek chhoti si grocery store mein insaaniyat aur ghuroor ka imtihaan ho gaya.
Shehar ke beechon-beech yeh store hamesha bheer se bhara rehta tha. Counter number teen par ek jawan cashier thi—naam uska Riya. Tez bolne wali, tez haath chalane wali, aur thodi si maghroor. Uska manna tha ke time paisa hai, aur jo uske hisaab se “slow” tha, woh uske liye bojh.
Us din counter par ek buzurg aadmi kharay thay. Patli si jacket, purani chappal, safed daadhi, aur haathon mein thartharahat. Unhon ne apni jeb se chhote chhote sikke nikaalne shuru kiye. Coins ginne mein waqt lag raha tha.
Line ke peeche logon ne aahista aahista saans bharni shuru kar di.
Riya ne aankhen ghuma kar kaha,
“Uncle, jaldi kijiye. Yahan log wait kar rahe hain.”
Buzurg ne sharminda si muskurahat ke saath kaha,
“Beta, bas thode se hi reh gaye hain.”
Jaise jaise sikke counter par rakhe ja rahe thay, Riya ka chehra sakht hota gaya. Aakhirkaar uska sabr toot gaya.
“Seriously?” usne tez awaaz mein kaha.
“Poora store ruk gaya hai sirf aapke coins ki wajah se?”
Buzurg ke haath kaanp gaye. Kuch sikke counter ke kinare se phisal kar neeche tiles par gir gaye.
Riya ne jhuk kar madad karne ke bajaye, pair se coins ko thoda aur aage dhakel diya.
“Gir gaye hain toh uthaiye,” usne be-parwahi se kaha.
“Line delay ho rahi hai.”
Store mein achanak khamoshi chha gayi. Kuch log nazar jhuka gaye, kuch ne mooh pher liya. Kisi mein himmat nahi thi bolne ki.
Buzurg dheere se jhukne lage. Unki kamar seedhi nahi ho rahi thi. Logon ke saamne zameen par jhukna unke liye sirf jism ka nahi, izzat ka bojh bhi tha.
Tabhi ek awaaz aayi—gehri, saaf, aur pur-waqar.
“Bas. Ab kaafi hai.”
Riya ne palat kar dekha.
Uske peeche ek well-dressed aadmi khara tha—dark blue suit, polished shoes, aur aankhon mein aisi sakhti jo sirf power se aati hai. Uske saath store ka manager bhi tha, jo pasine mein bheega hua lag raha tha.
Aadmi ne aage badh kar zameen se sikke uthaye aur buzurg ke haath mein rakh diye.
Phir Riya ki taraf dekha.
“Tum yahan kaam kar rahi ho, iska matlab yeh nahi ke tum logon ki tauheen kar sakti ho.”
Riya ne ghabra kar kaha,
“Sir… main toh bas—”
“Tum bas kya?” usne baat kaat di.
“Ek buzurg aadmi ko sab ke saamne zaleel karna? Paisa coins mein ho ya notes mein, uski keemat kam nahi hoti.”
Store bilkul silent tha. Cash register ki beep bhi jaise ruk gayi ho.
Aadmi ne manager ki taraf dekha.
“Yeh mere store mein kaam karti hai?”
Manager ne haan mein sir hila diya.
“Toh sun lo,” aadmi ne kaha, awaaz bilkul thandi.
“Yeh yahan aakhri din hai.”
Riya ka chehra safed pad gaya.
“Kya? Sir, please—”
“Tum done ho,” aadmi ne seedha kaha.
“Abhi.”
Phir usne buzurg aadmi ki taraf dekha, naram lehje mein.
“Uncle, aapka bill main pay karta hoon. Aur agar aapko bura laga ho, toh mujhe maaf kijiye. Yeh store aap jaise logon ki wajah se chal raha hai.”
Buzurg ki aankhon mein aansu aa gaye.
“Beta,” unhon ne dheere se kaha,
“Main paison se ghareeb ho sakta hoon… lekin izzat se nahi.”
Line mein kharay logon ne pehli baar seedha dekha. Kisi ne taali bajayi. Kisi ne sir jhukaya.
Riya chup chaap khari rahi, jaise ab use samajh aa gaya ho ke taqat bina insaaniyat ke kuch bhi nahi hoti.
Aur us din, ek chhoti si grocery store mein, sab ne ek badi baat seekh li—
izzat sirf kapdon se nahi, rawaiye se hoti hai.
