Kal Ka Udhaar
Rohan ki zindagi ka sabse boring part tha uski subah.
Roz alarm bajta, woh snooze karta, aur sochta, "Kal se pakka kuch naya karunga."
Problem yeh tha… kal kabhi aata hi nahi tha.
Ek din raat 6:17 a.m. (haan, weird timing), uske flat ka door knock hua.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Rohan ne darwaza khola. Bahar ek buddha aadmi khada tha—grey coat, sharp aankhein, aur ajeeb si shanti.
"Beta," usne kaha, "kal udhaar milega?"
Rohan hansa. "Uncle, paisa nahi hai."
"Paisa nahi chahiye," buddhe ne muskurate hue bola. "Sirf kal."
Rohan ne door band kar diya.
Agli subah jab woh utha, phone dekha—Wednesday.
Par use Tuesday yaad tha. Poora ka poora.
Same lunch. Same boring meeting. Same Instagram scroll.
Uska kal gayab tha.
Agli subah 6:17 pe phir knock hua.
"Aapne mera kal le liya," Rohan bola, gusse mein.
"Le nahi liya," buddha bola. "Use kiya. Tum use kar hi nahi rahe the."
Rohan chup ho gaya.
"Tum hamesha sochte ho," buddha bola, "ek din gym join karunga, ek din call karunga, ek din try karunga. Par woh din kabhi aata nahi."
"Tum kaun ho?" Rohan ne poocha.
"Main un logon ko kal deta hoon jinke paas sirf aaj bacha hota hai."
Buddhe ne pocket se ek ghadi nikali—ruki hui.
"Ek maa ke liye," usne kaha, "jise apne bete ko maaf karne ke liye 10 minute chahiye the."
Dusri ghadi.
"Ek ladki ke liye, jise bas 5 second chahiye the… bridge se wapas mudne ke."
Rohan ki aankhein bhar aayi.
Agli subah jab knock hua, Rohan ne darwaza nahi khola.
"Kal udhaar nahi milega," woh bola andar se. "Main use kar raha hoon."
Us din Rohan ne gym join kiya.
Apni ex ko call kiya.
Apna startup idea likhna shuru kiya.
Zindagi thodi scary thi… par real thi.
Buddha dobara kabhi nahi aaya.
Par Rohan aaj bhi 6:17 a.m. uth jaata hai.
Kyunki kuch cheezein…
udhaar pe nahi chhodni chahiye.