Kamre Mein Kachahari (The Courtroom in the Room)
Amit slumped onto his bed, the events of the morning still a fresh memory. He knew it wouldn't be long before the inquisition began. He didn't have to wait long. The door creaked open, and his mother entered, followed closely by his father. The afternoon light filtering through the curtains cast long shadows in the small room, but the atmosphere still felt heavy.
"Yeh kya tareeka hai aane ka?" his mother began, her voice laced with the same disappointment from downstairs. (What is this way of coming home?) She stood near the foot of his bed, arms crossed, her gaze unwavering.
His father sat on the edge of Amit's desk chair, looking at him with a mixture of concern and sternness. He let his wife take the lead initially, a familiar pattern in their household.
"Mummy, maine aapko bataya toh tha ki party hai," Amit mumbled, avoiding eye contact. (Mom, I had told you there's a party.)
"Haan, bataya tha! Party hai. Yeh nahi bataya tha ki party poori raat chalegi aur sahab ghar aayenge jab dopahar ho gayi hogi!" she retorted, her voice rising again. (Yes, you told me! There's a party. You didn't tell me that the party would go on all night and that the gentleman would come home when it's already afternoon!) "Raat bhar humne kitni chinta ki, tumhe andaaza bhi hai?" (Do you even have an idea how much we worried all night?)
"Maa, woh..." Amit started, trying to find the right words.
"Woh kya? Woh yeh ki tumhari zimmedari khatam ho gayi hai? Ki ghar mein koi tumhara intezaar kar raha hoga, iska tumhe khayal bhi nahi aaya?" she interrupted, her voice filled with genuine hurt. (What 'that'? That your responsibility is over? That you didn't even think that someone at home would be waiting for you?)
His father finally spoke, his tone calmer but firm. "Amit, teri maa theek keh rahi hai. Ek phone call karne mein kya jaata? Hum koi tumhe bandh ke toh rakhte nahi hain. Bas yeh toh pata hona chahiye ki tum kahaan ho aur kab tak aaoge." (Amit, your mother is right. What would have it taken to make a phone call? We don't keep you locked up. We just need to know where you are and when you will be back.)
"Papa, woh dosto ke beech mein..." Amit repeated his earlier excuse, sounding less convincing even to himself.
His mother scoffed. "Dosto ke beech mein maa baap bhool gaye? Kal ko biwi ke beech mein humein bhi bhool jaoge kya?" (You forgot your parents in the midst of your friends? Tomorrow, will you forget us in the midst of your wife too?)
"Arey mummy, aap toh baat ko kahaan se kahaan le ja rahi ho!" Amit exclaimed, finally looking up, a hint of frustration in his voice. (Oh Mom, where are you taking the conversation!)
"Toh main kya karoon? Phool mala pehnaoon tumhe ki tum poori raat gayab rahe aur hum yahaan pareshan hote rahein?" she shot back, her eyes welling up slightly. (So what should I do? Should I garland you for staying out all night while we kept worrying here?) "Tumhe pata hai, jab tum phone nahi utha rahe the, toh mera dil kitna ghabra raha tha? Kuch ho gaya toh?" (Do you know how anxious my heart was when you weren't answering your phone? What if something had happened?)
His father sighed and placed a hand on Amit's leg. "Dekh Amit, hum tumhe daant nahi rahe hain sirf daantne ke liye. Humari chinta hai. Tum ab bachche nahi ho, hum samajhte hain. Lekin thodi toh zimmedari dikhao. Humara bhi toh haq hai na, yeh jaanane ka ki humara beta theek hai?" (Look Amit, we are not scolding you just for the sake of scolding. We are worried. You are not a child anymore, we understand. But show a little responsibility. Don't we also have the right to know if our son is okay?)
Amit looked at his father, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. He knew his parents weren't being unreasonable. He had been thoughtless.
"Haan papa, aap theek keh rahe hain. Galti ho gayi mujhse," Amit said, his voice softer now. (Yes, Papa, you are right. I made a mistake.)
His mother's expression softened slightly, but the sternness was still there. "Galti ho gayi? Bas itna hi? Tumhe pata hai, Sumit bhi kitna pareshan tha? Raat bhar jaagta raha tumhara intezaar karte hue." (A mistake happened? That's it? Do you know how worried Sumit was too? He stayed awake all night waiting for you.)
"Haan maa, mujhe pata hai. Main usse bhi sorry bolunga," Amit said, feeling a pang of guilt for worrying his younger brother. (Yes Mom, I know. I will apologize to him too.)
His father nodded. "Achhi baat hai. Aage se dhyaan rakhna. Hum tumhe rok nahi rahe hain dosto se milne se ya party karne se. Bas humein inform kar diya karo. Ek message hi bhej diya karo ki der hogi." (That's good. Be careful in the future. We are not stopping you from meeting your friends or partying. Just inform us. Just send a message that you will be late.)
His mother added, her voice still carrying a hint of emotion, "Haan, bas ek khabar mil jaaye toh humara dil shaant rahega. Hum yahaan bechaini mein pal pal marte hain jab tumhara koi pata nahi chalta." (Yes, if we just get some news, our hearts will be at peace. We die every moment here in anxiety when we don't know anything about you.)
Amit looked at both his parents, seeing the worry lines on their faces in the afternoon light. He felt a wave of remorse wash over him. He had taken their concern for granted.
"Aage se aisa nahi hoga, maa, papa. Main pakka aapko bata diya karunga," Amit promised sincerely. (This won't happen again, Mom, Dad. I promise I will definitely inform you.)
His father patted his leg again. "Theek hai. Ab jaa, thoda aaram kar le. Lekin yaad rakhna apni baat." (Okay. Now go, rest for a bit. But remember your promise.)
His mother still looked unconvinced but nodded slowly. "Theek hai. Lekin agar dobara aisi galti hui toh mujhse bura koi nahi hoga," she said sternly before finally turning and walking out of the room, the afternoon sun catching the silver in her hair. His father gave Amit a reassuring look before following her, leaving Amit alone with his thoughts and the weight of his promise. He knew he had some making up to do.