Subah ke 8 baje the. Barish ke baad ki mitti ki khushboo hawa mein ghuli thi aur puri gali mein ek ajeeb si tazgi thi. Kamlesh aunty apne hamesha ke routine ke mutabiq, apna jhola leke sabzi mandi pahunch chuki thi. Unka kurta, hamesha ki tarah saaf aur pressing wala, is baar thoda alag tha – mustard color ka, floral design ke saath. Unki chal mein ek tezi thi, jaise unki zindagi ki har subah mein ek mission hota ho – sabse taazi aur sasti sabziyaan lena.
Mandiyon ka charm hi alag hota hai. Wahaan ke log, unki boli, aur ek ajeeb sa connection sabziyon ke saath. Kamlesh aunty sabziyon ko haath laga-laga kar unka texture mehsoos kar rahi thi. “Ye tamatar toh bahut pak gaye hain bhaiya, 30 ke 2 kilo doge kya?” Unki awaaz mein daam todne ka purana tajurba jhalak raha tha.
Ussi theli ke corner par khadi thi Rekha, ek college student, jo pehli baar apni maa ke kehne par akeli mandi aayi thi. Uska mask uske chehre ka aadha hissa chhupa raha tha, par uski aankhon mein ek jhalak thi curiosity ki – ye log sabziyon ko aise tap-tapake kaise check kar lete hain? Usne quietly ek lauki uthayi, fir wapas rakh di.
Kamlesh aunty ki nazar us par padi. “Beta, lauki lene ka tarika hota hai. Usko halki thap do, agar khankhankaye to fresh hai,” unhone kaha, bina kisi ego ke, jaise woh har ek naye aane wale ko sabzi bazaar ki knowledge dena apna farz samajhti ho.
Tabhi ek sabziwala, Shyam bhaiya, apni gadi le kar aaya jisme har taraf se hara-bhara samaan dikh raha tha – tori, tinda, lauki, karela... aur ek kone mein tomatoes ka wrapped crate. Uske pass hi khadi thi Lata, jiske kurte ki print mein mustard aur pink phool the, jaise aam zindagi mein bhi thoda rang bhar rahe ho. Uska haath tomatoes ki crate par tha, par aankhon mein ek chinta – “Kitna mehnga ho gaya hai sab kuch...”
Wahaan khadi do aur auratein apne masks ke andar gossip kar rahi thi – “Pichli baar toh pyaz 60 tak gaya tha, is baar toh bhagwaan hi bachaye.” Ek ne kaha, “Lekin Shyam bhaiya ki sabzi sabse fresh hoti hai, isliye main hamesha yahin se leti hoon.”
Shyam bhaiya ek muskurahat ke saath har customer ka swaagat karta – “Aaj subah ki lauki hai didi, aur yeh tamatar toh seedha farm se aaye hain.” Unki mehnat unke haathon se aur cart ke har ek kone se jhalak rahi thi.
Mandiyon mein sirf sabziyon ka lena-dena nahi hota, wahaan hoti hai ek kahaani – har customer ki, har vendor ki. Jaise Kamlesh aunty ki ek alag bonding thi Shyam bhaiya ke saath. Pichle lockdown mein jab sab kuch bandh tha, tab Shyam bhaiya hi the jo unke ghar tak sabzi chhod kar aate the. Aaj bhi woh uss ehsaas ke liye unke stall pe rukti thi, thoda zyada daam hone ke bawajood.
Rekha wahan se seekh rahi thi – price negotiation, sabzi pehchanna, aur woh subtle warmth jo sirf ek Indian mandi mein mehsoos hoti hai. Usne quietly ek bhari lauki li, thodi si negotiation ki aur fir muskurate hue nikal gayi – jaise ek chhoti si jeet hasil hui ho.
Bazaar ki us bheed mein ek ajeeb si organized chaos thi. Plastic mein band sabziyaan, mitti se bhare fresh vegetables, logon ke beech mein chalte hue hawayein, aur kabhi-kabhi halki si chillam-chillam bhi – sab kuch milke ek aisi duniya banata tha jahan har ek subah nayi hoti thi, par kahaniyan wahi purani.
Kamlesh aunty ne apna jhola bhara, ek last baar sabziyon ko check kiya, aur nikalte waqt Shyam bhaiya se boli, “Agli baar methi bhi lana.” Shyam bhaiya sir hilate hue bole, “Zaroor didi, agli baar aapke liye special.”
Aur phir, bazaar apne routine mein laut aaya – naye customers, naye daam, naye mukhote, par wahi purani warmth.
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