5. MY FIRST JOB AS A LECTURER (YEAR 1970)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN
The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 5 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book from Chapter 01 onwards.

It was the first week of July 1970 when I boarded the overnight train to Dehra Dun to attend the interview for the post of lecturer at Dayanand Women’s Training College. The train reached Dehra Dun in the morning, and my father’s elder brother was at the railway station to receive me. Sitting on the pillion of his Luna and holding the suitcase in my left hand, I reached his house. The rest of the day was spent renewing relationships and resting. When I went to sleep, I started thinking about the interview the next day. My MA result had not been announced until then. Would they still consider me for the appointment: I could not help wondering. I told myself tomorrow is another day. I will think about it tomorrow.

It was raining in Dehra Dun, and the weather was nice and cool, unlike hot and humid Lucknow. Snug in the blanket and listening to the continuous tipper-tapper of the rain, I was soon fast asleep.

At midnight, I woke up with a start to the sharp sound of the doorbell. My room was closest to the door, so I opened it to find the postman wearing a Duckback raincoat and carrying an umbrella. He had come to deliver a telegram addressed to me. It was from my father.

I hurriedly tore open the pink envelope and read it: “CONGRATULATIONS(.) FIRST CLASS FIRST(.)”

The result had been announced the day after I left, and the telegram was the only way to inform me. I was on top of the world but missed being with my parents at that joyous moment. I knew how happy and proud they must have felt. After all, my father had goaded me on to achieve a First Class First.

The next day, when I reached DWT College to attend the interview, the Chairperson of the Interview Board asked me whether my MA result had been announced. In response, I presented her with the telegram I had received the previous night. After a few general questions, I was handed an appointment letter and asked to join immediately.

Thus, within twenty-four hours of the announcement of my MA result, I was saddled with a job. Whoever said there was a shortage of jobs those days was unaware of the job market. Or was it sheer luck for me?

Dayanand Women's Training College, Dehra Dun, the first stop of my professional journey.

The next day, I started teaching the undergrads. It was a breeze. I knew the subject thoroughly and did not have to prepare for my lectures. I used the Chalk and Talk method. The Dehra Dun climate was nice and cool, the colleagues were relaxed and happy, and the students were sincere and respectful, although many were older than me.

In short, life was really cool. But is this what I really wanted?

(To be continued...)

4. MOVING TO THE JUMPING BOARD (YEAR 1970)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN
The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 4 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book from Chapter 01 onwards.

It was the summer of 1970, and the afternoon was hot. The mercury was soaring high, and the usual crowd on the roads of Lucknow, the City of Nawabs, had disappeared. The rickshaw pullers had parked their rickshaws on the roadside under the trees and were taking a much-needed nap.

I started from the Lucknow University campus, riding my bicycle leisurely. The scorching sun and the unusually high temperature had no effect on me, and I was enjoying the ride. The usual sense of urgency was missing that day, and I hummed a song as I cycled back. There was no hurry to reach home. I was returning from university after writing the last paper for the post-graduation examination. Since this was the last paper, a weight had lifted off my head, and a pleasant feeling of liberation had set in.

I reached home, opened the gate and put my bicycle on the stand. From the window, I could see my father concentrating on some official papers while seated in the living room. It was the second Saturday of the month and a holiday, but he was busy with his official files.

As I entered the room, without lifting his eyes from the file he was reading, he asked, “How was your exam?"

“Easy! Everything that I had prepared particularly well came in the question paper," I replied excitedly, as I had written the answers exceptionally well.

“This was your last examination, right? Good! What do you plan to do now?” He put down the file he was reading, raised his head, removed his reading glasses, and leaned back on the easy chair, still holding his Parker fountain pen.

“I have not thought about it, Papa. Right now, the only thing I can think of is catching up on some sleep,” I suddenly felt exhausted. Keeping awake night after night and studying hard for the MA examination had left me sleep-starved for weeks, and I yearned for some rest.

“Why not join Varma Institute for typing and shorthand classes during the summer vacation?” He suggested in his usual sombre style that came with years of working in the civil services.

“Papa, I am not going to become a typist. I will have a stenographer taking dictations from me when I take up a job,” I sounded conceited.

Among all my siblings, I was the only one who could take such liberties with him. He looked at me and smiled indulgently. He knew his daughter well and was aware of his ambitions for her.

“Hmmm…. In that case, how about enrolling for a PhD?”

“No, Papa, please. No PhD for me. I think I have studied enough. I want to take up a job now,” my tone was a little firm.

Trying to change the subject, I quickly said, “Papa, would you like to have coffee? I am going to brew some for me.”

Without waiting for an answer, I rushed to the kitchen.

I was weary of proving myself continuously year after year, and now wished to break free from the shackles of books and studies. Little did I realize then that the need to prove had become an indelible part of my life script and was going to trail me all along my life

Triggered by the dialogue with my father, I prepared an Employment Look-out Register and started scanning newspapers daily. The job market was in a total slump and provided few job opportunities for a twenty-year-old post-graduate. Undeterred by the unfavourable employment scenario, I started sending applications wherever I saw an opening. The advertisement was neatly cut and pasted in the register and, details of the applications were meticulously noted in the register.

Sooner than anyone in the family had expected, I started receiving interview calls from various degree colleges in far-off small towns. The first interview call was from a post-graduate college in Ambala, but my father did not allow me to go there. This was the college that had given him his first job as lecturer in Economics Department way back in 1946. 

There were a few other calls too, but my parents would not agree to let me go to those places in the hinterland of Uttar Pradesh. They were not against my working there but were worried about my safety and security. Unlike me, they knew the hazards of a young single woman staying alone in a backward town.

Finally, there was an interview call from Dayanand Women Training College in Dehra Dun for the post of lecturer in Political Science, which my parents allowed me to attend mainly because his elder brother lived there and I could stay with them.

Without losing a moment, I pedalled to Charbagh Railway Station on my bike to book my train tickets for Dehra Dun.

(To be continued.....)

3. A WORKING WOMAN WAS BORN (YEAR 1960)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN
The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 3 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book from Chapter 01 onwards.

In the early 1960s, when I was in my pre-teen years, I witnessed a man in my neighbourhood beating his wife mercilessly. This was a recurring event that disturbed me deeply every day.

One day, I asked my mother, "Why does she tolerate her husband's daily abuse? Why doesn't she leave him?"

My mother replied with a level but mournful tone, "Where will she go with her four small children? Who will take care of her?"

"Why does she endure the physical violence every day? She can work somewhere and live independently," I protested.

"It's not that simple, my child. She is illiterate and won't find work. Furthermore, raising four children alone will be impossible," my mother explained.

"Why can't she return to her parents?"

"Her parents are old and sick, and they also depend on their son, who is not financially stable," my mother replied with agony.

"Then what is the solution for women in this situation?"

"Women must become financially independent. Only when they can support themselves will they be treated as equals," my mother explained.

 

I learned a valuable lesson that day: financial independence is the key to controlling one's life. I had a clear goal for my future: to study hard, establish a career, and never depend on anyone financially.

 

If a woman wishes to rise from a subordinate level in the society, she must first learn to be self-reliant. Financial independence is undoubtedly the cornerstone of one's independence and self-respect.

If I want to hold my head high, I must not depend on anyone financially, I told myself.

A future working woman was born that day!

(To be continued....)

 

2. PREFACE: STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN ( YEAR 2023)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 2 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book from Chapter 01 onwards.

Stress, Success and Everything In-Between is a collection of actual anecdotes, related to my work life which started in 1970.

I was a small-town girl with high ambitions who grew up in the middle of the twentieth century and decided to take up a career in the corporate world. Born in a family with high values and a traditional lifestyle and brought up with high expectations of the parents, I left the secure and comfortable life of a university lecturer, chose a path less travelled and entered the financial jungle trodden by few women. The new life took me through myriad experiences and threw up new challenges regularly. I accepted every challenge and strived hard to come out a winner, never allowing my gender to limit me in a male bastion called Banking.

 

The outcome of my decision was struggle throughout my work life, whether for entry into the lunch room or striving for a promotion, handling a rogue borrower or coping with the rowdy labour unions or trying to strike a work-life balance between a highly demanding professional life and multiple domestic responsibilities as a wife, a mother, a daughter and a daughter-in-law.

 

The long and challenging journey, lasting almost four decades, is a commentary full of pains and pleasures, fears and fortitude, frustrations and satisfaction, struggles and successes of a first-generation working woman who tried to climb the corporate ladder without any godfather, and who also tried to be a good wife, a caring mother and a dutiful daughter and daughter-in-law.

All along this arduous journey, it was a question of survival for me, survival from everyone and everything. I had to survive my competitive peers. I had to withstand a few spineless bosses. I had to come up to the standards of the ever-demanding customers. I had to handle the threats from rogue borrowers. I had to motivate the non-co-operative juniors. And I also had to take the militant trade unions head-on. On the personal front, I had to survive as a wife, as a mother and above all, as a woman. And I had to cope with transfers, and yes, how can I forget how I survived the loo blues. And I survived it all successfully and came out a winner.

Despite these challenges, if given an opportunity to relive my life, I will again undertake this arduous journey rather than opting for innumerable cushy and comfortable options. And I will do it for the self-enrichment I experienced in this journey, the immense satisfaction I felt in accepting countless challenges, the enormous self-growth I achieved, and the self-pride I developed. In the bank, I experienced a lifetime of action, numerous gratifying experiences, some tense moments, a few spine-chilling occasions, intermittent fights for gender equality, and relationships culminating into life-long bonds. I also came face to face with moments of truth. I experienced unprecedented personal and professional growth, all in my forty years of association with the bank!

Whenever I heard the words of discouragement, I threw them out of the window of my life and continued to struggle against the odds. I did not take life as it came. I fought it every step of the way. Today when I look back, I am a contented woman. I can stand tall and laugh at the people who challenged me and told me that a woman cannot. I did it my way, the long hard way.

Balancing my personal life with the challenges of a demanding career, struggling to disprove the preconceived notions about working women, working doubly hard to be termed half as good as a male colleague, and fighting for my rights, an effort has been made in this book to take the reader through different 

experiences of my professional life. Written as independent anecdotes of various stages of my professional life, struggling and surviving could be the story of any working woman in India.

(To be continued....)

1. MY HEART OVERFLOWS WITH GRATITUDE ( 2023)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

My Heart Overflows with Gratitude 

While navigating my forty-year-long professional journey, I received immense support from numerous groups of people to whom I will forever be grateful. Without their help, support and guidance, I would not have been able to sail through my demanding career.

I feel a deep sense of gratitude to my male colleagues, seniors, juniors and peers, who have shown confidence in me and helped me handle successfully the challenges at the workplace. Their support, guidance, help and mentorship have been critical to my success, and I am truly grateful for their trust and belief in me.

With heartfelt gratitude, I acknowledge the support of my women colleagues, who have been a constant source of support throughout my work life. Their unwavering help and camaraderie have given me the strength to overcome every obstacle in my work life. I will forever be grateful to them for offering the shoulder whenever needed. They continue to be invaluable even after retirement from active service.

I will fail in my duty if I do not acknowledge the support of my family. My husband stood by me like a solid rock at every stage of my professional life. He wiped my tears whenever I stumbled and shared the domestic responsibilities equally, sometimes even taking over more than his share, so I could follow my dream.

My heartfelt gratitude is also due to my sons, who never made me feel guilty about not giving them enough time during their growing years.

I can never repay the debt for the support provided by my family, my parents, parents-in-law, sisters-in-law, uncles, aunts, siblings, and cousins, who offered a helping hand and attended to my children whenever I could not take leave.

My book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between is, therefore, rightly dedicated to all my colleagues, mentors, friends, family and relatives who have made this long journey possible. 

Thank you all for being a part of my professional journey!

(To be continued...)

A SWEET REVENGE (Short Story)

It was a lazy afternoon. One could feel the presence of the warm summer winds in the afternoon. Kishan Singh, the peon working in the Government Primary School in the small village of Ugrahoo, located on the outskirts of Saharanpur, was sitting leisurely in the front veranda of the school and smoking a beedi. The last period was running and there still was about an hour for him to ring the final bell for the school to be over for the day. Cupping the beedi in his hand, he inhaled a deep puff and slowly blew the smoke out, his eyes half closed with boredom. Suddenly, the purring sound of an engine at a distance drew his attention. Curious to explore the source of the sound, he slowly stood up and stretched himself. At a distance, he spotted a white Ambassador car moving towards the school. Finding it rather unusual, he kept staring in that direction inquisitively.

“Who could be coming to this side of the village in a car? Rather unusual. Nobody ever comes here,” he mumbled slowly as he squinted his eyes to have a better look at the car. As the car moved a little closer, he was able to read the bold identity of the occupant painted on it. The car of DISTRICT MAGISTRATE, SAHARANPUR was moving towards the school. Startled, he threw away the beedi and dashed hurriedly towards the Head Master’s room.

Getting out of breath from excitement and panting with the unprecedented exertion from this unusual activity, he announced incoherently “Sir!.... Sir! ….Sir!.....DM saab!!!…. DM saab is coming to the school.”

Tula Ram, the headmaster, who was leisurely sprawled on an easy chair in his room, his face covered with the local Hindi newspaper to ward off the flies, was half asleep. Looking at Kishan Singh with disbelief, he got up with a jerk and moved hurriedly towards the entrance of the school.

By this time, the car had already entered the premises of the dilapidated village school and the young District Magistrate was alighting from the car. Dressed casually in a grey pant and half sleeved white shirt, he was looking at the school building critically, noticing its poorly maintained premises. The Headmaster rushed to him with folded hands and bent forward to touch his feet but he stepped backwards.

“Hey! What are you doing? You are a teacher and teachers are the incarnation of God. You should not kneel at anybody’s feet,” he folded his hands respectfully towards the Headmaster.

Embarrassed with this unexpected humility from such a high-ranking officer in the feudal state of Uttar Pradesh, the Headmaster Tula Ram stood transfixed until the District Magistrate smiled impishly at him, “You are Tula Ram ji, aren’t you? The Head Master of this school?” Was there a sense of recognition in his eyes?

“Yes, yes, yes Sir,” Tula Ram uttered nervously. His throat was parched with tension on meeting such a senior official for the first time in his life.

“How does he know my name?” he wondered silently.

“Will you not show me around your school, sir?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Sure, sure, sure Sir,” the Headmaster led the way nervously and the young head of district administration followed. The Headmaster was now speaking non-stop trying to portray a good picture of the school which was obviously below standard, to say the least. He was indulging in self-projection as well as boasting of the school’s performance. The young officer was listening to him but his mind appeared to be somewhere else.

“How long have you been here in this school, Tula Ram ji?”

“Sir, almost all my life except for a few years when I was transferred to Kailashpur. I am going to retire in another two years,” he added quickly fearing that he may not be moved from there.

They had now reached class sixth where a few village children were seated on the floor and a teacher was teaching them English alphabet.

“B..A..N…Ban,” the teacher said and the children repeated after him, “B..A..N…Ban.”

“M..A..N.. Man,” and the children repeated after him M..A..N.. Man. Noticing the Head Master escorting some dignitary towards his class, he abruptly stopped the spelling session and came out folding his hands deferentially. Amused, the District Magistrate prima facie listened to this mindless chanting of spellings by the children, but mentally he had already drifted into the past.

*** 

About twenty years ago, when he was barely ten years old, he used to sit in the first row of this very class room. Nothing had changed in the last twenty years. Not even the method of teaching. The entire sequence of events of that day, which had been so vividly etched in his memory, came rushing back.

“B A N Ban.” The young teacher in the class was teaching spellings to the students of the sixth standard.

“B A N Ban,” he had repeated after him.

“M A N Man,” the teacher announced the next spelling.

“M A N Man,” all the students followed in a sing-song voice.

“C A N San,” the teacher was even louder this time.

“No! C A N is not San. It is Can. CAN!” the class was interrupted by the loud voice of a young woman who had just walked into the classroom to hand over the lunch box to one of the students who had forgotten to bring it with him that day.

Incensed at the audacity of the woman, the teacher screamed at her, “C A N is San and NOT Can. Do you know better than me Nirmala?”

“I do not know that Masterji but I do know that C A N is not San. It is definitely Can,” she was assertive and appeared to know what she was saying much to the chagrin of the teacher.

“You! Illiterate woman! You know nothing and are going on arguing unnecessarily. Which idiot has told you that?” the teacher went wild with anger and lost his cool.

“Yes, yes. I am illiterate and you are educated but it looks like I know better than you do. My elder son is studying in a college in the city. I have heard him saying C A N Can and not SAN,” she did not hesitate at all before countering him boldly.

Offended and humiliated in front of his students, the teacher could not take it anymore and screamed on top of his voice, “In that case Nirmala Devi, please take away your son from this school. I refuse to teach him. Take him to your city school. There is no place for him here. Take him away, right now!”

Furious at Nirmala’s intervention, the teacher had pulled him up by the scruff of his neck and pushed him forcefully towards her. He had lost his balance but Nirmala held him midway saving him from falling on the floor.

Despite being frail and petite, Nirmala was bold and fearless. She stood straight, “Yes! I also do not want my son to sit here in this school and learn wrong things from a stupid teacher like you. It is better to remain uneducated than being taught wrong things. Come with me, son,” and she whisked him away holding the hand of the nervous ten-year-old teary-eyed boy.

Taking a few steps, she had stopped at this very spot where he was standing now, turned around and shouted back at the arrogant teacher, “And I will see to it that one day this son of mine will become a big government officer and dismiss you from the service. That day, you will kneel at your feet and beg for mercy Tula Ram. Mark my words, you swollen-headed idiot!”

“Go! Go! Go! Get lost, you haughty woman,” he called her a few names before turning his face away in disdain to light a beedi before resuming his spelling session with the rest of the class.

The ugly happenings of that day and the insult inflicted on him and his mother, which got etched in his memory for life-time, had suddenly come alive once again.

*** 

His fleeting reverie got disrupted hearing the babbling of Tula Ram who was talking non-stop to cover his shortcomings, “Sir, we start teaching our children English from class sixth itself and he is a new teacher who has joined us last month only. Before that, this post was lying vacant for many months but Sir I used to take classes although it is not part of my duty.” Rubbing his palms, he laughed nervously.

“After all, we old-timers do understand our responsibility much more than the youngsters of today. I have personally trained this young teacher in how to teach English to the students,” Tula Ram was self-eulogising non-stop.

The District Magistrate interrupted him, “And Master ji, tell me how do you pronounce C..A..N? Can or San?”

Tula Ram was stunned. On the day of that unfortunate verbal fight with Nirmala Devi, the first thing he had done on coming out of the class was to check the dictionary for the correct pronunciation of Can. He was aghast to find that Nirmala, whom he had called names and had dismissed as an uneducated woman, was right. He had felt ashamed of himself but his false ego did not allow him to accept his mistake.

Being from the same village, he got to know later that Nirmala had taken her son for admission to a school in Saharanpur which was quite some distance away but he had kept quiet. How could he admit that despite being a teacher, he was wrong?

His head spun as he said, “Sir! You? You…you are that boy? Oh my God! I am so sorry for that day,” saying so he fell at the District Magistrate’s feet.

Bending on his knees, Tula Ram was repeatedly seeking forgiveness. “Please forgive me sir. Where is Mataji? Is she with you? I will come and seek her forgiveness too.” The rest of the staff was wondering what had suddenly come over Tula Ram and why he was behaving like this. Nobody had been able to make out what the DM saab had asked him.

The District Magistrate held him by his shoulders and lifted him. He remembered his mother’s pledge of that day and smiled at him benignly, “Oh! So, you remember that day? Let’s go to your room and I will decide your punishment there only.”

By the time he reached the Headmaster’s room with all the teachers of the school tailing behind him in shocked silence, the old Head Master had regained his composure. He humbly requested, “Sir, I will be extremely grateful, if you accept to have a cup of tea with all of us. Please do not say No Sir. Otherwise, my heart will break.”

The District Magistrate pulled a chair and sat down, looked at the Headmaster pointedly, “Tea? Ok sure I will have it but only on one condition.”

Looking at all the teachers in general and at the Headmaster in particular, he asked, “This school has always been in such a shabby condition. Even your results are not up to the mark. In how much time do you think you can convert it into the best school in the District?”

All the teachers looked at each other, not sure what they could do to improve the infrastructure of the building and the quality of teaching.

“The best school in the District, sir? How is that possible? That can happen only in a dream,” Tula Ram uttered with hesitation, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“What do you need for doing so in terms of manpower, resources and financial budget? How long will you take? How soon can you prepare a plan for achieving this target?” He suddenly shot a volley of questions at him.

“Yes. I want this school to become the best school in the district,” his energetic voice sounded very positive but the teachers did not appear optimistic at all.

Gulping the last sip of tea from his cup, he looked at the Head Master in a comforting tone, “It is my dream to make this the best school. I would suggest that you sit with your team and do some brainstorming before you prepare a plan for the improvement of the school’s infrastructure and the performance. Nothing is impossible if you have a will to achieve it. Please come to my office next Monday with your full plan and we will take it forward. I am sure you can do it.”

Saying so, he stood up, shook hands with everyone and left the room. The teachers followed him up to his car and stood there with folded hands until his car disappeared leaving behind a cloud of dust wondering why out of all the schools, this young officer chose this school to become the best school in the district.

Tula Ram was the only one who knew the answer as well as why he had been awarded this challenging and arduous task. This was actually his punishment. He recalled clearly the events of that day twenty years ago when he had kicked this boy out of his class and the school. He also remembered the face of Nirmala Devi the mother of the scared child who had cursed him, “… one day this son of mine will become a big government officer and dismiss you from the service. That day, you will kneel at your feet and beg for mercy Tula Ram. Mark my words…..”
So this was the punishment, the District Magistrate had mentioned when he had fallen at his feet.

Ding dong…. ding dong…. ding dong…. Kishan Singh was sounding the bell. The school was over for the day. Suddenly, Tula Ram called Kishan Singh, “Go quickly and tell all the teachers to not to go home. Ask them to come to my room immediately. We are going to have a meeting right now.”

The revenge of Nirmala Devi had started taking effect. But he was thanking his stars that he was not dismissed from the service as cursed by her that day. No doubt, the District Magistrate had assigned him an extremely difficult task but if this was a revenge, it was a sweet revenge.

***

 

LOSS OF TWO CHILDHOOD COMPANIONS

It was an emotionally painful day. I lost two of my oldest companions who stood by me through thick and thin, all my life since my childhood. They never complained and quietly and ungrudgingly performed their role. They helped me in cracking even the hardest nuts easily but I never felt grateful to them nor did I ever acknowledge their existence in my life.

It was about two years ago that one of them fell ill. I went to the doctor and she suggested some minor process. Before I could make up my mind and go ahead with her advice, there was this unending lockdown due to Covid-19 and I hesitated to go to the doctor again. After all, I wanted to keep myself safe and not get exposed to the virus. The only option was to take care of them with home remedies. After some time, the second one had a complicated fracture too. But I was scared and wanted to keep myself safe from Covid-19. So I continued with home remedies for them.

Finally, after I had taken both the vaccine shots, I decided to go to the doctor. They had managed to survive all this while and continued to perform their job albeit not so efficiently, but their condition had deteriorated beyond redemption. The doctor declared that it was time to part ways and she brought an end to their existence. I am now missing my dear friends and there is a big void where they used to sit unseen, unheard quietly performing their duties towards me. They were two of my wisdom teeth and I am missing them. How I wish I had taken better care of them when there was still time!

माँ की अपेक्षा (लघु कथा)

            जून का महीना लगभग समाप्त होने वाला था. हॉस्टल तकरीबन खाली था.  कहीं-कहीं कोई इक्का-दुक्का छात्र दिख जाता था. ऐसे में, हॉस्टल के कमरे में, चारपाई पर वह अकेला लेटा हुआ, छत की ओर देखे जा रहा था.  उसके चेहरे पर तनाव की रेखाएं स्पष्ट दिखाई पड़ रहीं थीं. दो माह पहले, उसने एम. ए. (अर्थशास्त्र) की परीक्षा दी थी जिसका परिणाम कभी भी आ सकता था. उसे परिणाम की इतनी चिंता नहीं थी; उसे पता था कि पास तो वह हो ही जाएगा.  उसे तो चिंता थी  कि उसे कौन सा स्थान प्राप्त होगा. उसका ध्येय था कि उसे विश्वविद्यालय में प्रथम स्थान प्राप्त हो और साथ में मिले गोल्ड मैडल. गोल्ड मैडल के लिए उसे अपने अन्य सहपाठियों के साथ चल रही कड़ी स्पर्धा का भी पूरा-पूरा अनुमान था. 

सबसे अधिक स्पर्धा तो उसे अपने ही कॉलेज के एक दूसरे सहपाठी विद्या चरण से थी जो बहुत धनी परिवार से था और जिसके पास पढ़ाई के पूरे साधन मौजूद थे, चाहे पुस्तकें हों या अकेला कमरा और घर में नौकर-चाकर की सुविधा. उसके मुकाबले, उसके पास तो किताबें खरीदने के लिए भी पैसे नहीं थे. वह तो किताबों के लिए, कॉलेज की एकमात्र लाइब्रेरी पर ही पूर्णतः निर्भर था.  

परीक्षा आरम्भ होने से लगभग दो माह पूर्व की बात थी जब सभी लेक्चरर तीव्र गति से कोर्स पूरा कराने का प्रयास कर रहे थे और लगभग प्रति-दिन ही एक्स्ट्रा क्लासेज भी हो रहीं थीं. कॉलेज के प्रिंसिपल बहुत अनुशासन-प्रिय थे और अध्यापकों और छात्रों, सबके ऊपर उनकी पैनी नज़र रहती थी. कॉलेज के वातावरण में सरगर्मी थी और वह भी पढ़ाई में पूरा ध्यान लगा रहा था.  

उसकी तैयारियों को एकाएक बहुत बड़ा झटका लगा था, जब एक दिन अचानक उसे बहुत तेज बुखार चढ़ गया था और सारी पढ़ाई रखी रह गयी थी. डॉक्टर ने ब्लड टेस्ट करके बताया था कि टाइफाइड है; कम से कम इक्कीस दिन लगेंगे बुखार उतरने में और ऐसे में वह क्लास में भी नहीं जा सकता है.  खाने-पीने का ध्यान रखना है, वो अलग.  

ज्यों-त्यों कर के तीन हफ्ते निकल गए और बुखार भी उतर गया था पर कमज़ोरी इतनी कि वह खड़ा भी नहीं रह पा रहा था.  नहाने गया तो चक्कर खा कर गिर पड़ा था.  उसका रूम-मेट किसी तरह सहारा देकर उसे कमरे में लाया था.  

उसके बाथ रूम में चक्कर खा कर गिरने की बात कॉलेज में तुरंत फैल गयी थी.   दोपहर का लेक्चर ख़तम होने के बाद उसका सबसे बड़ा प्रतिद्वंदी उसके कमरे में आया और दरवाज़े से ही चिल्ला कर बोला, "अबे भूल जा अब फर्स्ट आने का सपना.  खड़ा तो हो नहीं सकता, फर्स्ट कैसे आएगा? फर्स्ट तो मैं ही आऊंगा." 

यह खुली चुनौती उसके मानस को स्वीकार नहीं हुई थी और उसने भी अपने दुर्बल पर दृढ आवाज़ में उत्तर दे दिया था, "अरे, जा जा. कुछ भी कर ले, गोल्ड मैडल तो मैं ही ले के रहूंगा."

इसके बाद तो उसने दिन-रात एक कर दिया था. पढ़ना, समझना, नोट्स बनाना और उन्हें याद करना.. लगता था कि इसके अतिरिक्त उसके जीवन में और कुछ शेष नहीं बचा था. जैसे अर्जुन को केवल चिड़िया की आँख दिखती थी, उसे केवल गोल्ड मैडल दिख रहा था.  

अब आज-कल में ही रिज़ल्टआने ही वाला था.  उसकी मनोशक्ति जो हमेशा उसके साथ थी, आज उसका साथ छोड़ती लग रही थी. 

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चारपाई पर लेटे -लेटे ही उसे अपनी माँ का ख्याल आया. गांव के कच्चे घर में अभी क्या कर रही होगी भला?  शायद मट्ठा बिलो रही होगी.  वह तो कभी खाली नहीं बैठती है. और वही तो उसके पीछे हमेशा चट्टान की तरह खड़ी रही है, चाहे स्कूल हो या कॉलेज.  चार साल पहले जब वह पढ़ाई करने यहां आना चाहता था तो घर में सबने उसका विरोध किया था पर माँ? उसने साफ़ कह दिया था, "वह आगे पढ़ना चाहता है तो उसे जाने दो.  पैसे की फ़िक्र मत करो, जैसे भी होगा, मैं संभाल लूंगी. मुझे बस एक बात पता है, मेरा यह सबसे छोटा बेटा एक दिन बहुत बड़ा अफसर बनेगा. " 

घर की पैसे की तंगी में इतना बड़ा फैसला लेना बड़ी बात थी पर माँ तो हमेशा बड़े फैसले लेने को मानो तैयार रहती थी.  गांव के मास्टरजी की एक भूल पकड़ लेने पर वह उसे गांव के प्राथमिक विद्यालय से कैसे निकाल लाई थी.  जिस मास्टर को इतना भी नहीं पता, वह बच्चों को क्या पढ़ायेगा, कह कर वह उसे शहर के स्कूल में दाखिल करवा कर आ गयी थी. और वहां उसके साथ जो कुछ हुआ था, आज भी तस्वीर की तरह आँखों के आगे घूम जाता है.   

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राजकीय माध्यमिक विद्यालय, सहारनपुर में उस दिन बहुत सरगर्मी थी. नए सत्र का पहला दिन जो था.  नए दाखिले हो चुके थे और बहुत सारे बच्चे आज पहली बार स्कूल आ रहे थे. वह भी आज पहली बार इस स्कूल में आया था. आज ही उसे यहाँ छठी कक्षा में दाखिला मिला था. शहर के इस स्कूल में उसका भी पहला दिन था.  वह कितना डरा हुआ था.  सहमा सा, सकुचाया सा, जब वह कक्षा में पहुंचा तो सब बच्चे शोर मचा रहे थे. जैसे ही उसने क्लासरूम में कदम रखा, उसे देखते ही क्लास में बैठे सब छात्र एकदम चुप हो गए और उसे देखने लगे थे.  उनकी आँखों में कौतुहल था और उत्सुकता भी.  

उसकी उम्र भी कम थी, मुश्किल से दस साल का होगा. ऊपर से उस की कद-काठी भी छोटी थी.  सांवला रंग और सिर पर मशीन से कटे हुए छोटे-छोटे बाल, साथ ही सिर पर एक चोटी भी, जिसे उसने जतन से बाँध रखा था. उसके कानों में चांदी की बालियां थी जिन्हे गांव के सुनार काका ने प्यार से उसे पहना दीं थीं, "बेटा शहर में पढ़ने जा रहा है, मेरी बनाई मुरकियां तो पहन जा."   

उसके सूती कपडे वैसे तो साफ़-सुथरे थे पर पता चल रहा था के वह महंगे तो कदाचित नहीं थे.  उसके बालों के स्टाइल, पट्टू के पाजामे और कान में पडी मुरकियों से साफ़ पता लग रहा था कि वह गांव के किसी गरीब परिवार से आया है.   

संभल-संभल कर कदम उठाता हुआ वह धीरे से क्लास में घुसा था और सबसे पीछे रखे एक खाली डेस्क पर बैठ गया था.  सारे छात्र उसे लगातार घूर रहे थे. जैसे ही उसने अपना बैग वहां रखा, एक मोटा सा गोरा लड़का उठा और उसकी तरफ इशारा करके ज़ोर से बोला, "अरे भाई, किसी को पता है क्या कि यह कौन सा जानवर है?"

दूसरे कोने से एक लड़के ने जवाब दिया, "चूहा है, चूहा." 

पूरी क्लास ज़ोर से हंस पडी थी. 

अब एक तीसरा बोला, "अरे नहीं रे, यह तो पिद्दी चूहा है," और सारे बच्चे ज़ोर-ज़ोर से हंसने लगे थे. और वह? वह असहाय और घबराया सा फर्श की ओर देखे जा रहा था.

अब एक और लड़का, जो शायद सब का नेता था ज़ोर से बोला, "अरे ओ चूहे! सामने आ और सबको बता कि तू कौन से बिल से आया है?”

अब तो उसकी हालत और खराब हो गयी थी.   

"अरे नहीं.  कोई नाम पता बताने की ज़रुरत नहीं है. यह तो एक डरा हुआ चूहा है, इसका हमारी क्लास में क्या काम है? चलो इसकी पूंछ पकड़ कर इसे बाहर फ़ेंक देते हैं," किसी ने उसकी चोटी की ओर इशारा करते हुए कहा और दो-तीन मोटे-तगड़े लड़के उसकी चोटी खींचने के इरादे से उसकी ओर बढ़ने लगे. क्लास के बाकी सब बच्चे तमाशा देख रहे थे और हंस-हंस कर मज़े ले रहे थे. 

वह डर से कांप रहा था और उसके दिल की धड़कन तेज़ होती जा रही थी. पर उसका भाग्य अच्छा था. जैसे ही उनके हाथ उसकी चोटी पर पहुँचते कि क्लास-टीचर आते हुए दिख गए. उन्हें देखते ही सब लड़के अपने-अपने डेस्क की ओर भाग गए थे और उसकी जान बच गयी थी. 

क्लास टीचर ने सब की हाज़री लगाई और पूछा, "आज नया लड़का कौन आया है क्लास में?"

 

कुछ देर पहले हुई घटना से वह अभी भी डरा हुआ था.  डरते-डरते उसने अपना हाथ उठाया था.  मास्टर जी ने अपने मोटे चश्मे को नाक के ऊपर चढ़ाया और उसकी ओर दो क्षण ध्यान से देखा, मानों उसका परीक्षण कर रहे हों. फिर बोले, "गणित में पक्के हो?"

 

उसे समझ में नहीं आया कि क्या उत्तर दे.  मास्टर जी ने एकाएक उस पर सवालों की बौछार कर दी थी, "खड़े हो जाओ और जल्दी-जल्दी बताओ, सत्तानवे और तिरासी कितना हुआ?” 

उसने एक क्षण सोचा और बोला, "एक सौ अस्सी."

"सोलह सत्ते कितना?"

"एक सौ बारह," उसने तुरंत जवाब दिया.  

"तेरह का पहाड़ा बोलो," टीचर ने आगे कहा. 

"तेरह एकम तेरह, तरह दूनी छब्बीस, तेरह तिया उन्तालीस  .. .. .. तेरह नम एक सौ सत्रह, तेरह धाम एक सौ तीस," वह एक ही सांस में तेरह का पहाड़ा पढ़ गया. 

"उन्नीस का पहाड़ा आता है?"

"जी आता है.  सुनाऊँ क्या?" उसका आत्म-विश्वास अब बढ़ रहा था. 

"नहीं रहनो दो," टीचर जी की आवाज़ अब कुछ नरम हो गयी थी. 

"तुम्हे पहाड़े किसने सिखाये?"

"माँ ने घर पर ही सिखाये हैं," उसने दबे स्वर में उत्तर दिया था. 

"माँ नें? माँ कितनी पढ़ी हुयी है?" उनकी आवाज़ में अविश्वास था. 

"नहीं गुरूजी.  माँ पढ़ी-लिखी नहीं हैं.  उन्होंने तो मुझे सिखाने के लिए मेरे बड़े भाई से पहाड़े सीखे थे. "

"हम्म्म्म.  बैठ जाओ," अध्यापक की आवाज़ में उसे कुछ प्रशंसा की अनुभूति हुई थी और वह बैठ गया. लगा तनाव अब कुछ कम हो गया था.  

मास्टरजी क्लास टीचर होने के अतिरिक्त बच्चों को गणित भी पढ़ाते थे.  वह बहुत लायक अध्यापक थे, बहुत मेहनत से छात्रों को पढ़ाते थे और उनसे ऊंची अपेक्षा भी रखते थे. अपेक्षाएं पूर्ण न होने पर उनका पारा चढ़ जाता था और गुस्सा उतरता था बच्चों की हथेलियों पर, उनकी छड़ी की लगातार मार से. और इस छड़ी की मार से सभी बच्चे बहुत डरते थे. उनका मकसद तो बस इतना था कि उनका कोई छात्र गणित में कमज़ोर न रह जाए.

ऐसे ही धीरे-धीरे एक महीना निकल गया. उन तीन शैतानों की तिगड़ी उसे परेशान करने का और मज़ाक़ बनाने का कोई मौक़ा नहीं छोड़ती थी.  कभी उसके बालों का मज़ाक तो कभी उसके कपड़ों का.  असहाय सा होकर वह सब अन्याय सहता था; इसके अलावा उसके पास और कोई चारा भी तो नहीं था. वह तीन थे, शारीरिक रूप से बलशाली थे और शहर के प्रभावशाली परिवारों से थे. वह तीनों तो स्कूल भी रोज़ कार से आते थे और उनका ड्राइवर उनका बस्ता और खाने का डिब्बा क्लास तक छोड़ कर जाता था. इन बातों को सभी बच्चे देखते थे और कुछ शिक्षक भी उन्हें हतप्रभ होकर देखा करते थे. उनकी तुलना में, वह तो एक दरिद्र परिवार से था जिसे स्कूल की फीस देना भी कठिन लगता था, अपनी साइकिल चला कर दस किलोमीटर दूर से आता था.  खाने के डिब्बे में तो बस दो नमकीन रोटी और अचार होता था. 

यूँ ही दिन निकलते गए और तिमाही परीक्षा का समय आ गया था.  तिमाही परीक्षा के नम्बर बहुत महत्वपूर्ण थे क्योंकि उसके २५% नम्बर वार्षिक परीक्षा फल में जुड़ते थे. इसीलिये सभी छात्रों से यह अपेक्षा होती थी कि वे इन परीक्षाओं को गम्भीरतापूर्वक लें. 

परीक्षा के लगभग एक सप्ताह बाद जब  मास्टरजी हाथ में पैंतीस कापियां  लिए घुसे, वातावरण में सन्नाटा सा छा  गया था.  मास्टरजी ने कापियां धम्म से मेज़ पर पटकीं, अपनी छड़ी ब्लैक बोर्ड पर टिकाई और हुंकार भरी, "मुरकी वाले!"

"जी मास्टरजी," वह डर के मारे स्प्रिंग लगे बबुए की तरह उछल कर खड़ा हो गया था. 

"यह तुम्हारी कॉपी है?"

"जी मास्टर जी," उसकी ज़बान डर से लड़खड़ा गयी  थी. 

"इधर आओ, " मास्टरजी की रोबदार आवाज़ कमरे में गूंजी तो उसके हाथ-पाँव ठन्डे होने लगे और वह धीरे-धीरे मास्टरजी की मेज़ की तरफ बढ़ा. 

"अरे जल्दी चल.  माँ ने खाना नहीं दिया क्या आज?"

वह तेज़ी से भाग कर मास्टर जी की मेज़ के पास पहुँच गया.  मन ही मन वह स्वयं को मास्टरजी की बेंत खाने के लिए भी तैयार कर रहा था.      

मास्टरजी ने उसे दोनों कंधों से पकड़ा और क्लास की तरफ घुमा दिया.  उसके कन्धों पर हाथ रखे-रखे मास्टर जी बोले, "यह लड़का छोटा सा लगता है.  रोज़ साइकिल चला कर गांव से आता है पर पूरी क्लास में बस एक यही है जिसके सौ में से सौ नम्बर आये हैं. शाबाश, मेरे बच्चे, तुमने मेरा दिल खुश कर दिया," कहते हुए मास्टरजी ने उसकी पीठ थपथपाई तो उसे चैन की सांस आयी थी.   

अब मास्टर जी ने आख़िरी बेंच की ओर घूर कर देखा और आवाज़ लगाई, "ओये मोटे, ओ मंद बुद्धि, अरे ओ अकल के दुश्मन! तीनों इधर आगे आओ. तुम तीनो तो मेरी क्लास के लिए काले धब्बे हो.  तीनों को अंडा मिला है." 

अब जो हुआ, वह तो उसने कभी सपने में भी नहीं सोचा था.  मास्टरजी ने उसे अपनी छड़ी पकड़ाई और कहा, "तीनो के हाथों पर दस-दस बार मारो.  तभी इनको अकल आएगी. "

वह अकबका कर खड़ा रह गया.  उसे समझ ही नहीं आ रहा था कि क्या करे.  एक लड़के ने फुसफ़ुसा कर कहा, "धीरे से...नहीं तो .."

उसने धीरे से उसकी हथेली पर छड़ी मारी तो मास्टर जी की ऊंची आवाज़ कान में पडी, "ज़ोर से मारो, नहीं तो डबल छड़ियाँ तुम्हारे हाथों पर पड़ेंगीं."

यह सुन कर तो उसकी हवा सरक गयी और अगले पांच मिनट तक छड़ियों की आवाज़ कमरे में गूंजती रही.  सटाक ... सटाक ... सटाक!!!

और इस तरह से छोटे से गांव का वह छोटा सा लड़का अपनी क्लास का बेताज का बादशाह बन गया था. आने वाले चार सालों में उसका सिक्का चलता रहा था.  उसे समझ आ गया था कि पढ़ाई में सबसे ऊपर रह कर ही वह अपने आत्म-सम्मान की रक्षा कर सकता था. 

***

अचानक हॉस्टल की बिजली चली गयी और  गर्मी का एहसास उसे अतीत से वर्तमान में खींच लाया. उठ कर वह कमरे के बाहर आ गया और बरामदे की दीवार पर बैठ गया.  जून का महीना था, सुबह के ग्यारह  बज चुके थे और हवा गरम थी.  पूरा हॉस्टल खाली पड़ा था; तकरीबन सभी छात्र गर्मियों की छुट्टी में घर चले गए थे पर वह वहीं रुक गया था. घर जाकर क्या करता; यहाँ रह कर पुस्तकालय से किताबें लेकर वह आने वाली प्रतियोगात्मक परीक्षाओं की तैयारी कर सकता था.  आज सोमवार था और लाइब्रेरी बंद थी.  अतः वह कमरे में ही बैठा था.  

बरामदे की दीवार पर बैठा वह नीले आकाश की ओर देख रहा था जहाँ कुछ पक्षी ऊंची उड़ान भर रहे थे.  क्या वह भी कभी ऐसी उड़ान भर पायेगा? सोचते-सोचते ध्यान फिर से अतीत की गलियों में भटक गया. 

***

चार साल पहले, देहरादून में माता वाले बाग़ के पास वह एक छोटा सा कमरा जहाँ वह और उसके बड़े भाई रहते थे.  रात का समय था.    कमरे में बान की दो चारपाइयाँ पड़ीं थीं.  उनके बीच एक लकड़ी का फट्टा रखा था और उस फट्टे पर मिट्टी के तेल वाली एक लालटेन रखी थी जिस से दोनों को रोशनी मिल रही थी.  वह इंटरमीडिएट परीक्षा की तैयारी कर रहा था और बड़े भैया एम. ए. की.  दोनों भाई अपनी-अपनी चारपाई पर पालथी मार कर बैठे हुए थे, किताब गोद में थी और परीक्षा की तैयारी चल रही थी.  कमरे में सन्नाटा था, बस कभी-कभी पन्ना पलटने की आवाज़ आती थी.

लालटेन की लौ अचानक भभकने लगी. 

"चलो अब सो जाते हैं.  लगता है लालटेन में तेल ख़तम हो रहा है," बड़े भैया ने चुप्पी तोड़ी थी. 

"पर मेरी पढ़ाई तो पूरी नहीं हुई है," उसने दबा हुआ सा विरोध किया था. 

"समझा करो न. घर में और तेल नहीं है.  अगर कल ट्यूशन के पैसे मिल गए तो मैं तेल ले आऊंगा.  अब किताबें रख दो और सो जाओ.  मैं भी सो रहा हूँ.  और कोई तरीका नहीं है," कहते हुए बड़े भैय्या ने किताबें ज़मीन पर रखी और करवट बदल कर लेट गए.

लालटेन की लौ एक बार ज़ोर से भड़की और लालटेन बुझ गयी. कोठरी में पूरी तरह अंधकार छा गया था.

उसने अँधेरे में ही किताबें उठायीं और दबे पाँव कमरे के बाहर निकल गया था.    

बाहर सड़क किनारे, बिजली के खम्बे के नीचे पड़े, पेड़ के एक तने पर ही बैठ कर उसकी बाकी की पढ़ाई शुरू हो गयी थी और तब तक चलती रही जब तक अगले  दिन की परीक्षा की तैयारी पूरी नहीं हो गयी. 

कुछ दिन बाद जब इंटरमीडिएट परीक्षा का नतीजा निकला तो उसे खुद भी विश्वास नहीं हुआ कि उसने पूरे उत्तर प्रदेश राज्य में प्रथम स्थान प्राप्त किया था. 

रिजल्ट देख कर बड़े भैया भी खुश हुए और बोले, "तुम्हारे नंबर अच्छे आयें हैं, अब तुम्हे कहीं न कहीं क्लर्क की नौकरी तो मिल ही जाएगी. चलो मैं कल ही कहीं बात करता हूँ."  

उसने तुरंत कहा था,"नहीं, नहीं मुझे नौकरी नहीं करनी है: मुझे आगे पढ़ाई करनी है और माँ के सपने को साकार करना है.  वह चाहती है कि मैं खूब पढ़ाई करके एक बड़ा अफसर बनूँ."

बड़े भैय्या ने कुछ अनमने से होकर कहा था,"अब मैं तुम्हारा खर्चा और नहीं उठा सकता हूँ.  समय आ गया है कि अब तुम खुद कुछ कमाना शुरू करो." 

सुनकर उसे अच्छा नहीं लगा था पर इतने अच्छे नंबर और बोर्ड में पहला स्थान आने से उसका आत्मविश्वास बढ़ गया था, "पर भैय्या, मैंने बोर्ड में टॉप किया है.  मुझे लगता है कोई न कोई कॉलेज तो मेरी फीस माफ़ कर ही देगा. आप मुझे बस पचास रुपये दे दीजिये."

"अच्छा ठीक है.  जब मुझे ट्यूशन के पैसे मिलेंगे, मैं तुम्हे दे दूंगा," भाई की ये बात सुनकर उसका दिल बल्लियों उछलने लगा था. 

अगले महीने की पहली तारीख को बड़े भैय्या ने उसके हाथ में पचास रुपये रख दिए और उसने उसी रात कानपुर  की ट्रेन पकड़ ली थी.  उसने कानपुर के डी.ए वी. कॉलेज के प्रधानाचार्य  श्री कालका प्रसाद भटनागर के विषय में बहुत सकारात्मक बातें सुनीं थीं. बस अपनी किस्मत आजमाने वह कानपुर  चला आया था. गर्मी की छुट्टियां चालू हो गयीं थीं पर प्रिंसिपल साहब अपने दफ्तर में विराजमान थे.  उसकी हाई स्कूल और इंटरमीडिएट की मार्क-शीट देखी  तो बोले, "तुम्हे कहीं जाने की ज़रुरत नहीं है.  तुम्हारा एडमिशन बस यहां हो गया है. तुम्हारी फीस माफ़ और हॉस्टल का खर्चा भी.  हमारे कॉलेज को तुम्हारे जैसे बच्चों की ज़रुरत है.  मुझे पूरा विश्वास है कि तुम हमारे कॉलेज का नाम रोशन करोगे."

प्रिंसिपल साहब के कमरे से निकला तो उसका दिल प्रसन्नता से फूला न समा रहा था. अपना टीन का बक्सा उठाये वह हॉस्टल पहुँच गया और अपने पिछले चार साल उसने इसी कमरे में बिताये थे.  बी.ए, की परीक्षा में फर्स्ट डिवीज़न आयी तो उसकी एम.ए. की फीस भी माफ़ हो गयी थी.  और आज एम. ए. का रिजल्ट भी आने वाला था.  

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"अरे ओ भैय्या.  हियाँ बईठ के का दिन में ही सपनवा देख रहे हो? चलो चलो, जल्दी चलो. प्रिंसिपल साहब अपने दफ्तर में बुलाएं हैं तुमका," दफ्तर का चपरासी उसे बुलाने आया था. 

वह तत्काल उठा और भाग कर कमरे में जाकर कमीज पहन कर आ गया.  उसका दिल तेज़ी से धड़क रहा था.  प्रिंसिपल साहब ने उसे क्यों बुलाया है? शायद रिजल्ट आ गया होगा.  अगर रिजल्ट अच्छा न हुआ तो? अगर फर्स्ट डिवीज़न ना आयी तो क्या होगा? क्या उसे हॉस्टल खाली करना पड़ेगा? परीक्षा देते हुए उसकी तबियत इतनी खराब थी."

दफ्तर के पास पहुंच कर उसने देखा कि उसका सबसे बड़ा प्रतिद्वंदी विद्या चरण भी वहां पहुंचा हुआ था. उसे भी दफ्तर में बुलाया गया था.  दोनों की आँखें मिलीं तो लगा कि वह एक दूसरे को नापने की कोशिश कर रहे थे. चपरासी ने दोनों को अंदर आने का इशारा किया. 

प्रिंसिपल साहब बहुत गंभीर स्वभाव के व्यक्ति थे.  उन्होंने अपना चश्मा एडजस्ट किया और दोनों को देखा.  उनके स्वभाव के प्रतिकूल आज उनके चेहरे पर मंद मुस्कराहट थी, "तुम लोगों का  रिजल्ट आ गया  है.  तुमने हमारे कॉलेज का सिर गर्व से ऊंचा कर दिया है. मैंने सोचा कि तुम्हे खुद ही बता दूँ.”

ऐसा कहते हुए वह अपनी मेज़ से उठ कर आगे आए और विद्या चरण से हाथ मिलाते हुए बोले, "मुबारक़ हो, विद्या! तुमने कॉलेज में टॉप किया है."

विद्या चरण का चेहरा खुशी से चमक उठा और वह तुरंत प्रिंसिपल साहब के पैर छूने को झुक गया. साथ ही वह तिरछी नज़र से उसे भी देख रहा था मानो कह रहा हो, "ले बेटा, बड़ा चौड़ा हो रहा था कि फर्स्ट तो मैं ही आऊंगा. पता लग गयी अपनी औकात." 

उसका फर्स्ट आने का सपना चकनाचूर हो गया था पर आँखें झुकाये वह वहां खड़ा रहा था: किसी तरह आँसूँ छिपाने की कोशिश कर रहा था. उसका प्रतिद्वंदी आखिरकार उस से जीत गया था.   

वह वहां खड़ा हुआ अपने पैर के अंगूठे को देखे जा रहा था और उसने ध्यान भी नहीं दिया कि कब  प्रिंसिपल साहब उसके पास आकर खड़े हो गए और उसे अपने गले लगा लिया. 
"और तुम तो मेरे चमत्कारी बच्चे हो. तुमने हम सब की छाती चौड़ी कर दी है.  तुमने यूनिवर्सिटी में टॉप किया है.  पहली बार हमारे कॉलेज से किसी ने यूनिवर्सिटी में टॉप किया है. जल्दी ही अपना गोल्ड मैडल लेने के लिए तैयार हो जाओ."

यह सुन कर वह सकते में आ गया. उसे अपने कानों पर विश्वास ही नहीं हो रहा था. आँखों में आये दुःख के आँसूं अब खुशी के आंसुओं में बदल गए थे. 

प्रिंसिपल साहब ने बात आगे बढ़ायी, "हमारे कॉलेज में एक लेक्चरर  की जगह  खाली है.  मैं चाहता हूँ कि तुम यहां ज्वाइन कर लो.   मुझे पता है तुम प्रशासनिक सेवाओं में जाना चाहते हो पर तुम्हारी उम्र अभी कम है.  अगले साल तक यहीं पढ़ाओ और अपनी तैयारी भी करो.  कॉलेज का भी फायदा और तुम्हारा भी.  क्या ख्याल है?"

"जैसी आपकी आज्ञा, सर," कहते हुए उसने हाथ जोड़ कर सर झुका दिया और उसके हाथ स्वतः ही प्रिंसिपल साहब के पैरों की ओर बढ़ गए. 

प्रिंसिपल साहब के दफ्तर से जब वह बाहर निकला, उसकी दुनिया पूरी तरह बदल चुकी थी.  कड़ी मेहनत, दृढ निश्चय और कुछ कर दिखाने की इच्छा और उन सब के पीछे थी उसकी माँ की अपेक्षाएं जिन की शक्ति ने आज उसे एक सफल जीवन की चौखट पर ला कर खड़ा कर दिया था. 

 

(दिल्ली प्रेस की पत्रिका सलिल सरस २०२१ में प्रकाशित)