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Indian Classics

🎬 Title: “Flat mein silence hota hai… Ghar mein Mumma.”

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(Tonight 8 PM – Evening Sip with Richa ☕ | Ek baat un sab ke liye jo ghar se door hain)

[Scene: Delhi. Wintery evening. Office almost empty. Richa is shutting her laptop, wrapping up for the day. Kabir (her teammate) walks in with his bag half open, still sipping chai from a paper cup.]

Kabir (smirking):
“Oye Richa di… ghar jaa rahi ho?”

Richa (shrugs lightly, without looking):
“Nahi yaar… flat jaa rahi hoon.
Ghar toh Bareilly mein hai… Mumma ke paas.”

Kabir (laughs, teasing):
“Haww! Flat aur ghar alag ho gaye ab?”

Richa (half smiles):
“Flat mein bas fan, bed aur fridge hai…
Ghar mein Mumma ka daant, roti, aur…
Rajma chawal ka woh extra spoon pyaar.”

Kabir (sips chai, quieter now):
“True that…
Main bhi jab se shift hua hoon Dilli,
ghar pe woh sunday wali chai nahi mili.
Mumma bina bole samajh jaati thi…
ki mujhe strong chai chahiye aur silence.”

Richa:
“Mere flat ka silence toh noisy lagta hai.
Aur Mumma…
roz 5 baar call karti hai.
Sirf poochhne ke liye — ‘kha liya?’
Main haan bolti hoon… woh bina kuch bole phone kaat deti hai.”

Kabir (nostalgically):
“Same same…
Meri maa bhi bas check karne ke liye call karti hai,
‘Beta, dinner ho gaya?’
Jaise phone nahi… ek heartbeat check ho raha ho.”

Richa (laughs slightly):
“Tujhe pata hai?
Main aur Mumma har baar Bareilly mein Urvashi wale golgappe khane jaate the…
Main samajhti thi woh meri craving poori kar rahi hai,
par aaj tak nahi pata chala ki Mumma ka favorite kya tha.”

Kabir (stares out the glass window):
“Meri Mumma toh bas wahi banati hai jo main bolta hoon…
Apni pasand batati hi nahi.
Bas mera favorite banake khush ho jaati hai.”

Richa (softly):
“Woh Mumma hi hoti hai…
apni pasand ko tum mein daal ke jeeti hai.”

Kabir (nods, with a smile):
“Tu lucky hai… Bareilly se hai.
Mere toh ghar waale Meerut mein hain…
Par Mumma ka pyaar toh pin code nahi dekhta.”

Richa (eyes soft):
“Bas dar lagta hai…
kahin time haath se na nikal jaaye.
Mumma hamesha kehti hai —
‘Office ki tension maar goli… ghar aa ja…
Chali jaaungi ek din bina bole… tu dekhna.’”

(Both silent for a moment. Lift arrives. They step in slowly.)

Kabir (looks at phone):
“Phone charge pe lag gaya…
par tu bhi lag jaa kabhi call pe…
Kabhi sirf ‘Mumma’ bolne ke liye.”

Richa (half-smile, but heavy-hearted):
“Flat toh aaj bhi wapas jaaungi…
par ghar?
Woh toh Bareilly mein reh gaya hai…”

[Text fades in as lift closes:]
Tonight, 8 PM — Evening Sip with Richa ☕
Ek kahaani un Mummaon ke liye…
Jo khud kuch nahi kehti, bas sab kuch de deti hain.

Indian Classics

🎬 Title: “Flat wapas jaa rahi hoon… Ghar nahi.”

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(Tonight 8 PM — Evening Sip with Richa ☕ Hinglish | A tribute to every Mumma ❤️)

[Scene: Delhi. Corporate office. Late evening. You’re quietly shutting down your system. Sounds of chairs moving, few murmurs. A colleague (junior male) walks over with his coffee mug.]

Colleague (lightly):
“Richa di, ghar jaa rahi ho?”

You (still focused on shutting your laptop):
“Nahi yaar… flat jaa rahi hoon.
Ghar toh Bareilly mein hai… Mumma ke paas.”

Colleague (smiling, playful):
“Flat aur ghar… same hi toh hai?”

You (pausing, softly):
“Flat mein AC hai, fridge hai, silence hai.
Ghar mein daant hai, roti hai…
aur Mumma ka pyaar — bina shabdon ke.”

Colleague (a little quiet now):
“Yeah…
Main jab hostel gaya tha na…
Mumma roz tiffin mein chhoti chitthi rakh deti thi —
‘Thoda dhyan rakhna, zyada so mat, zyada bhool mat.’”

You (smiling, nostalgic):
“Aww…
Meri Mumma bhi roz 5 baar call karti hai —
‘Khaana kha liya?’
Aur bina kuch sune, phone rakh deti hai.”

Colleague (with a small laugh):
“Unhe farak padta hai bas… bolne ki zarurat nahi padti.”

You:
“Exactly.
Aur pata hai…
Main aur Mumma jaate the Urvashi wale golgappe wale ke paas.
Main samajhti thi woh mujhe khila rahi hai…
par aaj tak nahi pata chala, unka favorite kya tha.”

Colleague (nodding, with feeling):
“Meri Mumma bas rajma chawal banati rehti thi mere liye…
kabhi nahi bola ki unka kya favorite hai.”
(small pause)
“Apna sab kuch toh hummein daal diya unhone.”

You:
“Tu samajh gaya…” (with a warm look)
“Yeh sab kehne ki zarurat nahi hoti, par jab koi samajhta hai na… halka lagta hai dil.”

Colleague (genuinely):
“Haan…
Tumne bola na — jab tak flat nahi pahuchti,
Mumma sooti nahi?
Meri Mumma bhi same hai…
Main der se call karta hoon toh keh deti hai — ‘Ab aaya na yaad?’”

You (smiling faintly):
“Pyaar ke style alag hote hain… concern wahi hota hai.”

Colleague:
“True that.
Tu Delhi sambhaal leti hai…
main Mumbai.
Par Mumma dono ki raaton ki neend same chura leti hai.”

You (light chuckle):
“Mujhe Mumma har baar kehti hai —
‘Office ki tension maar goli… ghar aa ja.
Chali jaaungi ek din bina bole… tu dekhna.’”

(Lift dings. They walk slowly toward it. Comfortable silence follows. Emotional heaviness without drama.)

Colleague (gently):
“Phone charge pe laga dena…
kyunki Mumma ki awaaz bina,
dono ka dil low rehta hai.”

You (softly, as you step in):
“Flat Dilli mein hai…
Par ghar?
Ab bhi Bareilly mein hi hai.”

[Fade out. Text appears:]
“Tonight at 8 PM | Evening Sip with Richa ☕
A heartfelt Hinglish story for every grown-up kid…
And for every Mumma, jinki duniya hum ho.”

Indian Classics

🎬 Phone Charge Pe Hai, Par Dil Low Hai

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(Scene: Delhi office, shift wrapping up. You’re slowly packing your bag. A junior colleague comes by, sipping chai.)

Colleague (teasing):
“Richa di, ghar jaa rahi ho aaj?”

You (smiling faintly, still organizing stuff):
“Nahi yaar… flat jaa rahi hoon.
Ghar toh Bareilly mein hai, Mumma ke paas.”

Colleague (laughing):
“Bas wahi toh, same hi baat hai na?”

You (looking up, a bit wistful):
“Nahi yaar, flat mein fridge, AC, silence toh hai,
par Mumma ki daant, roti, aur pyaar nahi hai.”

(They start walking slowly together.)

You:
“Roz jab office se nikalti hoon, toh Mumma ka phone aata hai,
‘Khaana kha liya?’
Main kehti hoon ‘haan’, aur woh bina kuch bole phone rakh deti hai.
Aisa lagta hai jaise check kar rahi ho, meri beti zinda hai ya nahi.”

Colleague:
“Roz itni baar call karti hai?”

You (chuckling):
“Haan, 5-6 baar. Kabhi lunch ke liye, kabhi bas yunhi.
Aur end mein woh line nahi bhoolti:
‘Chhod office ki tension maar goli, ghar aa ja.
Chali jaaungi ek din bina bole, tu dekhna.’”

(You pause, smile with a little ache.)

You:
“Main aur Mumma Urvashi golgappe wale pe golgappe khane jaate the…
Par pata bhi nahi chala Mumma ka asli favorite khana kya hai.
Bas mera favorite, rajma chawal, woh banati rehti hai,
apna kuch batati hi nahi.”

(A soft sigh.)

You:
“Woh chhoti-chhoti baatein, woh apne-apne pal, kahin beech mein kho gaye hain.
Waqt aise nikalta jaa raha hai, aur main bas un yaadon ko dil mein thoda sa sambhaal ke rakhti hoon.”

Colleague (softly):
“Phir bhi tu Dilli mein sab sambhal leti hai na?”

You (smiling softly):
“Sambhal toh leti hoon, par sab kuch toh yahaan nahi hai—
job hai, freedom hai, salary hai,
par ghar nahi hai.”

(Lift dings. Door opens. You step inside slowly.)

You (quietly, almost to yourself):
“Phone charge pe hai, par dil low hai.”

  • Richa ❤
Non Fiction

Manikarnika Ghat – Banaras / Kashi (Shiv Shakti ki)

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Manikarnika Ghat is the main cremation place in Varanasi. Hindu mythology promises that burnt here gives liberation from the cycle of births and rebirths. Every day, from morning until late at night a number of corpses are cremated at the same time. – Photo Taken from iStock!

“Raand, Saand, Seedhi, Sanyasi, inse bacche to sevai Kashi.”

Widows, bulls, stairs, saints, save us from them so that we can reach Kashi.

“Samay aaega mahashamsaan jaane ka, jahan 24 ghante chitain jalti rehti hain, iss ghaat ke baare mein yeh kaha jata hai ki Bhagwan Shiv yahaan khud aatmaon ko moksh ka raasta dikhate hain.”

The time will come when you must face the great cremation ground, where the flames burn continuously, 24 hours a day. It is said that at this ghat, Lord Shiva himself shows the souls the path to salvation.

“Manikarnika ki galiyon mein kuch ajeeb sa mehsoos hota hai, jaise kisi ne seene pe kuch bhaari sa rakh diya ho; har 5 minute mein ek naya shav ghat pe jaata hai. Jab body chita pe jalte dekhoge, toh dekhte hi reh jaaoge.”

There is something strange in the lanes of Manikarnika, as if someone has placed a heavy burden on your chest. Every 5 minutes, a new body is brought to the ghat. When you see the body burning on the pyre, you can’t help but watch, lost in the moment.

“Zindagi kya hai, yeh aapko yahin aa ke pata chalega, saare sawaalon ki parte yahaan khulenge; aapki aankhon ke saamne. Aapka dil aapko baar-baar yeh bolega ki ek din aapko yahaan aana hai.”

What is life? You will only understand here, at this very place. All the layers of your questions will unfold before your eyes. Your heart will tell you, over and over again, that one day, you too will have to come here.

⁃ Richa Mehndiratta