Chapter 1
Khamosh Shehar
“Kuch log toot kar bikhar jaate hain... aur kuch log toot kar khamosh ho jaate hain.”
Lucknow.
July ka mahina tha. Baarish abhi kuch hi der pehle ruki thi. Geeli sadkon par street lights ka noor aise bikhar raha tha jaise kisi ne shehar par sunehri chaadar bichha di ho. Hawa mein mitti ki khushboo ghuli hui thi, aur har guzarti gaadi paani ke chhote-chhote chhidkon ko hawa mein uda rahi thi.
Hazratganj hamesha ki tarah roshan tha.
Kahin kisi café ke bahar college ke students zor-zor se hans rahe the. Kisi restaurant ke bahar ek couple umbrella share karte hue khada tha. Ek chhota sa bachcha baarish ke paani mein chhap-chhap kar raha tha aur uski maa use baar-baar pakad kar side mein la rahi thi.
Zindagi har taraf chal rahi thi.
Sirf ek insaan tha...
Jo us zindagi ka hissa hote hue bhi usse alag lag raha tha.
Aarav Singh.
Usne apni black bike ek purani chai ki tapri ke paas roki. Engine band hua toh aas-paas ki awaazein aur saaf sunai dene lagi—chai ke cup takrane ki khanak, radio par bajta purana gaana aur baarish ke baad pedon se tapakti boonden.
“Ek cutting.”
Chai wale ne muskura kar sir hilaya.
“Bahut din baad dikhe beta.”
Aarav ne bhi muskurane ki koshish ki.
“Haan... kaam mein busy tha.”
Ye uska favourite jhooth tha.
Busy koi nahi hota.
Bas kuch log baat karna chhod dete hain.
Chai uske haath mein aayi. Usne pehla ghoont liya. Garam chai ne kuch pal ke liye badan ko rahat di...
Par dil tak uski garmi nahi pahunchi.
Uski nazar saamne baithe ek buzurg couple par padi.
Dono ek hi kulhad se chai pee rahe the.
Buzurg aadmi ne apni patni ke kandhe par shawl theek ki.
Aur dono bina kuch kahe muskura diye.
Aarav ne nazar hata li.
Kabhi-kabhi kisi aur ki khushi...
Apni tanhaai ka sabse bada saboot ban jaati hai.
Phone vibrate hua.
Maa Calling...
Usne screen ko kuch second dekha.
Call receive ki.
“Haan Maa.”
“Kahan ho beta?”
“Bas... aa raha hoon.”
“Khana thanda ho raha hai.”
“Das minute.”
Usne call kaat di.
Das minute...
Ye lafz usne kitni baar bola tha, usse yaad bhi nahi tha.
Das minute baad.
Kal.
Agli baar.
Kabhi.
Insaan aksar un logon ko intezaar karwata hai...
Jinhe uski sabse zyada fikr hoti hai.
Usne chai khatam ki aur paise counter par rakh diye.
Bike start karne hi wala tha ki ek chhoti si awaaz sunai di.
“Bhaiya...”
Usne palat kar dekha.
Lagbhag saat saal ka ek bachcha tha.
Haath mein phoolon ka chhota sa gajra.
“Kharid lo na...”
Aarav kuch pal usse dekhta raha.
“Tum school nahi jaate?”
Bachcha hans diya.
“Subah jaata hoon... shaam ko mummy ke saath ye bechta hoon.”
“Naam kya hai?”
“Sameer.”
Aarav ne uske haath se poora gajra le liya.
“Kitne ka?”
“Bees rupaye.”
Aarav ne jeb se do sau ka note nikala aur uske haath mein rakh diya.
Sameer ki aankhen badi ho gayin.
“Bhaiya... chhutte?”
“Rakh lo.”
“Lekin...”
“Apni mummy ke liye kuch accha le jaana.”
Sameer ke chehre par jo muskaan aayi...
Woh asli thi.
Bilkul waise hi...
Jaise bachpan mein Aarav ke chehre par hua karti thi.
Bike chalate waqt usne rear-view mirror mein dekha.
Sameer bhaagta hua apni maa ke paas ja raha tha.
Aur us pal...
Na jaane kitne dino baad...
Aarav ko laga ki shayad kisi ki madad karne se insaan apna dard kuch der ke liye bhool sakta hai.
Lekin bas kuch der ke liye.
Kyuki ghar pahunchte hi...
Khamoshi uska intezaar kar rahi thi.
(To be continued in Chapter 2: “Ek Anjaani Muskurahat”)
