Season 1:- Episode 1: Bloodlines & Smoke
Featured Track: “Toh Phir Aao” (Mustafa Zahid / Awarapan)
Port Victoria ki baarish kabhi kisi cheez ko saaf nahi karti thi. Ye bas sadak ke kaale grease, sasti tambaku ki badboo aur taaza khoon ki mehak ko aapas mein ghol deti thi.
Berth number 4 ke cold-storage warehouse ke andar, teen aadmi lohe ki chainon se ulte latke hue the. Unke neeche, baraf ke pighalte blocks ka namkeen paani drains mein tapak raha tha, jahan machhliyon ke scales phase hue the.
Chhat.
Ek maachis ki teeli jali. Pili aag ne ek sukhe, scarred chehre ko roshan kiya aur phir ek mehenge cigar ki tip par thehar gayi.
Vincent ne neela-safed dhuaan hawa mein chhodte hue saans bahar phenki. Usne un cheekhte hue logon ki taraf dekha tak nahi. Wo aaram se ek bone-handled switchblade se apne nakhun saaf kar raha tha. Vincent ne charcoal color ka tailored coat pehna tha—itna saaf ki uspe keechad ka ek daag tak nahi tha, jabki uski aane wali pushtein sadiyon se isi gandagi par raaj karti aayi thi. Vincent ke khandaan ka drug corridor 100 saal se zyada purana tha. Uske liye violence koi business strategy nahi thi, uske liye ye bas saans lene jaisa tha.
“Sir... please,” ek aadmi gale mein phasi aawaz mein gidgidaaya, uska chehra soojh kar neela pad chuka tha. “Humne consignment touch nahi kiya... Hum bas transit guard the...”
Vincent ne nakhun saaf karna band kiya. Uske chamchamate leather boots concrete par ‘thuk-thuk’ aawaz karte hue aage badhe. Bina kisi gusse ya emotion ke, usne blade seedha us aadmi ke gale ke aar-paar utaar diya. Ek baar ghumaya, aur bahar kheench liya.
Garam khoon thandi zameen par bikharr gaya. Baaqi do ladke pagal ki tarah rone lage.
“Pata hai mujhe,” Vincent bilkul dheemi, thandi aawaz mein bola. “Lekin tumhare dock par Raya ka maal load hua. Mere port pe agar koi parinda bhi par maarta hai na, toh uski chhati par mera thappa hona chahiye. Aur tum salon ne Raya ke trucks ko nikalne diya.”
Vincent ne dead body ki pant se apna blade saaf kiya, peeth ghumayi aur cigar ka lamba drag liya. “Baqi dono ko samundar mein phenk do. Aur pata lagao ki Raya ka southern transport route kahan se nikal raha hai.”
10:45 PM. The Old Dockyard Garage.
Tez toofani baarish rusted tin roofs par pathron ki tarah gir rahi thi. Ek purane mechanics bay ke andar, 15 gunde machetes, lohe ke pipes aur country-made kattas pakde khade the. Unke charo taraf lakdi ke crates the jinpar spray paint se crude numbers likhe the.
Ye ek local gang ke ladke the jinhe Vincent ke syndicate ne Raya ki supply line todne ke liye supari di thi.
“Kahan reh gaya wo?” gang leader nervous hokar revolver reload karte hue bola. “Pakki khabar thi na ki delivery lene wo khud aayega?”
“Bhai, aayega,” ek chhota gunda maathe ka paseena aur baarish poonchhte hue haklaya. “Lekin log bolte hain wo akele hi ghumta hai... dimaag se paidal hai saala.”
“Chup be bsdk! 15 log hain hum. Koi bhoot thodi hai jo akele aayega.”
KRRR-KRRR-CLANK.
Bhaari rusted rolling shutter dheere-dheere upar uthne laga.
Pura garage ek dum sannate mein doob gaya. Sabhi 15 logon ke hathiyar seedhe entrance par tikk gaye.
Dhundli baarish aur truck ke kaale dhuen ke beech se ek akele aadmi ne andar kadam rakha.
Lamba black coat jo paani se poora bheega hua tha. Dono haath coat ki pockets mein ghuse hue. Hothon ke beech ek unlit cigarette dabi hui. Baal bheege hokar maathe par bikhre the, aur unke peeche se jhaankti do aankhein... jo thaki hui nahi thi, balki ek gehri, jaanleva udaasi se bhari hui thi.
Raya.
Usne unke kattas ko dekha tak nahi. Usne unke chehron par nazar tak nahi daali. Wo aese chal raha tha jaise apne hi ghar ke drawing room mein enter kar raha ho.
“Raya?” gang leader ne aage badhkar gun cock ki. “Bohot charche sune the tere. Lekin yahan akele ghus ke tune apni maut ko dawat de di. Ye shipment aur ye area, dono ab hamara hai.”
Raya usse das kadam door aakar ruk gaya. Usne pocket se ek purana silver zippo lighter nikala. Do baar flick kiya, aur apni cigarette jala li. Pili aag ki roshni mein uske chehre ki coldness aur bloodshot aankhein saaf dikhi. Ek lamba, gehra kash kheench kar usne dhuen ko apne daanton ke beech se chhod diya.
Uski aawaz gehri, bhari aur thandi thi.
“Rounds kitne hain tumhare paas?” Raya ne aaram se poocha.
Leader confuse ho gaya. “Kya bola bey?”
“Maine poocha... kitni goliyaan hain tumhari bandookon mein?” Raya ne ek kadam aage badhaya aur lighter pocket mein daal liya. “Kyunki agar 15 se kam hain... toh tum sab yahan marne wale ho.”
“Khatam karo saale ko!” leader chillaya.
Isse pehle ki wo trigger daba pata, Raya gayab ho gaya. Uski body ek calculation ki tarah move hui. Ek fraction of second mein usne leader ki kalayi pakdi aur aese modi ki haddi tootne ki ‘khatak’ aawaz aayi. Gun ka barrel ghoom kar theek barabar wale gunde ki taraf ho gaya.
DHAAYIN!
Ek gir gaya.
Raya ne haath se chhooti hui revolver hawa mein pakdi, ghoomte hue lohe ke pipe ke neeche se nikla aur aage aane wale gunde ke ghutne par aesi kick maari ki uska pair ulti taraf mud gaya. Jaise hi wo gira, Raya ne uski body ko dhaal bana kar baaqi talwar lekar aane walon par phenk diya.
Pura garage ek slaughterhouse ban gaya. Raya koi martial arts nahi dikha raha tha; uski ladayi raw, brutal aur street-style thi. Har ghunse ke sath kisi ka jabda toot raha tha, har move ke sath haddiyan bikharr rahi thi. Do ladkon ne peeche se aakar uski peeth pakad li, lekin Raya ne backward elbow maar kar ek ka gale ka hissa crush kiya aur dusre ka sar lohe ke engine block par de mara.
Ek machete ka vaar Raya ke forearm ko cheerte hue nikal gaya. Coat phat gaya aur khoon ki dhaar nikal aayi.
Lekin Raya hila tak nahi. Uske chehre par dard ka ek shikan tak nahi aaya. Cigarette abhi bhi hothon mein dabi thi. Usne dheere se gardan ghuma kar us gunde ko dekha jisne cut maara tha. Us pal mein us gunde ne Raya ki aankhon mein jo dekha, wo maut se bhi zyada darawna tha—ek aesa insaan jise apni jaan ki koi parvah hi nahi thi.
Raya ne uska collar pakda, usse zameen se upar uthaya aur ek hi jhatke mein concrete pillar par patak diya.
Chaar minute ke andar, 14 laashein aur ghayal bodies garage ke oil-stained floor par khoon mein lathpath padi thi. Sirf aakhri bachha ek ladka kona pakad ke kaanp raha tha, uske haath se pipe chhoot chuka tha aur wo ro raha tha.
Raya garage ke beech mein khada tha. Uske knuckles se khoon tapak kar baarish ke paani mein mil raha tha. Usne cigarette ka aakhri kash liya, butt ko zameen par phenka aur apne bhaari boot ke neeche crush kar diya.
Usne us rote hue ladke ki taraf dekha, apne gaal par laga kisi aur ka khoon poonchha aur gardan thodi jhukayi.
“Vincent ko bolna...” Raya ki aawaz sannate ko cheerte hue nikli.
“...Daddy is Home.”
01:30 AM. Raya’s Penthouse.
Penthouse samundar ke theek samne wali multi-storey building ke top floor par tha. Andar lights dim thi, ek heavy, warm sannata faila hua tha.
Heavy door khula.
Raya andar aaya. Usne apna khoon aur paani se bheega coat utaar kar seedha floor par phenk diya. Haath chhile hue the, shirt phati hui thi, lekin chehra bilkul pathar jaisa shaant tha. Wo bar counter par gaya, glass mein teen peg neat whiskey daali aur ek hi saans mein pee gaya.
Hallway se halki aawaz aayi. Payal ki nahi, bas nange pairon ke marble par chalne ki.
Adriana khadi thi. Simple silk robe mein, baal khule hue. Uski aankhon mein khauf se zyada ek aesa dard tha jo saalon se jamta ja raha tha. Usne ye nahi poocha ki wo kahan tha. Usne floor par gire khoon par chillaya nahi. Ye uski roz ki aadat ban chuki thi.
Wo chupchaap aage badhi, uske haath mein first-aid kit aur gungune paani ka bowl tha.
“Raya...” usne dheere se pukara, uska haath Raya ke injured baazu ki taraf gaya.
Raya ka jism ek pal ke liye stiff hua—apne aap ko door kheenchne ka purana reflex—lekin wo ruka raha. Wo leather sofa par baith gaya, window se bahar kaali baarish ko dekhte hue.
Adriana uske samne ghutno ke bal baith gayi. Usne antiseptic mein cotton duboya aur Raya ke forearm par lage cut par dheere se lagaya. Raya ne aawaz nahi nikali, bas uske jaw muscles tight ho gaye.
“Kabhi toh ruk jaya karo,” Adriana ne bilkul dheemi aawaz mein kaha, uski palkon par aansu thehre hue the. “Ek din... ek din tum wapas nahi aaoge. Aur main bas isi darwaaze ko dekhti reh jaungi.”
Raya ne uske chehre ko nahi dekha. Usne bas Adriana ke kaanpte hue haathon ko dekha jo uski marham-patti kar rahe the. Ek bhaari guilt uske seene mein utha. Wo jaanta tha ki Adriana usse bepanah pyaar karti thi—saalon pehle jab wo marne ki haalat mein road par pada tha, Adriana ne hi use bachaya tha, sambhala tha, aur badle mein kuch nahi maanga tha. Lekin Raya ke dil ka wo kona jahan pyaar rehta tha, wo kab ka shamshaan ban chuka tha.
Raya ne apna thanda haath aage badhaya aur Adriana ke kaanpte haathon par rakh diya, uski movement ko rokte hue.
“Adriana,” Raya ki aawaz thandi thi, thaki hui, lekin usme ek ajeeb sa toota hua apnapan tha. “Jo insaan kab ka mar chuka ho... uske wapas na aane ka kaisa darr?”
“Tum zinda ho, Raya,” Adriana ne apna sar uske ghutne par tika diya, uski aawaz toot gayi. “Bas khud ko dekhna nahi chahte.”
Kone mein rakhe purane stereo par dheemi aawaz mein ek gaana chal raha tha, jo baarish ki boondon ke sath milkar room ke sannate ko tod raha tha:
Dil badal bane aankhein behne lage
Aahein aise uthein jaise aandhi chalein
Toh phir aao mujhko sataao...
Toh phir aao mujhko rulaao...
Raya ne apni aankhein band kar li. Band palkon ke peeche us garage ka khoon ya Adriana ke aansu nahi the.
Wahan bas ek purani yaad thi—ek ladki, ek safed dress jispar khoon ke daag the, aur andhere mein chalti ek goli ki aawaz.
End of Episode 1
