“Mohabbat Ke Dushman” Mohabbat Zinda Hai done

Mirha subah ki pehli roshni se hi uthne wali thi—magar uski rooh ko subah se zyada ek chah se roshan rehti thi: zindagi. Uske ghar ki chhoti si chhat par, kahin ek kathal ka ped apni shaakhon se paron sa jhagmaga raha tha; hawaa halki si thehri hui thi aur galiyon se bachon ki khelne ki awaaz aati—aisa lagta jaise shehar ne uske liye aaj bhi chhoti si muskurahat chhupa rakhi ho.

Mirha ke chehre par woh nasamjhi muskurahat thi jo kisi chiz ka intezar nahi karti—bas jee leti hai. Uske kaanoon mein chhoti moti baliyan jhalak si karti, aankhon mein sapne, aur chalne ka andaaz meethi si leher tha. Ghar ke andar jaake uski ammi chai banati, aur uske mamu—Rizwan chacha—sabse pehle networking jokes aur adab se mujhe pata hai walon ki baatein share karte. Mamu ka woh hansna, Mirha ke liye ek hamesha milne wala tyohaar tha.

Rizwan chacha Mirha ke liye sirf chacha nahi the; wo uski guardian angel the jo har buri ghadi mein uske liye khade rahe. Mirha jab choti thi to mamu uske sath cricket khelte, usko school tak chhodte, uski choti choti jeet pe itna khush hote ke poora ghar badal jata. Aaj bhi jab Mirha ka dil thoda sa bojh mehsoos karta, uski pehli manzil mamu ka ghar hota—unke aangan ki diwaron mein usne apni kahaniyon ka kayi safha likha tha.

Mirha ke zindagi mein khushiyan aise the ke unka asar dikhayi deta: uske chhote se workshop mein design ke sapne, uski behen ki shikayat par hassi, mamu ke liye chhotti chhotti nachaniya—ye sab uski mohabbat ko mazboot banate. Woh sapne dekhti thi—ek aisa ghar jahan har subah chai ke sath sachai aur rang hon.

Ek dinn, bazaar se lautate hue Mirha ne dekha ke uske mamu kisi purkhayi admii se tezi se baat kar rahe the. Unki baton mein itni shiddat thi ke Mirha ka dil thoda sa ghabra utha. Rizwan chacha ne jab Mirha ko dekha to unke chehre par pehle walay muskurahat ki jagah ek gehrayi si paishani aa gayi. “Mirha, beta, tum bhi aa jao,” unhone chupke se kaha—aur Mirha ki aankhon ne mehsoos kar liya ke aaj ki shaam aam nahi hogi.

Shaam hone se pehle unke neighbourhood mein kuch logon ki daurate hue gaadiyan dekhi gayi, aur shehar ki hawa mein kuch badla hone ka andesha. Mirha ne socha ke shayad yeh sirf uski fikr hai. Magar ghar wapas aane tak kuch log chiragh jalaye nazar aaye—aur unhi mein se ek chehra tha jo Mirha ne pehle kabhi theek se dekha hi nahi: Faheem.

Usko pehli nazar mein kuch khaas nahi laga — jawan, lambai, aur ankhon mein ek thandi chamak. Log usko “us dushman ka beta” kehte the—woh shabd sunte hi Mirha ke dil mein ek purana dard jag jata, kyunki us dushman ka zikr uski family ki kahaniyon mein kabhi akhri nahi hota. Lekin Faheem us lamhe mein sirf khamosh tha, ek chhota sa shade of curiosity uske chehre par tha—jaise koi cheez usko anjaani si kheenche rahi ho.

Rizwan chacha ne jab Faheem ke bare mein baat shuru ki to Mirha ne mehsoos kiya ke baat sirf dushmani se aage badh rahi hai. “Woh tumhare dada ke zamane se hamare khilaf chal rahe hain,” chacha ne dheere se kaha. “Kuch rishton ki gehraiyan sirf khamoshi mein hi chamakti hain, Mirha.” Mirha ne sirf sir hilaya; uski aankhon mein sawal the par zubaan chup thi.

Woh raat, Mirha ne dinner ke dauran apne mamu ke gale lag ke kaha, “Mamu, darna mat. Aap ho na.” Rizwan chacha ne uska haath mazbooti se pakda aur aankhon mein aansu chhupa kar muskuraya. “Beta, zindagi kabhi seedhi lakeer nahi hoti. Kabhi tumhe dhundna padta hai, kabhi lipatna padta hai. Bas.” Unki awaaz mein thakan thi—ek admi ki jo apni puri zindagi me apne parivaar ke liye lad chuka ho.

Do din baad, Mirha apne workshop se laut rahi thi jab usne dekha ke ghar ke bahar kuch halla-gulla ho raha tha. Log idhar-udhar khade the, mobile screenon par kuch dekh rahe the. Mirha ka dil dhadak utha—usne tezi se pair badhaye. Ghar ke andar kadam rakhte hi usne dekha: ammi zameen par thi, behan aankhon se hale-hale rote hue, aur Rizwan chacha apne hi khoon se ladte.

Waqt us lamhe ke liye ruk sa gaya. Mirha ke chehre par ek saari duniya chalti rahi—uski saans tez, par uski aankhon ke aage sab dhundhla. Koi chilla raha tha, koi phone kar raha tha, par Mirha ek hi cheez pe tik gayi: uska mamu. Usne apne chehre pe haath rakhe, aur phir—usne dekha ek shadow, ek short-chested aadmi jo bheed me se nikal kar chala gaya—uske kapdon par ek nishan, aur uske nazdeek se guzarne wale kisi ki aankhon mein wahi thandi chamak jo Faheem ki aankhon mein Mirha ne pehle dekhi thi.

Mirha ka dil toot gaya par uski awaz ekdum theek thi: “Kisne kiya?” Uski behan cheekhi—“Police bulao!” Mirha ne apni himmat jata ke Rizwan chacha ki taraf jhuki. Mamu ne ek faasla kehte hue uska haath pakda—magar unke honton se nikla hua har lafz Mirha ke liye ek alam tha: “Mirha… bachao… sab theek ho jayega.”

Woh raat Mirha ke liye sabse lambi raat ban gayi—ghar ki deewarein ab pehle jaisa na rahe. Dushman ki parchayi unki khushiyon par padegi—ye baat Mirha ke zehan mein ghatak sa samayi rahi. Aur jab usne uss aadmi ka chehra dobara blink kar ke dekha, uski rooh ke andar ek ajeeb si aag jal uthi—ek aag jo safai bhi mangti thi aur saza bhi.

Mirha ne us waqt apne aap se vada kiya: agar duniya use tod degi, to woh us duniya ko dobara banana bhi jaane gi. Us vade ke sath, uski zindagi ne ek naya safha khola—aur iss safhe ki kitaab ka pehla panna us raat ke baad se hamesha ke liye badal gaya.