Death of a beautiful blog

Isi gali mein maqbul hum aur yahin bdnam hue 

Isi gali me charche humare sar-i-aam hue.. 

Kbhi goya aftab hum ne salaam pae 

Kbhi saazo saman ki tarah neelaam hue 

Mat keeje yaqeen nabs-i-ehad ka 'aashie' 

jo maseehe the unke bhi mujrimon se anjaam hue 

Fareb saare acchi soortein leke aae 

Har Maya ke hazaron Gulfaam hue                          -  Maya 

It’s neither a memoir nor a requiem, rather a request for resurrection of the blog that died recently. It’s been four days since I came to know about it. And every time I think of it, I can’t help feeling sick all over again.

It came to me very suddenly. From the dashboard of my blog, your posts were peering at me, and I wanted to read once again that ode of yours which was unofficially dedicated to me, and that beautiful ballad of silence. I clicked on a recent post ‘Communist Digesto’ to display the blog; and there was an error.

“Blog has been removed.”

I am used to seeing ‘webpage cannot be displayed’, ‘DNS lookup failed’, ‘error 404’ etc, but this error message was strikingly new. It was incomprehensible. Google was ‘Sorry (that) the blog at architectthakur.blogspot.com has been removed’ and offered to help -

Did you expect to see your blog here? See: 'I can't find my blog on the web, where is it?'

With my grief reserved in the wake of false hopes, I followed the link with a click of my trembling fingers.

Custom domain settings? Search visibility settings? Policy or Terms of Service violation?

Damn you, Google! We are artists. We don’t know much of all those technicalities, and hence we think it best not to interfere with any of these settings. The blog has been there for 4 years; how could there be any such problem with the settings now!

Accidental deletion? Yes, we are a bit careless but not so careless that we search for the ‘delete’ button first and then press it by mistake. No! We know what ‘delete’ means, don’t we? With the probability to find it again somewhere ruled out, the realization slowly seeped into me. The grief began to heave its toll on my heart.

‘The Think Tank’ has dried.

Could you think of a sheet of paper with a poem written on it getting burnt? The paper turns to ashes but the poem doesn’t essentially get lost as it might have been written on some other paper or Word document. If nowhere, it might be occupying someone’s memory. And what if the poem gets removed from the memory as well? The poem still remains. It’s just that no one remembers it. I guess that’s why the furnace holes through which documents are pushed down in 1984 so as to remove the traces are termed memory holes. Even though the reality of the past doesn’t change, yet the reality gets lost because there is no remembrance. Similarly, the poem could never die out, but it gets evaporated into thin air.

And the fumes of your blog’s burnt out web pages nauseate me. Even the thought of all those colours, images, photographs, thoughts, poems and articles being quarantined, with the image of a dustbin forming in my head, is creepy. I hope that they haven’t emptied the dustbin yet, and the undelete button could relieve the burning sensation of the fingers which pressed the delete button and retrieve that kaleidoscope. I keep my fingers crossed about the alternate probability that you have it somewhere kept neatly in a folder in Your documents in Your computer. When someone as careless as me could remember to keep an offline copy, why won’t you? Even though I am almost sure that you would have, yet I can’t assume it because I know that even if you might be less careless than me, but still, you would win over me in terms of artistic erratic swings. And so, butterflies agitate my stomach to no extent. Of the other nine followers of the blog, I am acquainted with no one. There is no one to brief me about it or share this sentiment with. It’s just me and you. The loss is not yours’ but mine too.      

It’s not just this. There’s something more to this grief. Something more virtual about a physical loss. The loss of the blog where the content had been staged rends my heart all the more.

I know that technology has suffered from an inferiority complex in Gulzar’s poems where he ruefully remarks that the relations owing to falling and picking of books are a thing of the past. I know that these are the times when we have just switched from sheets of paper to word documents for convenience, which has not attached much romanticism to itself so far. I also know that even Google must have conceived blogger primarily as a medium to host one’s content to readers worldwide.

Nevertheless, the excitement in your voice over phone around 3 years ago still echoes in my ears when you had asked me to have a look at the blog which, you had claimed, would have been of the ilk of Ann Frank’s blog if she ever had one. Naturally, the now almost-extinct Internet Explorer had opened that URL for me to have a look and explore. The amazement of that first look is still in my eyes. I didn’t know by then that those templates, skins and background colours were an offered feature and one of several others to choose from. The second look gave me a peek into the depths of the mind of the mystical Maya about whom I knew so little. Since then, each and every look at those pages has been special.

It was not the notebook on whose last page I am into the habit of scribbling my vague random thoughts. It was not a personal diary which could have only two objectives – either to become impersonal by letting someone sneak into, or to get burnt to ashes. It was not the facebook status update which gets liked, commented upon and ultimately rendering itself redundant within a week. It was not Amitabh Bachchan’s blog which helps him air his opinion and connect to his millions of fans. It was not the official page of an institution which saves money by hosting an independent domain on blogger rather than the web.

It was our means of communication. We have never met each other. We have never claimed that one day, we will. We have spoken over phone 3-4 times, and that too was around 3 years ago. In times of Facebook status updates, likes and comments, Twitter tweets, Skype Voice chats, webcams and cell phones, we were still talking through the windows of our blogs. I would take a dip in the think tank, and you would occasionally stride through Utopian moors. Satire could pour out from a few external spouts that we were just intellectual friends. But the truth is that these wanderings prevented you from ever asking my state of affairs publicly on the facebook wall with a ‘How are you’ and in times of utter misery, I didn’t have to say ‘I am fine’, thus adding another voice to the billions of worthless superficial ‘How are you? I am fine, and you? Me too’s exchanged in the world every day. We never questioned the worth of each other’s existence asking what you are doing these days. Rather we knew the more important part - what we were thinking deep down through those occasional strides. We used to listen to the deafening voices in each other’s head. What’s more, we fought with each other so creatively in our stories and poems. This constant connection was what didn’t require us to start a conversation afresh when we would meet by coincidence once in a long while on yahoo messenger.     

Tum padhte raho main likhti rahungi 

fiR tum likhna aur main padhungi 

tumhari hatheliyon par ek kitaab likh dungi 

aur tum kuchh kisse likhna meri diwaaron par 

fir kuchh der hum dono chup ho jaenge  

Aur door ho jaenge 

fir ek dusre ko khat me khamoshiyan bheja krenge.. 

Tum padh paoge na ?                                                     -  Maya

Instead of being a podium with a mic, it was a quiet walk on the sea beach fronting the foaming waves, where the instinctual shouting out loud to the sea has not the primary purpose of being heard, rather to be merely let out. Purpose is, in fact, a demeaning word for that instinct. It’s an urge that makes one enter the blogging sphere and jot down intensely the anger boiling inside on seeing a tree felled down, the angst at the curb of individualism, the clouds of nostalgia at the remembrance of a mystical character of an old man with medals from our childhood, the guilt and regret at breaking a child’s promise, the disgust at the perverseness rampant in the society, the budding of romantic ideas for design of literary cafe, the tranquillity felt in the magical hues of an evening and what not. It is an urge which would make us curse the damned internet connection when it would deaden in the midst of this outpour. It was where the turmoil found a clearing space not only for venting but for analysis, expression, sharing and discussion.  It was this unleashing of the subconscious in an otherwise lonely world which preserved the senility in us.                                              

It was a canvas with a pallet of coloured templates, backgrounds, themes, blog title, taglines, editing profile, font settings, layout, blog picture and much more, which thankfully required little technical knowledge, and refurbishing the blog to render it a new look was a long joyous activity. The graphs and stats were one of the few statistics in the world which evoked from us a good enough amount of attention span.      

And the joy of creation! The satisfaction felt at the nurturing of an original idea. The sweet struggles with the paraphrasing. Notwithstanding the fact that Adsense didn’t yield us any dollar cheques, being a blogger was being something, all the more considering that our community is not well aware of the monetary implications, which were nil though, of blogging. It bridged the gap between scribbles on last page of notebooks to carefully done pieces with additional presentation through transliteration, hyperlinks and pictures. It was something that made me look at those genuine pieces over and over again. Almost every time I would enter the utopian moors, I would surf the think tank as well even if there were no new posts. And my statistics would tell me that someone had been reading the posts on Utopian moors of last year. That joy of creation inched us away from mundane existence. It was something that we created, neatly composed and preserved, which has a chance of remaining long after we end our life span.

The blog saved us the trouble of having to provide useless answers to people’s and sometimes our own futile questions about coming up with a published book, as if unpublished were all junk and published were all gem. We never cared enough. May be we should, but it just doesn’t make me feel so eager. Damn! We were getting published on the web. It was there for anyone sitting anywhere in the world to have a look.

How could you not see what all it was! Do I not remember your enthusiasm at telling me that you go through each and every post? When you commented that more and more people were reading my blog, instead of it sounding to be a motivation, it rang to my ears a rejoicing for both of us. And why not, I am not acquainted with any other prolific blogger. It’s only you and me especially in this indigenous sphere of blogging that we have carved for ourselves.  

How could you take all of it away from me just like that? What is it – an erratic retreat, a silent hibernation or a phoenix rediscovery? I am aware of creative blocks having suffered from them myself. I also have an experience of the uneasiness sprouting from people’s comments about questioning the importance of writing or anything similar unless it pays, and unknowingly it seeps inside you making you too restless to sit down and write. I know that it’s no use for anyone asking of you or me to write. We are not professionals. It’s never been a need, rather an urge or a naazil (dawning).

Well, don’t write anything; don’t post, but why delete whatever there was. There are millions of useless pages on the web – either worthless or redundant. Leave alone the web; there are millions of blogs on blogger, a sizable number of which are either extinct or dormant. Still, they remain. On the contrary, The Think Tank adorned the web. Each and every page was so eloquent. It had infused into me probably the same as yours or new sensations. The blog which inspired me partially to define my utopian moors in the form of a blog, whose posts stimulated and set my mind in turmoil, whose colourful photographs transpired into the inside of me myriad emotions, which provided for that exclusive discussion room, was deleted. And all those sensations, conflicts, emotions, feelings, stimulations, anxieties, anger, passion, all those pages are no more? Gone? Just like that?  

When Momin wrote

Tum hote ho mere paas goya

Jab koi doosra nahi hota

(When no one else is around me, it feels like you are here with me.)

Ghalib was so impressed that he offered to exchange his entire deewan-e-ghalib for this one sher. Poems and writings have been written by you, but they are not only yours’. Not even only yours and mine, rather they belong to the world. Please don’t take it away. The ‘Undelete’ button must still be working, which is yet another dimension of the romantics of a blog.

I have been checking out the URL time and again since then but to no avail. I happen to think of the famous box inside box blooper. Someone opens a box to find another box in it. Then he opens the second box to find yet another box in it. And this continues until the last box. I am not touching this last box. I am leaving it for you to open.  

गधे की बच्ची

'झूठ बोल' की बाज़ी चल रही थी. मुकेश ने दो दुग्गी डाली. रामनिवास की एक दुग्गी, एक दुग्गी रमेश की भी. ऊपर से मुकेश की तीन  और दुग्गी. पत्ते खत्म.

"झूठ बोल रहा है पक्का. चैक  कर." रमेश ने रामनिवास को उकसाया.

"ये क्यूँ करे? ये पास बोल देगा, तू खुद कर ले चैक. इसे क्यूँ फँसा रहा है?"

"हाँ, मैं तो करूँगा ही. अबे, या तो चैक कर ले या पास कर दे मुझे."

रामनिवास ने डरते डरते हाथ  बढाया. पहला पत्ता दुग्गी, दूसरा भी दुग्गी, और ये तीसरी दुग्गी. मुकेश ठहाका लगा कर हँसा.

"और मान ले इसकी. उठा अब सारे के सारे पत्ते."

ॐ नमः शिवाय, ॐ नमः शिवाय, ॐ ॐ ॐ ॐ नमः शिवाय.

'नीलम. कॉल हो रही'.

"भाईसाब, आपका फ़ोन बज रहा है." सोनू ने साथ वाले कमरे से आवाज़ दी.

फ़ोन . नीलम का होगा. मुकेश ने चलते हुए कोशिश कर के अपने चेहरे से हँसी-ख़ुशी के सब भाव हटा कर माथे पर त्योरियाँ चढ़ा ली.  

फ़ोन चार्जिंग  से हटाते हुए हल्का सा खाँसा, आवाज़ में रूखापन लाने के लिए.

"हेल्लो."

"फ़ोन किया था?"

"हाँ. कहाँ चली गई थी?" उसने डाँट कर पूछा. 

"गोबर डालने गयी थी."

"कुछ काम-धंधा करने देगी या नहीं?" धीरे धीरे उसकी आवाज़ में तेवर बढ़ने लगा. 

"क्यूँ, मैंने क्या कर दिया."

"वो तो तुझे ज़्यादा पता होगा, रोला1 तो तू ही कर के आई है." 

"ओहो, उन अनपूते ढेडों2 में से किसी ने फ़ोन किया होगा तुझे." 

"गधे की बच्ची, ज़ुबान को काबू में कर ले अपनी...तेरे पंजे काट दूँगा." 

"हाँ हाँ, तू मेरे ही पंजे काटेगा, और करेगा क्या. और किसी पर तो तेरी पार बसती3 नहीं."

"चुप रह जा तू, हरामजादी. एक पंखे के ऊपर इतना डरामा रच दिया. पंखा बाबू से ज़्यादा है क्या. वापस आने दे, तू जितने कहेगी, उतने पंखे फूँक दूँगा तेरे पास."

"मैंने कहा क्या है. पंखा पूरी सांझ, पूरी रात चलता रहा. सुबह श्यानी4 भिगोने घेर5 में गयी तब बंद किया है मैंने. वहीँ पर संजय और उसकी वो रांड थे. तभी बाबू आ गया. मैंने बस इतना कहा था की बाबू, जब सो कर उठो, जाने लगो तो पंखा बंद कर दिया करो. कहते ही संजय मेरे सिर पर गया, मौका ही देख रहा हो जैसे, और ऊपर से उस रांड की खट-पट. बता ऐसा क्या गलत कह दिया मैंने." 

"आग लगने दे उस साले के पंखे को. खाली चल जाएगा, फूँक जाएगा तो कौनसी आफ़त आ जाएगी. बाबू अगर आ भी गया था... गाय भी गऊ माता होती है...एक दिन  गाय के ऊपर चल गया, बता तुझे क्या फ़र्क पड़ गया." 

"हाँ हाँ, मिल6 चल रही हैं ना तेरी तो. चलने दे, फूंकने दे मेरे लक्खे7. आज के बाद ले, कुछ भी कहूँ तो. और तेल छिड़क दूँगी उसके ऊपर."

"गधे की बच्ची, तू हो जा चुप. कहीं ना इतना फन्नाएगी8. यहाँ ये 3 दिन का और काम है, घर आते ही तेरी सोड़ सी भर दूँगा9. आई समझ में?" 

"चुप होने को मैंने कहा क्या है? इतना ही तो कहा था कि बाबू - "

"तू कौन होती है कहने वाली. मैं लाया था ना पंखा खरीद के, अगर फूँक जाएगा, नया लाना होगा तो भी मुझे ही लाना है. तेरा क्या दाखिला10 है इस में?"

"मेरा दाखिला तो इस घर की किसी भी बात में नहीं है. मैं कल सुबह ही अपने घर जा रही हूँ."

"हाँ हाँ, जा ना फिर, जाती क्यूँ नहीं. गधे की बच्ची, धौंस क्या दिखा रही है. तू अगर अपने बाप की जाई है तो जरूर जाइये अब. और सुबह क्या होगा, तू ऐसा कर, अभी अपना सामान बाँध और निकल. ये याद रखियो कि सूख जाएगी, पर लेने नहीं आऊँगा इस बार. बहुत सह लिया है. मुझे दो टीकड़11 खाने है, कहीं और खा लूँगा."

"हम्म, जरूर मिलेंगे तुझे मांडे12 मेरे पीछे से." 

"हाँ, बस तू ही है ना जिसे - "

"बाबू के खाने का टाइम हो गया. माँ बुला रही है. रखती हूँ अभी."

"अच्छा."

कपडे इस्त्री करते हुए भी सोनू के कान उधर ही थे. पूरी बात तो सुन ही चूका था, फिर भी इसे अपना नैतिक फ़र्ज़ मान कर पूछ लिया, "क्या बात हो गयी भाईसाब? ज़्यादा ही परेशान लग रहे हो."

"क्या बताऊँ यार, बस यही घर के रोले. अब एक ही घर में रहते हैं, तो सब से बना कर तो रखनी पड़ेगी." मुकेश फ़ोन के कीपैड की नीचे वाली कंट्रोल की दबाते हुए बोला. संजय 9218059507   

"हाँ संजय, तुने कुछ और बात बताई, तेरी भाभी कुछ और कह रही है....उसने यूँ थोड़े ना कहा था कि पंखा मत चलाओ....इन दो बातों में तो बहुत फ़र्क है...ना ना ना, ठीक बात नहीं है भाई ये... खैर, मैंने समझा दिया है उसको.....अरे कह रहा हूँ, करड़ी13 कर दी है, आगे से वो अपना मुंह भी नहीं खोलेगी, और बता ; पर तू अपनी इस को थोड़ा काबू में रखा कर.. ना ना ना, नहीं वो कोई बात नहीं होती.....हाँ, ग़लती तो थी उसकी, इस तरीके से बोलना, मैंने खुरका14 भी दी है बहुत, पर बात गलत नहीं थी उसकी....तू उस से कैसा ही मत बोल, ना अच्छा, ना बुरा, बात खत्म, उसकी जिम्मेवारी मेरी है.... हम्म हम्म, मैंने बता दिया ना  इलाज..... हाँ, कोई नहीं, चल छोड़, हो जाती है बात, अब दोबारा कोई रोला नहीं होना चाहिए, ठीक?....ठीक है, मुझे भी बुला रहे हैं, रखता हूँ फ़ोन अभी, शांति से रहना अब..." 

सोनू कुछ कहना कहना चाहता था पर समझ नहीं आया कि किस तरफ की बात कहे. इसलिए फिर वही बात कह दी. "क्या बात हो गई भाईसाब? इतना गुस्सा मत खाया करो."

असल में मुकेश को सीधे संपर्क सूची में जा कर संपर्क निकालना नहीं आता. वह फिर से कीपैड की नीचे वाली कंट्रोल की तेज़ी से दबाने लगा. नीलम 9813729506. हाथ रुका. उसने सोनू की तरफ देखा. 

"सोनू, सच बात बता रहा हूँ. तेरी भाभी घणी सीधी है. घर का सारा काम करना, सबकी देखभाल, डांगर-ढोर, तुझे पता ही है कितना काम हो जाता है घर में, किसी से फालतू नहीं बोलना, और ऊपर से ये रोले सहने.... मुझे ही पता है कि वो कैसे गुज़ारा कर रही है अपना... इतनी सूधी औरत बस कहीं कहीं मिलेगी...." 

कहते कहते उसका गला रूंध गया, आवाज़ भर्रा आई. उसने आँखें फेरी, कॉल का बटन दबाया.

"हेल्लो... हाँ, हो गया काम खत्म?"

फ़ोन कान से लगाए हुए वह कमरे से बाहर निकल गया. अपनी गधे की बच्ची से बात करने के लिए.
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1 rola - झगड़ा, शोर-शराबा                                            2. anpoote - childless ढेड़ - badmash; derogatory words, said in anger 

3. paar basna - to have control                                 4. shyani bhigona - to make fodder for cattle 

5. gher - the other house in villages, where the cattle are kept, has a kitchen garden etc. 

6. mill - mill, factory                                                      7. mere lakhe - meri taraf se

8. phannaegi - to act smart                                         9. sod - quilt ; sod bhar dena - to beat someone fiercely

10. daakhila - interference, to have a say               11. टीकड़ - rough thick bread

12. maande - small, soft, thin bread                         13. kardi kar dena - to tighten someone

14. khurka dena - to scold

पूँजीवाद के समय में प्यार

अमेरिका की किसी कंपनी के कंप्यूटर में
कुछ गड़बड़ हो गयी
तुम गई उसे ठीक करने के लिए
और फिर वहीँ रह गयी

यहाँ तुम्हारे पीछे से
उस झील को काई ने ढक लिया
जिस झील के किनारे बैठ कर
हम चाँद को निहारा करते थे
घास धूप में जल गयी
और वह बेंच जिस पर
मैंने तुम्हें पहली बार छुआ था
बस्ती के बच्चे
उसकी फट्टियाँ उखाड़ कर ले गए
कुछ दिनों बाद बेंच ही गायब हो गया
कोई उसे कबाड़ी वाले को बेच गया

तुम्हारे अमेरिका जाने के बाद
इस जगह पर अब एक
शोपिंग कॉम्पलेक्स बनने वाला है
जानेमन

पूँजीवाद हमारे प्यार को निगल गया

उस बेंच के लोहे को
भट्टी में जलाया गया, पिघलाया गया
ठंडा पड़ा, कठोर हुआ
फिर ठोक-पीट कर
उस से ताजमहल बनाया गया
जो आर्ट गैलरी  के शोकेस में सजा दिया
ऐसे ही पचास ताजमहल की कतार में
कीमत थी चार हज़ार रूपये
लेकिन वह ज़ंग खा गया
उसकी एक मीनार टूट गई
और गुम्बद में दरार पड़ गई
मैंने देखा नहीं पर मैं जानता हूँ.
वह साँचेकार
मेरे सपनों में आता है बार-बार
और मुझे गालियाँ दिया करता है

मैं न कॉम्पलेक्स की योजना बनाने वालों में हूँ
और न उसकी दीवारें बनाने वालों में
मैं बंजारों में शामिलात हूँ
मेरे पास ज़्यादा रूपये नहीं
पर विदेश जाने पर, सुना है,
बहुत से अलाऊंस और इनसैनटिव मिलते हैं
अपने उस महंगाई भत्ते में से, हो सके तो,
पुराने प्यार की खातिर
कुछ रूपये उस साँचेकार को दे देना
   

Intelligence ke fayde

Chhota sa bachcha. Pyaara sa. Laal rang ki t-shirt aur safed rang ki nikkar pehne hue. Uske papa ne bulaya to dus foot doori par khada ho gaya.

“Akshit. Aao beta, aa kar bhaiya se baat karo.”

Dheere se bina kisi jaldi ke sarakta hua aaya. Thoda uchhal kar mere saamne rakhi hui kursi par baith gaya. Phir ek taang doosri ke upar rakh li aur hath kursi ki baju par. Sar neeche jhukae hue.

Uske papa us se aankhein milane ki koshish mein thoda jhuk kar bole, “Beta, bhaiya bahut intelligent hain. Inse baatein karo. Aapko achhi achhi baatein bataenge.” Phir meri taraf dekh kar bole, “Iski mummy iske mama ke ghar gayi hui hai. Main chai le kar aata hun. Tab tak tum zara is se baat kar ke dekho.”

Kya baat kar ke dekhun? Bechare bachche ke liye museebat hoti hai ye pal. Mujhe yaad hai jab mere pitaji mujhe hoshiyar aur safal bhaiya aur uncles se achhi shiksha, prerna aur gyaan lene ko kehte the.

“Kitne saal ke ho tum?” Maine poochha to aise chounk gaya, jaise use kisi soch ke samudra se bahar kheench liya gaya ho.

 “9 saal ka”

“School jate ho?”

“Haan, jata hun.”

“Kya naam hai aapke school ka?”

“St. Xavier’s.”

“Very good. Kaunsi class mein ho aap?”

“Fourth class mein.”

Main janta tha ye sab sawal jo chhote bachchon se baat karne ke liye hote hain. Mujhe nahi pata ki ye sawal kyun hote hain. Socha jae to meri in sawalon mein koi dilchaspi bhi nahi hai. Kya farq padta hai uske school ke naam se, ya is se ki wah 9 saal ka hai ya 10 saal ka. Lekin bas hain ye sawal. Jane maine kahan se seekhe. Ye sawal poochhne ke liye zyada sochna nahi padta. Agla sawal ati avashyak hai – bade ho kar kya banoge? Par ye sawaal zubaan par aane tak main khud ko rok liya, aur chupchap use dekhne laga. Wah kuchh der gardan jhukae shaant baitha raha; phir meri taraf dekha.

“Bhaiya, aapko ek baat bataun?” Wah pehli baar khud se kuchh bola.

“Haan haan, batao.” Maine utsukta ke sath kaha.

“Kal Discovery channel par bata rahe the ki chaand par paani hai aur badi badi chattanein bhi.”

“Achha!” Maine muskurate hue hairani ke sath kaha. Rozmarra ki shor-gul se bhari yatharthvadi duniya se kahin door kuchh alag. ek bachche ke komal chit mein machalte hue masoom bhav jo wah mere saamne vyakt kar raha tha. Shayad mujh mein use kuchh achha laga hoga.

“Haan. Wahan par paani hai. Main bataun ki maine kya socha...kya karna chahiye.”

“Haan, batao na.....ki kya karna chahiye.”

“Wahan par na...bahut sare plants aur carbon-dioxide le jao. paani to pehle se hai hi. phir we apna khana bana lenge, aur Oxygen de denge. Sahi ho jaega.”

Maine vismay bhari nigahon se use dekha. Shayad is baat mein koi kami ho ki kyun aisa nahi kiya ja sakta, lekin yeh itna saral bhi nahi tha ki ise hansi mein udaya ja sake. Khud to main janta bhi nahi tha ki kyun aisa sambhav nahi hai. “Hmmm....sahi keh rahe ho aap.”

“Bhaiya, mujhe jaldi se bada hona hai.”

“Achha! Aisa kyun?”

“Main bada ho jaunga tabhi to kuchh kar paunga na. Par tab tak ye scientist mere sare idea chori kar lenge.”

Ek chhote se bachche ko is tarah ki chinta hona kuchh vinodpoorn sa laga; Aur sath hi bahut achha bhi. Uske chehre par aisi gambheerta thi jaise ki sachmuch uske dimaag par is baat ka kitna bojh ho.

Tabhi uske papa chai le kar aa gaye. Chai mez par rakhte hue bole,

“To beta, kya laga aapko baat kar ke?”

Pata nahi Kya lagna chahiye tha. Maine kaha, “Achha laga Uncle.”

“Mera matlab ki kya laga aapko; ye kuchh kar lega life mein ya nahi?”

“Haan uncle, kyun nahi! Qafi intelligent hai ye to.”

Apni ummeed ke anusar jawab pa kar unke chehre par santushti ki ek badi muskaan phail gayi.

“Hmmm...school mein bhi top karta hai. Socha hua hai maine to; Bada hone par ise IIT phir uske baad IIM karvaenge, ya phir IAS.”

Kash we us se bhi pooch lete ki wah kya sochta hai, kya karna chahta hai bada ho kar.

“Uncle, aap ise IISc, IIST ya MIT – Chennai ke liye bhi try karva sakte hain.”

“Achha! Uska kya scope hai?”

“Uncle, space research ya scientific research ke liye ye qafi achche institutes hain. Wahan jaega to – “

“Are beta, kya rakha hai research-visarch mein! Poori zindagi nikal jati hai. Hamare ek mitr the, wo kar rahe the. Aadmi apne parivar tak ke liye kuchh nahi kar pata. Yun hi paglon ki tarah lage rehte hain raat-din. Itna intelligent hai ye abhi se, aage bhi hamara poora dhyan rahega, to jab IAS kar sakta hai to phir wahi kyun na kare? Samaj mein jo rutba IAS ka hai wo kisi aur job mein thode na hai.”

“Par aap to IIT aur uske baad IIM – “

“Haan wahi, graduation to chahiye hi hoti hai IAS ke liye. Waise to mujhe is par yaqeen hai ki ye kar hi lega par just in case, IAS nahi ho pata hai to us mein bhi achha scope hai.”

Kis cheez ka scope hai? Haan, Main janta hun, kyunki mujhe bahut baar mere pitaji ne, pitaji ke doston ne, rishtedaaron ne alag-alag waqt par mujhe iske bare mein bataya hai. Kuchh logon ko main janta bhi hun.

IIM se nikal kar log sabun, tel, cream bechne wali American companies mein, MNC mein, munshi ban kar laakhon rupya kamate hain. Software par plan banate hain. Plan software banata hai, par software we chalate hain. Ya American bank ke international travel card bechne ki plan bana kar achha package lete hain. Mechanical engineer computer ki company mein naukri kar bahar ki companies ki website etc ko theek-thaak chalane ke liye sasti majdoori pradaan karte hain, jise outsourcing kehte hain. Computer program likhte hain. Kamaal ki baat ye hai ki kabhi kabhi koi badi samasya atak jae aur client company aapko apne wahan bula le to ek-do saal videsh jane ka mauka bhi mil jata hai. Aapke bahut sare dost ban jate hain. Aap facebook par ‘Shit!’ bhi likho to 200 log like karte hain. Isliye nahi ki aap videsh mein ho ya aapke paas paisa hai; nahi nahi, isliye ki we aapke sachche dost ban gae hain; sab aapko bahut chahte hain.

IAS ban jao to door ke rishtedar bhi aapko apna saga batate hain. Aapki laal batti ki gaadi ko izzat dete hain, mera matlab aapko bhi. Haan, unke mann mein aapke liye sachcha pyaar aur izzat hoti hai; aap IAS na bhi hote to bhi aisa hi pyaar milta. Koi aapki power ke peechhe, aapse koi kaam nikalvane ke liye aisa nahi kar raha. Aur haan, ‘imaandar’ IAS bhi ho to bhi maheene ke 4-5 lakh rupya to log use bina maange uske hathon mein de jate hain. Aakhir 1.5 lakh rupya to SSC ke grade 2 officer kama lete hain. IAS ko rehne ke liye quarter bhi milta hai. Do saal ki paid study leave, sarkar ke kharche par padhai ke liye do saal America raho aur tankhvaah bhi milegi. Waise bhi qafi chhutiyan hoti hain. Kaam bhi koi khaas nahi hota. Achha kaam hai. Zyada workload nahi hai. 

Use convent school mein padha rahe hain. Fees bharte hain, tuition lagva rakhe hain. Agar wo intelligent banta hai to kya we us intelligence ka fayda nahi uthaenge? Dher sara paisa aur status – aur chahiye hi kya aadmi ko? Chaand par ped ugane se kya hoga! Bachcha hai na; abhi samajhta nahi hai.

  

Ugly people in true love?

   Be it the Indian or western love sagas - Laila-Majnu, Heer-Ranjha, Devdas-Paro, Sheereen-Farhad, Soni-Mahiwal, Romeo-Juliet, Paris-Helen - the hero and the heroine are fair, slim and tall. The writer proudly remarks that the word of her unrivaled beauty was spread throughout the entire region;  And there was no one to be found as gallant and able-bodied as him.                    

I wonder if it is a coincidence that this description holds true for all the love heroes and heroines, or can black, fat, short, frail or ugly people not fall in deep love? Why are their love stories not worth a mention? 

    

Very short stories

प्यार का समुद्र 

वे दोनों प्यार में डूबे, कुछ वक़्त बाद डूब कर मर गए. 

आफ्टरड्रिंक  

किस्मत ही बुरी थी बेचारे की. दोस्तों के साथ शराब पी; सोचा कि कहीं घरवालों को गंध न आ जाए; इसलिए रास्ते में दुकान से आफ्टरड्रिंक ले ली. पिताजी ने आफ्टरड्रिंक पीते हुए देख लिया. 

बुलेट-प्रूफ जैकेट
Don ने बुलेट-प्रूफ जैकेट पहन रखी थी, वो भी जर्मनी से निर्यात की हुई. स्टाइल से चल रहा था, उसके थोबड़े पर  गोली मार दी. खून की पिचकारी निकली सर से.

Date with a feminist

I had a blind date with a self-proclaimed feminist. She came clad in pink, then asked me to escort her to some restaurant. She entered before me, then didn't take her seat waiting for me to pull the chair for her. When the turn came to pay the bill, she took it for granted that I pay it. I paid the bill and then ran away at top speed.   

Mohit Macho

Jaisalmer mein ek hotelkeeper mila tha. Bahut bolta tha. Raat ko apni prem kahani mujhe sunane laga. Apni girlfriend se bahut pyaar karta tha. 5-6 maheene rupye jod kar aur khud ke sabhi kharchon mein katuati kar usne uske liye ek dus hazar rupye ka scooter khareeda. Girlfriend dekh kar bahut khush hui, phir scooter par baith kar champat ho gayi. tab aisa dil toota ki uski dobara pyaar karne ki himmat na hui. Mujhse kehne laga ki sahab, na mujhe daru ka shauq hai, na cigarette ka, keval ladki ka shauq hai. Yahan itni tourist aati hain, koi france se, koi russia se, sab ke sath....

Mohit bhi kul mila kar waisa hi hai. bas ek farq hai ki uski zindagi mein is tarah ki koi hriday vidarak kahani nahi hai. Wah janamjat chhichhore kism ka insan hai. Kisi ko agar ye nahi maloom ho ki chhichore kism ka insaan kise kehte hain, to aa kar us se mil jae. Mere apartments mein hi rehta hai. Jab yahan kuchh varshon pehle shift kiya, tab jaan-pehchan hui thi. Jitni jo dosti bani hui hai, uska mukhay adharbhoot hai Domino's ka pizza mania, jo hum dono ko pasand hai. Wah call karta hai. Main free hota hoon, to bike par pahunch jate hain Domino's. Ek pizza soya, ek pizza capsicum aur ek aadha litre sprite. Oregano, chilli flakes, Ketchup, do glaas aur napkin le kar hum jaise hi baithte hain, wah apne sade hue karnamo ka chittha khol kar baith jata hai.

"Bhai, kya kamaal ki ladki patai hai budhvaar ko."

Bas wahi kahani - koi coaching centre mein mil jati hai, koi church mein; koi office mein; kisi ka number uske dost de dete hain aur wah call karta hai; wah wrong number keh kar rakh deti hai, par phir SMS par baaton ka silsila shuru ho jata hai; phir we 2 din baad McD's par milte hain aur 4-5 din baad uske flat par. Phir wah khate hue is prem prasang, asal mein hawas prasang, ki vistrit jaankari dene lagta hai.

Pizza. Khachch khachch. Maine use ek burger khilaya.
Sprite. Surup surup. Kiss ho gayi.
Pizza. Aoom aaom....dakar...flat par le aaya, bhai bahar nahi milta main.
Munh mein dikhte hue pizza ke tukde. Phir maine apna hath andar daal diya.
Thaak...utejit ho kar apni baat batate hue uske hath se cold drink ka glass gir jata hai...tu.n tu.n tu.n, (blocked content).

Mann mein aata hai ki chillaun ki ruk ja yaar, kha lene de chen se. Main TV par livemedia ki taraf dekhne lagta hun aur kehta hun ki 'Main hoon kaun'.

"Kya?"

"Are udhar. Wo abhi ek chehra banaenge pencil se. batana hai ki kaun hai."

Famous business tycoon. Aapke paas hai 12 second, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6.....Vijay Mallya, main theek pehchan leta hun. Phir wo kuchh kehne lagta hai to main phir se keh deta hun,

"Abe dekh na, Yo Mousi. Ye bahut hi mazakiya aata hai yaar."

Yun avoid na maarun to kya karun. Dimaag kharab kar deta hai. Jis din maine pizza ke paise diye hote hain, us din to aur bhi zyada. Bas ek hi baat baar-baar non-stop. Kya ummeed karta hai wo mujhse. Kya dosti ki khatir mujhe uske karname sunne chahiye, hairat dikhani chahiye ki wah kya macho hai. Kaise ladkiyon ko phataphat pata leta hai. Ya phir mujhe auron ke sex episodes sunne mein maza aana chahiye. bathroom mein madhur kathaein padhna ek alag baat hai, par Domino's pizza store mein baith kar kya? Excite houn, aur phir? Phir apni pant adjust karta rahun? 

Waise bhi koi excitement bhi kahan hoti hai uski kahaniyon se. Aur na hi dilchaspi paida hoti hai, Kyunki na kahani mein koi romanchak mod hota hai, na hi nayapan. Kabhi usne ye nahi kaha ki wah bahut pyaar mein hai, kisi ko dil-o-jaan se chahne laga hai, aur uske bina use dard hone ki to koi sambhavna reh hi nahi jati. un ladkiyon ke dard ke baare mein bhi usne kabhi nahi kaha. Shaadi ke liye bhi un mein se keval ek-do ladkiyon ne hi us se kaha hai, jinko kuchh din to usne ghoomaya, phir keh diya ki dobara phone na karein. Uske aage kuchh nahi, bas phone aana band ho gaya. Lagta hai ki wah haad-maans ki ek but ke baare mein baat kar raha ho, jis mein koi bhaav nahi hai, vichar nahi hai, jiska bas naam badalta rehta hai. Meenakshi, Tanvi, Ankita, Rubina, Sonam..... Chehre ki to wah baat karta hi kab hai, kabhi maine nahi suna ki usne kaha ho ki aankhein gehri hai, baal reshmi hain, ungliyan komal hain, baat bas stan ki hoti hai jo hamesha sudol hote hain, ya phir nitamb ki jo gol hote hain.

Kabhi kabhi to hadd kar deta hai. Kehta hai ki sab girlfriends idhar-udhar ho gayi hain, kuchh ko usne chhod diya hai kyunki wo dimaag khane lagi thi, aur isliye ab main use kisi nayi ladki ka number doon. Mann mein aata hai ki chillaun, saale ghinone aadmi, main koi G.B. road ka dalla hun kya ki tujhse dosti karvane ke liye ladkiyon ke number honge mere paas. Main mana kar deta hun ki main kahan se laun number. Wah phir bhi ad jata hai ki mere phone mein itni ladkiyon ke number hain, un mein se kya main koi number use nahi de sakta. Main samjhata hun ki un mein se koi aisi-waisi ladki nahi hai. To wah pal bhar aankhon mein ek vehshi muskurahat bhar kar andaz se kehta hai ki aisa kuchh nahi hai bhai, sari ladkiyan aisi hi hoti hain. Main yeh keh kar baat band kar deta hun ki kisi ladki se aisi khasi dosti nahi hai ki us se parichay karvaun. Aise waqt par uske chehre par jo lachari ka bhaav hota hai, wah mujhe bilkul beemar lagta hai. Usko dekh kar bertrand russell ka wo lekh yaad aa jata hai jis mein unhone kaha hai ki anoupchaarik sex sambandh banate rehne se us mein se romanch chala jata hai. Romance khatam ho jata hai, aur aadmi bina kisi bhaav ke janwar ki tarah yaun sambandh banata rehta hai, jis mein ek tarah ki kroorta samahit hoti hai. Isliye sex partner ko, visheshtaya shaadi ke baad beewi ko anand ki anubhuti nahi hoti.

Waise beewi ka to pata nahi par maa-baap uske khush hain ki unka beta kitna seedha hai, kehta hai ki maa-baap ki marzi se shaadi karunga, jabki main apne maa-baap ke saamne Sonia se shaadi karne ki baat kehta hun to unhein lagta hai ki ladka bigad gaya hai, ladkiyon ke chakkar mein phans gaya hai.

Oh haan, Sonia meri girlfriend. Formality ke taur par wah mujhse uske baare mein bhi poochh leta hai. "Aur bhabhi kaisi hai." Mujhse uske munh se yeh sun_na achha nahi lagta. Main Sonia ki baat ko, bhale hi us se ladai bhi kyun na ho rakhi ho, in sab baaton ke beech nahi lana chahta. Waise bhi main janta hun ki wo ladai ka bhi kya hi samadhan dega.

"Bhai, main to kehta hun ki pyaar mein serious hona hi nahi chahiye." Phir is tarah khush hoga jaise ki usne itne kamaal ki baat kahi ho ki 100 saal baad bhi aadmi aapas mein baat karenge ki yeh quote kis ki hai. Mohit Macho ki hai na?

Isliye main bas keh deta hun ki haan, sab theek hai.

"Transfer ho gaya kya uska?"
"Nahi, abhi wahin hai bangalore mein."

Mere yun kehte hi apne chehre par aane wali ek dhoort muskaan ko wah chahte hue bhi rok nahi pata. Shayad yeh sochkar ki main kitna bada bevkoof hun. Mujhse kehta hai ki main yahan ek aur girlfriend kyun nahi bana leta. Main use samjhane ki koshish karta hun ki main uske liye serious hun, par wah samajh nahi pata.

"Use kya pata chalna hai itni door se, uske liye reh serious, yahan wali aise hi timepass dhoond le."

Main kya kahun, kuchh nahi keh pata. Pyaar mein vafa nibhana itna out-of-trend ho gaya hai ki wah mujhe ye sab salaah itni tasaalli se deta hai aur ulta mujhe use pyaar mein vafadar hone ki salah deete hue sharm aati hai. Itni gambheer baatein karne se wah mujhse 'mast banda' hone ka label chheen lega. Aaj ke waqt mein khush ho ya na ho, par mast hona bahut jaroori hai. Isliye main bevkoofon ki tarah hansta hun aur kehta hun ki nahi yaar, apne liye to ek hi sahi hai, wahi sambhal jae to qafi hai. Jaise girlfriend na ho kar koi bhaari baksa ho. Yehi to baat hai, pata bhi nahi chalta ki kabhi kabhi kab mein se uski beemari mujhe bhi sankramit kar deti hai. Aur to aur waise mujhe uski baatein napasand hain par Kabhi kabhi to mujhe us se jalan tak hone lagti hai. Uske aisa flirt hone ke bavjood uski sab girlfriends us se khush rehti hain, jab ki mere vafadaar hone par bhi mujhe kai baar lagta hai ki jaise koi keemat hi nahi. Aisa nahi ki vafaa nibha kar main us par koi ehsaan karta hun. Wafa to wah bhi nibhati hai. Par phir bhi kabhi kabhi lagta hai. Pata nai kya lagta hai par lagta hai.  

Phir ek din uska phone aaya. Har baar ki tarah usne poochha.

"Aur bhai, kya kar raha hai?"
"Kuchh khaas nahi yaar. Tu bata."
"Bhai tera hamesha yehi hota hai. Kabhi kuchh khaas bhi kar liya kar." Phir halki si hansi hansta hai.

Asal mein jab wah shaam ke waqt phone karta hai, us waqt ya to main kuchh padh raha hota hun ya likh raha hota hun. Ab use kya bataun? College khatam hone ke baad bhi kaunsi kitaab padh raha hun? Kya likh raha hun, shayari? Ek baar ghar par aaya tha, likhte hue dekha to bola ki bhai, mujhe bhi suna de yaar apni shayari, kya likha hai. Use samajh kuchh nahi aaya, bas kehne laga ki waah bhai, kya baat hai, tu to shayar ho gaya. Phir wahi halki si hansi. Phir usne truckon ke peechhe likhe kuchh sher sunae, aur phir shayari mein bhi ling, stan vagarah jaise shabdon se paripoorn sher bakne laga. Isliye main bas itna hi kehta hun,

"Abe aise hi yaar. Tu bata ki kahan hai."
"Gym se aa raha hun. Tere ghar ke neeche khada hun. Aaja."
"Aata hun."

Neeche utar ke dekha ki bhai car le kar khada hai.
"Kya baat hai, car kahan se maar laya."
Batata hai ki kisi dost ki hai. Finance karva rakhi thi usne. Kuchh to kishton ka chakkar tha.
"Use 2.5 lakh rupye chahiye the. Maine de diye, badle mein uski car le li. Aaj 20 tareekh hai, do hafte ka time diya hai maine. 31 tak paise lauta deta hai to theek hai, nahi to car meri."

Main apne mann mein sochta hun ki kitna bada kameena hai ye banda. Doston ke sath kya aise khel khele jate hain. 4 lakh ki gaadi
2.5 lakh mein hathiya li. Phir bhi main kehta nahi. Uski jugaadbazi ki daad deta hun.

"Bhai prenika ke liye li hai. Flat bhi khareedne ki soch raha hun kishton par. Uske baap ke aage jaunga to kuchh to haisiyat honi chahiye. Beshaq koi naukri nahi karta, par usko keh to sakunga ki flat hai, car hai, teri ladki ko koi kami nahi hone dunga."

Kya sooraj aaj paschim se nikla tha? Kya main Mohit se hi baat kar raha hun, ya ye uska koi judwa bhai hai?

"Kya baat hai yaar. Shaadi karega, waise prenika kaun hai, ye to bataya nahi."

"Bhai 6 maheene pehle meri girlfriend thi, phir us se ladai ho gayi thi. Ab hafte bhar pehle uska saamne se call aaya, phir se baatein shuru ho gayi hain. Main batata tha uske baare mein, tujhe yaad nahi?"

Haan haan, mere dimaag mein to uska poora database ready hai na, ki kab kahan kis ladki se mila, kitne din affair chala, kab ladai hui, mujhe to sab yaad hona chahiye, aur to koi kaam hai nahi mujhe iske siwa.

"Haan yaar, mujhe thoda thoda yaad aa raha hai. tu baat to karta tha kisi Prenika ki."
"Haan wahi wali."
"To kya tu serious hai kya uske liye."
"Haan bhai, ab kisi se to shaadi karni hi hai. To usi se kar lun, dikhne mein bhi bahut smart hai."
"Hmm, sahi hai. To phir teri baaki girlfriends? Wo chhod di?"
"Nahi, wo bhi hain. Par wo to aise hi hain. Timepaas",wah mere sawal par hairat dikhate hue jawab deta hai.

Pata nahi ye kis tarah ka serious hona hai.  

"Par jab tu Prenika ke liye keh raha hai ki serious hai to phir unki kya jarurat hai? Kabhi use pata chal gaya to?"
"Chal, use aise hi pata chal jaega kya? Aur bhai, dekh tere aage sach bolun to kuchh aur bhi to jaruratein hoti hain." Wah meri taraf aankh maarte hue hontho par ek muskaan lata hai.
"Hmm...." Main sochta hun ki poochhna chahiye ya nahi, phir poochh leta hun, "Wo jaruratein Prenika se nahi poori hoti."
"Nahi yaar, kya baat keh raha hai. Uske sath thode na kuchh karunga."
"Kyun?"
"Bhai us se to shaadi karni hai."

Oh ho ho, nek vichar. Shaadi se pehle yaun sambandh nahi. Jin ladkiyon se shaadi nahi karni, unke sath kuchh bhi karo. Aur jis se aapko shaadi karni hai, jo zindagi bhar aapke hi sath rahegi, uske sath kuchh nahi karna, khud ke liye usko khud se bhi bachakar rakhna hai, bilkul pavitra. Aur khud ki pavitrata ka kuchh nahi. Kya philosophy hai Mohit ki, apni samajh se to bilkul pare. Is waqt yun hi mera mann karta hai uski taang kheenchne ka. Isliye yadapi jawab mujhe pata hai, phir bhi sawal poochhta hun, uske saamne sawal khada karne ke liye.

"Achha maan le, jaise teri timepaas girlfriends hain uske alawa, uske bhi agar kuchh aise hi timepass boyfriends ho to? Tab bhi karega shaadi?"
"Kya kuchh bhi ulti-seedhi baat bolta hai bhai tu. Aisi ladki se to main baat bhi na karun, shaadi to door ki baat hai. Ladki hai ya randi hai."

Ladki ghoome-phire to randi, ladka kare to Macho man. Kitna bada behroopiya hai ye banda. Jaise ki us ladki se shaadi kar ke us par to ye ehsaan kar raha ho. Phir mujhse poochta hai,

"Achha yaar, kisi airlines mein koi jaankari hai kya?"
"Airlines mein? Nahi to. Kyun, kya hua?"
"Yaar Prenika ne air hostess ka course kiya hua hai Frankfinn se. Naukri sifarish ke bina lag nahi pati. Koi jaankari nikle to bataiyo."

Meri to kahan se jaankari nikalne wali thi, par maine kaha ki kuchh logon se baat kar ke dekhta hun, aur agar koi contact nikla to batata hun.

"Haan yaar, uski bhi agar naukri lag jati hai to achha ho jaega. Waise to main hi kama sakta hun par phir bhi dono kamaein to achha hai. Uske baap par bhi achha impression padega ki ladki ki naukri bhi lagva di."

Uske kamane ka aisa hai ki wah kuchh khaas nahi karta. Har kuchh waqt ke baad wah kuchh aur kar raha hota hai. Kabhi Networking ka course kar liya, kabhi GNIIT mein admission le liya. Correspondence se Gwalior se J.B.T. kar li. Kaam ke naam par pehle call centre mein tha, phir kuchh waqt events ka kaam karta raha, aajkal Noida mein ek real estate wale ke sath flat bikva raha hai. Har flat bikvane par commission milta hai. Prenika ka usne bataya ki abhi Gurgaon mein call centre mein naukri kar rahi hai.

Main bhi us waqt Gurgaon mein kiraye ke flat par rehne laga tha. Mohit ne phone kiya ki flat chahiye. Kai baar usne flat ki chaabi ke liye kaha hai. Par girlfriend-boyfriend ho to ek alag baat hai, uske karnamo ke liye flat ki chaabi dena mujhe apne flat ko randikhana banane jaisa lagta hai. Maana ki kiraye ka flat hai par mujhe padhna-likhna, sona, khana, rehna hota hai wahan. Main hamesha mana kar deta hun yeh bahana bana kar ki neeche rehne wale makaan maalik ko jante hain, kisi ladki ko aate dekha to makaanmalik se shikayat kar denge. Doosra itna achha flat milna mushkil hoga, isliye main koi panga nahi karna chahta. Waise bhi jab 2-3 saal pehle wah kiraye par South-Ex mein rehta tha, maine bhi Sonia ke Delhi aane par us se flat ke liye kaha tha, par kameene ne har baar kuchh na kuchh keh kar mana kar diya tha. Wah kyun itna dhoort hai ki khud kisi kaam nahi aata, phone tabhi karta hai jab kuchh kaam ho, informally bolne ki koshish karta hai itni ummeed ke sath ki uske liye sab jaan dene ko tayyar rahein. Main apne mann hi mann mein kehta hun ki bhaad mein jae.

"Bhai, Prenika ke liye chahiye. Aur wo bhi din ke waqt. aisa kuchh nahi hai, use photo kheenchwane hain, uska baap bhi hoga sath mein."

Prenika ko koi dalal mil gaya tha airlines mein naukri lagvane ke liye. Kaha tha ki Sahara aur Kingfisher airlines mein interview fix kara dega, aur clear bhi ho hi jaega. Rupye kaam khatam hone ke baad wo apni khushi se kuchh dena chahein to de dein, use airlines walon ki taraf se commission mil jana tha. Iske liye use photo kheenchne the aage bhejne ke liye, jiske liye ek khali kamra chahiye tha. Maine samaan zyada khareeda nahi tha, isliye kamra khali hi tha. mana karne ki koi vajah bhi saamne nahi thi.

Shanivaar ka din tha. Prenika ka phone aaya ki uske papa aur wah auto se utar gaye hain, Kisi Shivam plaza ke paas khade hain. We samjhane ke baad bhi galat jagah utar gaye the. Kuchh to wah jagah bhi thodi confusing thi, sab sadakein ek jaisi dikhne wali. Main motorcycle le kar us taraf chala. Mohit ki girlfriend. Uski kisi girlfriend se usne kabhi nahi milvaya hai. Aur yeh wahi ladki thi jis se wah shaadi karne ki soch raha tha. Jane kaisi hogi. Airhostess ban_na chahti hai. Sundar to hogi. Kahan hai ek jawan ladki aur uske pitaji. Dhoondne mein zyada pareshani na hui, we saamne hi khade the. Namaste uncle, hullo Prenika. Waise wahan se doori aadha kilometre se zyada na thi, par yeh kehna ki is road se chal kar aa jao, thoda ajeeb hota. Pehle uske pitaji ko bike par bitha kar laya, phir wapas ja kar Prenika ko. Wah jamuni rang ka top aur blue jeans pehne hue thi. Dikhne mein sundar thi aur muskurati achha thi. Wah bike par dono taraf taangein kar ke peeche baith gayi, aur mere kandho par hath rakhte hue boli, "Chaliye."

Photographer ke intezar mein baith gae. Maine unke liye chai bana di, sath mein khane ke liye rusk. TV tha nahi, aur uske pitaji kuchh zyada bolte nahi the. Ya to apne hi vicharon mein uljhe hue hawa mein dekhte rehte, ya phir phone par cement-plaster ke bhaav ke baare mein kuchh bolte rahe. Prenika aur main baat karne lage. Wahi normal baatein - kya kaam karte ho, weekend kaise guzarta hai, tumhein kya pasand hai. Beech beech mein uske pitaji jaise kisi kartavya ka palan karte hue mujhse kuchh poochh lete ki maine kya padhai ki hai, ab kya karta hun, natively kaunsi jagah se hun.

Qareeb dedh ghante baad photographer apne ek assistant ke sath aaya. Khali hath. Camera nahi lae? Hai na, usne apni zeb se apna 3.5 Mega pixel ka chhota sa digicam nikala.

"Is se photo kheenchoge?" Maine hairat ke sath kaha.
"Kyun, is mein kya burai hai?"
"Is se kya clarity aaegi. Itne megapixel ka camera to phone mein hi hota hai."

Use apne assistant ke saamne yeh baat sun_na akhar gaya.
"Nahi, ye theek hai. Main janta hun ki kaise kya karna hai." Usne tiraskar poorn nigahon se mujhe dekhte hue kaha.
"Theek hai, jaisi aapki marzi. Kariye."

Bedroom ka samaan maine ek taraf kar diya. Wah idhar-udhar kamre mein chakkar lagata raha, bola ki roshni qafi nahi hai. Maine light jala di, khidkiyan khol di. Phir bola ki deewaron ka rang bahut hi halka hai aur saaf bhi nahi hai, kamra chhota hai. Gussa to bahut aaya. Mann mein aaya ki hadka dun ki pehle bata deta to main doosra flat kiraye par le kar us mein paint karva deta tere photo ke liye. Par laga ki kahin Prenika ko bura na lag jae. Isliye itna hi kaha ki jaisa hai, wahi hai, wo khud dekh le. Na usne kuchh make-up kiya, na photo dhang se kheenchna aaya. Jab wah bak-bak karne se baaz nahi aaya, to mujhe kehna hi pada ki jab use khud kuchh aata hai nahi, to doosron par tamas todne se kya fayda. Jaisa photo usne kheencha, DTC ka bus pass banvane ke liye bhi us se behtar photo kheencha jata hai. Ye to airhostess ke liye apply karne ke liye portfolio tha. Na uske paas khud ki lights, na make-up, na costumes, na koi props, na background aur uske upar ye ghatiya 3.5 MP ka camera. Prenika ne bhi meri baat mein sath diya. Uske liye baat sambhalna mushkil ho gaya, to usne kaha ki uska khud ka studio hai jis mein sab rakha hai, par uske liye wah 10,000 rupye lega. Maine kaha ki bahar kisi achhe studio se 400-500 rupye mein ek look tayyar ho jati hai.

"Theek hai, to aap wahan se kheenchva lo. Kheenchva kar mujhe photo mail kar dena. Main aage ka kaam dekh lunga."

Wah nakhre mein jane ko tayyar ho gaya. Uska koi kaam wahan tha bhi nahi. Jitna jo use karna tha, we 2-3 photo wah kheench chuka tha. Isliye use kisi ne roka bhi nahi. Mohit ka phone aaya ki wah aadhe ghante mein pahunch raha hai, aur main unhein bithae rakhun. Maine Prenika ko yeh bataya aur hum phir se drawing room mein baith gae. Mujhe yaad aaya ki kitchen ki almari mein namkeen aur biscuit rakhe hain, main plate mein nikaal kar le aaya, aur sath mein phir se chai bana li. Kuchh der us photographer ki burai hoti rahi. Phir usne kaha ki mujhe itna idea kaise hai photos ke baare mein,

"Kya aap bhi photography karte ho?"
"Haan, maine portraits liye hain logon ke, lekin portfolio type ke kabhi nahi. Aur wah bhi apne shauq ke liye."

Pachhtava hua ki us waqt mera camera mere paas kyun nahi tha. Nahi to kuchh photos to tabhi nikale ja sakte the.

Maine kaha, "Mere paas lights nahi hain kyunki main natural tasveerein hi leta hun. Agar natural surroundings mein photo chahiye, park mein, kheton mein, to main kheench sakta hun. Studio photo aap Prem studio se kheenchva sakte ho, 400 rupye mein ek photo ban jata hai."

Use sujhaav pasand aaya. "Haan wahan se kheenchva lungi aur sath hi aap bhi kuchh photos nikaal dena."

Maine kaha ki main abhi kuchh kaamon mein vyast hun, agle hafte hum milne ka plan bana sakte hain.

"Theek hai, aap bata dena."

Uske pitaji is beech bhi kuchh nahi keh rahe the. Unhone Prenika se na hi chalne ko kaha aur na hi yeh poochha ki we ab kis baat ka intezar kar rahe hain. Hum baatein karte rahe. Wah apne call centre ke baare mein batane lagi. Kehne lagi ki ye naukri to bas aise hi hai, socha ki English ka accent achha ho jaega.

Aadhe ghante baad Mohit aa gaya. Hath mein Qua spring water ki chhoti khali bottle liye hue. Formal kapdon mein.

Prenika ne parichay karaya, "Papa, ye Mohit hai."
Namaste Uncle.
Namaste. Unhone ek majboori se paripoorn lehze mein namaste ka uttar diya. Waise yeh majboori unke chehre par sarvatha vidyamaan thi, ab aur gehri ho gayi.

"Aur bhai, tune kuchh khane-peene ka intezaam kiya ki nahi." Mohit ne mujhse poochha.

Tere baap ka flat hai na ye, harami ye dikhane ke liye 40 rupye ka paani peeta hun, hath mein khali bottle le kar aaya, kuchh samose, chowmein, ice-cream nahi la sakta tha kya. Maine mann hi mann kaha.

Mere kuchh kehne se pehle hi Prenika boli, "Are ye to tab se khila pila rahe hain. 2 round ho chuke hain chai ke. Bahut achhe se khayal rakha hai inhone."

Mujhe achha laga ki mujhe apne munh se yeh nahi kehna pada. "Kaho to main kuchh aur le aata hun khane ke liye. Pasta aur cold-drink chalegi?"

"Are nahi nahi, aap kyun taqleef le rahe ho?" Prenika ne kaha.
Is baat ka ek hi jawab sambhav hai ki is mein taqleef kaisi. Maine keh diya.
Phir Mohit saab sofe ki baanh par hath rakhte hue kehte hain ki haan, yeh theek rahega aur main cold-drink 2 litre ki hi le aaun. Sofe se thoda ukas kar usne apne purse ki taraf ishara karte hue kaha, "Paise dun kya?"

Chindichor! aajtak to isne kabhi kisi cheez ke liye khud se paise nahi diye. Aur itna hi paise wala ban raha hai to poochh kya raha hai, chup-chap se nikaal kar de kyun nahi deta.

Maine kaha ki nahi, theek hai.

"Kaunsi cold-drink lenge Uncle, koi khaas pasand, Pepsi, Mazaa, Fanta?" Maine nikalte hue poochh liya.

"Haan beta, mujhe ye kale wali pasand nahi hain, Mazaa le aana."

Jane uska baap bhi kis kism ka insaan tha, ek baar jhoothe hi keh deta ki beta, aap kyun pareshan ho rahe ho, aur la hi rahe ho to rupye le jao. Prenika achhi lagi mujhe, itne kam waqt mein hi dosti ka anubhav hone laga tha, isliye rupye kharch karne mein koi dikkat nahi thi. Wo dete bhi to main na leta, wo mere flat par mehmaan the. Par baat rupye ki nahi thi, baat aadmi ki neeyat ki thi. Aur Mohit ji ki chindichori se to main hamesha se hi waqif tha.

Khair, main 2 litre ki mazaa aur 2 packet Sunfeast pasta le aaya. Kitchen mein aa kar banane laga. Prenika ne poochha,
"Main kuchh help karun?"

"Haan, kyun nahi?"

Wah uthkar kitchen mein aa gayi, mere saamne khadi ho gai jaise mere nirdesh ki prateeksha mein ho. Maine kaha ki main bartan dho deta hun, tab tak wo burner par pateele mein rakhe pasta ko hilati rahe. Lekin usne kaha ki bartan wah dho degi. Bartan dhoti hui kehne lagi,

"Achha hai aapne bula liya mujhe."
"Pehli baat to ye ki mujhe aap mat kaho. Tum ya tu keh sakte ho."
"Ok, achha hai tune bula liya mujhe." Usne 'aap' ko 'tu' kar apni baat dohrai.
"Kyun?"
"Papa to....karte hi keval serious baatein hain. Unke sath sath wah bhi aise baat kar raha hai jaise do bade aadmi baat kar rahein ho. Main to itna bore ho rahi thi."

Maine ek pal uski taraf dekha aur muskura diya. Wah wapas muskurai.

"Achha chhodo, ye batao ki aapki koi girlfriend hai."
Usne jaise dukhti rag par pair rakh diya. bas ek-do logon ko hi pata tha ki ek hafte pehle mera break-up ho chuka hai. Final wala break-up. Iske baare mein maine kisi se zyada koi baat nahi karni chahi thi. Pichhle hafte jab Mohit mila tha, usne bhi poochha tha har baar ki tarah, "Aur bata, bhabhi kaisi hai?"

Maine bhi har baar ki tarah keh diya tha ki theek hai.  

"Kahan kho gaye? Itne se sawaal ka jawab dene ke liye itna kya sochna padta hai?"
"Nahi, kuchh nahi. Aise hi kuchh dimaag mein aa gaya tha....nahi hai girlfriend."
"Kya baat kar rahe ho? Aap jaise smart bande ki girlfriend na ho, ho hi nahi sakta."
Main thoda sa hansa. "Ye kya baat hui? Khair, waise girlfriend thi, par break-up ho gaya kuchh waqt pehle."
"Oh" Usne afsos jatate hue kaha. "Kyun, kya ho gaya? Aapne use chhod diya ya usne aapko?"
"Aapko?"
"Oh, mera matlab tujhe. Tumhein."

Wah is tarah bol rahi thi jaise har ek shabd kitna khaas ho, har ek shabd bolne mein ek ahtiyaat sa barat_ti thi. Uski aankhein bolne ke sath sath pal-pal mein sawal, vismay, khushi, muskaan aur anay bhaavon se bharti rehti. Apne sunhare baalon par baar-baar hath pherti rehti. Wah sach mein air hostess ban_ne ke layak thi. Us se bhi kahin zyada. Shayad ek model. Maine socha ki Mohit ko jane kahan mil gayi ye. Uske saamne wah sach mein lallu tha. Maine uski baat ka jawab dete hue kaha,

"Nahi, kisi ne kisi ko nahi chhoda."
Usne prashnatmak drishti se dekhte hue kaha, "To phir?"
"Phir...phir kuchh nahi. Ye keh lo ki waqt ne hamara sath chhod diya."
"Oye hoye, aap to bahut kamaal ki baatein karte ho."
Uski har baat par muskurana ho jata tha. "Kamaal ki baatein karne se kya hota hai? Khair meri chhodo, tum batao."

Pasta lagbhag ban chuka tha. Maine use plate se dhak diya aur burner ki aanch dheemi ki. Phir cold-drink ki bottle kholne laga. Usne gilaas utha kar mere paas rakh diye.

"Batao kya bataun."
"Kuchh bhi. Mohit ke sath kaisa chal raha hai sab?"
"Haan....sahi hai." Usne is qadar kaha ki jaise keh rahi ho ki kya chalna hai. Phir pateele se plate hata kar dekhte hue boli, "Ye ban gaya hai. Band kar dun?"
"Haan, ban gaya hai to kar do. Aur Plate mein daal lo. hath na jala lena apna."
"Mohit ka pata nahi kya hai, itna confused rehta hai. Kabhi kehta hai ki apni computer ki company kholunga, kabhi newspaper agency ki baat karta hai, kabhi kehta hai car modify karne ke liye workshop, to kabhi real estate. Uska aaj tak mujhe samajh hi nahi aaya ki use karna kya hai."

Tabhi Mohit bhi kitchen mein aa gaya. "Aur kya baat ho rahi hai."
"Tere hi baare mein baatein ho rahi thi."
Mujhe ajeeb laga ki hum 2 ladke yahan kitchen mein uske sath the, aur uske pitaji wahan akele baithe the. Maine pasta ki 2 platein uthayi aur unke saamne mez par rakh di. Baaki samaan we dono le aae.

Chalte waqt uske pitaji ne ek baar 'Shukriya' tak nahi kaha. Shukriya to chhodo, kuchh bhi nahi kaha. Uska aadhe ghante baad message aaya. "Tumne pehli baar milne par hi hamara itna khayal rakha. Thank you so much."

Maine kaha ki thank you ki is mein koi baat nahi, mujhe khushi hui.

Phir messages par har roz baatein hone lagi. forwarded messages, good morning, good night messages, kya kar rahe ho. Mujhe wah achhi lagne lagi thi. Lagta tha ki itni sundar shareef ladki kahan is chhichhore Mohit ke chakkar mein pad gayi. Kya guzregi uske dil par agar kabhi use uske sex episodes ke baare mein pata chala, jinki usne ginti bhi kar rakhi thi - 22, 25, 30... - jaise ki koi record bana raha ho. Facebook par kaise kaise status daalta hai - "ladkiyan bekar mein chehre sanwarne ke liye make-up mein itna rupya kharab karti hain, unhein pata nahi ki ladke pehle nazar kahan daalte hain.." Aur 30-35 logon ne ise LIKE bhi kiya hua, qareeban 25 ke comments, "Hahaha", "Kya sahi baat boli hai bhai", "Nice one".....Hufff.... Beemar...

Hafte bhar baad mujhe kaam ke silsile mein Indore jana tha. Maine use bataya to poochhne lagi ki kyun ja rahe ho, kab aaoge. Maine kaha ki hafte bhar ka kaam hai. Message aaya ki theek hai, apna khayal rakhna wahan, gum mat ho jana nae shehar mein, aur jaldi wapas aana. Kya wah bhi mujhe chahne lagi thi? Pata nahi, shayad. Paar haan, Uski ye chhoti-chhoti baatein, messages mein bheje hue bevkoofana jokes Sonia ke gam ko bhoolne mein bahut sahayak hue. Par ye kya sochne laga tha main? Wah dost ki girlfriend thi. Par na to main Mohit ko achha dost maanta tha, wah bhi bas pizza khane ya kaam aane par hi phone karta tha, aur waise bhi kya wah use dhokha nahi de raha tha. Kya mujhe use uske changul se chhudana nahi chahiye. Hahaha....jaise ki main ladkiyon ko aein waqt par bachane wala spiderman ho. Mann mein gudgudi hui yeh kalpana kar ki agar hum iqatte ho jate hain, to Mohit par kya guzregi. Jo Mohit khud ko itna bada Machoman samajhta hai, uska Machopana dhara reh jaega. Lekin nahi, himmat nahi hui baat aage badhane ki. Maana ki mera achha dost nahi tha, par dushman bhi to nahi tha. Kya iske baad main kabhi us se aankhein mila paunga? Ya kya khud se aankhein mila paunga? Bewafai ki neenv par to wafa ki imaratein nahi khadi ki ja sakti. Oye hoye, kya dialog aaya tha dimaag mein. Dil khush ho gaya, Wallah!

Maine messages karne band kar diye. Uska bhi koi message aata to main jawab mein bas ek smiley bana kar bhej deta. Dheere dheere messages aane kam ho gae, phir band ho gae. Band hone ka pata achanak nahi chala, bas 3-4 din tak koi message nahi aaya to ehsaas hua.

Indore se main wapas aa chuka tha. 2-3 hafte baad Mohit ka phone aaya. "Kya kar raha hai bhai?"
"Bas kuchh khaas nahi."
Us din usne yeh nahi kaha ki kabhi kuchh khaas bhi kar liya kar. "Qafi din ho gaye mile hue. Gurgaon aaun kya milne? Free hai?"
"Are main ghar aaya hua hun."
"Achha! ye to aur bhi sahi hai. Milte hain kahe to."
"Haan, theek hai. Aaja."
"Tu hi aaja na is taraf. Apne gym ke bahar milunga."

Main apni bike le kar wahan pahuncha. "Bata kahan chalein? Pizza kha kar aaein?"
"Nahi, ab kahan itni door jaenge. yehin kahin baithte hain."

Wah paidal tha. Meri bike par baith kar hum Monu paan wale ke paas ja kar ruk gae. Maine cigarette li, jalate hue mujhe dhyan aaya ki aaj wah kuchh chup hai.
"Kya ho gaya?"
"huh!" Wah khayalon se bahar aaya. Maine use pehle kabhi soch mein doobe hue nahi dekha tha. Achraj hua ki wah soch bhi sakta hai.

"Oye kya baat ho gayi, itna shant kaise hai?" Aaja park mein baithte hain."
Park mein baithne se pehle usne mujhe achanak se gale laga liya. Yeh bahut aswabhik tha par maine hairat zahir na hone di.
"Bhai Prenika chali gayi."
"Chali gayi? Kahan chali gayi?"
"Meri zindagi se chali gayi." Kuchh to is naye khulase ne aur kuchh uski gambheerta ne mujhe chaunka diya.
"Abe teri to...kyun, kaise? Kya ho gaya bhai aisa?"

"Use koi aur pasand aa gaya."
"Kya baat kar raha hai tu?" Mere munh se anayas nikal pada.
"Uske call centre mein ek banda hai. Us se setting ho gayi." usne aaah bharte hue bataya.
Hufff!
"Hadd hai yaar. Kahan to tu us se shaadi karne ki soch raha tha, aur...."
"Wahi to bhai. Aur pata nahi kya dekha usne us ladke mein?" Uske mathe par lakeerein kheench gayi, jaise kisi sawaal ka kai ghanton tak sochne par bhi uttar na mile. "Na uske paas car hai, na flat hai, aur kaisa sa dikhta hai saala."
"Tujhe kaise pata ki kaisa dikhta hai." Mujhe keh dene ke baad mehsoos hua ki is stithi mein yeh sawaal kitna mehtavheen hai.
"Abe mila hua hoon main us se. Ek baar uske call centre ke bahar us se milne gaya tha. Tab milvaya tha usne. Keh rahi thi ki mera achha dost hai." Phir uske mann mein koi baat aayi. Wah sochne ke liye zara ruka. "Waise sahi bataun, mujhe to us ladke ki bhi koi galti nahi lagti. Wo kya karega, phansa liye hoga use apne jaal mein. Mere baare mein pata nahi kya kuchh bola hoga. Wo to bechara ho gaya hoga emotional. Pachhtaega saala. Aisi ladki kisi ki nahi ho sakti."

Haan, jo ladki Mohit ki nahi ho sakti, wah kisi ki nahi ho sakti. Sochkar mann hi mann mein mujhe hansi aayi. Ek baat mann mein dohrayi ja rahi thi ki ise kehte hain prakriti ka insaaf. Itni ladkiyon se usne shaadi ke vaade kiye, unke dil tode, aaj iska dil toota to dekho chehre par padti jhaiyan. Phir laga ki kitna bada kameena hun main. Wah jaisa bhi hai, ab kitne dard mein hai, aur main hans raha hun. Mera thode na kuchh bigada hai usne. Use is tarah kabhi dekha nahi tha. Kitna aswabhavik sa tha ye sab. Maine uski taraf dekha. Wah gardan jhukae ghaas ki teeliyan tod raha tha. Uske liye dil mein hamdardi bhi mehsoos hui. Maine kaha ki aisi ladki ka chale jana hi behtar hai.
"Wah to mujh par bhi line maar rahi thi."
"Achha, sahi mein?"
"Haan mujhe to yehi laga. Phir maine to baat band hi kar di ki yaar, ye kya hai, dosti ki girlfriend hai, imaan bigadegi mera." Waise to mujhse koi galti nahi hui thi phir bhi main apna bacha-khucha apradhbodh saaf kar ke hans diya.
Wah bhi thoda sa hansa, jaise ki bas mera sath dene ke liye. "Wo thi hi aisi. Maine hi pehchan_ne mein galti kar di."

Phir maine use gale laga liya. Kaha ki zyada pareshan na ho.
Usne phir ek lambi aah bhari. Kaha ki ab theek hai. Jab bhi uski yaad aati hai, gym ja kar exercise karne lagta hun.
"gym wale ne bahut help ki yaar. Poochha mujhse ki kya hua, tu waise to itna chup nahi rehta, kuchh to baat hai. To phir maine use bata diya. Usne kaha ki tujhe jab bhi uski yaad aae, tu aa kar exercise karne lag ja. Tere liye har waqt khula hai gym. Jab mann kare tab aa."
"Hmm, sahi hai. Tabhi itni sahi body bann gayi hai teri pehle se." Maine uska mood achha karne ke liye kaha.

Wah bhi halke se muskura diya. Par aaj wah dhoort wali nahi, ek jatil muskaan. Phir bolne laga,
"Aur usne ek aisi baat samjhai na mujhe, jo sochkar sach mein bahut rahat mili."
Maine poochha kya.
"Usne mujhse poochha ki maze liye ki nahi. Maine kaha haan. To bola ki bas, phir kyun tension le raha hai. Khush reh, aur aa jaegi."
"Par tune to uske sath kuchh nahi kiya tha." Phir se beemari ka sankraman phailne laga. Uski ghatiya baat sunkar maine bhi ghatiya tafteesh karte hue kaha.
"Bhai jab us din aae the tere flat par, uske hafte bhar baad hum mile the. Wah ghar se call center ka bol kar nikli thi. Maine use car mein pick kiya, phir long drive par nikal gae murthal ki taraf paranthe khane. Phir aate hue wahin raste mein ek room le liya. Us din sab kuchh ho gaya tha." Girlfriend chali gayi. Is baat ka gam yeh sochkar mita ki usne 'maze' le liye the. Maana ki wah chali gayi thi, par uske baare mein is tarah baatein karna....  Khair, theek hai. Agar use isi tarah ki baat se sukoon milta hai, to mile.

Wah phir se chup ho gaya. ghaas ki teeliyan aur raftaar se todne laga. Phir jhatke se upar dekha, uski aankhon mein taish tha, mujhe dekh kar bola, "Bhai, par tujhe kya lagta hai ki main chhod dunga use. Abhi kuchh din ruk ja. Phir dekh. use phone karunga, phir se pyaar mein phasaunga, aur phir use chhodunga, tab use pata chalega."

Sach mein yeh uski eham par chot lagi thi. Tarantino ki film Kill Bill yaad ho aayi. Pyaar, bevafai, nafrat, gussa, badla. Par kya wah itna kuchh karega? Kisi ko dard pahunchane mein maza tabhi aata hai jab wah aapke liye kuchh mayne rakhta ho.

Maine kaha ki jane de, kyun apna khoon jalana, us se badle ke chakkar mein khud ki zindagi ke din kharab kyun karne. Par jaise usne baat suni hi nahi. Maine baat badalne ke liye kaha ki uski car kaisi chal rahi hai.

"Wapas de di us dost ko."
"Achha? Kya usne paise lauta diye the 31 tak?"
"Nahi, abhi tak nahi lautaye hain. Par lauta dega hafte bhar mein."
"To...?"
"Yaar mujhe laga ki bekar mein kyun dost ki majboori ka fayda uthana. Us waqt to uske liye le li thi. Ab wo to chali gayi, socha ki dost to phir bhi kabhi kaam aa jaega, us se kyun relation kharab karun?"
"Hmm. sahi kiya tune."

Hum kuchh der aur wahan baithe rahe. Maine kaha ki kabhi bhi pareshan ho to mujhe phone kar liya kare.

Uska phone agle ravivaar ko aaya. "Kya kar raha hai?"
"Bas yaar, aise hi. Kuchh khaas nahi."
"Kabhi kuchh khaas bhi kar liya kar. Aaja neeche khada hoon."

Hum Domino's gaye. Main utsak ki uski 'Kill Prenika' ki kahani kahan tak pahunchi, par wah to use is tarah bhool chuka tha jaise wah kabhi thi hi nahi. Pizza khate hue aur sprite peete hue mujhse kehne laga,

"Bhai....institute par padhne aati thi. Aise hi facebook par mil gayi ek din. Baat shuru ho gayi. Lily naam hai, us time to aisi hi normal si dikhti thi, kabhi dhyan bhi nahi gaya. Par ab to kya patakha ho gayi hai. tu dekhega to kahega ki kya solid maal hai. Aise .... uske .... hain. Maine McD's mein bulaya..... Style maar rahi thi khoob.... phir adventure island gae agle din.....tujhe to pata hai ki tere bhai ke liye kapde utarne mein had se had ek hafta lagta hai.....parson dost ke flat par le gaya......"

"Sahi hai..." Main hawa mein dekhte hue kehta hun, "Dekh Yo Mousi."
Hahaha....Hum bakwas chutkale par hanste hain.
Phir main budbudate hue kehta hun, "In saale Domino's walon ne apne pizza ka level bhi gira diya hai."