Meri behen ko gujre ek saal ho chuka tha.
Uska number maine delete nahi kiya. Karne ka socha bhi nahi. WhatsApp mein woh ab bhi meri list mein thi, sabse neeche, ek purani display picture ke saath jisme woh chhat pe khadi hai aur baal aankhon pe aa rahe hain. Us photo ke neeche likha tha: last seen ek saal pehle.
Us raat main so nahi paa rahi thi. Garmi thi, aur fan ki awaaz mein ek halki si khhat-khhat aa rahi thi jo har do minute baad aati thi. Maine phone uthaya sirf time dekhne ke liye.
2:14.
Aur usi waqt screen jagi.
Neha — aur neeche, typing.
Main hil nahi payi. Phone haath mein tha aur maine use rakha bhi nahi, bas dekhti rahi. Typing rukh gaya. Phir shuru hua. Phir rukh gaya.
Aur phir message aaya.
“Tu abhi tak jaag rahi hai?”
Meri saans ruk gayi.
Yeh woh line thi jo Neha mujhe roz bhejti thi. Har raat, jab main der tak padhti rehti thi aur woh doosre kamre se mera light dekh leti thi. Woh kabhi aakar nahi kehti thi. Bas yahi message bhejti thi. Do saal se maine yeh line kisi se nahi suni thi.
Maine type kiya: “Kaun hai?”
Do blue tick. Turant.
Phir typing. Bahut der tak typing.
Phir sirf ek shabd:
“Neha.”
Maine phone ulta karke bistar pe rakh diya aur uthkar khadi ho gayi. Kamre mein andhera tha aur main andhere mein khadi apne hi saans ki awaaz sun rahi thi. Mujhe pata tha yeh kya hai. Koi mazaak kar raha hai. Kisi ne number le liya hoga — companies purane number do saal baad kisi aur ko de deti hain, yeh sabko pata hai.
Par woh line.
“Tu abhi tak jaag rahi hai?”
Yeh line kisi naye banday ko kaise pata hogi.
Maine phone dobara uthaya. Haath kaanp raha tha aur maine dhyan diya ki main dheere type kar rahi hun, jaise awaaz ho jayegi.
“Agar tum Neha ho toh batao main kis cheez se darti thi jab hum chhote the.”
Typing.
Rukh gaya.
Typing.
Aur phir:
“Lift. Tu lift mein akeli nahi jaati thi. Papa ke saath bhi nahi.”
Main wahin farsh pe baith gayi.
Yeh baat duniya mein teen logon ko pata thi. Main, Mummy, aur Neha.
Aur Neha ek saal se zinda nahi thi.