Rohit chhat pe tha, phone pe, DJ wale se ladh raha tha.
Maine uska phone haath se le liya aur kaat diya.
“Didi, kya—”
“Baith.”
Woh baith gaya. Ekdum. Twenty-two saal ka ladka jo mujhse ek foot lamba hai, aur woh aise baith gaya jaise chhe saal ka ho.
Us se mujhe pata chal gaya ki usko sab pata hai.
“Kitne saal se?” maine poocha.
“Teen.”
“Aur tune mujhe nahi bataya.”
“Nahi bataya.”
“Kyun?”
Usne apne haath dekhe. “Kyunki jab maine padhe, tab tumhari Rohan se baat chal rahi thi. Aur tum khush thi.” Usne upar dekha. “Didi, sach mein khush thi. Main dekh raha tha. Teen saal se tum ghar mein waise nahi hansi thi jaise us saal hansi.”
“Toh tune decide kar liya.”
“Haan.” Usne aankh nahi churai, aur main chahti hoon ki churaayi hoti. “Maine decide kar liya. Wahi kiya jo Mummy ne kiya tha. Mujhe pata hai.”
Ab main sach mein gussa thi, aur gussa aisa tha jiska koi target nahi tha, jo sabse bura hota hai.
“Aur ab?” maine kaha. “Ab kyun? Teen din pehle kyun?”
“Maine nahi bheja.”
“Rohit—”
“Didi, kasam se. Maine nahi bheja.” Aur ab woh sach mein ghabraya hua tha. “Maine woh khat do mahine pehle de diye the.”
Meri saans ruk gayi. “Kisko?”
“Usko.”
Do mahine pehle Rohit Pune gaya tha, ek job interview ke liye. Woh interview nahi hua tha — company ne last minute cancel kar diya — aur woh ek din extra ruk gaya tha.
Woh Aakash se milne gaya tha.
“Tujhe uska pata kaise—”
“LinkedIn.” Usne kandha uchkaya, aur us waqt woh bilkul unnees saal ka lag raha tha. “Dhoondhna mushkil nahi tha.”
Woh ek cafe mein mile. Rohit ne bag se khat nikale aur mez pe rakh diye.
“Maine bola, ‘Yeh aapke hain. Ya theek se kahoon to, yeh unke hain, par aapko dene chahiye the.’”
“Aur usne?”
Rohit ruk gaya.
“Woh bahut der tak kuch nahi bola. Phir usne poochha ki tum theek ho.”
“Tune kya kaha?”
“Maine kaha haan. Maine kaha tumhari shaadi ho rahi hai.”
“Aur usne kya kaha?” maine poocha, aur mujhe jawab nahi chahiye tha.
“Usne kaha ‘achha’.” Rohit ne meri taraf dekha. “Bas. ‘Achha.’ Aur phir usne bill diya aur chala gaya.”
Maine chhat ki deewar pe haath rakha. Neeche gali mein tent wale plastic ki kursiyan utaar rahe the.
“Do mahine,” maine kaha. “Usne do mahine rakhe.”
“Haan.”
“Aur ab bheja.”
“Haan.”
Hum dono jaante the ki iska kya matlab hai. Aadmi do mahine kisi cheez ko rakhta hai, phir aapki shaadi se teen din pehle wapas karta hai — woh ek hi cheez kar raha hota hai.
Woh usko apne paas se hata raha hai.
Sham ko main apne kamre mein thi jab phone bajla. Unknown number.
Maine utha liya, aur pata tha. Pata mat poochho kaise. Pata tha.
Ring ki awaaz ke peeche koi announcement thi. Railway station. Ya airport.
Aur ek awaaz ne kaha — gyarah saal purani awaaz, thodi bhaari, thodi thaki:
“Meera. Main Pune se nahi bol raha. Main yahin hoon. Sirf ek baar baat karni hai, aur phir main chala jaunga.”