Neelu subah dus baje aayi. Usne bag rakha, Aarav ko gale lagaya, aur jab tak woh khelne nahi chala gaya tab tak kuch nahi kaha.
Phir hum kitchen mein baithe.
“Bhabhi, aapko pata hai Papa ji kaise gaye the?”
“Heart attack,” maine kaha. “Rajesh ne bataya tha.”
Neelu ne sar hilaya. Na mein.
“Factory mein accident hua tha. Boiler phata tha. Do log mare the.” Usne apne haath dekhe. “Papa ji, aur ek aur aadmi. Uska naam tha… Shankar. Shankar Yadav.”
“Rajesh ne mujhe kabhi—”
“Woh kisi ko nahi batata tha.” Neelu ki aankhein laal thi. “Bhabhi, jo baat hum kisi ko nahi batate woh yeh hai ki Papa ji ki galti thi. Unhone pressure valve check nahi kiya tha us din. Report mein aaya tha.”
Main kuch nahi boli.
“Us Shankar ji ka ek beta tha. Hamari umar ka. Chhe mahine bade the Rajesh se.” Neelu ne saans li. “Company ne kuch nahi diya unko. Kuch bhi nahi. Hamein pension mili, unko nahi, kyunki unka contract temporary tha.”
“Aur?”
“Aur woh log gaon chale gaye. Beta padhai chhod ke kaam pe lag gaya. Chaudah saal ka tha.”
Neelu ne mujhe dekha.
“Rajesh ne usko dhoondha tha. Bees saal baad. Jab uski job lagi thi Pune mein.” Uski awaaz tooti. “Usne mujhe bataya tha ek baar, sharaab peeke. Ki woh usko har mahine paise bhejta hai. Chupke se. Kisi ko pata nahi.”
Mere andar sab kuch thanda ho gaya.
“Rajesh usko paise bhejta tha?”
“Haan.”
“Kitne?”
Neelu ne mujhe dekha, aur mujhe jawab pata chal gaya uske bolne se pehle.
“Paanch hazaar. Har mahine ki paanch tareekh ko.”