Us raat ki baarish me kuch ajeeb sa bhari-pan tha, jaise badal sirf paani nahi balki barson se dabe hue raaz barsa rahe hon, aur usi bheeghi hui sadak par khadi thi ek purani imarat jiske darwaze par likha tha 'The Last Note', jahan meri mulaqat usse hui jo meri zindagi ka sabse khoobsurat khwaab aur sabse khatarnak sach banne wali thi—usne ek laal rang ki dress pehni thi jo us andheri sham me kisi dehkate hue angaare jaisi lag rahi thi, uski aankhon me ek aisi kashish thi jo sawal bhi puchti thi aur jawab dene se inkaar bhi karti thi, maine jab usse uska naam pucha toh wo sirf muskurayi aur us muskurahat me ek aisi khamoshi thi jo hazaron shabdon par bhari pad jaye, hum dono us cafè ke kone me baithe rahe jahan coffee ki khushbu aur baarish ki thandak ne ek ajeeb sa mahaul bana diya tha, wo baatein toh kar rahi thi lekin uski baaton me ek patterns tha, har baat ek mod par aakar ruk jati jaise wo mujhe kisi raaste par le ja rahi ho lekin manzil dikhana nahi chahti, phir achanak usne apna bag khola aur ek purani tasveer nikaali jisme ek dhundla chehra tha aur usne kaha ki kya tumne is shaks ko kabhi dekha hai, meri dhadkan tez ho gayi kyunki wo chehra mere bachpan ke us haadse se juda tha jise main bhulne ki koshish kar raha tha, lekin usse pehle ki main kuch bol pata wo uthi aur baarish me gayab ho gayi, sirf ek chota sa note chodd kar jis par likha tha 'piche mudkar mat dekhna', par insani fitrat toh wahi karne ki hoti hai jise mana kiya jaye, main uske piche bhaga lekin rasta sunsan tha, sirf ek purani ghadi ki awaaz aa rahi thi jo shayad waqt ke beetne ka nahi balki maut ke qareeb aane ka ishaara thi, agle din jab main us cafè gaya toh wahan koi cafè tha hi nahi, wo imarat barson se khali padi thi, logon ne kaha ki wahan 20 saal pehle ek maut hui thi ek aisi ladki ki jiska ishq adhura reh gaya tha, lekin mere paas toh uska wo note tha, wo ehsas tha uski thandi ungliyon ka, phir mujhe samajh aaya ki ye koi bhoot-pret ki kahani nahi hai balki ek aisi saazish hai jisme mujhe mohra banaya gaya hai, usne mujhe wahan bulaya tha taaki main us purani file tak pahunch saku jo mere pita ne chhupayi thi, wo ladki koi saaya nahi thi balki us dushman ki beti thi jise humne barson pehle mitti me mila diya tha, ishq toh sirf ek jaal tha, ek aisa attractive dhokha jo mujhe us andhere kamre tak le aaya jahan ab main band hoon aur samne wahi ladki baithe muskura rahi hai aur keh rahi hai ki 'kuch ishq mukammal hone ke liye nahi, badla lene ke liye hote hain', aur ab is 3000 shabdon ki dastan me sirf ek baat saaf hai ki mohabbat me suspense tabhi tak hai jab tak aap zinda hain, kyunki jis din parda uthega us din ya toh sirf maut hogi ya phir ek naya dhokha, aur main aaj bhi uski laal dress ki chamak me khud ko jalta hua dekh raha hoon, har pal har lamha usi ek sawaal ke sath ki kya wo mujhse kabhi sach me pyar karti thi ya main sirf uski shatranj ki ek chaal tha jo ab maat kha chuka hai.
Us band kamre ki ghutan aur uski kaatilana muskurahat ke beech ek aisi khamoshi thi jo mere kaano me seeti ki tarah goonj rahi thi, usne dheere se mere kareeb aakar mere kaan me phusphusaya ki 'khel toh ab shuru hua hai', aur tabhi mujhe ehsaas hua ki uske hath me jo chaku tha wo sirf ek hathiyar nahi balki us purani dushmani ka aakhri nishaan tha jo mere khandan ne shuru ki thi, lekin meri aankhon me darr dekhne ki jagah usne ek ajeeb sa junoon dekha kyunki main jaanta tha ki usne mujhe maara nahi hai toh zaroor koi gehra raaz hai jo abhi khulna baaki hai, achanak usne kamre ki ek deewar par lage purane parde ko hataya aur wahan ek bada sa blackboard tha jis par meri zindagi ke har ek din ka hisaab likha tha, kab main kahan gaya, kisse mila, yahan tak ki meri wo diary jo maine bachpan me kho di thi wo bhi wahan rakhi thi, meri rooh kaanp gayi ye dekh kar ki main kabhi azaad tha hi nahi, main toh uski nigrani me ek khilauna tha, usne bataya ki uske baap ki maut us raat nahi hui thi jab mere pita ne goli chalayi thi balki wo aaj bhi zinda hai aur is poore khel ka asli director wahi hai, tabhi darwaza khula aur ek saya andar dakhil hua jisne ek purana mask pehna tha, usne jab mask utara toh mere hosh udd gaye kyunki wo koi aur nahi balki wahi cafè ka manager tha jo mujhe coffee pilate waqt muskurata tha, usne kaha ki 'mohabbat me qurbani deni padti hai aur tumhari qurbani se hamara khoya hua samrajya wapas aayega', lekin jaise hi usne mujh par waar karne ke liye hath uthaya, us ladki ne—jise main dushman samajh raha tha—apne hi baap ki peeth me ek khanjar utar diya aur kamre me sirf ek dardnak cheekh goonji, wo mere paas aayi, mere bandhan khole aur rote hue kaha ki 'main tumhe bachane ke liye ye sab kar rahi thi, mujhe maaf kar do', hum dono us khooni imarat se bahar bhage, baarish ab bhi tez thi lekin is baar wo dhone ke liye nahi balki sab kuch mita dene ke liye baras rahi thi, humne ek purani gaadi li aur shehar se door nikal gaye lekin suspense ab bhi khatam nahi hua tha, gaadi chalate waqt maine uske bag me wahi purana note dekha jo usne cafè me chhoda tha lekin uske piche ab ek naya sandesh likha tha: 'agla number tumhara hai', maine uski taraf dekha aur usne meri taraf, dono ki aankhon me wahi purani kashish thi par ab usme maut ki thandak bhi mil chuki thi, kya ye uska naya jaal tha ya mera naya weham, ye toh waqt hi batayega lekin ab hum dono ek aise raaste par hain jahan mod toh bahut hain par manzil koi nahi.Gaadi ki speed 100 ke paar thi, lekin kamre ke andar ki khamoshi usse bhi zyada tez raftaar se mujhse sawal pooch rahi thi. Maine rearview mirror mein uski aankhon ko dekha—wahi masoomiyat, lekin unke peeche ek gehra sannata tha.
"Tumne yeh note dekha?" Maine dheere se pucha, mere hath steering wheel par kaanp rahe the.
Usne gaadi ki khidki se bahar dekhte hue ek thandi saans bhari aur kaha, "Kuch sawal aise hote hain jinka jawaab milte hi insaan ki ehmiyat khatam ho jati hai. Kya tum waakai jaanna chahte ho?"
Raaz Ka Agla Panna
Achanak usne gaadi ka radio on kar diya. Static ke beech ek purani recording goonjne lagi. Woh mere pita ki awaaz thi, jo barson pehle ki lag rahi thi: "Galti dushmani shuru karne mein nahi, usey adhura chhodne mein thi."
Meri rooh kaanp gayi. Usne meri taraf mudkar ek dardnak muskurahat di aur kaha, "Mere baap ko tumhare pita ne nahi mara tha, yeh sach hai. Par tumhare pita ko kisne maara, kya tumne kabhi yeh socha?"
Ek Naya Mod
Shehar ki roshniyan peeche chhoot chuki thi aur hum ek sunsaan pahadi raste par the. Usne bag se ek chhota sa remote nikala aur gaadi ke dashboard par rakha.
Pehla Khulasa: Woh cafè manager sirf ek mohra tha. Asli khel toh us 'samrajya' ka hai jo kabhi khatam hi nahi hua tha.
Doosra Jhatka: Us ladki ne apne baap ko isliye nahi mara kyunki woh mujhe bachana chahti thi, balki isliye kyunki woh khud us gaddi par baithna chahti thi jiske liye uske baap ne saari umar intezar kiya.
"Tumhe kya laga?" Usne mere kandhe par hath rakha, "Main tumhe bachane ke liye itni door aayi hoon? Nahi, main tumhe us jagah le ja rahi hoon jahan tumhare khandan ne woh khazana chhupaya tha jise pane ke liye mere baap ne apni zindagi haar di."
Anjaani Manzil
Gaadi ek purane, khandahar numa bungalow ke samne ruki. Baarish ab toofani roop le chuki thi. Usne apni jeb se wahi purana chaku nikala—wahi jis par mere khandan ka nishaan tha—aur usey mere gale par tika diya.
"Ab faisla tumhara hai," usne mere kaan mein phusphusaya, "Dushman bankar marna hai, ya saathi bankar raaj karna hai? Kyunki is note ka matlab yeh nahi tha ki main tumhe maarungi... iska matlab tha ki agli baari tumhari hai, is takht ko sambhalne ki."Main ab ek aise mod par khada tha jahan maut aur takht ke beech ka farq khatam ho gaya tha. Kya main us par bharosa kar sakta tha, ya yeh uske jaal ka aakhri aur sabse khatarnak hissa tha?
To Be continued in the next chapter for opening suspense read next chapter