Parda-e-Khilwat

Mujhe pata hai ke woh mujhe dekh raha hai. Aur mujhe pata hai ke usse pata nahi ke main dekh rahi hoon ke woh mujhe dekh raha hai. Yeh ek ajeeb si chess ki game hai jo hum roz khelte hain, sirf hum dono ke liye, bina kisi rules ke, bina kisi winner ke.

Main kitchen counter par khari hoon, breakfast ke baad ke bartan dho rahi hoon. Pani garam hai, mere haathon ko jalata hua. Soap bubbles phoot rahe hain mere haathon ke beech. Aur woh. Woh sofa par baitha hai, mere peechhe, apni morning newspaper ke saath. But I know his eyes aren't on the newsprint.

Main ne suna hai ke jab koi aapko dekh raha hota hai to aap ki gurdan mein ek feel hoti hai. Aaj kal to yeh cheezain scientific bhi ho gayi hain. Peripheral vision ka kamaal. But mere liye, yeh ek sense hai jo main ne develop ki hai. Ek radar. Ek Daddy Radar.

“Madiha, chai garam hai?”

Uski awaaz. Deep. Thodi si rough. Jaise abhi abhi neend se utha ho. Lekin woh subah 7 baje uth chuka hai, apni 2 kilometer ki walk kar chuka hai, fresh ho chuka hai. Phir bhi awaaz mein woh neend ka sa rang. Hamesha.

“Garam hai, Daddy. Aap apni newspaper chhodiye, chai pee lijiye.”

Main ne usse dekha nahi. But main ne suna. Woh newspaper fold karta hai. Uthta hai. Uski chappalon ki awaaz. Slip. Slip. Slip. Floor par. Woh kitchen mein aata hai, mere right side par.

“Tum ne khud nahi pi?”

“Nahi, pehle aap.”

Yeh humari daily routine hai. Yeh ek dance hai. Ek waltz jismein koi music nahi hai. Sirf humari saansain aur bartanon ki khanak.

Woh apna mug uthata hai. Main ne uske liye garam paani daala hai, uski pasand ki patti, adrak ka ek tukra. Woh hamesha kehta hai ke main uski chai duniya ki best banati hoon. Main kehti hoon, “Daddy, aap ne duniya ki kitni chaiyan pi hain?” Woh kehta hai, “Bohot. Lekin teri jaisi koi nahi.”

Aaj woh chai pi raha hai. Main bartan dho rahi hoon. Aur main jaan bujh kar apni kameez ka ek button khula chhod rahi hoon. Woh button jo main ne aaj subah hi khula tha. Woh button jo mujhe pata hai ke woh dekhega.

Yeh sab kuch itna natural lagta hai. Itna innocent. Jaise hum dono ke beech mein kuch nahi hai. Jaise woh sirf mera Daddy hai, aur main sirf uski beti. Aur hum sirf do log hain jo ek chote se ghar mein rehte hain, saath mein kaam karte hain, saath mein khana khate hain.

Lekin hum dono jante hain. Kuch toh hai.

Woh 38 saal ka hai. Main 22. Jab main choti thi, woh mera hero tha. Woh mujhe school chhodta tha, mere homework mein help karta tha, mujhe ice cream dilata tha. Lekin ab. Ab woh mera hero nahi raha. Ab woh aur kuch hai. Aur main nahi jaanti ke woh kya hai. Lekin main jaanna chahti hoon.

“Madiha, aaj tumhara koi plan hai?”

Main ne bartan band kar diye. Pani band kiya. Apne haath towel par ponchhe. Phir uski taraf muddi.

“Nahi Daddy. Aaj Sunday hai. Ghar hi rahungi.”

Woh mujhe dekh raha hai. Uski aankhen. Gehri bhooree. Jaise coffee ke daane. Uski moustache thodi si badh gayi hai. Usne aaj shave nahi ki. Aur uski white shirt. Woh shirt jo usne raat ko pehni thi, soya nahi, bas sofa par gir gaya tha. Ab woh shirt thodi si crumpled hai. Aur uske do button khule hain. Main dekh sakti hoon uski chest ka ek hissa. Woh hair. Thode se. Grey. Umar ke nishaan.

Main ne apni nazar hata li. Lekin bohot der baad.

“Accha. Toh main bazaar jaunga. Kuch lana hai?”

“Haan. Aap laayein. Jo aapka dil chahe.”

Woh muskuraya. Ek simple smile. Lekin us smile ke peeche main kuch aur dekh sakti hoon. Ek hesitation. Ek confusion. Jaise woh soch raha ho ke main kyun itni sweet hoon aaj. Ya shayad woh soch raha ho ke main kyun itni sweet hoon har roz.

Woh bazaar gaya. Main ghar mein akeli. Yeh ghar. Chota sa. Ek drawing room, ek kitchen, ek bathroom, do bedrooms. Lekin hum mostly drawing room mein rehte hain. Woh sofa par, main floor par. Ya main sofa par, woh floor par. Kabhi kabhi hum ek dusre ke paas baithte hain, TV dekhte hain, koi movie. Lekin humare beech mein hamesha ek gap hota hai. Ek invisible line. Woh line jo main todna chahti hoon. Lekin dheere dheere. Aaj nahi. Kal nahi. Lekin kisi din.

Main ne apna phone uthaya. Instagram scroll kiya. Kuch nahi tha. Phir main ne apne kapde dekhe. Aaj maine ek loose kurta pehna tha. Light blue. Uski pasand ka colour. Aur uske neeche. Kuch nahi. Sirf panty. Koi bra nahi. Main jaanti hoon ke woh dekhega. Aur main chahti hoon ke woh dekhe.

Lekin woh itna shareef hai. Itna masoom. Woh kabhi kuch nahi kahega. Kabhi kuch nahi karega. Agar main uske saamne nangi bhi khari ho jaun, woh apni aankhen band kar lega aur keh dega, “Madiha, jaake kapde pehen.”

Yeh cheez mujhe pagal karti hai. Uski yeh sharaafat. Uski yeh seedha saadha pan. Lekin ek taraf, yeh mujhe aur bhi attract karti hai. Kyunki main jaanti hoon ke andar kuch aur hai. Woh jo woh dikhana nahi chahta. Woh jo woh daba ke rakhta hai. Woh aag. Woh jo ek din phategi.

Aaj main ne decide kiya ke main usse aur tang karungi. Aur tang karungi. Jab tak woh tut na jaaye. Jab tak woh mujhe apni baahon mein na le. Lekin aaj nahi. Kal nahi. Lekin kisi din.

Woh wapas aaya. Uske haath mein ek bag thi. Sabziyan, phal, kuch snacks. Maine usse bag liya aur kitchen mein rakh diya. Woh sofa par baith gaya. Apni chappal utaari. Apne pair phailaye. Aur aankhen band kar li.

Main ne usse dekha. Uski pant. Cotton ki. Loose. Aur usmein. Woh. Woh cheez jo main dekhna chahti hoon. Lekin woh dekh nahi sakta. Woh so raha hai. Ya sohne ka natak kar raha hai.

Main ne apna phone uthaya aur uske paas baith gayi. Floor par. Uske pairon ke paas. Main ne uski pant ka lower part dekha. Woh thoda sa upar chal gaya tha. Aur main dekh sakti thi. Uski tang. Uski strong tang. Upar tak. Lekin woh so raha tha.

Main ne apna haath badhaya. Bohot dheere se. Jaise main kuch aur kar rahi hoon. Jaise main apna phone adjust kar rahi hoon. Lekin mera haath uski tang ko chhoota. Woh hila. Ek jhatka. Lekin woh nahi utha.

Main ne apna haath wapas le liya. Dil dhak dhak kar raha tha. Yeh sab kuch itna wrong tha. Lekin itna right bhi. Main jaanti hoon ke yeh galat hai. Lekin main nahi rok sakti. Yeh ek aisi cheez hai jo mujhe control nahi kar sakti.

Woh utha. Aankhen kholi. Mujhe dekha. Phir muskuraya.

“Madiha, tum ne kuch kaha?”

“Nahi Daddy. Main bas aapko dekh rahi thi.”

“Kyun?”

“Kyunki aap bohot cute lag rahe ho.”

Woh hass pada. Ek innocent hansi. Lekin main dekh sakti thi ke uski aankhon mein kuch aur tha. Ek chamak. Jo woh chhupana chahta tha.

“Tum toh hamesha yahi kehti ho.”

“Kyunki aap hamesha aise hi lagte ho.”

Woh utha. Kitchen mein gaya. Pani piya. Phir wapas aaya. Mere paas. Khara ho gaya. Mujhe neeche se upar dekha. Uski aankhen meri aankhon se mili. Phir woh neeche gaya. Meri kurta par. Woh button jo main ne khula chhoda tha. Woh dekh raha tha.

Main ne kuch nahi kaha. Bas use dekhti rahi. Woh apni nazar hata nahi pa raha tha. Jaise uski aankhen bandh gayi hain. Jaise woh kisi magic mein hai.

Phir woh apna haath badhaya. Bohot dheere se. Uski ungliyan meri kurta ke button tak pahunchi. Usne woh button band kar diya. Ek simple act. Lekin us act mein kitna kuch tha. Kitna control. Kitni sharaafat. Kitna pyaar.

“Madiha, tumhare kapde theek nahi hain.”

Main ne uski aankhon mein dekha. Uski aankhon mein main ne dekha. Woh dar. Woh confusion. Woh pyaar. Sab kuch.

“Daddy, aap kyun nahi kehte ke main aapko pasand hoon?”

Woh tham gaya. Uski aankhen bada hui. Uski saans ruk gayi. Phir woh bola.

“Madiha, tum meri beti ho.”

“Main aapki beti nahi hoon. Main aapki beti jaisi hoon. Lekin main aapki beti nahi hoon.”

Yeh sach tha. Woh mera real daddy nahi tha. Woh mera step-daddy tha. Jab main 15 saal ki thi, meri ammi ki shaadi usse hui thi. Phir do saal baad ammi ka accident mein inteqaal ho gaya. Aur woh. Woh mujhe chhod kar nahi gaya. Woh mere saath raha. Mujhe pala. Mujhe bada kiya. Aur ab. Ab main 22 saal ki hoon. Aur main usse chahti hoon. Us tarah. Jo ek beti ko nahi chaahna chahiye.

Woh mujhe dekh raha tha. Uski aankhon mein main dekh sakti thi ke woh soch raha hai. Woh soch raha hai ke main sahi hoon. Woh soch raha hai ke main galat hoon. Woh soch raha hai ke yeh theek hai. Woh soch raha hai ke yeh galat hai. Woh soch raha hai. Aur kuch nahi soch raha hai.

“Madiha, tum bohot choti ho. Tum nahi jaanti tum kya chahti ho.”

“Main jaanti hoon Daddy. Main jaanti hoon. Aur aap bhi jaante hain. Lekin aap maan nahi rahe.”

Woh mera haath pakad kar sofa par baith gaya. Usne mujhe apne paas bithaya. Uske haath mere haathon par. Uski ungliyan meri ungliyon mein. Woh mera haath daba raha tha. Jaise woh kuch kehna chahta hai. Lekin nahi keh pa raha.

“Madiha, sun. Yeh cheezain simple nahi hain. Yeh bohot complicated hain. Tumhari umar hai. Tumhari zindagi hai. Tumhe apne liye kuch accha chahiye. Koi tumhare umar ka. Koi jo tumhe samjhe. Koi jo tumhare saath ho.”

“Lekin main aapko chahti hoon. Aap mujhe samajhte hain. Aap mere saath hain. Aur aap mere umar ke nahi hain. Lekin main aapko chahti hoon.”

Woh chup tha. Uski aankhen band thi. Uski saansain bhari thi. Jaise woh kuch daba raha hai. Jaise woh kuch rok raha hai.

“Daddy, main aapko tang karungi. Har roz. Har waqt. Jab tak aap maan nahi jaate.”

Woh aankhen kholi. Mujhe dekha. Phir muskuraya. Lekin uss smile mein woh innocence nahi thi. Uss smile mein kuch aur tha. Kuch dark. Kuch intense. Kuch jo main ne kabhi nahi dekha tha.

“Madiha, tumhe pata hai ke main bohot zyada control karta hoon?”

“Pata hai.”

“Agar main ek baar control kho diya, toh wapas nahi aaunga.”

“Toh aap control kho dijiye.”

Woh utha. Bedroom mein gaya. Darwaza band kar diya. Main akeli rah gayi. Drawing room mein. Sofa par. Uske haath ki garmi abhi bhi mere haathon mein thi.

Main ne apni kurta ka button phir se khola. Woh button jo usne band kiya tha. Phir main ne apna phone uthaya. Kuch dekha. Lekin kuch dikha nahi. Mera dimaag uske saath tha. Bedroom mein. Uski thoughts ke saath. Uski feelings ke saath.

Woh andar kya kar raha hai? Woh soch raha hai? Woh apne aap se lad raha hai? Woh mujhe chahta hai? Woh nahi chahta? Woh kya chahta hai?

Main ne uth kar bedroom ke darwaze tak gaya. Haath uthaya. Knock karna chahti thi. Lekin haath ruk gaya. Kya kahungi? Kya karungi? Agar woh darwaza khol de toh? Agar woh mujhe andar bula le toh? Agar woh. Woh. Kuch kar le toh?

Main ne haath wapas le liya. Wapas aayi. Sofa par baith gayi. TV on kiya. Kuch show chal raha tha. Lekin main dekh nahi rahi thi. Main sirf sun rahi thi. Bedroom ka darwaza. Woh kab khulega. Woh kab bahar aayega.

20 minute baad darwaza khula. Woh bahar aaya. Uski shirt badal gayi thi. Uski pant bhi. Woh fresh ho gaya tha. Lekin uski aankhen. Woh aankhen ab bhi waisi hi thi. Woh aankhen jo mujhe dekh rahi thi. Lekin ab unmein kuch aur tha. Kuch naya. Kuch jo main ne kabhi nahi dekha.

“Madiha, chai banao.”

“Haan Daddy.”

Main uthi. Kitchen mein gayi. Pani garam kiya. Patti daali. Adrak daali. Chai banayi. Lekin mera dimaag wahan nahi tha. Mera dimaag us bedroom mein tha. Uski thoughts mein. Uski feelings mein.

Woh sofa par baitha tha. Newspaper uthaya. Lekin main dekh sakti thi ke woh padh nahi raha. Woh sirf dekh raha tha. Kuch soch raha tha. Kuch plan kar raha tha.

Main ne chai uske saamne rakh di. Phir main wapas kitchen mein gayi. Bartan dho diye. Kitchen saaf kiya. Sab kuch theek kiya. Phir main wapas drawing room mein aayi.

Woh chai pi raha tha. Newspaper abhi bhi uske haath mein thi. Lekin uski aankhen mujh par thi. Main sofa par baith gayi. Uske saamne. Floor par. Uske pairon ke paas.

“Daddy, aap gussa ho?”

“Nahi, Madiha. Main gussa nahi hoon.”

“Toh aap kyun chup hain?”

“Main soch raha hoon.”

“Kya soch rahe hain?”

Woh neeche jhuka. Apna haath mere sar par rakha. Mere baalon mein ungliyan daali. Bohot dheere se. Bohot pyaar se. Phir woh bola.

“Main soch raha hoon ke tum sahi ho.”

Mera dil ruk gaya. Saans ruk gayi. Main ne uski aankhon mein dekha. Uski aankhon mein sach tha. Uski aankhon mein woh tha jo main chahti thi.

“Daddy.”

“Chup. Kuch mat bolo. Bas suno.”

Main ne apna moonh band kar liya. Uski ungliyan mere baalon mein thi. Uski aankhen meri aankhon mein thi. Aur uska moonh. Woh bol raha tha.

“Madiha, main tumse bohot zyada pyaar karta hoon. Lekin woh pyaar jo ek baap apni beti se karta hai. Woh pyaar jo ek insaan doosre insaan se karta hai. Lekin tum. Tum mujhe woh pyaar nahi dena chahti. Tum mujhe kuch aur dena chahti ho. Aur main. Main nahi jaanta ke main woh le sakta hoon ya nahi.”

“Daddy, aap le sakte hain. Aap le sakte hain. Main aapko dunga. Sab kuch.”

“Lekin Madiha, yeh galat hai. Yeh society mein galat hai. Yeh logon ki nazar mein galat hai. Yeh. Yeh mere liye galat hai.”

“Lekin aap ke liye galat kyun hai? Agar hum dono chahte hain, toh koi galat nahi hai.”

Woh chup tha. Uski ungliyan mere baalon mein ruk gayi. Uski aankhen meri aankhon se mili. Phir woh bola.

“Madiha, tum mujhe time do. Mujhe sochne ka time do. Main tumhe jawab dunga. Lekin abhi nahi. Abhi main ready nahi hoon.”

Main ne uski baat maan li. Uski ungliyan mere baalon se hata di. Woh utha. Apna mug uthaya. Kitchen mein gaya. Chai aur daali. Phir wapas aaya. Sofa par baith gaya. Newspaper uthaya. Aur phir se padhne laga.

Lekin main dekh sakti thi ke woh padh nahi raha. Woh soch raha tha. Woh soch raha tha ke mujhe kya jawab dena hai. Woh soch raha tha ke woh mujhe kab jawab dega. Woh soch raha tha ke woh mujhe kya dega.

Main ne bhi apna phone uthaya. Kuch scroll kiya. Lekin mera dimaag wahan nahi tha. Mera dimaag uske saath tha. Uski thoughts mein. Uski feelings mein. Uski decision mein.

Shaam ho gayi. Aaj humne khaana nahi banaya. Bahar se order kar liya. Pizza. Hum dono ne saath mein khaya. TV dekha. Koi movie thi. Lekin hum dono dekh nahi rahe the. Hum dono soch rahe the. Ek dusre ke baare mein.

Raat ko jab woh so gaya, main uske bedroom mein gayi. Uski neend dekh rahi thi. Uski saansain sun rahi thi. Uski chest upar neeche ho rahi thi. Woh so raha tha. Lekin uski neend mein bhi woh mujhe dekh raha tha. Main jaanti hoon.

Main ne uske moonh ko dekha. Uski moustache. Uski lips. Uski aankhen jo band thi. Uski forehead. Woh sab kuch. Main ne uske sar par haath rakha. Bohot dheere se. Uske baalon mein ungliyan daali. Woh hila. Lekin nahi utha.

Main ne jhuk kar uske moonh ko chuma. Bohot dheere se. Bohot halka sa. Woh chumma jo main ne kabhi nahi liya tha. Lekin woh chumma jo main lena chahti thi. Woh utha nahi. Lekin main jaanti hoon ke usne mehsoos kiya. Uski lips thodi si hili. Jaise woh jawab de raha ho.

Main wapas apne bedroom mein aayi. Darwaza band kiya. Apni aankhen band ki. Uski tasveer mere dimaag mein thi. Uski awaaz mere kano mein thi. Uski khushbu mere aas paas thi.

Aaj main ne kuch kiya. Aaj main ne usse bataya ke main kya chahti hoon. Aaj main ne usse bataya ke main kya karungi. Aur ab. Ab woh soch raha hai. Woh soch raha hai ke mujhe kya jawab dena hai.

Main wait karungi. Main wait kar sakti hoon. Kyunki main jaanti hoon ke woh mera hoga. Woh mera hoga. Ek din. Kisi din. Zaroor.

Aur jab woh mera hoga. Tab. Tab main use woh sab dunga jo main ne kabhi kisi ko nahi diya. Tab main use woh sab dikhaungi jo main ne kabhi kisi ko nahi dikhaya. Tab main use woh sab karungi jo main ne kabhi kisi se nahi karaya.

Lekin abhi. Abhi main wait karungi. Kyunki woh time leta hai. Woh sochta hai. Woh decide karta hai. Aur main. Main uska decision accept karungi. Chahe woh kuch bhi ho.

Lekin ek cheez main jaanti hoon. Woh mujhe chahta hai. Woh mujhe chahta hai utna hi jitna main use chahti hoon. Lekin woh darta hai. Woh society se darta hai. Woh logon se darta hai. Woh khud se darta hai.

Aur main. Main kisi se nahi darti. Main sirf usse darti hoon. Kyunki woh mujhe chhod kar ja sakta hai. Woh mujhe akela chhod sakta hai. Aur woh. Woh sab kuch hai mere paas.

Main ne apni aankhen kholi. Uski tasveer abhi bhi mere dimaag mein thi. Uski awaaz abhi bhi mere kano mein thi. Uski khushbu abhi bhi mere aas paas thi.

Main ne apna phone uthaya. Usse ek message likha.

“Daddy, main aapko bohot zyada chahti hoon. Good night.”

Phir main ne phone rakh diya. Aankhen band ki. Aur sochne lagi. Uski baat. Uski aankhen. Uski ungliyan. Uski lips. Sab kuch.

Woh mera hoga. Ek din. Kisi din. Zaroor.