Silent Sacrifice

Garmi ki chuttiyan shuru hui thi aur mere liye narak ka darwaza khul gaya tha.

Maa ne subah saat baje chai banayi, poha banaya, aur mere sar pe haath pher ke kaha, "Papa ko jaana hai site pe, tu ghar ka dhyaan rakhna." Main solah saal ka tha. Solah saal ki umar mein ladka ghar ka dhyaan nahi rakhta, wo bas apne kamre mein band rehta hai, phone mein ghusa rehta hai, aur maa ki aawaz ko background noise samajhta hai. Par us subah kuch alag tha. Papa ne apna bag uthaya, maa ke maathe pe kiss kiya (jo unhone kabhi humare saamne nahi kiya tha), aur darwaza band ho gaya.

Ghar mein sirf do log bache. Main aur meri maa.

Wo tees saal ki thi. Ya battees. Mujhe theek se yaad nahi. Umar ka hisaab mujhe kabhi samajh nahi aaya. Par uski body ka hisaab mujhe pata tha, aur ye baat mujhe us din se pehle bhi pata thi, bas maine khud ko jhoot bola tha. Bahut jhoot bola tha. Raat ko leta rehta tha aur deewar ki taraf dekh ke sochta tha ki ye galti hai, ye gandi baat hai, isko dimaag se nikaal de. Par dimaag sunta kahan hai? Dimaag toh apni marzi ka maalik hota hai.

Maa ne kitchen saaf kiya. Main hall mein baitha TV chala raha tha. Kuch bhi nahi chal raha tha, bas channel badal raha tha. Ek channel pe gaana, dusre pe news, teesre pe serial. Uski aawaz aati thi kitchen se, bartan dhone ki, paani ki, chappal ki. Aur main us aawaz ko sun raha tha jaise koi raag ho. Ye bhi galti thi. Sab kuch galti thi.

"Khana kha lega ya main laga doon?" usne poocha, kitchen ke darwaze se sar nikaal ke. Uske baal khule the. Garmi thi, toh usne dupatta utaar diya tha. Sirf ek cotton kurti pehni thi, neeli, jisme uski body ka shape saaf dikh raha tha. Maine nazar hatayi.

"Haan, laga do."

"Kitna?"

"Jitna deti hai."

Wo muskurai. Wo muskurahat. Maine dekha aur phir TV ki taraf dekh liya. Us muskurahat mein kuch tha jo mujhe andar se hilata tha, aur main nahi chahta tha hilna.

Khana khaya. Dono ne. Saath mein. Wo mere saamne baithi thi, roti tod rahi thi, apni plate se sabzi utha rahi thi, aur beech beech mein mujhe dekhti thi. "Aaj kal tu chup chup rehta hai. Kuch baat hai?"

"Kuch nahi."

"Exam ka tension?"

"Haan."

"Toh padhna. Phone chhodo."

"Padh raha hoon."

Wo hansi. "Jhooth mat bol. Raat ko do baje tak phone chalata hai. Mujhe pata hai."

Mere haath se roti gir gayi. Kaise pata hai? Darwaza band tha. Light off thi. Screen ki roshni bahar nahi jaati. Par maa ko sab pata hota hai, ye maine suna tha, aur ab samajh bhi liya.

"Toh kya dekhta hai itni raat tak?" usne poocha. Normal sawaal. Normal tone. Par mere andar kuch ulta ho gaya.

"Kuch nahi. Videos."

"Kaunsi videos?"

"Bas... YouTube."

Usne kuch nahi kaha. Bas apni roti todti rahi. Aur main sochta raha ki kya usne dekh liya hai. Kya usne kabhi mere phone ko chhua hai jab main soya tha. Kya usne wo history dekhi hai jo maine delete kar di thi. Delete toh kar di thi. Par kya delete hone ke baad bhi kuch reh jaata hai? Phone mein, aur dimaag mein?

Khana khatam hua. Wo uthi, plate uthayi, aur sink ke paas gayi. Main peeche se dekhta raha. Uski kamar. Uske kandhe. Uske baal jo kamar tak aate the. Garmi mein wo thodi pasina thi, aur pasine ki mehak ajeeb thi, jaise phoolon wali, jaise sabun wali, par uske neeche kuch aur bhi tha. Kuch jo sirf main mehsoos kar sakta tha aur koi nahi.

"Main thodi der so jaungi," usne kaha. "Dopahar ki garmi mein neend aati hai. Tu jaagna, koi aaye toh bata dena."

"Haan."

Wo apne kamre mein gayi. Darwaza band kiya. Ya band nahi kiya? Mujhe yaad nahi. Shayad kiya. Shayad nahi. Main hall mein baitha raha, TV band kar diya, aur uske kamre ki taraf dekhta raha. Deewar. Bas deewar. Aur us deewar ke peeche wo.

Main utha. Kitchen mein gaya. Paani piya. Wapas aaya. Kamre ke saamne se guzra. Ruka. Saans li. Aur phir apne kamre mein chala gaya.

Apne kamre mein jaake maine darwaza band kiya aur bed pe gir pada. Aankhein band kar li. Neend nahi aayi. Bas uski kurti yaad aati rahi. Neeli kurti. Uska dupatta jo usne utaara tha aur kursi pe latak raha tha. Uske haath. Uske haath ka wo tarika jab wo roti todti thi, ungliyan, nakhun, sab.

Maine apna phone uthaya. Kuch dhoonda. Phir band kar diya. Ye galti nahi kar sakta. Ye kabhi nahi kar sakta. Wo meri maa hai. Maa. Shabd ko dimaag mein dohraaya, jaise koi mantra, jaise koi dhaal. Maa. Maa. Maa.

Par shaam ko jab wo uthi, aur usne apne baal baandhe, aur uski gardan dikhi, safed, lambi, aur usne mujhe dekha aur kaha, "Chai banau?" toh wo mantra toot gaya. Sab toot gaya.

"Haan," maine kaha. Aur mera gala sookh gaya tha.

Wo kitchen mein gayi. Main peeche gaya. Kyun gaya? Mujhe nahi pata. Bas chala gaya. Wo gas pe patila rakhi thi. Main darwaze ke paas khada tha. Usne mudke dekha.

"Kyun khada hai? Jaa, TV dekh."

"Yahin baithta hoon."

"Kitchen mein?"

"Haan."

Wo kuch nahi boli. Bas chai banane lagi. Cheeni, patti, doodh. Uske haath kaam kar rahe the aur main un haathon ko dekh raha tha. Ek haath se usne patile ko pakda, dusre se chamach chalayi. Uska kurti ka pallu thoda uth gaya tha, aur uski kamar ki taraf skin dikhi, thodi si, bas thodi si, aur maine dekha. Ek second. Do second. Teen second. Aur phir usne pallu theek kiya. Sahaj. Bina dekhe. Jaise use pata tha ki koi dekh raha hai.

Chai ban gayi. Usne do cups mein daali. Ek mujhe diya. Main cup pakda toh ungliyan kaanp rahi thi. Usne dekha.

"Haath kyun kaanp raha hai?"

"Kuch nahi."

"Thand lag gayi?"

"Nahi."

"Toh?"

"Kuch nahi, maa."

Maa. Maine wo shabd jaanbujh ke bola, jaise apne aap ko yaad dila raha ho. Wo muskurai. Wahi muskurahat. Aur phir wo apna cup leke hall mein chali gayi. Main kitchen mein khada raha, chai haath mein, aur sochta raha ki ye sab kya ho raha hai. Ye ghar. Ye garmi. Ye chuttiyan. Ye maa. Ye main.

Aur phir mujhe yaad aaya. Papa teen din baad aayenge. Teen din. Bas teen din. Aur mujhe nahi pata tha ki teen din mein kya ho sakta hai. Par kuch toh ho raha tha. Kuch toh chal raha tha, mere andar, uske andar, in deewaron ke beech, aur wo kuch rukne ka naam nahi le raha tha.