Aakhri Call

Avni

Pune ki raat mein thandak seedhi nahi aati. Pehle skin pe chipakti hai, phir dheere se andar ghus ke baith jaati hai, jaise kisi ne tumhare kapdon ke neeche se haath daal diya ho. Call-centre ki glass building mein AC aur bhi badtameez lagta tha. Monitors ki neeli roshni, half-eaten sandwiches, aur aadmiyon ki woh aadat ki woh khud ko seat pe zinda prove karte rehte hain—yeh sab mil ke raat ko aur chhota kar dete the.

Main headset ka ek side thoda upar karke ticket queue dekh rahi thi. 2:17 AM.

“Avni, ten minute mein break,” Rajeev ki awaaz piche se aayi.

“Haan,” maine bina mudhe bola.

Meri chair ka left arm loose tha. Main hamesha usko elbow se daba ke baithi rehti thi. Jaise chair ko pakad ke main apne aap ko pakad rahi hoon. Ye sab habits koi hero wali cheez nahi hoti. Bas aadmi ko tootne se pehle thoda sa seedha dikhane ka jugad hota hai.

Pehla call aaya toh mainne normal tarah uthaya. Script wali awaaz. “Customer support, Avni speaking.”

Pehle kuch nahi. Sirf saans.

Phir ek male voice, kaafi paas se, kaafi thandi.

“3rd floor, flat 304.”

Mera haath mouse se slip ho gaya.

“Hello?” maine dheere se bola. “Kaun hai?”

Static mein ek halki si hansi jaisi cheez thi. Ya shayad mere dimaag ne bana li.

“Green scooter. Baner road side.” Usne ek pause liya, jaise mere chehre ka scene dekh raha ho. “Saturday office se late nikalti ho. Gate ke bahar chaiwala. ‘Ek cutting’ bolti ho. Zyada sugar nahi.”

Mujhe apni reedh mein kuch hard sa feel hua.

Maine headset ko aur tight pakad liya. “Bakwas band karo.”

Voice bilkul dheemi thi. “Rajeev ko mat batana.”

Call cut.

Headset mein static bach gaya. Aur mere around sab chal raha tha—keyboard, printer, kisi ki low hansi, kisi ka cough—but mere andar ek room band ho gaya tha. Jaise kisi ne mera naam nahi, mera address nahi, meri aadat nahi—mera poora din file kar diya ho.

Meera ka message pop hua: Tu theek hai?

Mainne reply nahi kiya. Seedha Rajeev ke cabin ki taraf gayi.

Uska cabin glass ka tha, door half open. Woh monitor mein ghusa hua tha, sleeves rolled, face pe woh polished sa expression jo log tab pehente hain jab unko lagta hai ki system unke haath mein hai. Ya shayad ulta.

“Rajeev,” maine kaha.

Usne upar dekha. “Kya hua?”

“Ek call aaya.”

“Customer?” usne poocha, jaise maine usse coffee spill ki report de di ho.

Main hans nahi paayi. “Mera address bola usne.”

Rajeev ne chair se bas itna sa sidha hokar mujhe dekha. “Details?”

Maine number, scooter, chaiwala, address sab bol diya. Woh sunta raha. Uske face pe kuch change nahi hua. Bas ek baar uski ungli monitor edge pe ruk gayi.

“Internal prank ho sakta hai,” usne kaha.

Mujhe uspe gussa aya, par zyada us tone pe. “Prank mein mera address kaise?”

“Database leak.”

“Canteen wali coffee kaise?”

Uski jaw tight hui. “Avni, tum tired ho. Bas itna.”

Piche se Meera aa gayi. Baal bun mein, face pe neend aur irritation ka mix. Woh ek second mein samajh gayi ki kuch gadbad hai.

“Kya hua?” usne pucha.

Maine repeat kiya.

Meera ka face ek pal ke liye khul gaya. “Tu akeli nahi jaayegi ghar.”

Rajeev ne hum dono ko dekha. “CCTV aur logs check karunga. Abhi kisi ko mat bolo.”

“Mat bolo?” maine hans ke kaha. “Mujhe dhamki aayi hai.”

“Panic mat karo,” usne bola.

Panic mat karo.

Jaise panic koi tap ho jo band kar diya jaaye.

Main cabin se nikli. Palat ke Rajeev ke face pe ek chhota sa hila hua muscle dekha. Guilt tha ya irritation, ya bas mera dimaag mujhe kuch aur dikhana chahta tha.

Phir calls chalne lage. Main script bolti rahi. “Thank you for calling.” “Please hold.” “I understand.” Sab theek-thaak, sab fake-thaak.

3:06 AM pe uska number phir flash hua.

Is baar mainne turant uthaya.

“Galat kiya,” voice aayi.

Meri saans ruk gayi.

“Kaun ho tum?”

“Sach mein nahi pata?”

Mera haath kaanp gaya. Main chair se aadhi uth gayi.

“Paagal ho?” maine kaha.

“Rajeev ko bata diya,” voice ne dheere se bola. “Ab file bhi khul sakti hai.”

Maine mic mute kiya aur Rajeev ki taraf dekha. Woh kisi aur call pe tha. Back meri taraf.

Voice phir aayi, “Green scooter Wednesday 11:15 pe nikalta hai. Tum notice karti ho. Bas bolti nahi.”

Call cut.

Maine headset utaar ke desk pe patka. Meera turant mere paas thi.

“Avni?”

“Woh phir aaya.”

“Kaun?”

“Pata nahi.”

Rajeev cabin se bahar nikla. “Kya hua?”

Maine usse dekha. “Phir call aaya.”

“Again?” usne thoda sharp pucha.

“Ha.”

“Number?”

Maine dikhaya. Usne screen ko dekha aur apna phone lock kar diya.

“System check karunga,” usne kaha.

“Bas?”

“Abhi itna hi possible hai.”

Meera ne Rajeev ko ghura. “Usko address pata tha.”

Rajeev ne uski taraf dekha, phir mujhe. “Data leak ho sakta hai.”

“Tumhari awaaz mein bhi leak hai,” Meera ne seedha bol diya.

Rajeev ne jawab nahi diya.

Us raat ke baad har beep pe mera badan tight ho jaata tha. Lekin darr ka shape tab bana jab agle din subah Deshmukh station se call aaya.

Shanaya

Shanaya Mehta ko main pehli baar pantry mein dekha tha, coffee machine ke saamne, cup ko aise pakde hue jaise usmein saara din ki thakan ghul rahi ho. Woh hamesha thodi si tez bolti thi, par uska tez pan gussa nahi tha. Zyada tar woh apne aap ko sambhaalne ki aadat thi.

“Tu Avni hai na?” usne pucha tha.

Maine haan mein sar hila diya.

“Logs dekh sakti hai?”

“Thode bahut.”

“Good. Phir aaj se mere logs dekhna.”