Spiti: Road to Redemption

Main hansa. Pehli baar teen saal mein, asli hansi.

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Chapter 4 — Cafe, aur Pehli Baar Kuch Mehsus Hona

Us raat cafe mein tha. WiFi nahi tha — sach mein nahi tha. 11 baje heater mar gaya, aur Riya ne cylinder ko aisi gaali di jo maine sirf Arjun ke muh se suni thi.

Hum teen baithe — Sameer, main, Riya. Beech mein gas stove, do cutting chai. Andhera tha, sirf stove ki light thi. Us light mein Riya ka chehra alag lag raha tha — soft, vulnerable, par strong.

"Toh," usne kaha, mujhe dekhte hue, "tu kyun aaya hai?"

Maine bataya. Sab bataya. Arjun. Invoices. Manager. 11 baje ki meeting se bhaag raha hoon. Dar hai ke agar ruka toh Arjun ka naam un mardon ke beech lena padega jo use "personal circumstance" likh kar bhool jaayenge.

Riya ne kuch nahi kaha. Chai banati rahi. Steam uthi, uske chehre pe gayi.

"Documents hain?" usne poochha.

"Bag mein."

"Proof hai ke manager ne kaha tha?"

"Haan."

"Toh bhaag kyun raha hai?"

Main chup raha. Kyunki jawab nahi tha. Ya tha, par kehna nahi chahta tha.

Riya ne stove band kiya. Mere paas aayi. Itni paas ke uski saans mehsoos ho rahi thi. "Tu bhaag nahi raha," usne kaha, awaaz dheemi. "Tu wait kar raha hai. Ke himmat kahan se aayegi."

Usne haath uthaya. Mere haath ki taraf. Ruka. Dekha. Phir... chhua nahi. Haath neeche kiya. Par uski aankhein... uski aankhein kuch keh rahi thi.

"Kal aana," boli. "Cafe mein. 6 baje. Help chahiye."

"Kis cheez mein?"

"Baad mein bataungi."

Sameer ne peeche se kaha, "Bhai, mujhe bhi bulao?"

Riya ne muskuraya — pehli baar, asli wala. "Tu free ki chai peene aana. Kaam isse karwayenge."

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Chapter 5 — Dusra Din, aur Haath Chhune Ki Shuruaat

Subah 6 baje cafe ke bahar tha. Thandi thi — Spiti ki woh thandi jo haddiyan mehsoos karti hai.

Riya ne darwaza khola. Pajame mein thi, sweater pehna hua, baal khule. "Itni jaldi?" Maine kaha, "Tu bula rahi thi."

"Andar aajao. Chai pehle."

Cafe chhota tha — chaar table, ek counter, ek purana stove. Par garam tha. Uski garmi thi. Usne chai banayi, main uski madad ki — cups dhote hue, plates saaf karte hue. Aise hi, side by side, koi baat nahi.

"Teri help chahiye," usne kaha, chai dono ke haath mein di. "Mere papa ne cafe shuru kiya tha. Unke jaane ke baad... kuch papers gadbad hain. Tax wale pareshaan kar rahe hain. Audit ho rahi hai. Tu samajhta hai na, invoices, billing..."

Maine dekha. "Tu jaanti hai main kya kiya hai?"

"Jaanti hoon. Isiliye pooch rahi hoon. Tu jaanta hai kaise fix karte hain. Mujhe bachana hai yeh cafe. Papa ki yaadein hain."

Maine kuch nahi kaha. Bas uske haath ko chhua — sirf ek second, uski ungliyon pe jo scars thay. Usne dekha. Maine haath hata liya.

"Main dekhunga," maine kaha.

"Kyun?"

"Kyunki tu ne meri bike fix ki. Aur... aur kuch nahi."

Woh din maine uske papers dekhe. Sameer bhi madad kar raha tha — MBA hone ke bawajood usse kuch nahi aata tha, par koshish kar raha tha. Shaam tak humne records theek kiye, backups banaye.

Shaam ko 8 baje, cafe band karne ke baad, Riya ne kaha, "Chal, ek jagah dikhati hoon."

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Chapter 6 — Spiti River, aur Pehli Baar Kareeb Aana

Woh mujhe Spiti River ke kinare le gayi. Raat thi, moonlight thi, paani ki awaaz thi.

"Yahan aati hoon jab soch mein pad jaati hoon," usne kaha. "Papa ke baad roz aati thi. Ab kam aati hoon. Shayad... shayad ab thoda theek lagne laga hai."

Main uske paas khada tha. Itna paas ke uski sweater ki wool mehsoos ho rahi thi.

"Arjun ke baad main yahan aata," maine kaha. "Akele. Kuch nahi mehsoos hota tha. Aaj... aaj kuch alag hai."

Usne mudke dekha. Uski aankhein moonlight mein jagmagaa rahi thi. "Kya alag hai?"

"Tu," maine kaha. Itna asaan tha kehna. "Tu alag hai."

Woh kuch nahi boli. Bas dekhti rahi. Phir dheere se apna haath mere haath mein daala. Garam tha. Thanda tha. Dono tha.

"Main darti hoon," usne kaha. "Har roz. Cafe band ho jayega toh? Main kya karungi? Kahin jaungi kahan?"

"Main hoon," maine kaha. Jhoot tha. Main toh bhaag raha tha. Par us waal sach lag raha tha.

Usne mera haath pakda tight. "Tu wapas jaayega. Delhi. Apna sach face karega."

"Kaise jaanti hai?"

"Kyunki tu woh insaan hai jo apne bhai ke liye fraud kar sakta hai. Woh insaan jo mere liye papers fix kar raha hai. Tu bhaag nahi sakta zyada der. Teri fitrat mein nahi hai."

Maine uske chehre ko chhua. Pehli baar. Uski cheek thandi thi, par neeche se garmi aa rahi thi. Usne aankhein band ki.

"Mujhe kiss karna hai," maine kaha. Sawal nahi tha. Bas ek baat.

Usne aankhein nahi kholi. "Kar."

Maine kiya. Pehli baar teen saal mein kisi ko chhua — sach mein chhua. Uske hoth thande thay, phir garam ho gaye. Uski saans meri saans mein mil gayi. Paanch second, ya paanch minute, pata nahi.

Jab alag hue, usne kaha, "Yeh galat hai."

"Kyun?"

"Kyunki tu kal jaayega. Ya parson. Aur main... main yahin rahungi."

"Main aaunga wapas."

"Mat bol jo sach nahi hai."

Maine uske chehre ko pakda. "Main aaunga. Chahe kuch bhi ho. Case jeetu ya haaru. Aaunga."

Usne kuch nahi kaha. Bas mere seene se lag gayi. Maine usse pakda. River ki awaaz chal rahi thi, aur hum dono wahin khade thay, ek doosre se chipke, jaise duniya wahin ruk gayi ho.

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Chapter 7 — Raat, aur Jo Humne Kaha Bina Lafzon Ke

Woh raat cafe mein thi. Sameer dusre guest house mein tha — usne kuch nahi poocha jab main wapas nahi aaya.

Riya ne upar ka room diya. Chhota tha, ek bed, ek table, ek purana heater.

"Garam paani hai," usne kaha. "Nahane jaungi. Tu... tu ruk."