Pehli Qist (Episode 1)
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Waqt ki raftar bhi ajab hai... saal mahino mein, mahine hafton mein aur hafte lamhon mein dhal kar mutthi se reit ki tarah phisalte ja rahe hain.
Qurat-ul-ain balcony ki railing par hath tike asman ki janib dekh rahi thi. Naye saal ke istaqbal mein chhoray gaye atish-baazi ke rang asman ko munawwar kar rahe thay. Un rangon ki chamak uski ankhon mein jhalak rahi thi, par dil mein ek sawal thair gaya tha: Yeh saal itni jaldi kyun guzarne lage hain?
"Waqt ke hath mein kaman hai kya?
Har baras ik naya nishan hai kya?"
Usne ankhon ko narm-ravi se moonda aur ek gehri saans lekar dil hi dil mein dua ki, "Umeed hai ke 2024 mere liye khushiyon ka paigham laye... uff, bas sab achha ho jaye."
"Qurat-ul-ain! Arre beti, mera paandan toh
dena," neeche se nani ki pur-shafqat awaz goonji.
Khayalon ka silsila toota toh woh muskura di. Rack se peetal ka bhari-bharkam paandan uthaya aur nani ko thama kar unhi ke barabar bed par dher ho gayi. Nani ki god mein sar rakh kar usne Snapchat khola. Notifications ki ek lambi fehrist thi. Kuch der scroll karne ke baad uski nazar ek naam par thahri—'Ismael'.
"Hmm... chalo dekhte hain Mr. Ismael aap kaun hain," usne shararat se khud-kalami ki aur request accept kar li.
Qurat-ul-ain ke maa-baap apni naukri ki masroofiyat ki wajah se aaj ghar late aane wale thay, is liye woh aur uska chota bhai nani ke ghar ruke hue thay. Kuch hi der mein chota bhai so gaya aur nani bhi unghne lagin, lekin Qurat-ul-ain ki ankhon se neend koson door thi. Achanak mobile ki screen roshan hui.
Ismael: "Hey."
Bas phir kya tha, sawal o jawab ka ek aisa silsila shuru hua ke waqt ka ehsas hi na raha. Baat se baat nikalti gayi aur dekhte hi dekhte teen ghante beet gaye.
"Guftagu ke charagh jalte rahe
Hum khayalon ke sath chalte rahe."
"Acha ab mujhe bohat neend aa rahi hai, main so rahi hun," Qurat-ul-ain ne ek jamahi rokte hue message type kiya.
"Haan theek hai, kal baat hogi. Main bhi sota hun," Ismael ka jawab foran aaya.
Qurat-ul-ain ne uska message 'like' kiya, phone side par rakha aur kambal odh liya. Kuch hi palon mein woh ek pur-sukoon neend ki wadiyon mein thi, magar uske chehre par ek anjani si muskurahat ab bhi raqs kar rahi thi.
Subah ki kiran khidki se andar aayi toh Qurat-ul-ain ne angrai li. Bhale hi woh ek aam middle-class gharane se talluq rakhti thi, magar uske thant-baat kisi shehzadi se kam nahi thay. 16 saal ki umar aur 9th class ki yeh talib-e-ilm apni zaat mein ek mukammal "package" thi.
Qurat-ul-ain ka qad 5 foot 3 inch tha, rangat saaf aur woh ghunghrale baal jo uske chehre par ek makhsoos kashish paida karte thay. Naak par tika chashma uski zahanat ki gawahi deta tha. Woh dikhne mein jitni masoom thi, uska mizaj utna hi "dabang" tha.
"Masoomiyat nigahon mein, par dil mein shararat hai,
Woh seedhi saadhi larki nahi, ek puri qayamat hai."
Social media aur fashion ki usey aisi chaska-chaska thi ke pocket money ka bada hissa naye naye suits aur makeup par kharch ho jata tha. Woh trend se kabhi peeche nahi rehti thi; chahe Snapchat ke filters hon ya Instagram ki nayi reels, Qurat-ul-ain ko sab pata hota tha.
Parhai mein woh zaheen toh bohat thi, agar ek baar kitaab khol leti toh sab samajh aa jata, magar masla yeh tha ke usey parhne ka shauq bilkul nahi tha. Isi liye woh hamesha ek average student hi rahi. School mein uska rutba kisi "Don" se kam nahi tha. Teachers ke samne seedhi banna aur doston ke sath mil kar "gunda-gardi" karna uska roz ka mashghala tha. School ki canteen ho ya corridor, Qurat-ul-ain aur uski gang ki hamesha chalti thi.
"Qurat-ul-ain! Arre larki kab tak phone mein ghusi rahogi?" Nani ki awaz kitchen se aayi.
"Bas do minute nani!" Usne bed se uchhal kar uthte hue jawab diya.
Usne aaine ke samne khade hokar apne curly baalon ko jhatka. Usne socha, kal raat us Ismael se baat karke maza toh aaya tha. Woh abhi is naye silsile ko enjoy karna chahti thi. Uske liye yeh sab ek naya adventure tha. Middle-class gharane ki pabandiyon mein rehte hue bhi, woh apni duniya apne dhang se jeena janti thi.
Usne muskurate hue apna phone uthaya. Screen par Ismael ka notification chamak raha tha. Usne chashma sahi kiya aur shararat bhari muskurahat ke sath message khola.
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Jahan sheher ke ek kone mein Qurat-ul-ain jaisi larkiyan naye saal aur naye khwabon ki dhuup senk rahi thin, wahin isi sheher ke doosre rukh par zindagi ki ranginiyan thori mukhtalif thin. Zindagi hamesha ek jaisi nahi rehti; kahin middle-class gharon ki masoom shararatein hain, toh kahin unchi imaraton aur gehri tanhaiyon ki "High Life".
Sheher ke ek posh ilaqe ke ek pur-shikoh kamre mein, jahan deewaron par lage mehngi paint aur mahol ki khamoshi uski amarat ki gawahi de rahi thi, ek shakhs abhi tak soya nahi tha. Jab duniya naye saal ki pehli subah ka nashta kar rahi thi, woh apne kamre ki balcony mein khara tha.
Ankhon mein neend ka nam-o-nishan tak na tha, bas ek thakan thi jo rooh tak utar gayi thi. Usne ek gehri saans li aur cigarette ka ek lamba kash khaincha. Dhuan faza mein muallaq ho gaya, bilkul uski apni zindagi ki tarah—be-simt aur dhundli.
"Raat dhal gayi par khwaab na aaye,
Hum jage rahe par wo na aaye."
Uske kano mein lage airpods par Young Stunners ke dard aur haqiqat se bhare lyrics goonj rahe thay. Woh rap jo aaj kal ki nasl ki be-chaini ka akkas hota hai, uski maujooda kafiyat se khoob mel kha raha tha.
Woh abhi sirf 20 saal ka ek jawan larka tha, magar uski shakhsiyat mein ek aisi sanjeedgi aur bhari-pan tha jo uski umar se kahin zyada tha. Be-panah paisa, be-inteha husn aur ek aisi "high profile" zindagi jis ka log sirf sapna dekhte hain—magar uski ankhon mein ek ajeeb sa khali-pan tha.
Usne apne phone ki screen roshan ki. Notifications ka dher tha, magar usne kisi ko tawajjo dena munasib na samjha. Uske liye yeh naya saal bhi purane saalon jaisa hi tha—wahi raatein, wahi dhuan aur wahi na-khatam hone wali be-khwabi.
Usne cigarette ka aakhiri kash liya aur usey ashtray mein masal diya. Subah ki thandi hawa uske baalon se takrayi, magar uske andar ki tapish kam na hui.
apni ungliyon se apne makhsoos ghunghrale baalon (curly hair) ko peechhe hata raha tha. Uske baal Qurat-ul-ain ki tarah narm o nazuk nahi thay, balkay un mein ek ajeeb si sarkashi thi, jo uske "Playboy" image ko mazeed mazboot banati thi.
Sheher ki unchi society mein uska naam ek aisi shakhsiyat ke taur par liya jata tha jo dilon se khelna janta tha. Larkiyan uski ek nazar ki talabgar rehtin, magar koi nahi janta tha ke is "Playboy" mask ke peeche ek aisa insan chupa hai jo ab kisi par aitbar karne ki salahiyat kho chuka hai.
Kuch mahine pehle tak, woh aisa nahi tha. Usne kisi par toot kar bharosa kiya tha, magar badle mein usey sirf "dhoka" mila. Uski girlfriend ne uske sath cheat kiya tha—yeh woh zakhm tha jisne uski amarat aur uski "High Life" ko be-ma'ni kar diya tha. Tabhi se, usne rishton ko sirf ek khel samajh liya tha. Ab woh kisi ka dil todne se pehle sochta nahi tha, kyunke uska apna dil pehle hi raiza-raiza ho chuka tha.
Woh cigarette ka dhuwan hawa mein uchhalta raha, Young Stunners ke gaane ki base (bass) uske kamre ki khamoshi ko cheer rahi thi.
"Sab kehte hain main badal gaya hun... koi yeh nahi poochta ke kyun badla hun," usne talkhi se socha.
Wahan doosri taraf, Qurat-ul-ain apne naye saal ke khwabon mein gum thi, Ismael ke messages par muskura rahi thi. Usey ilm bhi nahi tha ke qismat uske naseeb ka silsila ek aise larke se jorne wali hai jo mohabbat se nafrat karta hai aur jiski zindagi andheron aur dhuein mein ghiri hui hai.
Do mukhtalif duniyayein, do mukhtalif raaste... magar ghunghrale baal dono ki shanakht thay. Ek masoomiyat ka aks tha, toh doosra tootay hue aitbar ka nishan.
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Subah ke 8 baj rahe thay. Qurat-ul-ain school ki van mein baithi thi, magar uska dhyan bahar ke manzar se zyada apne mobile ki screen par tha.
Ismael: "Good morning! Aaj school jane ka dil toh nahi kar raha hoga?"
Qurat-ul-ain: "Haha, bilkul nahi! Magar kya karein, thori gunda-gardi bhi toh karni hai school ja kar."
Ismael: "Wao! Aap aur gundi-gardi? Itni masoom shakal ke sath?"
Qurat-ul-ain ne screen dekh kar ek pur-asrar muskurahat dabai. Ismael ko kya pata tha ke jis "chashmish" larki se woh baat kar raha hai, woh school ki boundary wall dakhil hote hi apna rang badal leti hai.
Jaise hi van school ke gate par ruki, Qurat-ul-ain ne apna bag kandhe par dala aur chashma naak par sahi karte hue bahar nikli. School ke corridor mein dakhil hote hi mahol badal gaya.
"Oye! Side par ho ja," usne ek junior larki ko halke se dabkaya jo rasta roke khari thi. Woh bechari foran sehmi hui peeche ho gayi. Qurat-ul-ain ki "gang" (uski 7 pakki dostein) pehle hi uske intezar mein thin.
"Aa gayi mohtarma!" uski dost Zoya ne taali bajayi.
Qurat-ul-ain ne baal jhatke aur class ki janib barhi. Woh parhai mein bhale hi average thi, magar poore school mein uski "chalti" thi. Teachers bhi uske sharp dimaag se waqif thay, isi liye zyada sakhti nahi karte thay. Woh school ki un larkiyon mein se thi jo canteen mein line tod kar sab se pehle samosa hasil kar leti thin aur agar koi larki zyada "over" hoti, toh Qurat-ul-ain usey sahi se sabak sikhana bhi janti thi.
"Dikhne mein woh bholi hai,
par baaton mein woh goli hai"
Assembly ke baad break time mein woh log purani canteen ke peeche baithe thay. Qurat-ul-ain ne chori-chupe phone nikala aur Ismael ka message check kiya.
Ismael: "Acha suno, mujhe tumhari ek pic dekhni hai... filter ke bagair."
Qurat-ul-ain ka dil dhak se reh gaya. Woh ek aisi larki thi jo kisi se darrti nahi thi, magar Ismael ki is demand ne usey thora pareshan kar diya. Kya woh usey apni "real" side dikhaye? Ya phir wahi masoom sa chehra?
School se wapis aa kar Qurat-ul-ain ne bag bed par phenka aur nani ki tok-tok se bachne ke liye foran apne kamre mein ghus gayi. Uska dil subah se Ismael ki us 'picture' wali demand par atka hua tha. Usne chashma utar kar side table par rakha aur apne ghunghrale baalon ko khol kar chehre par girne diya.
Aaine mein dekhte hue usne socha, "Main kitni ajeeb hun... school mein sab mujhse darrte hain, par is larke ke ek message ne mujhe sochne par majboor kar diya."
Usne phone uthaya. Ismael ka message abhi bhi wahi tha, jaise uske jawab ka muntazir ho.
Qurat-ul-ain: "Picture kyun dekhni hai? Kya meri baatein kafi nahi hain?"
Ismael: "Baatein rooh tak jati hain, magar ankhein dil ka pata deti hain. Main dekhna chahta hun ke jo tum itni be-baak (bold) baatein karti ho, kya tumhari ankhon mein bhi wahi chamak hai?"
Qurat-ul-ain ne ek gehri saans li aur ek 'candid' si tasveer kheenchi—bina kisi filter ke, bikhre hue curly baalon aur un gehri ankhon ke sath jo bohat kuch chhupaye hue thin. Usne woh send kar di.
Do minute tak 'Typing' likha hua aata raha... Qurat-ul-ain ki dharkanen tez ho rahi thin.
Ismael: "Tum... tum bilkul waisi nahi ho jaisa maine socha tha. Tumhari ankhon mein toh bohat dard hai Qurat-ul-ain. Kya chhupa rahi ho tum?"
Qurat-ul-ain ka dil jaisey ruk gaya. Woh, jo poore school ko apni ungliyon par nachati thi, ek anjan larke ke is jumle par be-bas ho gayi. Magar tabhi usne screen par ek aisi cheez dekhi jis ne uske hosh uda diye. Ismael ne apni ek pic bheji thi—lekin us background mein khari car aur uske baal...
"Dilon ke khel mein aksar naye kirdaar aate hain,
Kahin raste milte hain, kahin raste kho jate hain."
Usi lamhe sheher ke dusre rukh par, Hashir apne ghar ki chath par khara kisi se phone par baat kar raha tha.
"Haan, khel shuru ho chuka hai. Woh larki itni bhi sidi nahi hai jitni dikhti hai," Hashir ne cigarette ka dhuwan hawa mein uchhal kar sardaah lehje mein kaha.
Qurat-ul-ain ne Ismael ki bheji hui pic ko zoom kiya. Uske dil mein ek ajeeb sa khauf dakhil hua. Kya Ismael wahi tha jo dikh raha tha? Ya phir yeh koi purani dushmani ka naya jaal tha?
Abhi woh kuch type karne hi wali thi ke uske kamre ki light gul ho gayi aur uske phone ki battery 'Dead' ho kar band ho gayi. Andhere kamre mein Qurat-ul-ain ki tez dharkanen saaf sunayi de rahi thin.
Ab kya hoga? Kya Ismael aur Hashir ka koi talluq hai? Aur kya Qurat-ul-ain ki 'gundi-gardi' usey is naye khel se bacha payegi?
(End of Episode 1)
TO BE CONTINUED