01-12-2025, 11:16 PM
Episode 15
Early Morning – Arti & Abhishek’s Bedroom
Subah ke 6 baje hain. Kamre me halki sooraj ki roshni parde ke kone se ghus rahi hai. Pankha dheere-dheere ghoom raha hai.
Abhishek ne aankh kholi — saamne Arti so rahi hai, uske baal thode bikhre hue, chehre par shanti.
Ek halka sa muskaan Abhishek ke chehre pe aata hai. Wo kareeb jaata hai, aur uske ghoonghat ke neeche se nikalte ek zulfe hatata hai.
Arti thoda sa hilli, aankhein aadhi khuli.
Arti (neend bhari awaaz me): “Abhishek… subah hui bhi hai?”
Abhishek (muskura kar): “Hui nahi… ab hone wali hai. Tumhari smile se din start karna chahta tha.”
Arti aankh uthakar dekhti hai, thoda blush karti hai.
Arti: “Bas karo… mummy ji uth gayi to?”
Abhishek: “Phir keh dena, aaj alarm main nahi tum thi…”
Wo hansi daba ke uthti hai, takiye se use halka sa dhakka deti hai.
Arti: “Tumhe har baat me mazaak chahiye… jao, main chai banane ja rahi hoon.”
Abhishek use rokta hai, uska haath pakadta hai, aur ek pal ke liye dono aankhon me dekhte hain — ek puri duniya si sukoon bhari nazar.
Phir Arti apna dupatta sambhalti hui hasti hai aur washroom ki taraf badh jaati hai.
Abhishek piche se kehta hai:
Abhishek (cheerfully): “Arti ji, chai me thoda extra pyaar daal dena!”
Arti bina mudhe sirf muskura deti hai —
Subah ke saath ek naya din shuru hota hai.
Scene: Morning – Arti’s Home (Kitchen to Bedroom)
Subah ab puri tarah se jag chuki hai. Kitchen me chai ki khushboo aur tadke ki halki si awaaz goonj rahi hai.
Arti ne breakfast ka aakhiri kaam khatam kar liya hai — gas band karti hai, apron utaarti hai aur hath dho kar apne dupatte se poochhti hai.
Uske chehre par ek shaant si satisfaction hai, jaise ghar ke kaam ke sath-sath usne apna din jeet liya ho.
Arti (apne aap se halki si muskura kar):
“Ab thoda khud ke liye waqt…”
Wo jaldi se kitchen ki lights off karti hai aur seedha apne kamre ki taraf badh jaati hai.
Room me abhishek ka office bag pada hai, parde se halki dhoop andar aa rahi hai.
Arti wardrobe ke saamne khadi hoti hai — almari kholte hi ek halki khushbu uske kapdon se nikalti hai.
Saree ke neatly folded sections ek ek kar ke nazar aate hain — cottons, silks, light prints, aur kuchh special occasions wali.
Uske haath ek pastel pink saree par ruk jaate hain — border par chhoti golden zari, bahut saalon se untouched.
Wo saree ko haath me leti hai, ungliyon se uska kapda mehsoos karti hai.
Chehre par ek halki si muskaan aa jaati hai — jaise koi yaad dimaag me ubhar aayi ho.
? Montage Begins (Soft Instrumental Music):
Arti mirror ke saamne khadi hai, saree ka pallu apne kandhe pe set kar rahi hai.
Baalon me clip lagati hai, ek chhoti si bindi chipkati hai.
Apne mangalsutra ko haath se theek karti hai.
Dresser ke mirror me apna reflection dekhti hai, ek second ke liye khud se aankhein milati hai.
Uske chehre par ek graceful confidence hai — Arti, ek wife, ek homemaker, aur ek Behen_Code team member.
Montage ke end me Arti ek halka sa kajal lagati hai, dupatta set karti hai, aur mirror ke samne muskura kar softly kehti hai —
“Ready… har front ke liye.”
Scene: Gyaan Ganga Library – Late Morning
Halki si hawa khidki se andar aa rahi hai, library ke andar ek sukoon bhara sa mahol hai.
Shelf ke beech me Arti apni favorite reading corner me baithi hai — ek wooden armchair, jahan se dhoop ki patli si rekh uske page par padti hai.
Table par chai ka ek cup ab thoda thanda ho chuka hai, aur uske haath me ek romantic–mystery novel hai — “The Scarlet Confession.”
Uska dhyaan puri tarah kitab me dooba hua hai.
Narration ke words uske chehre ke emotions ke sath blend hone lagte hain
kabhi halki muskaan, kabhi halki saans rok lena.
? Voice Over (as if novel ke lines uske dimaag me guj rahi ho):
“...Usne uske paas aakar uske baalon ko halki si ungliyon se hataya,
aur bola — tum jaanti ho, tum khud ek raaz ho…”
Arti ke haath ki ungliyan page ke upar ruk jaati hain.
Wo page ke corners ko thoda press karti hai, jaise us moment me khud us heroine ki jagah ho.
Uske aankhon me ek dreamy glow hai, lips pe ek faint smile.
Chair me thoda adjust karte hue wo peeche tilt hoti hai, ek lamha ke liye aankhein band karti hai —
aur bina notice kiye uska saree ka pallu dheere se shoulder se slide hokar neeche girta hai.
Hawa thodi tez chalti hai, uske baal halki si hilte hain,
aur wo apne aap me gum — ek kahani ke beech apni kahani likhne lagti hai.
Arti abhi bhi conscious nahi hai apni haalat par
Uska pyara sa cleavage uske pallu ke hatne se nazar aata hai jo uske dono santro ke bich ki darar ko saaf saaf zaahir kar raha tha
Lekin Arti apni haalat se abhi bhi anjaan thi
Ek tez hawa ka jhonka or aata hai or Arti ke hair slow motion me udne lagte hai
Hawa ka jhonka aur tez ho gaya hai. Shelfon ke beech se kuchh papers udd kar hawa me hilte hue Arti ke paas girte hain.Wo apni kitab me ab bhi doobi hui hai ankhein us page ke shabdon me khoi hui, jaise duniya ka sab shor uske liye band ho gaya ho.
Uske baal hawa ke saath nache ja rahe hain, dhoop ke ek tukde me wo pal ek tasveer sa ban gaya hai — ek soft, unguarded moment.
Lekin Library me koi ek shakhs khada hai,
shaayad koi unknown admirer.
Uske haath me ek file hai, par uski nazar sirf ek chehre par tik gayi hai Arti par.
Arti ke husn ka yeh nazara usko deewana banane ke liye kaafi tha.
Uske chehre ki calmness, uski aadat ki simplicity, aur wo khoyi hui muskaan
kuch aisa tha jo us insaan ko ruk jane par majboor kar gaya.
Camera angle shift hota hai —
door se wo person dheere se ek kadam aage badhta hai,
par turant ruk jaata hai…
ek respect bhare hesitation ke saath.
Bas itna hi moment tha —
ek pal ke liye Arti ek kahani me khoi thi,
aur koi aur us kahani me usse kho gaya tha.
Ek soft trrring trrring ki aawaaz ne Arti ka saara trance tod diya.
Uska mobile counter par vibrate kar raha tha —
screen par kuch missed calls from Ishani blink kar rahi thi.
Arti ka dhyaan jaise achanak reality me wapas aa gaya.
Usne halki si saans li, aankhein blink ki, aur tabhi —
uska nazar library ke glass door ke paar kisi par tik gayi.
Wahi ladka formal shirt me, sleeves folded,
ek file haath me liye hue —
jaise bas kuch bolne hi wala ho, par ruk gaya ho.
Dono ki nazrein ek pal ke liye milti hain.
Khaamoshi me bhi ek ajeeb si garmahat thi.
Arti ke chehre par ek halka sa surprise aur sharam ka rang ubhar aata hai,
aur tabhi use apni haalat ka ehsaas hota hai —
uske baal bikre hue, pallu shoulder se halka sa phisla hua,
aur uske haath me ab bhi wo open novel.
Wo ek jhatke me apni chair ghum deti hai,
baalon ko sametkar pin lagati hai, pallu ko sambhalti hai,
aur apna sans le kar ek composed librarian mode me wapas aati hai.
Phir, dheere se, wo wapas mud kar dekhti hai —
lekin wo ladka…
kahin nahi tha.
Sirf door se dhoop ke ek tukde me hawa me hilta hua ek page,
aur ek ajnabi sa khayaal,
jo uske mann me chhode gaya tha —
kaun tha wo? aur kyun aaya tha?
Arti phone uthati hai,
ek halki si muskaan ke sath — jaise khud se keh rahi ho:
“Bas… kitabein hi toh padh rahi thi main…”
Camera zoom out karta hai —
Gyaan Ganga Library ke us shant mahaul me,
sirf ek kahani ki nayi file khul chuki thi.
Scene: College Campus – Present Day, Afternoon
Campus ke ek kone me purani stone-bench ke paas Anisha apni notebook me kuch likh rahi thi.
Uske aas-paas ka mahaul usual tha —
canteen se uthti samose ki khushboo,
door se debate team ka shor,
aur unke beech ek chhoti si shaanti, jisme Anisha ka focus bas uske notes par tha.
Ek halki hawa chali, aur uske paper hilne lage.
Anisha ne unhe sambhalne ke liye haath badhaya hi tha
ki koi aawaz aayi —
“Careful… warna tumhare notes phir se hawa me ud jaayenge.”
Wo pal bhar ke liye ruki,
aur jaise hi usne sir uthaya —
uske saamne Kabir khada tha.
Same mischievous smile,
jo us din seminar ke bahar takraate waqt thi.
Anisha (thoda chonki, par composed):
“Oh… tum? Again?”
Kabir (muskurate hue):
“Haan, again. Lagta hai tum mujhe stalk kar rahi ho.”
Anisha (eyebrow utha ke):
“Excuse me? Pehle tum takraaye the, ab yahan aa gaye ho. Stalker tum lag rahe ho.”
Kabir hans padta hai, bench ke corner par baith jaata hai,
apna bag ek side rakhta hai.
Dono ke beech ek awkward-si khaamoshi hoti hai,
phir Anisha ice-break karti hai —
Anisha: “Waise aaj kaunsa seminar dekhne aaye ho?
Ya bas hawa khane?”
Kabir (thoda casual): “Marketing trends wala.
Actually mere ek friend ne bola tha wahan free snacks milte hain.”
Anisha uske jawab par hansi rok nahi paati.
Uski aankhon me ek halka sa sparkle aa jaata hai —
pehli baar wo thoda khul kar hasti hai.
Anisha: “Toh tum seminar snacks ke liye attend karte ho?”
Kabir: “Bilkul. Knowledge toh YouTube se mil jaati hai,
seminar me samose milte hain.”
Dono ke beech ek chhoti si laughter exchange hoti hai.
Kuch seconds tak sirf hawa aur unki hansi ke echoes sunai dete hain.
Phir ek pal ke liye dono chup ho jaate hain —
na awkward, na forced,
bas ek calm comfort.
Kabir (softly): “Waise tum… har waqt itni serious rehti ho?”
Anisha (thoda smile karte hue): “Shayad… par tumhare jaise log dekh kar thoda change karne ka mann karta hai.”
Kabir halka sa blush karta hai,
aur camera un dono ke chehre par focus karta hai —
ek anjaan si warmth, ek not-yet-friend wali vibe.
Bell bajti hai.
Anisha apni notebook band karti hai,
Kabir uth kar bag pehenta hai.
Kabir: “Phir milte hain… Miss Focused.”
Anisha (smiling softly): “Phir milte hain… Mr. Snacks.”
Dono opposite directions me chalte hain,
aur background me slow guitar strum ke sath frame fade out ho jaata hai.
Scene: Aaji ka Ghar – Shaam Ka Waqt
Hawa me shaam ki ek purani si khushboo thi —
jaise kuch purani yaadein wapas aayi ho.
Aaji ka drawing room — wahi purana sofa,
ek side par chai ke cup, dusri taraf ek file open,
aur beech me woh “Behen_Code” ke teen members —
Ishani, Anushka aur Anisha — serious chehre ke sath baithe hue.
Rahat or Arti ka voice Bluetooth speaker se sunai de raha tha,
uski usual teasing tone ke bajaye aaj ek heavy calmness thi.
Ishani: “Aaj ka din important hai… kal hearing hai.
Hum sabko apni statement ekdum clear deni hai.”
Aaji ek corner me silently baithi sabko dekh rahi thi,
unki aankhen Ishani par tikki thi — jaise samajh rahi ho
ki aaj uske andar kuch aur hi toofan chal raha hai.
Doorbell bajti hai.
Ishani khud uth kar jaati hai.
Darwaza khulne par saamne Humera khadi thi —
simple suit me, aankhon me thoda darr aur thoda hosla.
Ishani (muskurate hue): “Aao Humera, andar aao.
Tumse milo — ye meri team hai.”
Humera dheere se room me aati hai.
Anisha pehle haath badhati hai — “Hi… I’m Anisha.”
Anushka ek supportive smile ke sath — “Bank me kaam karti hoon,
par zyada kaam yahan dil se hota hai.”
Bluetooth se Rahat ki awaaz aati hai —
“Aur main hoon Rahat, awaazon ki duniya se,
aaj kuch zyada serious mood me hoon.”
Room me thoda halka laughter ghoom jaata hai,
thoda tension kam ho jaata hai.
Ishani (serious tone me): “Humera, kal tumhe court me bold rehna hoga.
Vicky Mehra powerful hai, lekin usse bhi zyada powerful sach hota hai.”
Humera halki si haan me sir hilati hai,
uske haath me abhi bhi uski dadi ki tasveer thi.
Wo tasveer usne apni ungliyon me kas ke pakad rakhi thi.
Anushka: “Jo log paison ke dam par insaaf khareedte hain,
wo ye bhool jaate hain ki har case me evidence nahi —
kisi ka zameer bhi gawahi deta hai.”
Arti ki awaaz fir ghoomti hai speaker me:
“Humera, tu akeli nahi hai.
Kal agar tujhe darr lage, to sochna ki hum sab tere sath court ke andar nahi,
court ke andar tere jazbe me honge.”
Ek halki si smile Humera ke chehre par aa jaati hai.
Uski aankhon me aansu bhi hain, aur ek naya confidence bhi.
Aaji (dheere se): “Betiyan kabhi haar nahi maanti…
Bas unhe yaad dilane ke liye ek behen zaroor chahiye hoti hai.”
Silence.
Room me ek emotional pause chha jaata hai.
Ishani ek deep breath leti hai —
“Kal sirf case nahi jeetna hai… kal dar ko harana hai.”
Sab ek dusre ki taraf dekhti hain —
ek silent nod, ek team jise kisi ne naam nahi diya,
par jiska mission sabse bada tha: “Behen_Code.”
Camera dheere dheere zoom out hota hai —
table par ek file padi hai jisme likha hai “State vs. Vicky Mehra”,
aur us file ke upar Aaji ke haath tikke hain,
jaise wo dua kar rahi ho kisi unseen himmat ke liye.
Scene: Lawyer’s Office – Shaam ka waqt (Court ke ek din pehle)
Ek soft golden light window ke blind se andar aa rahi thi.
Room me files ka ek organized sa jungle tha —
ek corner me Indian Penal Code ki moti-moti books,
aur beech me ek mahogany table,
jiske upar coffee ka ek cup abhi bhi thoda dhuan chhod raha tha.
Camera pan karta hai:
Door khulne ki awaz —
andar aati hai Ishani aur Humera.
Humera ke chehre pe ab bhi tension ke saaye the,
lekin Ishani ke expression me ek determination tha —
wo ab dare hue insaan ki tarah nahi,
balki ek fighter ki tarah aayi thi.
Table ke us paar baithi thi Advocate Nandita Menon —
mid-40s, sharp eyes, calm posture,
aur ek confident smile jo kisi bhi client ko thoda assurance de sakti thi.
Nandita (file band karte hue):
“Ah, finally you’re here. Sit, both of you.”
Ishani (nervously): “Ma’am… kal ka case… thoda darr lag raha hai.”
Nandita ek deep sigh leti hai,
apni pencil ko ungliyon me ghumate hue bolti hai:
“Darr lagna zaruri hai, Ishani.
Wahi darr tumhe alert rakhega.
Lekin ek baat yaad rakhna — sach ko kabhi practice ki zarurat nahi hoti.”
Humera chup thi.
Uski aankhen Nandita ke chehre par tikki thi,
jaise kuch reassurance dhoond rahi ho.
Nandita (Humera ki taraf):
“Tumhe kal statement dena hoga —
poore court ke saamne.
Aur Vicky ke lawyer tumhe confuse karne ki koshish karega.
Par tumhare paas sabse bada weapon kya hai pata hai?”
Humera (halke se): “Sach…”
Nandita (smiling): “Exactly.
Wahi cheez jo unke paas kabhi nahi hoti.”
Room me ek confidence ka layer chha jaata hai.
Ishani (thoda concern se):
“Ma’am, agar unhone paisa aur power use kiya to?”
Nandita (table par palm rakhte hue):
“Ishani, main 15 saal se criminal cases lad rahi hoon.
Mujhe maloom hai kaun paisa lagata hai aur kaun dil.
Aur main kabhi haar nahi maanti jab mere saath dil se ladne wale log hote hain.
Kal hum jeetenge, bas tum dono ko himmat nahi harni hai.”
Ek heavy silence room me ghoomta hai.
Window ke bahar se horn aur traffic ki awaazein aati hain —
Mumbai ki zindagi chalti rehti hai,
lekin yahan, teen auratein ek naye insaaf ke liye tayyar ho rahi thi.
Nandita file band karti hai,
aur apni diary me likhti hai:
“Tomorrow – Case 47A: State vs Vicky Rathod — Let truth make the noise.”
Nandita (khade hote hue):
“Humera, kal court me rona mat.
Tears sympathy nahi dete,
confidence jeet dilata hai.
Aur Ishani…” (ek halka smile)
“...tumhare jaise log mujhe yaad dilate hain
ki activism sirf rallies me nahi, kabhi kabhi dil me bhi hoti hai.”
Ishani (muskurate hue): “Thank you, ma’am.”
Camera slow zoom out —
Nandita un dono ke saath window ke paas jaakar khadi hoti hai.
Teen silhouettes — ek lawyer, ek witness, aur ek savior —
sunset ki roshni me ek nayi ladayi ke liye ready.
Early Morning – Arti & Abhishek’s Bedroom
Subah ke 6 baje hain. Kamre me halki sooraj ki roshni parde ke kone se ghus rahi hai. Pankha dheere-dheere ghoom raha hai.
Abhishek ne aankh kholi — saamne Arti so rahi hai, uske baal thode bikhre hue, chehre par shanti.
Ek halka sa muskaan Abhishek ke chehre pe aata hai. Wo kareeb jaata hai, aur uske ghoonghat ke neeche se nikalte ek zulfe hatata hai.
Arti thoda sa hilli, aankhein aadhi khuli.
Arti (neend bhari awaaz me): “Abhishek… subah hui bhi hai?”
Abhishek (muskura kar): “Hui nahi… ab hone wali hai. Tumhari smile se din start karna chahta tha.”
Arti aankh uthakar dekhti hai, thoda blush karti hai.
Arti: “Bas karo… mummy ji uth gayi to?”
Abhishek: “Phir keh dena, aaj alarm main nahi tum thi…”
Wo hansi daba ke uthti hai, takiye se use halka sa dhakka deti hai.
Arti: “Tumhe har baat me mazaak chahiye… jao, main chai banane ja rahi hoon.”
Abhishek use rokta hai, uska haath pakadta hai, aur ek pal ke liye dono aankhon me dekhte hain — ek puri duniya si sukoon bhari nazar.
Phir Arti apna dupatta sambhalti hui hasti hai aur washroom ki taraf badh jaati hai.
Abhishek piche se kehta hai:
Abhishek (cheerfully): “Arti ji, chai me thoda extra pyaar daal dena!”
Arti bina mudhe sirf muskura deti hai —
Subah ke saath ek naya din shuru hota hai.
Scene: Morning – Arti’s Home (Kitchen to Bedroom)
Subah ab puri tarah se jag chuki hai. Kitchen me chai ki khushboo aur tadke ki halki si awaaz goonj rahi hai.
Arti ne breakfast ka aakhiri kaam khatam kar liya hai — gas band karti hai, apron utaarti hai aur hath dho kar apne dupatte se poochhti hai.
Uske chehre par ek shaant si satisfaction hai, jaise ghar ke kaam ke sath-sath usne apna din jeet liya ho.
Arti (apne aap se halki si muskura kar):
“Ab thoda khud ke liye waqt…”
Wo jaldi se kitchen ki lights off karti hai aur seedha apne kamre ki taraf badh jaati hai.
Room me abhishek ka office bag pada hai, parde se halki dhoop andar aa rahi hai.
Arti wardrobe ke saamne khadi hoti hai — almari kholte hi ek halki khushbu uske kapdon se nikalti hai.
Saree ke neatly folded sections ek ek kar ke nazar aate hain — cottons, silks, light prints, aur kuchh special occasions wali.
Uske haath ek pastel pink saree par ruk jaate hain — border par chhoti golden zari, bahut saalon se untouched.
Wo saree ko haath me leti hai, ungliyon se uska kapda mehsoos karti hai.
Chehre par ek halki si muskaan aa jaati hai — jaise koi yaad dimaag me ubhar aayi ho.
? Montage Begins (Soft Instrumental Music):
Arti mirror ke saamne khadi hai, saree ka pallu apne kandhe pe set kar rahi hai.
Baalon me clip lagati hai, ek chhoti si bindi chipkati hai.
Apne mangalsutra ko haath se theek karti hai.
Dresser ke mirror me apna reflection dekhti hai, ek second ke liye khud se aankhein milati hai.
Uske chehre par ek graceful confidence hai — Arti, ek wife, ek homemaker, aur ek Behen_Code team member.
Montage ke end me Arti ek halka sa kajal lagati hai, dupatta set karti hai, aur mirror ke samne muskura kar softly kehti hai —
“Ready… har front ke liye.”
Scene: Gyaan Ganga Library – Late Morning
Halki si hawa khidki se andar aa rahi hai, library ke andar ek sukoon bhara sa mahol hai.
Shelf ke beech me Arti apni favorite reading corner me baithi hai — ek wooden armchair, jahan se dhoop ki patli si rekh uske page par padti hai.
Table par chai ka ek cup ab thoda thanda ho chuka hai, aur uske haath me ek romantic–mystery novel hai — “The Scarlet Confession.”
Uska dhyaan puri tarah kitab me dooba hua hai.
Narration ke words uske chehre ke emotions ke sath blend hone lagte hain
kabhi halki muskaan, kabhi halki saans rok lena.
? Voice Over (as if novel ke lines uske dimaag me guj rahi ho):
“...Usne uske paas aakar uske baalon ko halki si ungliyon se hataya,
aur bola — tum jaanti ho, tum khud ek raaz ho…”
Arti ke haath ki ungliyan page ke upar ruk jaati hain.
Wo page ke corners ko thoda press karti hai, jaise us moment me khud us heroine ki jagah ho.
Uske aankhon me ek dreamy glow hai, lips pe ek faint smile.
Chair me thoda adjust karte hue wo peeche tilt hoti hai, ek lamha ke liye aankhein band karti hai —
aur bina notice kiye uska saree ka pallu dheere se shoulder se slide hokar neeche girta hai.
Hawa thodi tez chalti hai, uske baal halki si hilte hain,
aur wo apne aap me gum — ek kahani ke beech apni kahani likhne lagti hai.
Arti abhi bhi conscious nahi hai apni haalat par
Uska pyara sa cleavage uske pallu ke hatne se nazar aata hai jo uske dono santro ke bich ki darar ko saaf saaf zaahir kar raha tha
Lekin Arti apni haalat se abhi bhi anjaan thi
Ek tez hawa ka jhonka or aata hai or Arti ke hair slow motion me udne lagte hai
Hawa ka jhonka aur tez ho gaya hai. Shelfon ke beech se kuchh papers udd kar hawa me hilte hue Arti ke paas girte hain.Wo apni kitab me ab bhi doobi hui hai ankhein us page ke shabdon me khoi hui, jaise duniya ka sab shor uske liye band ho gaya ho.
Uske baal hawa ke saath nache ja rahe hain, dhoop ke ek tukde me wo pal ek tasveer sa ban gaya hai — ek soft, unguarded moment.
Lekin Library me koi ek shakhs khada hai,
shaayad koi unknown admirer.
Uske haath me ek file hai, par uski nazar sirf ek chehre par tik gayi hai Arti par.
Arti ke husn ka yeh nazara usko deewana banane ke liye kaafi tha.
Uske chehre ki calmness, uski aadat ki simplicity, aur wo khoyi hui muskaan
kuch aisa tha jo us insaan ko ruk jane par majboor kar gaya.
Camera angle shift hota hai —
door se wo person dheere se ek kadam aage badhta hai,
par turant ruk jaata hai…
ek respect bhare hesitation ke saath.
Bas itna hi moment tha —
ek pal ke liye Arti ek kahani me khoi thi,
aur koi aur us kahani me usse kho gaya tha.
Ek soft trrring trrring ki aawaaz ne Arti ka saara trance tod diya.
Uska mobile counter par vibrate kar raha tha —
screen par kuch missed calls from Ishani blink kar rahi thi.
Arti ka dhyaan jaise achanak reality me wapas aa gaya.
Usne halki si saans li, aankhein blink ki, aur tabhi —
uska nazar library ke glass door ke paar kisi par tik gayi.
Wahi ladka formal shirt me, sleeves folded,
ek file haath me liye hue —
jaise bas kuch bolne hi wala ho, par ruk gaya ho.
Dono ki nazrein ek pal ke liye milti hain.
Khaamoshi me bhi ek ajeeb si garmahat thi.
Arti ke chehre par ek halka sa surprise aur sharam ka rang ubhar aata hai,
aur tabhi use apni haalat ka ehsaas hota hai —
uske baal bikre hue, pallu shoulder se halka sa phisla hua,
aur uske haath me ab bhi wo open novel.
Wo ek jhatke me apni chair ghum deti hai,
baalon ko sametkar pin lagati hai, pallu ko sambhalti hai,
aur apna sans le kar ek composed librarian mode me wapas aati hai.
Phir, dheere se, wo wapas mud kar dekhti hai —
lekin wo ladka…
kahin nahi tha.
Sirf door se dhoop ke ek tukde me hawa me hilta hua ek page,
aur ek ajnabi sa khayaal,
jo uske mann me chhode gaya tha —
kaun tha wo? aur kyun aaya tha?
Arti phone uthati hai,
ek halki si muskaan ke sath — jaise khud se keh rahi ho:
“Bas… kitabein hi toh padh rahi thi main…”
Camera zoom out karta hai —
Gyaan Ganga Library ke us shant mahaul me,
sirf ek kahani ki nayi file khul chuki thi.
Scene: College Campus – Present Day, Afternoon
Campus ke ek kone me purani stone-bench ke paas Anisha apni notebook me kuch likh rahi thi.
Uske aas-paas ka mahaul usual tha —
canteen se uthti samose ki khushboo,
door se debate team ka shor,
aur unke beech ek chhoti si shaanti, jisme Anisha ka focus bas uske notes par tha.
Ek halki hawa chali, aur uske paper hilne lage.
Anisha ne unhe sambhalne ke liye haath badhaya hi tha
ki koi aawaz aayi —
“Careful… warna tumhare notes phir se hawa me ud jaayenge.”
Wo pal bhar ke liye ruki,
aur jaise hi usne sir uthaya —
uske saamne Kabir khada tha.
Same mischievous smile,
jo us din seminar ke bahar takraate waqt thi.
Anisha (thoda chonki, par composed):
“Oh… tum? Again?”
Kabir (muskurate hue):
“Haan, again. Lagta hai tum mujhe stalk kar rahi ho.”
Anisha (eyebrow utha ke):
“Excuse me? Pehle tum takraaye the, ab yahan aa gaye ho. Stalker tum lag rahe ho.”
Kabir hans padta hai, bench ke corner par baith jaata hai,
apna bag ek side rakhta hai.
Dono ke beech ek awkward-si khaamoshi hoti hai,
phir Anisha ice-break karti hai —
Anisha: “Waise aaj kaunsa seminar dekhne aaye ho?
Ya bas hawa khane?”
Kabir (thoda casual): “Marketing trends wala.
Actually mere ek friend ne bola tha wahan free snacks milte hain.”
Anisha uske jawab par hansi rok nahi paati.
Uski aankhon me ek halka sa sparkle aa jaata hai —
pehli baar wo thoda khul kar hasti hai.
Anisha: “Toh tum seminar snacks ke liye attend karte ho?”
Kabir: “Bilkul. Knowledge toh YouTube se mil jaati hai,
seminar me samose milte hain.”
Dono ke beech ek chhoti si laughter exchange hoti hai.
Kuch seconds tak sirf hawa aur unki hansi ke echoes sunai dete hain.
Phir ek pal ke liye dono chup ho jaate hain —
na awkward, na forced,
bas ek calm comfort.
Kabir (softly): “Waise tum… har waqt itni serious rehti ho?”
Anisha (thoda smile karte hue): “Shayad… par tumhare jaise log dekh kar thoda change karne ka mann karta hai.”
Kabir halka sa blush karta hai,
aur camera un dono ke chehre par focus karta hai —
ek anjaan si warmth, ek not-yet-friend wali vibe.
Bell bajti hai.
Anisha apni notebook band karti hai,
Kabir uth kar bag pehenta hai.
Kabir: “Phir milte hain… Miss Focused.”
Anisha (smiling softly): “Phir milte hain… Mr. Snacks.”
Dono opposite directions me chalte hain,
aur background me slow guitar strum ke sath frame fade out ho jaata hai.
Scene: Aaji ka Ghar – Shaam Ka Waqt
Hawa me shaam ki ek purani si khushboo thi —
jaise kuch purani yaadein wapas aayi ho.
Aaji ka drawing room — wahi purana sofa,
ek side par chai ke cup, dusri taraf ek file open,
aur beech me woh “Behen_Code” ke teen members —
Ishani, Anushka aur Anisha — serious chehre ke sath baithe hue.
Rahat or Arti ka voice Bluetooth speaker se sunai de raha tha,
uski usual teasing tone ke bajaye aaj ek heavy calmness thi.
Ishani: “Aaj ka din important hai… kal hearing hai.
Hum sabko apni statement ekdum clear deni hai.”
Aaji ek corner me silently baithi sabko dekh rahi thi,
unki aankhen Ishani par tikki thi — jaise samajh rahi ho
ki aaj uske andar kuch aur hi toofan chal raha hai.
Doorbell bajti hai.
Ishani khud uth kar jaati hai.
Darwaza khulne par saamne Humera khadi thi —
simple suit me, aankhon me thoda darr aur thoda hosla.
Ishani (muskurate hue): “Aao Humera, andar aao.
Tumse milo — ye meri team hai.”
Humera dheere se room me aati hai.
Anisha pehle haath badhati hai — “Hi… I’m Anisha.”
Anushka ek supportive smile ke sath — “Bank me kaam karti hoon,
par zyada kaam yahan dil se hota hai.”
Bluetooth se Rahat ki awaaz aati hai —
“Aur main hoon Rahat, awaazon ki duniya se,
aaj kuch zyada serious mood me hoon.”
Room me thoda halka laughter ghoom jaata hai,
thoda tension kam ho jaata hai.
Ishani (serious tone me): “Humera, kal tumhe court me bold rehna hoga.
Vicky Mehra powerful hai, lekin usse bhi zyada powerful sach hota hai.”
Humera halki si haan me sir hilati hai,
uske haath me abhi bhi uski dadi ki tasveer thi.
Wo tasveer usne apni ungliyon me kas ke pakad rakhi thi.
Anushka: “Jo log paison ke dam par insaaf khareedte hain,
wo ye bhool jaate hain ki har case me evidence nahi —
kisi ka zameer bhi gawahi deta hai.”
Arti ki awaaz fir ghoomti hai speaker me:
“Humera, tu akeli nahi hai.
Kal agar tujhe darr lage, to sochna ki hum sab tere sath court ke andar nahi,
court ke andar tere jazbe me honge.”
Ek halki si smile Humera ke chehre par aa jaati hai.
Uski aankhon me aansu bhi hain, aur ek naya confidence bhi.
Aaji (dheere se): “Betiyan kabhi haar nahi maanti…
Bas unhe yaad dilane ke liye ek behen zaroor chahiye hoti hai.”
Silence.
Room me ek emotional pause chha jaata hai.
Ishani ek deep breath leti hai —
“Kal sirf case nahi jeetna hai… kal dar ko harana hai.”
Sab ek dusre ki taraf dekhti hain —
ek silent nod, ek team jise kisi ne naam nahi diya,
par jiska mission sabse bada tha: “Behen_Code.”
Camera dheere dheere zoom out hota hai —
table par ek file padi hai jisme likha hai “State vs. Vicky Mehra”,
aur us file ke upar Aaji ke haath tikke hain,
jaise wo dua kar rahi ho kisi unseen himmat ke liye.
Scene: Lawyer’s Office – Shaam ka waqt (Court ke ek din pehle)
Ek soft golden light window ke blind se andar aa rahi thi.
Room me files ka ek organized sa jungle tha —
ek corner me Indian Penal Code ki moti-moti books,
aur beech me ek mahogany table,
jiske upar coffee ka ek cup abhi bhi thoda dhuan chhod raha tha.
Camera pan karta hai:
Door khulne ki awaz —
andar aati hai Ishani aur Humera.
Humera ke chehre pe ab bhi tension ke saaye the,
lekin Ishani ke expression me ek determination tha —
wo ab dare hue insaan ki tarah nahi,
balki ek fighter ki tarah aayi thi.
Table ke us paar baithi thi Advocate Nandita Menon —
mid-40s, sharp eyes, calm posture,
aur ek confident smile jo kisi bhi client ko thoda assurance de sakti thi.
Nandita (file band karte hue):
“Ah, finally you’re here. Sit, both of you.”
Ishani (nervously): “Ma’am… kal ka case… thoda darr lag raha hai.”
Nandita ek deep sigh leti hai,
apni pencil ko ungliyon me ghumate hue bolti hai:
“Darr lagna zaruri hai, Ishani.
Wahi darr tumhe alert rakhega.
Lekin ek baat yaad rakhna — sach ko kabhi practice ki zarurat nahi hoti.”
Humera chup thi.
Uski aankhen Nandita ke chehre par tikki thi,
jaise kuch reassurance dhoond rahi ho.
Nandita (Humera ki taraf):
“Tumhe kal statement dena hoga —
poore court ke saamne.
Aur Vicky ke lawyer tumhe confuse karne ki koshish karega.
Par tumhare paas sabse bada weapon kya hai pata hai?”
Humera (halke se): “Sach…”
Nandita (smiling): “Exactly.
Wahi cheez jo unke paas kabhi nahi hoti.”
Room me ek confidence ka layer chha jaata hai.
Ishani (thoda concern se):
“Ma’am, agar unhone paisa aur power use kiya to?”
Nandita (table par palm rakhte hue):
“Ishani, main 15 saal se criminal cases lad rahi hoon.
Mujhe maloom hai kaun paisa lagata hai aur kaun dil.
Aur main kabhi haar nahi maanti jab mere saath dil se ladne wale log hote hain.
Kal hum jeetenge, bas tum dono ko himmat nahi harni hai.”
Ek heavy silence room me ghoomta hai.
Window ke bahar se horn aur traffic ki awaazein aati hain —
Mumbai ki zindagi chalti rehti hai,
lekin yahan, teen auratein ek naye insaaf ke liye tayyar ho rahi thi.
Nandita file band karti hai,
aur apni diary me likhti hai:
“Tomorrow – Case 47A: State vs Vicky Rathod — Let truth make the noise.”
Nandita (khade hote hue):
“Humera, kal court me rona mat.
Tears sympathy nahi dete,
confidence jeet dilata hai.
Aur Ishani…” (ek halka smile)
“...tumhare jaise log mujhe yaad dilate hain
ki activism sirf rallies me nahi, kabhi kabhi dil me bhi hoti hai.”
Ishani (muskurate hue): “Thank you, ma’am.”
Camera slow zoom out —
Nandita un dono ke saath window ke paas jaakar khadi hoti hai.
Teen silhouettes — ek lawyer, ek witness, aur ek savior —
sunset ki roshni me ek nayi ladayi ke liye ready.
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