08-12-2025, 11:49 PM
Episode 17
EXT. COLLEGE CAMPUS PARK – LATE AFTERNOON
Ek shaant sa park — pedon ke beech se halki dhoop nikal rahi hai, hawayein halki si chal rahi hain.
Background me kuch students groups me baatein kar rahe hain, kuch bench par hansi-mazaak kar rahe hain.
Ek corner bench par Anisha bethi hai — ek diary uske haath me hai, lekin likhne se zyada wo us diary ke pages ko bas palat rahi hai...
Uske chehre par wo light, thoughtful sa expression hai — jaise mann me kuch chal raha ho.
Uske hair thodi hawa me udte hain, aur camera dheere se uske nazar ke direction me shift hota hai...
wo crowd ke beech kuch dhoondh rahi hai.
Ek halki si smile aati hai uske lips par, jaise khud pe hi hansi aa gayi ho.
Diary band karke wo apne bag me rakhti hai, aur tabhi ek ball uske pair ke paas aakar ruk jaati hai.
Wo jhuk kar ball uthati hai, aur peeche se ek awaaz aati hai —
KABIR (offscreen, thoda tease karte hue):
“Ab tum ball nahi dogi toh main fir se seminar attend karne aa jaunga.”
Anisha jhat se mudti hai — Kabir khada hai, usual confident smile ke sath, haath me ek file.
Wo casual shirt aur faded jeans me hai, par aankhon me wo same mischievous sparkle.
Anisha (hair tuck karte hue, thoda composed):
“Tum har jagah seminar dhoondhne aate ho ya bas excuse bana lete ho?”
Kabir (muskurate hue):
“Excuse nahi... reason kehta hoon. Seminar ke notes bhi toh tumse lene the.”
Anisha aankhon me aankhon daal kar kehti hai —
“Notes ke bahane milne aana purani trick hai Kabir.”
Kabir (thoda saacta hua):
“Tumhe lagta hai main itna filmy hoon?”
Anisha:
“Tumhe dekh kar koi bhi bol dega ki ho.”
Dono ke beech halki si hansi phail jaati hai.
Atmosphere suddenly light ho jaata hai —
birds ki awaaz, background me laughter, aur ek slow, youthful vibe.
Ek pal ke liye dono ke beech wo awkward silence hota hai — wo silence jo ek nayi dosti ke pehle aata hai.
Kabir diary ki taraf ishara karta hai —
“Tum likhti ho?”
Anisha sir hila deti hai, smile ke sath —
“Bas kabhi kabhi... jab koi seminar interesting lagta hai.”
Dono fir se hansi me kho jaate hain.
Kabir bench ke ek kone par baith jaata hai, aur Anisha doosre.
Camera upar se shot leta hai — dono ek hi bench par, beech me ek chhoti si distance...
jo dheere dheere kam hone wali hai.
FADE OUT.
(Soft background track: ek calm guitar theme, dosti aur new connection ka hint deta hua.)
INT. RESTAURANT – EVENING TIME
Soft jazz music chal raha hai. Kitchen se plates aur cutlery ki halki awaaz aa rahi hai.
Outside tables par kuch customers dinner enjoy kar rahe hain.
Camera shift hota hai corner table par — Ishani aur Humera bethi hain.
Dono ke saamne half-finished coffee mugs rakhe hain, aur table par kuch papers aur phone screens khuli hain — jaise kuch tracking ya notes ka discussion chal raha ho.
Humera (thoda frustrated tone me):
“Ek hafta ho gaya Ishani… ek poora hafta.
Na Rahat ke link kaam aaye,
na Anisha ke contact se kuch nikla.
Sab kuch blank chal raha hai.”
Wo apne phone ko table par patak kar thoda peeche ho jaati hai.
Uske chehre par thakan aur gussa dono hai.
Ishani (calm voice me, coffee sip karte hue):
“Relax Humera… itna jaldi haar nahi maante hum.
Kabhi-kabhi kuch clues dikhte tab hain jab hum unhe dhoondhna chhod dete hain.”
Humera (thoda tikhhi hansi ke sath):
“Tumhe toh sab romantic movie lines yaad rehti hain...
par ground reality me sab kuch slow hai.”
Ishani (smiling, lekin serious tone me):
“Slow hai… lekin rukta nahi.
Rahat apne level pe check kar rahi hai,
Anisha ko college side se kuch milega shayad.
Aur hum dono ko yahan se kuch naya plan banana hoga.”
Or dono hi naye sire se sochne lagte hain, ki ab aage kya kiya jaye...
INT. RAHAT KA BEDROOM – NIGHT
Rahat apna mic aur headphone table par rakhti hai, studio se ghar aayi thi — lekin aaj uske chehre par woh usual “show ke baad wali” smile nahi thi.
Room me halke neon lights chal rahe the, unka soft glow uske thake chehre par padta hai.
Wo apne bistar par jaa kar let jaati hai, shoes utare bina.
Ek haath aankhon par rakhti hai, dusre se blanket kheenchti hai.
KUCH LAMHE ke liye khamoshi.
Lekin neend use chhune nahi aati.
Karwatein badalti hai... ek baar, do baar... fir huff kar ke uth baithti hai.
Rahat (aap se):
Uff… dimag bilkul band nahi hota...
Wo bottle se thoda paani peeti hai, aur fir balcony ki taraf chal padti hai.
EXT. BALCONY – CONTINUOUS
Hawa me thandi nami hai.
Niche sadak par ek aadha light pole jal raha hai...
Rahat railing par dono haath rakh kar aasman ki taraf dekhti hai —
Kuch sochti hai, kuch mehsoos karti hai.
Aasman ke neeche wo khud ko chhoti mehsoos karti hai —
Aur fir, ek halki si muskaan uske chehre par ubhar aati hai, jaise kisi purani yaad ne use choo liya ho.
FLASHBACK – RADIO STATION (3 YEARS AGO)
Ek purana, cozy studio.
Sameer — late 20s, charming aur confident RJ — ek mic ke saamne baitha hai.
Rahat uske samne khadi, ek nayi intern.
Sameer (muskura kar):
“Mic se dosti kar lo, Rahat.
Wo tumhara sabse loyal dost banega.”
Rahat (thoda ghabraye hue):
“Par mujhe apni awaaz pasand nahi…”
Sameer (hans kar):
“Har RJ yahi kehta hai jab tak uski awaaz kisi ke dil me nahi utar jaati.”
Rahat halka sa sharma jaati hai, Sameer ke words use ek nayi himmat dete hain.
FLASHBACK 2 – OUTDOOR CAFÉ – EVENING
Rahat aur Sameer ek chhoti café me baithe hain.
Coffee cups ke beech hansi, baatein, aur unke beech ek unsaid comfort.
Sameer (teasing tone me):
“Tum kabhi serious hoti bhi ho?”
Rahat:
“Jab tum show chura lete ho mujhse.”
Dono hansi me kho jaate hain.
Camera slow zoom karta hai Rahat ke chehre par —
wo us waqt bilkul carefree, khush thi.
BACK TO PRESENT – BALCONY
Hawa uske baal hila rahi hai.
Rahat aankhon me nami ke sath halki si smile karti hai.
Wo balcony se andar jaane lagti hai, lekin ek baar palat kar aasman ko fir dekhti hai —
jaise kah rahi ho,
“Main ab bhi wahi khadi hoon....
Aur camera dheere-dheere uske chehre se door zoom karta hai —
ek tanha, lekin himmatwali Rahat, jo apni duniya me ab bhi khadi hai... Sameer ke yaadon ke sath.
INT. BANK – MORNING (NEXT DAY)
Soft light ke beech bank ka hall slowly busy ho raha hai.
Counter khul gaye hain, staff apni system screens on kar rahe hain.
Anushka neatly dressed hai — navy blue formal suit, hair tied in a bun.
Uske chehre par woh usual calm professionalism hai, lekin aankhon ke neeche neend ki kami dikh rahi hai.
Wo apni desk par baith kar system login karti hai…
Screen blink hoti hai — "Good Morning, Ms. Anushka."
Aur tabhi ek new mail notification pop-up karta hai.
? SUBJECT: Still Remember That Glitch?
From: ***. unknownwellwisher.co
Anushka ek second ke liye freeze ho jaati hai.
Uske dil ki dhadkane thodi badh jaati hain.
Usne kal raat bhi is ID ko dekha tha…
Usne socha tha koi prank ya spam hoga — par ye ID phir se active?
Wo halki si breath le kar mail kholti hai.
> MAIL BODY:
“Kuch cheezein galti se nahi hoti, Ms. Anushka.
Kal raat system crash hua kyunki kuch log purani files ko zinda rakhna chahte hain.
Shayad tumhe bhi unhe dekhna chahiye —
Folder: OLD_SEC_CASE_2007”
Mail ke neeche ek aur line blink kar rahi hoti hai —
> “Don’t trust anyone.”
Anushka turant apne surroundings scan karti hai —
Nearby staff, guards, log customers ke sath busy hain.
Sab kuch normal lag raha hai.
Lekin uske dil me ek ajeeb si ghabrahat baith jaati hai.
Wo apne system me quietly search karti hai —
OLD_SEC_CASE_2007
Screen me file appear hoti hai — lekin access locked:
? “Restricted — Admin Only”
Anushka ke fingers hawa me freeze ho jaate hain.
“Admin access? Par mere papa hi the eklaute admin…”
Wo halki si sigh karti hai, monitor se nazar hata kar apne table ke glass me reflection dekhti hai —
aur ek moment ke liye lagta hai jaise koi uske piche se dekh raha ho.
Lekin jab wo palat kar dekhti hai, koi nahi.
Sirf ek senior employee corridor me guzar raha hota hai —
polite smile deta hua… Jeevan Uncle.
(Background me uski calm, friendly personality dikhti hai, bas ek subtle frame — no suspicion yet.)
Anushka muskurane ki koshish karti hai, lekin uska mind ab bhi us mail ke words me atka hua hai:
> “Don’t trust anyone.”
Camera dheere zoom karta hai Anushka ke monitor par —
Locked file ka naam blink karta hai:
OLD_SEC_CASE_2007
aur neeche ek faint line likhi hoti hai:
“Created by: R. Sharma”
Anushka ka face stiff ho jaata hai —
“Papa…”
Screen fade out hoti hai, soft tension music ke sath.
INT. RADIO STATION – MORNING VIBES
Glass cabin ke bahar hustle chal rahi hai — interns coffee cups leke bhaag rahe hain,
background me koi speaker test kar raha hai —
“Check… one, two, mic testing!”
aur beech me entry hoti hai Rahat ki —
apne trademark tote bag ke sath, thodi messy bun, aur aankhon me wo usual confident sparkle.
Rahat: (andar aate hue)
Good morning, radio ke warriors!
Kaun ready hai duniya ko apne sweet jhoot sunane ke liye?
Rafi (sound engineer) — headphones utarte hue hansa:
Madam, hum jhoot nahi, “emotionally edited sach” sunate hain!
Rahat: (laugh kar)
Accha? Toh kal ki weather report me bhi emotion daala tha kya?
“Baarish ki sambhaavna hai… agar clouds chahein toh.”
Kya hai yeh Rafi? Cloud ka mood swing?
Sab hansi me phat padte hain.
Intern Meera:
Rahat di, aapke bina show ka mood hi dry lagta hai…
Aapko dekhte hi lagta hai ki TRP badhne wali hai!
Rahat:
(haath utha kar dramatize karti hai)
Beta TRP nahi, HRP — “Heart Rate per Person!”
Mujhe sunte hi sabka heart thoda fast chalne lagta hai.
Rafi:
Aur Sameer sir ke show ka kya?
Aapke fans ke comments me likha tha,
“Rahat mam is the female Sameer!”
Rahat ek pal ke liye ruk jaati hai —
uske chehre par thodi si awkward si muskaan…
phir woh turant apni witty tone me wapas:
Rahat:
Haan haan, Sameer sir toh radio ke Shah Rukh Khan hain…
Main bas unki remake hoon — thodi realistic version.
Sab fir se hans padte hain.
Rahat mic ke samne baithti hai,
apna headphone pehenti hai aur On-Air light jalti hai —
ek confident smile ke sath wo kehne lagti hai:
Rahat (On Air):
“Namaste doston, yeh hai Rahat aapke dil ke FM par…
Aaj hum baat karenge un logon ki jo haste hue dard chhupa lete hain…
kyonki unka sense of humor unki armor hoti hai.”
Camera dheere zoom karta hai —
Rahat ke chehre par wo confident charm wapas aa gaya hai,
lekin uski aankhon me ek chhoti si udasi ab bhi chhupi hai…
INT. RADIO STATION – LATE EVENING
Show khatam ho chuka hai. Studio me ab sirf machinery ki halki hmmmmm sound bachi hai.
“ON AIR” ka red bulb bujh chuka hai, aur office ke log ek ek karke nikal rahe hain.
Rahat apni chair par pichhe tak tikti hai —
headphones table par rakh diye hain,
aur mic ke reflection me wo khud ko kuch pal ke liye dekhti rehti hai.
Uske chehre par wo usual confident smile gayab hai —
sirf thoda sa silence, aur halki si bechaini.
Wahi silence jisme yaadein apne aap chhupkar aa jati hain.
---
FLASHBACK STARTS — RADIO STATION, 3 SAAL PEHLE
Young Rahat — naye radio intern ke roop me — nervously mic ke samne baithi hai.
Uske samne khada hai Sameer, ek energetic aur charming senior RJ,
jiski aankhon me hamesha thoda humor aur thoda compassion hota hai.
Sameer:
Relax Rahat… mic ko dost samjho, interview nahi.
Yahan koi judge nahi karega — bas bolo dil se.
Rahat: (smile karte hue, thoda shaky voice)
Dil se?
Mujhe lagta hai dil ke paas dictionary honi chahiye…
main confuse ho jati hoon kya bolu aur kya chhupa lu.
Sameer hansa — wo simple, genuine laughter jisme ek mentor ka warmth tha.
Sameer:
Bas wahi toh radio ka magic hai.
Jo cheez duniya se chhupani ho, uske bare me poem likh do,
aur jo dil me dabake rakhi ho — usse ek RJ ki line bana do.
Rahat use dekhti hai,
aur pehli baar Sameer ke shabdon me apni pehchaan dikhai deti hai.
FLASHBACK FADE OUT
---
BACK TO PRESENT
Rahat apne desk se Sameer ka ek purana coffee mug uthati hai —
us mug ke niche likha hai:
“Mic is my therapy.”
Wo mug ko halki muskaan ke sath dekhti hai,
aur phir whisper karti hai:
Rahat:
Tere jaane ke baad bhi mic mera dost bana raha, Sameer…
bas kabhi kabhi yaad aa jata hai tu bhi therapy tha.
Uske phone me notification aata hai —
“Show Recording Saved: Rahat – ‘Dard ke peeche ka smile’”
Rahat mug ko wapas table par rakhti hai,
studio ki lights off karti hai,
aur halki saans lekar kehti hai:
Rahat (softly):
Chalo Rahat, show khatam… par story abhi baaki hai.
Wo apna bag utha kar studio se nikalti hai.
Background me halki guitar tone bajti hai — wahi tune jo Sameer bajaya karta tha.
Scene: College Canteen – Afternoon
Canteen me hamesha ki tarah students ki bheed thi — laughter, coffee cups ki khanak, aur gossip ki halke halke echo.
Corner ki ek table par Anisha akeli baithi thi.
Samne ek notebook, ek half-eaten sandwich, aur uski nazrein — khidki ke bahar, park ki taraf.
Wahi park jaha wo subah bethi thi…
Wahi jaha usne us ladke ko dekha tha — Kabir.
Uski aankhon me aaj bhi wohi halki si talash thi… jaise wo khud bhi nahi jaanti kis chehre ko dhoond rahi hai.
Tabhi ek awaaz aayi — “Tu fir se akeli?”
Uski dost Mitali tray lekar saamne baith gayi.
Anisha ne muskurate hue kaha, “Nahi… bas soch rahi thi thoda.”
Mitali ne teasing tone me poocha, “Soch rahi thi ya kisi ke bare me soch rahi thi?”
Anisha ne aankhon se muskaan chhupate hue kaha, “Kya farq padta hai...”
Mitali ne hans kar kaha, “Farq padta hai jab tu khud bhi nahi jaanti kiske bare me likh rahi hai.”
Anisha ne apni notebook band kar di, “Bas likhne se halka lagta hai.”
Tabhi uske phone me vibration hui —
“Message from Arti Di – BEHEN_CODE group chat”
> “Vicky ke case me new info mili hai. Aaj raat 9 baje video call.”
Anisha ne phone ko dekha, halki si tension uske chehre par thi.
Mitali ne poocha, “Sab theek hai?”
Anisha ne muskaan di, “Haan, bas thoda important kaam hai.”
Wo apni notebook band karke nikalti hai,
Lekin camera focus karta hai us page ke corner par —
Jahan likha hota hai ek naam, thoda faint ink me:
“Kabir.”
Anisha us page ko jaldi se fold kar deti hai, jaise apne dil ka ek raaz chhupa rahi ho.
---
(Transition)
Background me soft music chalta hai —
Canteen ka shor dheere dheere fade hota hai,
aur screen black hone se pehle ek line likhi aati hai:
> “Kabhi kabhi kisi ajnabi ka naam bhi dil me utar jaata hai, bina bulaye.”
Scene: Bank – Late Morning
Sunlight bank ke glass doors se andar gir rahi thi.
Counters pe customers ka aana–jaana tha, keyboards ki tapping aur printers ke paper roll ki khatak…
Anushka apni seat par baithi thi — crisp white shirt, neatly tied bun — lekin uska dhyaan files me kam, apne system ke monitor par zyada tha.
Screen par ek new mail notification blink kar raha tha:
Subject: “Still curious, Miss Sharma?”
Sender: [email protected]
Uske haath thode the — hesitate karte hue cursor click karta hai.
Mail open hota hai —
Sirf ek line likhi thi:
> “Sometimes the past doesn’t stay buried — especially when you dig too deep.”
Anushka ka dil ek pal ke liye ruk gaya.
Usne screen ke ird–gird dekha… sab kuch normal tha.
Colleagues apne kaam me busy.
Bas ek aadmi — Sumit, uska junior — side se uski table ki taraf dekh raha tha.
Anushka ne casual smile di, taaki apne expressions chhupa sake.
“Everything okay, ma’am?” Sumit ne poocha.
Anushka ne turant screen minimize kar diya, “Haan, bas ek audit mail tha.”
Sumit ne nod kiya aur chala gaya.
Anushka ne ek gehri saans li…
Apne system se log out karke washroom ki taraf gayi.
Mirror ke saamne ruk kar apne reflection ko dekhti hai.
Aankhon me ek halki si ghabrahat, par saath hi wo confidence jisse wo roz mask ki tarah pehenti hai.
“Tum koi bhi game khel rahe ho,” — usne dheere se apne reflection se kaha — “Main haarne wali nahi ho.”
She splashes cold water on her face,
aur background me ek subtle sound cue — jaise koi type kar raha ho…
Cut to —
Bank ke server room ka corner,
Ek screen me open ek admin panel… aur wahan likha hota hai —
‘User: jeevan**citybank.in – Active session.’
(But sirf audience ke liye — Anushka ke liye nahi.)
Camera dheere dheere zoom out karta hai,
Anushka phir se apni desk par aati hai,
Mail delete karti hai,
Aur apni diary me likhti hai —
> “Day 2 – Something’s off. But I’ll find out.”
Scene: Ishani’s Restaurant – Late Evening
Restaurant ka ambience halka shaant hai.
Tables aadhe khaali, lights thodi dim ho chuki hain.
Ishani counter ke paas khadi hai, apne apron ka knot kholte hue — din bhar ki thakan uske chehre par dikh rahi hai.
Humera ab bhi usi corner table par baithi hai, coffee cup half-finished.
Dono ke beech ek uneasy silence hai — jaise case ki tension ab unke dimaag me ghul chuki ho.
Ishani (aate hue) – “Tu coffee khatam karegi ya main tere liye fridge me rakh du kal ke liye?”
(Halka sa teasing tone.)
Humera (thoda smile karte hue) – “Tumhe har baat me mazaak mil jata hai na?”
Ishani – “Haan… warna zindagi ka taste bland ho jata.”
Dono halki si hansi share karti hain.
Phir ek pal ka pause… Ishani serious ho jati hai.
Counter se lagkar khadi hoti hai, aur dheere se kehti hai —
“Par tujhe sach bataun, Humera… aaj kal mazaak bhi karu to guilt lagta hai. Jab tak wo case khatam nahi hota na, sab incomplete lagta hai.”
Humera (slowly) – “Mujhe lagta hai dadi ko insaaf milega. Par waqt lag raha hai… aur log keh rahe hain ki Vicky ke lawyer strong hain.”
Ishani – “Strong lawyer humare paas bhi hai. Aur sabse strong cheez kya hai pata hai?”
Humera (confused) – “Kya?”
Ishani – “Hum. Behen_Code. Jab hum kisi ke saath khade ho jaate hain… game change ho jata hai.”
Ek confident smile Ishani ke chehre par — wo cup uthati hai aur Humera ke samne rakh deti hai,
“Finish it. Kal se naya plan banana hai.”
Background me Ishani ka crush — wo curly-haired guitar wala ladka — restaurant ke bahar se guzarta hai, glass ke through ek pal ke liye Ishani ki taraf dekhta hai.
Wo bhi notice karti hai… bas ek pal ke liye nazrein milti hain.
Ishani ke chehre pe ek halke se blush ke saath confident smile —
Jaise zindagi ke stress ke beech ek chhoti si roshni jhalak gayi ho.
EXT. COLLEGE CAMPUS PARK – LATE AFTERNOON
Ek shaant sa park — pedon ke beech se halki dhoop nikal rahi hai, hawayein halki si chal rahi hain.
Background me kuch students groups me baatein kar rahe hain, kuch bench par hansi-mazaak kar rahe hain.
Ek corner bench par Anisha bethi hai — ek diary uske haath me hai, lekin likhne se zyada wo us diary ke pages ko bas palat rahi hai...
Uske chehre par wo light, thoughtful sa expression hai — jaise mann me kuch chal raha ho.
Uske hair thodi hawa me udte hain, aur camera dheere se uske nazar ke direction me shift hota hai...
wo crowd ke beech kuch dhoondh rahi hai.
Ek halki si smile aati hai uske lips par, jaise khud pe hi hansi aa gayi ho.
Diary band karke wo apne bag me rakhti hai, aur tabhi ek ball uske pair ke paas aakar ruk jaati hai.
Wo jhuk kar ball uthati hai, aur peeche se ek awaaz aati hai —
KABIR (offscreen, thoda tease karte hue):
“Ab tum ball nahi dogi toh main fir se seminar attend karne aa jaunga.”
Anisha jhat se mudti hai — Kabir khada hai, usual confident smile ke sath, haath me ek file.
Wo casual shirt aur faded jeans me hai, par aankhon me wo same mischievous sparkle.
Anisha (hair tuck karte hue, thoda composed):
“Tum har jagah seminar dhoondhne aate ho ya bas excuse bana lete ho?”
Kabir (muskurate hue):
“Excuse nahi... reason kehta hoon. Seminar ke notes bhi toh tumse lene the.”
Anisha aankhon me aankhon daal kar kehti hai —
“Notes ke bahane milne aana purani trick hai Kabir.”
Kabir (thoda saacta hua):
“Tumhe lagta hai main itna filmy hoon?”
Anisha:
“Tumhe dekh kar koi bhi bol dega ki ho.”
Dono ke beech halki si hansi phail jaati hai.
Atmosphere suddenly light ho jaata hai —
birds ki awaaz, background me laughter, aur ek slow, youthful vibe.
Ek pal ke liye dono ke beech wo awkward silence hota hai — wo silence jo ek nayi dosti ke pehle aata hai.
Kabir diary ki taraf ishara karta hai —
“Tum likhti ho?”
Anisha sir hila deti hai, smile ke sath —
“Bas kabhi kabhi... jab koi seminar interesting lagta hai.”
Dono fir se hansi me kho jaate hain.
Kabir bench ke ek kone par baith jaata hai, aur Anisha doosre.
Camera upar se shot leta hai — dono ek hi bench par, beech me ek chhoti si distance...
jo dheere dheere kam hone wali hai.
FADE OUT.
(Soft background track: ek calm guitar theme, dosti aur new connection ka hint deta hua.)
INT. RESTAURANT – EVENING TIME
Soft jazz music chal raha hai. Kitchen se plates aur cutlery ki halki awaaz aa rahi hai.
Outside tables par kuch customers dinner enjoy kar rahe hain.
Camera shift hota hai corner table par — Ishani aur Humera bethi hain.
Dono ke saamne half-finished coffee mugs rakhe hain, aur table par kuch papers aur phone screens khuli hain — jaise kuch tracking ya notes ka discussion chal raha ho.
Humera (thoda frustrated tone me):
“Ek hafta ho gaya Ishani… ek poora hafta.
Na Rahat ke link kaam aaye,
na Anisha ke contact se kuch nikla.
Sab kuch blank chal raha hai.”
Wo apne phone ko table par patak kar thoda peeche ho jaati hai.
Uske chehre par thakan aur gussa dono hai.
Ishani (calm voice me, coffee sip karte hue):
“Relax Humera… itna jaldi haar nahi maante hum.
Kabhi-kabhi kuch clues dikhte tab hain jab hum unhe dhoondhna chhod dete hain.”
Humera (thoda tikhhi hansi ke sath):
“Tumhe toh sab romantic movie lines yaad rehti hain...
par ground reality me sab kuch slow hai.”
Ishani (smiling, lekin serious tone me):
“Slow hai… lekin rukta nahi.
Rahat apne level pe check kar rahi hai,
Anisha ko college side se kuch milega shayad.
Aur hum dono ko yahan se kuch naya plan banana hoga.”
Or dono hi naye sire se sochne lagte hain, ki ab aage kya kiya jaye...
INT. RAHAT KA BEDROOM – NIGHT
Rahat apna mic aur headphone table par rakhti hai, studio se ghar aayi thi — lekin aaj uske chehre par woh usual “show ke baad wali” smile nahi thi.
Room me halke neon lights chal rahe the, unka soft glow uske thake chehre par padta hai.
Wo apne bistar par jaa kar let jaati hai, shoes utare bina.
Ek haath aankhon par rakhti hai, dusre se blanket kheenchti hai.
KUCH LAMHE ke liye khamoshi.
Lekin neend use chhune nahi aati.
Karwatein badalti hai... ek baar, do baar... fir huff kar ke uth baithti hai.
Rahat (aap se):
Uff… dimag bilkul band nahi hota...
Wo bottle se thoda paani peeti hai, aur fir balcony ki taraf chal padti hai.
EXT. BALCONY – CONTINUOUS
Hawa me thandi nami hai.
Niche sadak par ek aadha light pole jal raha hai...
Rahat railing par dono haath rakh kar aasman ki taraf dekhti hai —
Kuch sochti hai, kuch mehsoos karti hai.
Aasman ke neeche wo khud ko chhoti mehsoos karti hai —
Aur fir, ek halki si muskaan uske chehre par ubhar aati hai, jaise kisi purani yaad ne use choo liya ho.
FLASHBACK – RADIO STATION (3 YEARS AGO)
Ek purana, cozy studio.
Sameer — late 20s, charming aur confident RJ — ek mic ke saamne baitha hai.
Rahat uske samne khadi, ek nayi intern.
Sameer (muskura kar):
“Mic se dosti kar lo, Rahat.
Wo tumhara sabse loyal dost banega.”
Rahat (thoda ghabraye hue):
“Par mujhe apni awaaz pasand nahi…”
Sameer (hans kar):
“Har RJ yahi kehta hai jab tak uski awaaz kisi ke dil me nahi utar jaati.”
Rahat halka sa sharma jaati hai, Sameer ke words use ek nayi himmat dete hain.
FLASHBACK 2 – OUTDOOR CAFÉ – EVENING
Rahat aur Sameer ek chhoti café me baithe hain.
Coffee cups ke beech hansi, baatein, aur unke beech ek unsaid comfort.
Sameer (teasing tone me):
“Tum kabhi serious hoti bhi ho?”
Rahat:
“Jab tum show chura lete ho mujhse.”
Dono hansi me kho jaate hain.
Camera slow zoom karta hai Rahat ke chehre par —
wo us waqt bilkul carefree, khush thi.
BACK TO PRESENT – BALCONY
Hawa uske baal hila rahi hai.
Rahat aankhon me nami ke sath halki si smile karti hai.
Wo balcony se andar jaane lagti hai, lekin ek baar palat kar aasman ko fir dekhti hai —
jaise kah rahi ho,
“Main ab bhi wahi khadi hoon....
Aur camera dheere-dheere uske chehre se door zoom karta hai —
ek tanha, lekin himmatwali Rahat, jo apni duniya me ab bhi khadi hai... Sameer ke yaadon ke sath.
INT. BANK – MORNING (NEXT DAY)
Soft light ke beech bank ka hall slowly busy ho raha hai.
Counter khul gaye hain, staff apni system screens on kar rahe hain.
Anushka neatly dressed hai — navy blue formal suit, hair tied in a bun.
Uske chehre par woh usual calm professionalism hai, lekin aankhon ke neeche neend ki kami dikh rahi hai.
Wo apni desk par baith kar system login karti hai…
Screen blink hoti hai — "Good Morning, Ms. Anushka."
Aur tabhi ek new mail notification pop-up karta hai.
? SUBJECT: Still Remember That Glitch?
From: ***. unknownwellwisher.co
Anushka ek second ke liye freeze ho jaati hai.
Uske dil ki dhadkane thodi badh jaati hain.
Usne kal raat bhi is ID ko dekha tha…
Usne socha tha koi prank ya spam hoga — par ye ID phir se active?
Wo halki si breath le kar mail kholti hai.
> MAIL BODY:
“Kuch cheezein galti se nahi hoti, Ms. Anushka.
Kal raat system crash hua kyunki kuch log purani files ko zinda rakhna chahte hain.
Shayad tumhe bhi unhe dekhna chahiye —
Folder: OLD_SEC_CASE_2007”
Mail ke neeche ek aur line blink kar rahi hoti hai —
> “Don’t trust anyone.”
Anushka turant apne surroundings scan karti hai —
Nearby staff, guards, log customers ke sath busy hain.
Sab kuch normal lag raha hai.
Lekin uske dil me ek ajeeb si ghabrahat baith jaati hai.
Wo apne system me quietly search karti hai —
OLD_SEC_CASE_2007
Screen me file appear hoti hai — lekin access locked:
? “Restricted — Admin Only”
Anushka ke fingers hawa me freeze ho jaate hain.
“Admin access? Par mere papa hi the eklaute admin…”
Wo halki si sigh karti hai, monitor se nazar hata kar apne table ke glass me reflection dekhti hai —
aur ek moment ke liye lagta hai jaise koi uske piche se dekh raha ho.
Lekin jab wo palat kar dekhti hai, koi nahi.
Sirf ek senior employee corridor me guzar raha hota hai —
polite smile deta hua… Jeevan Uncle.
(Background me uski calm, friendly personality dikhti hai, bas ek subtle frame — no suspicion yet.)
Anushka muskurane ki koshish karti hai, lekin uska mind ab bhi us mail ke words me atka hua hai:
> “Don’t trust anyone.”
Camera dheere zoom karta hai Anushka ke monitor par —
Locked file ka naam blink karta hai:
OLD_SEC_CASE_2007
aur neeche ek faint line likhi hoti hai:
“Created by: R. Sharma”
Anushka ka face stiff ho jaata hai —
“Papa…”
Screen fade out hoti hai, soft tension music ke sath.
INT. RADIO STATION – MORNING VIBES
Glass cabin ke bahar hustle chal rahi hai — interns coffee cups leke bhaag rahe hain,
background me koi speaker test kar raha hai —
“Check… one, two, mic testing!”
aur beech me entry hoti hai Rahat ki —
apne trademark tote bag ke sath, thodi messy bun, aur aankhon me wo usual confident sparkle.
Rahat: (andar aate hue)
Good morning, radio ke warriors!
Kaun ready hai duniya ko apne sweet jhoot sunane ke liye?
Rafi (sound engineer) — headphones utarte hue hansa:
Madam, hum jhoot nahi, “emotionally edited sach” sunate hain!
Rahat: (laugh kar)
Accha? Toh kal ki weather report me bhi emotion daala tha kya?
“Baarish ki sambhaavna hai… agar clouds chahein toh.”
Kya hai yeh Rafi? Cloud ka mood swing?
Sab hansi me phat padte hain.
Intern Meera:
Rahat di, aapke bina show ka mood hi dry lagta hai…
Aapko dekhte hi lagta hai ki TRP badhne wali hai!
Rahat:
(haath utha kar dramatize karti hai)
Beta TRP nahi, HRP — “Heart Rate per Person!”
Mujhe sunte hi sabka heart thoda fast chalne lagta hai.
Rafi:
Aur Sameer sir ke show ka kya?
Aapke fans ke comments me likha tha,
“Rahat mam is the female Sameer!”
Rahat ek pal ke liye ruk jaati hai —
uske chehre par thodi si awkward si muskaan…
phir woh turant apni witty tone me wapas:
Rahat:
Haan haan, Sameer sir toh radio ke Shah Rukh Khan hain…
Main bas unki remake hoon — thodi realistic version.
Sab fir se hans padte hain.
Rahat mic ke samne baithti hai,
apna headphone pehenti hai aur On-Air light jalti hai —
ek confident smile ke sath wo kehne lagti hai:
Rahat (On Air):
“Namaste doston, yeh hai Rahat aapke dil ke FM par…
Aaj hum baat karenge un logon ki jo haste hue dard chhupa lete hain…
kyonki unka sense of humor unki armor hoti hai.”
Camera dheere zoom karta hai —
Rahat ke chehre par wo confident charm wapas aa gaya hai,
lekin uski aankhon me ek chhoti si udasi ab bhi chhupi hai…
INT. RADIO STATION – LATE EVENING
Show khatam ho chuka hai. Studio me ab sirf machinery ki halki hmmmmm sound bachi hai.
“ON AIR” ka red bulb bujh chuka hai, aur office ke log ek ek karke nikal rahe hain.
Rahat apni chair par pichhe tak tikti hai —
headphones table par rakh diye hain,
aur mic ke reflection me wo khud ko kuch pal ke liye dekhti rehti hai.
Uske chehre par wo usual confident smile gayab hai —
sirf thoda sa silence, aur halki si bechaini.
Wahi silence jisme yaadein apne aap chhupkar aa jati hain.
---
FLASHBACK STARTS — RADIO STATION, 3 SAAL PEHLE
Young Rahat — naye radio intern ke roop me — nervously mic ke samne baithi hai.
Uske samne khada hai Sameer, ek energetic aur charming senior RJ,
jiski aankhon me hamesha thoda humor aur thoda compassion hota hai.
Sameer:
Relax Rahat… mic ko dost samjho, interview nahi.
Yahan koi judge nahi karega — bas bolo dil se.
Rahat: (smile karte hue, thoda shaky voice)
Dil se?
Mujhe lagta hai dil ke paas dictionary honi chahiye…
main confuse ho jati hoon kya bolu aur kya chhupa lu.
Sameer hansa — wo simple, genuine laughter jisme ek mentor ka warmth tha.
Sameer:
Bas wahi toh radio ka magic hai.
Jo cheez duniya se chhupani ho, uske bare me poem likh do,
aur jo dil me dabake rakhi ho — usse ek RJ ki line bana do.
Rahat use dekhti hai,
aur pehli baar Sameer ke shabdon me apni pehchaan dikhai deti hai.
FLASHBACK FADE OUT
---
BACK TO PRESENT
Rahat apne desk se Sameer ka ek purana coffee mug uthati hai —
us mug ke niche likha hai:
“Mic is my therapy.”
Wo mug ko halki muskaan ke sath dekhti hai,
aur phir whisper karti hai:
Rahat:
Tere jaane ke baad bhi mic mera dost bana raha, Sameer…
bas kabhi kabhi yaad aa jata hai tu bhi therapy tha.
Uske phone me notification aata hai —
“Show Recording Saved: Rahat – ‘Dard ke peeche ka smile’”
Rahat mug ko wapas table par rakhti hai,
studio ki lights off karti hai,
aur halki saans lekar kehti hai:
Rahat (softly):
Chalo Rahat, show khatam… par story abhi baaki hai.
Wo apna bag utha kar studio se nikalti hai.
Background me halki guitar tone bajti hai — wahi tune jo Sameer bajaya karta tha.
Scene: College Canteen – Afternoon
Canteen me hamesha ki tarah students ki bheed thi — laughter, coffee cups ki khanak, aur gossip ki halke halke echo.
Corner ki ek table par Anisha akeli baithi thi.
Samne ek notebook, ek half-eaten sandwich, aur uski nazrein — khidki ke bahar, park ki taraf.
Wahi park jaha wo subah bethi thi…
Wahi jaha usne us ladke ko dekha tha — Kabir.
Uski aankhon me aaj bhi wohi halki si talash thi… jaise wo khud bhi nahi jaanti kis chehre ko dhoond rahi hai.
Tabhi ek awaaz aayi — “Tu fir se akeli?”
Uski dost Mitali tray lekar saamne baith gayi.
Anisha ne muskurate hue kaha, “Nahi… bas soch rahi thi thoda.”
Mitali ne teasing tone me poocha, “Soch rahi thi ya kisi ke bare me soch rahi thi?”
Anisha ne aankhon se muskaan chhupate hue kaha, “Kya farq padta hai...”
Mitali ne hans kar kaha, “Farq padta hai jab tu khud bhi nahi jaanti kiske bare me likh rahi hai.”
Anisha ne apni notebook band kar di, “Bas likhne se halka lagta hai.”
Tabhi uske phone me vibration hui —
“Message from Arti Di – BEHEN_CODE group chat”
> “Vicky ke case me new info mili hai. Aaj raat 9 baje video call.”
Anisha ne phone ko dekha, halki si tension uske chehre par thi.
Mitali ne poocha, “Sab theek hai?”
Anisha ne muskaan di, “Haan, bas thoda important kaam hai.”
Wo apni notebook band karke nikalti hai,
Lekin camera focus karta hai us page ke corner par —
Jahan likha hota hai ek naam, thoda faint ink me:
“Kabir.”
Anisha us page ko jaldi se fold kar deti hai, jaise apne dil ka ek raaz chhupa rahi ho.
---
(Transition)
Background me soft music chalta hai —
Canteen ka shor dheere dheere fade hota hai,
aur screen black hone se pehle ek line likhi aati hai:
> “Kabhi kabhi kisi ajnabi ka naam bhi dil me utar jaata hai, bina bulaye.”
Scene: Bank – Late Morning
Sunlight bank ke glass doors se andar gir rahi thi.
Counters pe customers ka aana–jaana tha, keyboards ki tapping aur printers ke paper roll ki khatak…
Anushka apni seat par baithi thi — crisp white shirt, neatly tied bun — lekin uska dhyaan files me kam, apne system ke monitor par zyada tha.
Screen par ek new mail notification blink kar raha tha:
Subject: “Still curious, Miss Sharma?”
Sender: [email protected]
Uske haath thode the — hesitate karte hue cursor click karta hai.
Mail open hota hai —
Sirf ek line likhi thi:
> “Sometimes the past doesn’t stay buried — especially when you dig too deep.”
Anushka ka dil ek pal ke liye ruk gaya.
Usne screen ke ird–gird dekha… sab kuch normal tha.
Colleagues apne kaam me busy.
Bas ek aadmi — Sumit, uska junior — side se uski table ki taraf dekh raha tha.
Anushka ne casual smile di, taaki apne expressions chhupa sake.
“Everything okay, ma’am?” Sumit ne poocha.
Anushka ne turant screen minimize kar diya, “Haan, bas ek audit mail tha.”
Sumit ne nod kiya aur chala gaya.
Anushka ne ek gehri saans li…
Apne system se log out karke washroom ki taraf gayi.
Mirror ke saamne ruk kar apne reflection ko dekhti hai.
Aankhon me ek halki si ghabrahat, par saath hi wo confidence jisse wo roz mask ki tarah pehenti hai.
“Tum koi bhi game khel rahe ho,” — usne dheere se apne reflection se kaha — “Main haarne wali nahi ho.”
She splashes cold water on her face,
aur background me ek subtle sound cue — jaise koi type kar raha ho…
Cut to —
Bank ke server room ka corner,
Ek screen me open ek admin panel… aur wahan likha hota hai —
‘User: jeevan**citybank.in – Active session.’
(But sirf audience ke liye — Anushka ke liye nahi.)
Camera dheere dheere zoom out karta hai,
Anushka phir se apni desk par aati hai,
Mail delete karti hai,
Aur apni diary me likhti hai —
> “Day 2 – Something’s off. But I’ll find out.”
Scene: Ishani’s Restaurant – Late Evening
Restaurant ka ambience halka shaant hai.
Tables aadhe khaali, lights thodi dim ho chuki hain.
Ishani counter ke paas khadi hai, apne apron ka knot kholte hue — din bhar ki thakan uske chehre par dikh rahi hai.
Humera ab bhi usi corner table par baithi hai, coffee cup half-finished.
Dono ke beech ek uneasy silence hai — jaise case ki tension ab unke dimaag me ghul chuki ho.
Ishani (aate hue) – “Tu coffee khatam karegi ya main tere liye fridge me rakh du kal ke liye?”
(Halka sa teasing tone.)
Humera (thoda smile karte hue) – “Tumhe har baat me mazaak mil jata hai na?”
Ishani – “Haan… warna zindagi ka taste bland ho jata.”
Dono halki si hansi share karti hain.
Phir ek pal ka pause… Ishani serious ho jati hai.
Counter se lagkar khadi hoti hai, aur dheere se kehti hai —
“Par tujhe sach bataun, Humera… aaj kal mazaak bhi karu to guilt lagta hai. Jab tak wo case khatam nahi hota na, sab incomplete lagta hai.”
Humera (slowly) – “Mujhe lagta hai dadi ko insaaf milega. Par waqt lag raha hai… aur log keh rahe hain ki Vicky ke lawyer strong hain.”
Ishani – “Strong lawyer humare paas bhi hai. Aur sabse strong cheez kya hai pata hai?”
Humera (confused) – “Kya?”
Ishani – “Hum. Behen_Code. Jab hum kisi ke saath khade ho jaate hain… game change ho jata hai.”
Ek confident smile Ishani ke chehre par — wo cup uthati hai aur Humera ke samne rakh deti hai,
“Finish it. Kal se naya plan banana hai.”
Background me Ishani ka crush — wo curly-haired guitar wala ladka — restaurant ke bahar se guzarta hai, glass ke through ek pal ke liye Ishani ki taraf dekhta hai.
Wo bhi notice karti hai… bas ek pal ke liye nazrein milti hain.
Ishani ke chehre pe ek halke se blush ke saath confident smile —
Jaise zindagi ke stress ke beech ek chhoti si roshni jhalak gayi ho.
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