11-12-2025, 11:59 PM
Update 20
Scene: Morning – Arti’s Home
Kitchen me se tadka aur chai ki milti-julti khushboo aa rahi hoti hai.
Background me morning radio baj raha hota hai —
Rahat ka cheerful voice station par goonj raha hota hai:
“Good morning, doston! Zindagi chahe kitni bhi rush ho, apni smile ka traffic kabhi mat rokna!”
Arti apron pehne kitchen me busy hoti hai —
ek haath se parathe sek rahi hoti hai, dusre haath me chai ka cup.
Uske chehre par wo usual calm expression,
lekin aankhon me ek roz ke routine wali thakaan bhi hoti hai.
Tabhi Abhishek freshly ironed shirt me kitchen me aata hai,
tie ko set karta hua —
aur seedha Arti ke paas jaakar halki si muskurahat ke sath kehta hai:
Abhishek (softly):
“Arti… aaj raat ek office party hai, aur invitation couple-only ka hai…
toh madam, ready rehna.”
Arti ke haath se belan almost gir jaata hai —
ek pal ke liye wo shock aur khushi ke beech me atak jaati hai.
Arti (muskurate hue):
“Sach me? Matlab mujhe bhi le ja rahe ho?”
Abhishek (tease karte hue):
“Are le ja raha hoon, lekin warning hai…
party me sab meri wife ko dekh ke jealous ho jayenge.”
Arti ke gaal halki si laal ho jaate hain.
Wo apne apron ko utaar kar kehti hai —
“Tum bhi na, bas bakwaas hi karte rehte ho…”
Abhishek uske paas aata hai,
usse halki si waist se pakadta hai,
aur uske kaan ke paas jhuk kar kuch naughty sa whisper karta hai —
(Itna halki awaaz me ki audience ko sirf Arti ka reaction dikhe,
uski aankhen widened, phir ek sharmai si smile).
Arti (shy tone me):
“Ab jao bhi… koi dekh lega…”
Abhishek:
“Dekhne do… husband hoon tumhara.”
Wo uske gaal par ek quick kiss karta hai,
aur bag uthakar kehta hai —
“Raat ko ready rehna, warna party cancel.”
Arti uske peeche dekhte hue muskurati hai,
aur jaise hi darwaza band hota hai,
wo aankhon me thodi excitement ke sath khud se kehti hai —
“Party… matlab ek raat bina kitchen, bina ‘Saas’ ke…”
Background me soft music bajta hai.
Arti khidki ke paas jaakar cup of chai sip karti hai,
aur ek sukoon bhari saans leti hai —
as if aaj ka din kuch achha hone wala hai.
Cut to – Radio Station (Rahat’s montage scene begins...)
Scene: Morning – Radio Station (Rahat’s Montage)
Background me Rahat ke radio show ka on-air light chamak raha hota hai —
studio me hamesha ki tarah thoda chaos aur thodi masti chal rahi hoti hai.
Coffee mugs, sound scripts, aur RJ cabin ke glass ke bahar staff ke funny faces.
Rahat apni chair pe half-turned baithi hoti hai,
mic ke saamne, mood full-on quirky.
Rahat (on-air, energetic tone me):
“Arre bhai sunne walon, zindagi me teen cheezein kabhi underestimate mat karna —
traffic signal ka red light, office ki Monday meeting,
aur apni maa ka ‘bas ek kaam aur kar le beta’!”
(Studio ke bahar staff me se Rohan aur Priya hans padte hain.)
Rohan (glass ke uss paar se, teasing tone me):
“Ma’am, aapne apne ghar ka example de diya kya?”
Rahat (mic mute karte hue, seedha Rohan ki taraf dekh kar):
“Rohan, tu apni salary ka example mat bana le, samjha?”
(Priya zor se hasti hai. Rahat ek aankh se wink kar deti hai.)
Priya:
“Ma’am, aapne kal ki show intro line likhi kya?”
Rahat:
“Haan haan likh li, lekin tujhe sunane se pehle NDA sign karwaungi.”
Rohan (chhupke se):
“Dekha Priya, yeh RJ nahi RAW agent hai.”
Sab hansne lagte hain, aur Rahat bhi apni coffee ka sip leke kehti hai —
“Bas bhai, mazaak me bhi confidential rehna zaroori hai.”
On-air light phir se on hoti hai.
Rahat turant apne mic ke paas jhukti hai —
“Okay doston! Ab waqt hai aapke ‘Morning Mood Meter’ ka!
Batao kaunsi cheez aaj aapka mood off kar gayi —
Boss ka gussa, girlfriend ka attitude, ya chai me makhi?”
Ek listener ka funny call aata hai —
“Rahat ji, meri wife ne mujhe aaj neend me bhi ‘list banayi?’ poocha!”
Rahat ki hansi control nahi hoti —
“Sir, aapka case serious hai…
aapko turant ek ‘wife helpline’ se contact karna chahiye,
jo unfortunately iss studio me available nahi hai.”
Sab hansi me phat padte hain.
Rahat ka laughter room bhar deta hai —
ek wo laughter jo pure station ki energy reset kar deta hai.
Aur jaise hi show khatam hota hai,
wo apne headphone utaarti hai,
aur ek halki saans leke kehti hai —
“Bas, ab ek aur din cross ho gaya…
Radio ka show easy hai…
Life ka show thoda tough.”
Background me uski smile halki si melancholy me badal jaati hai,
aur camera uske chehre par zoom karta hai —
wo smile jo andar se thodi thaki hui hai,
lekin duniya ke liye ab bhi full volume par on-air hai ?️
Lights dim.
Mic band ho gaya hai, par studio me ab bhi Rahat ki awaaz ka echo gunj raha hai.
She removes her headphones…
ek halka sa silence — woh silence jisme bas apne thoughts ki awaaz hoti hai.
Rahat apni diary kholti hai… ek corner pe likha hai:
“Show idea – Dil ke RJ.”
Wo smile karti hai, aur uske aankhon ke samne ek yaad khul jaati hai —
FLASHBACK: 3 years ago – same radio station, evening time.
---
Flashback – Sameer aur Rahat: First Meeting
Background me purani warm light.
Sameer (early 30s), simple cotton shirt, headphones gale me latke hue,
aur uske samne ek nayi intern Rahat, diary clutch kiye hue nervous khadi hai.
Sameer (smiling):
“Tumhara naam?”
Rahat (thoda ghabrati hue):
“Rahat Khan… sir.”
Sameer (softly):
“Sir mat bolo. Yahan sab mic ke dost hain… aur main bhi.”
(Rahat awkwardly smile karti hai.)
Sameer:
“Show sunke aaye ho mere? ‘Dil Ke Frequency’? Kaise laga?”
Rahat (thoda honest tone me):
“Sir, starting thoda slow laga tha… lekin end me feel aa gayi.”
Sameer (fake hurt expression):
“Accha! Matlab RJ boring tha?”
Rahat (hans padti hai):
“Nahi! RJ honest tha… isliye interesting ban gaya.”
(Uski smile dekh ke Sameer bhi muskurata hai.)
Sameer:
“Bas yahi honesty chahiye radio me.
Script nahi, feel chahiye.
Aaj se tum mere show pe shadow banogi… sunogi, seekhogi.”
Rahat:
“Sir, matlab main on-air aungi?”
Sameer:
“Abhi nahi. Pehle suno kaise baat hoti hai hawa se.”
(Sameer ek mic ke paas jata hai, uski voice control karte hue kehta hai —)
“Rahat… mic pe sirf bolna nahi, mehsoos karna padta hai.
Jaise har listener tumse ek hi sawaal pooch raha ho —
‘Tum theek ho na?’”
(Background me soft instrumental music, Sameer ke words echo karte hain.)
Rahat usse dekhti rehti hai — wo calm, composed aur charming teacher jo har baat dil se bolta hai.
Aur pehli baar, Rahat ka face light ke reflection me glow karta hai —
jaise usne apna purpose dhoondh liya ho.
Rahat (slowly):
“Aapke show ka naam ‘Dil Ke Frequency’ sahi rakha hai…
kyunki aap waqai dil se bolte ho.”
Sameer (smiling, looking at her):
“Ab tumhara show bhi wahi karega.”
(Beat. Unke beech ek silence. Light bass dikhata hai — chemistry clear hai, subtle but warm.)
---
CUT BACK TO PRESENT
Rahat apni diary band karti hai.
Wo ek lamha stare karti hai mic ke taraf —
Sameer ka hi diya hua mic stand.
Rahat (softly, almost whisper):
“Tum sikhake chale gaye…
aur main aaj bhi wahi mic pakde huye baithi hoon.”
Ek halki si smile, thoda dard.
Wo apni aankh me aansu rok kar ek deep breath leti hai —
aur khud se kehti hai,
“Chalo Rahat… show khatam hua, zindagi nahi.”
Camera dheere-dheere uske chehre se door hota hai —
Rahat ka reflection mic ke glass me dikhta hai,
aur Sameer ki ek halki awaaz echo hoti hai —
> “Mic pe bolne se zyada… chup rehna mushkil hota hai.”
Scene – Anushka’s Bank (Afternoon)
Bank ka atmosphere shaant hai, AC ki halki si humming chal rahi hai. Counters par customers ka usual rush hai, par Anushka apne cabin me laptop screen ke samne ghoor rahi hoti hai.
Uske inbox me ek naya mail blink kar raha hota hai.
Subject line — “You don’t even know half of it, Anushka.”
Sender — unknown.
Anushka ke fingers thodī der hawa me ruk jaate hain, phir wo mail open karti hai.
Mail me likha hota hai:
> “Your father wasn’t betrayed by fate.
He was betrayed by someone sitting closer than you think.
Check the audit file — 17B.”
Anushka ka dil ek pal ke liye ruk sa jata hai.
Wo turant apne file cabinet me jaake audit file 17B nikalti hai.
Lekin tab uske cabin ka darwaza knock hota hai — Sumit.
Sumit (halki si muskaan ke sath):
> “Madam, lunch time miss karne ka plan hai kya? Ya aaj koi secret mission chal raha hai?”
Anushka ek forced smile deti hai, lekin uski aankhon me suspicion hai.
Usse lagta hai ki Sumit kuch chhupa raha hai — aur jab wo kuch paper sign karne ke liye deti hai, uska nazar padta hai ki Sumit ne uske desk ke file ko chhupke dekha.
Sumit casual tone me:
> “Waise ma’am, 17B audit file... usme koi issue tha kya? Jeevan sir abhi uske bare me pooch rahe the.”
Anushka turant alert ho jati hai.
> “Jeevan sir? Unhone poocha tha?”
Sumit (smiling awkwardly):
> “Haan… bas casual enquiry thi, kuch serious nahi.”
Anushka file ko band karti hai, uski aankhon me doubt aur ghera hota ja raha hai.
Camera uske chehre par zoom karta hai — ek mix of fear aur determination.
Background me slow piano tone bajta hai.
Uske screen par woh mail fir blink karta hai —
“Find the truth before they find you.”
Scene – Arti’s Bedroom (Evening)
Ghar me halki si shaam ki roshni ghus rahi hai. Dressing table ke saamne Arti khadi hai — ek se ek dress nikal kar bed par phek rahi hai.
Mirror ke samne apne bal kholti hai, ek blue saree lagati hai… phir turant hata deti hai.
> “Nahi nahi, yeh to mummy ji ke samne thodi zyada bold lag rahi hai…”
wo khud se bolti hai.
Phir ek pastel gown nikalti hai, usse apne body ke saath lagakar dekhte hue ek second ke liye smile karti hai…
Aur usi moment usse yaad aati hai Abhishek ki subah wali baat —
jab wo uske kaan me jhuk kar kuch naughty sa bol kar gaya tha.
Us pal ki yaad aate hi Arti ke gaal laal ho jaate hain, aankhon me ek halka sa sharmila sa glow aa jata hai.
Wo mirror me khud ko dekhti hai aur dheere se bolti hai —
> “Mr. Abhishek Sharma… aaj aapko surprise milne wala hai.”
Camera mirror ke reflection me uska mischievous smile capture karta hai.
Wo wardrobe se ek deep wine-color saree nikalti hai — thodi bold, thodi elegant.
Saree ko apne shoulders pe daal kar, wo imagine karti hai Abhishek ka reaction.
Background me soft romantic instrumental bajta hai.
Tabhi piche se saas ki awaaz aati hai —
> “Arti! Tum abhi tak tayyar nahi hui? Itna time laga diya ek party ke liye?”
Arti ghabra kar saree ko sambhalti hai, lekin aankhon me wo naughty sparkle ab bhi hai.
> “Bas mummy ji, do minute aur… Abhishek ke saath matching kar rahi hoon.”
Saas suspicious tone me:
> “Hmmm… matching ya kuch aur?”
Arti ke mooh se halki si hansi nikal padti hai —
wo dil me sochti hai,
> “Kash mummy ji jaanti ki aaj unke beta ko kaisi surprise milegi.”
Camera dheere-dheere zoom out karta hai — bed par bikhri dresses, mirror me blush karti Arti, aur ek chhupi hui excitement.
Shaam ka waqt ab romance ka promise ban gaya hai.
Scene – Evening, “Food Adda” Restaurant ke baahar
Kitchen ka shutter aadha band ho raha hai. Staff apna-apna kaam samet raha hai.
Ishani counter ke paas khadi hai — apron utarte hue, aankhon me soch ka ek ghera sa samundar.
Uske haath to mechanically chal rahe hain, par dimaag kahin aur hai.
Hearing me sirf 10 din bache hain, aur unke paas ab tak koi solid lead nahi.
Ek taraf Vicky ka case, doosri taraf uska khud ka dil, jo confuse hai —
wo crush jisse wo keh nahi paayi, aur wo guilt jo case ke silence se badh raha hai.
Uske mathe par shikan ki lakeerein aur gehri ho jaati hain.
Wo manager ke “Good night, Ishani!” bolne par thoda jhatke se present me laut aati hai.
> Ishani halki si muskurahat dekar kehti hai,
“Good night, bhaiya… kal milte hain.”
Locker se apna helmet nikalti hai, apron fold karke rakh deti hai,
aur ek pal ke liye door ke signboard par likha “FOOD ADDA” dekhti hai —
jise dekhte hi jaise uske dimaag me Humera ke words ghoom jaate hain:
“Proof chhupa hai, lekin milke rahega.”
Wo apni scooty ke paas jaati hai, ignition on karti hai,
aur helmet pehne hue apne reflection me dekhti hai — aankhon me thoda gussa, thoda determination.
> “Kuch na kuch to hai… Vicky itni asaani se nahi bach sakta,”
wo dheere se apne aap se kehti hai.
Scooty ka engine start hota hai — ek sharp sound ke saath.
Uske baal hawa me udte hain, aur camera peeche se follow karta hai jab Ishani shahar ke lights ke beech se nikalti hai,
ek akele mission pe, ek aur din ke liye… ek aur clue ke liye.
Scene: Morning – Arti’s Home
Kitchen me se tadka aur chai ki milti-julti khushboo aa rahi hoti hai.
Background me morning radio baj raha hota hai —
Rahat ka cheerful voice station par goonj raha hota hai:
“Good morning, doston! Zindagi chahe kitni bhi rush ho, apni smile ka traffic kabhi mat rokna!”
Arti apron pehne kitchen me busy hoti hai —
ek haath se parathe sek rahi hoti hai, dusre haath me chai ka cup.
Uske chehre par wo usual calm expression,
lekin aankhon me ek roz ke routine wali thakaan bhi hoti hai.
Tabhi Abhishek freshly ironed shirt me kitchen me aata hai,
tie ko set karta hua —
aur seedha Arti ke paas jaakar halki si muskurahat ke sath kehta hai:
Abhishek (softly):
“Arti… aaj raat ek office party hai, aur invitation couple-only ka hai…
toh madam, ready rehna.”
Arti ke haath se belan almost gir jaata hai —
ek pal ke liye wo shock aur khushi ke beech me atak jaati hai.
Arti (muskurate hue):
“Sach me? Matlab mujhe bhi le ja rahe ho?”
Abhishek (tease karte hue):
“Are le ja raha hoon, lekin warning hai…
party me sab meri wife ko dekh ke jealous ho jayenge.”
Arti ke gaal halki si laal ho jaate hain.
Wo apne apron ko utaar kar kehti hai —
“Tum bhi na, bas bakwaas hi karte rehte ho…”
Abhishek uske paas aata hai,
usse halki si waist se pakadta hai,
aur uske kaan ke paas jhuk kar kuch naughty sa whisper karta hai —
(Itna halki awaaz me ki audience ko sirf Arti ka reaction dikhe,
uski aankhen widened, phir ek sharmai si smile).
Arti (shy tone me):
“Ab jao bhi… koi dekh lega…”
Abhishek:
“Dekhne do… husband hoon tumhara.”
Wo uske gaal par ek quick kiss karta hai,
aur bag uthakar kehta hai —
“Raat ko ready rehna, warna party cancel.”
Arti uske peeche dekhte hue muskurati hai,
aur jaise hi darwaza band hota hai,
wo aankhon me thodi excitement ke sath khud se kehti hai —
“Party… matlab ek raat bina kitchen, bina ‘Saas’ ke…”
Background me soft music bajta hai.
Arti khidki ke paas jaakar cup of chai sip karti hai,
aur ek sukoon bhari saans leti hai —
as if aaj ka din kuch achha hone wala hai.
Cut to – Radio Station (Rahat’s montage scene begins...)
Scene: Morning – Radio Station (Rahat’s Montage)
Background me Rahat ke radio show ka on-air light chamak raha hota hai —
studio me hamesha ki tarah thoda chaos aur thodi masti chal rahi hoti hai.
Coffee mugs, sound scripts, aur RJ cabin ke glass ke bahar staff ke funny faces.
Rahat apni chair pe half-turned baithi hoti hai,
mic ke saamne, mood full-on quirky.
Rahat (on-air, energetic tone me):
“Arre bhai sunne walon, zindagi me teen cheezein kabhi underestimate mat karna —
traffic signal ka red light, office ki Monday meeting,
aur apni maa ka ‘bas ek kaam aur kar le beta’!”
(Studio ke bahar staff me se Rohan aur Priya hans padte hain.)
Rohan (glass ke uss paar se, teasing tone me):
“Ma’am, aapne apne ghar ka example de diya kya?”
Rahat (mic mute karte hue, seedha Rohan ki taraf dekh kar):
“Rohan, tu apni salary ka example mat bana le, samjha?”
(Priya zor se hasti hai. Rahat ek aankh se wink kar deti hai.)
Priya:
“Ma’am, aapne kal ki show intro line likhi kya?”
Rahat:
“Haan haan likh li, lekin tujhe sunane se pehle NDA sign karwaungi.”
Rohan (chhupke se):
“Dekha Priya, yeh RJ nahi RAW agent hai.”
Sab hansne lagte hain, aur Rahat bhi apni coffee ka sip leke kehti hai —
“Bas bhai, mazaak me bhi confidential rehna zaroori hai.”
On-air light phir se on hoti hai.
Rahat turant apne mic ke paas jhukti hai —
“Okay doston! Ab waqt hai aapke ‘Morning Mood Meter’ ka!
Batao kaunsi cheez aaj aapka mood off kar gayi —
Boss ka gussa, girlfriend ka attitude, ya chai me makhi?”
Ek listener ka funny call aata hai —
“Rahat ji, meri wife ne mujhe aaj neend me bhi ‘list banayi?’ poocha!”
Rahat ki hansi control nahi hoti —
“Sir, aapka case serious hai…
aapko turant ek ‘wife helpline’ se contact karna chahiye,
jo unfortunately iss studio me available nahi hai.”
Sab hansi me phat padte hain.
Rahat ka laughter room bhar deta hai —
ek wo laughter jo pure station ki energy reset kar deta hai.
Aur jaise hi show khatam hota hai,
wo apne headphone utaarti hai,
aur ek halki saans leke kehti hai —
“Bas, ab ek aur din cross ho gaya…
Radio ka show easy hai…
Life ka show thoda tough.”
Background me uski smile halki si melancholy me badal jaati hai,
aur camera uske chehre par zoom karta hai —
wo smile jo andar se thodi thaki hui hai,
lekin duniya ke liye ab bhi full volume par on-air hai ?️
Lights dim.
Mic band ho gaya hai, par studio me ab bhi Rahat ki awaaz ka echo gunj raha hai.
She removes her headphones…
ek halka sa silence — woh silence jisme bas apne thoughts ki awaaz hoti hai.
Rahat apni diary kholti hai… ek corner pe likha hai:
“Show idea – Dil ke RJ.”
Wo smile karti hai, aur uske aankhon ke samne ek yaad khul jaati hai —
FLASHBACK: 3 years ago – same radio station, evening time.
---
Flashback – Sameer aur Rahat: First Meeting
Background me purani warm light.
Sameer (early 30s), simple cotton shirt, headphones gale me latke hue,
aur uske samne ek nayi intern Rahat, diary clutch kiye hue nervous khadi hai.
Sameer (smiling):
“Tumhara naam?”
Rahat (thoda ghabrati hue):
“Rahat Khan… sir.”
Sameer (softly):
“Sir mat bolo. Yahan sab mic ke dost hain… aur main bhi.”
(Rahat awkwardly smile karti hai.)
Sameer:
“Show sunke aaye ho mere? ‘Dil Ke Frequency’? Kaise laga?”
Rahat (thoda honest tone me):
“Sir, starting thoda slow laga tha… lekin end me feel aa gayi.”
Sameer (fake hurt expression):
“Accha! Matlab RJ boring tha?”
Rahat (hans padti hai):
“Nahi! RJ honest tha… isliye interesting ban gaya.”
(Uski smile dekh ke Sameer bhi muskurata hai.)
Sameer:
“Bas yahi honesty chahiye radio me.
Script nahi, feel chahiye.
Aaj se tum mere show pe shadow banogi… sunogi, seekhogi.”
Rahat:
“Sir, matlab main on-air aungi?”
Sameer:
“Abhi nahi. Pehle suno kaise baat hoti hai hawa se.”
(Sameer ek mic ke paas jata hai, uski voice control karte hue kehta hai —)
“Rahat… mic pe sirf bolna nahi, mehsoos karna padta hai.
Jaise har listener tumse ek hi sawaal pooch raha ho —
‘Tum theek ho na?’”
(Background me soft instrumental music, Sameer ke words echo karte hain.)
Rahat usse dekhti rehti hai — wo calm, composed aur charming teacher jo har baat dil se bolta hai.
Aur pehli baar, Rahat ka face light ke reflection me glow karta hai —
jaise usne apna purpose dhoondh liya ho.
Rahat (slowly):
“Aapke show ka naam ‘Dil Ke Frequency’ sahi rakha hai…
kyunki aap waqai dil se bolte ho.”
Sameer (smiling, looking at her):
“Ab tumhara show bhi wahi karega.”
(Beat. Unke beech ek silence. Light bass dikhata hai — chemistry clear hai, subtle but warm.)
---
CUT BACK TO PRESENT
Rahat apni diary band karti hai.
Wo ek lamha stare karti hai mic ke taraf —
Sameer ka hi diya hua mic stand.
Rahat (softly, almost whisper):
“Tum sikhake chale gaye…
aur main aaj bhi wahi mic pakde huye baithi hoon.”
Ek halki si smile, thoda dard.
Wo apni aankh me aansu rok kar ek deep breath leti hai —
aur khud se kehti hai,
“Chalo Rahat… show khatam hua, zindagi nahi.”
Camera dheere-dheere uske chehre se door hota hai —
Rahat ka reflection mic ke glass me dikhta hai,
aur Sameer ki ek halki awaaz echo hoti hai —
> “Mic pe bolne se zyada… chup rehna mushkil hota hai.”
Scene – Anushka’s Bank (Afternoon)
Bank ka atmosphere shaant hai, AC ki halki si humming chal rahi hai. Counters par customers ka usual rush hai, par Anushka apne cabin me laptop screen ke samne ghoor rahi hoti hai.
Uske inbox me ek naya mail blink kar raha hota hai.
Subject line — “You don’t even know half of it, Anushka.”
Sender — unknown.
Anushka ke fingers thodī der hawa me ruk jaate hain, phir wo mail open karti hai.
Mail me likha hota hai:
> “Your father wasn’t betrayed by fate.
He was betrayed by someone sitting closer than you think.
Check the audit file — 17B.”
Anushka ka dil ek pal ke liye ruk sa jata hai.
Wo turant apne file cabinet me jaake audit file 17B nikalti hai.
Lekin tab uske cabin ka darwaza knock hota hai — Sumit.
Sumit (halki si muskaan ke sath):
> “Madam, lunch time miss karne ka plan hai kya? Ya aaj koi secret mission chal raha hai?”
Anushka ek forced smile deti hai, lekin uski aankhon me suspicion hai.
Usse lagta hai ki Sumit kuch chhupa raha hai — aur jab wo kuch paper sign karne ke liye deti hai, uska nazar padta hai ki Sumit ne uske desk ke file ko chhupke dekha.
Sumit casual tone me:
> “Waise ma’am, 17B audit file... usme koi issue tha kya? Jeevan sir abhi uske bare me pooch rahe the.”
Anushka turant alert ho jati hai.
> “Jeevan sir? Unhone poocha tha?”
Sumit (smiling awkwardly):
> “Haan… bas casual enquiry thi, kuch serious nahi.”
Anushka file ko band karti hai, uski aankhon me doubt aur ghera hota ja raha hai.
Camera uske chehre par zoom karta hai — ek mix of fear aur determination.
Background me slow piano tone bajta hai.
Uske screen par woh mail fir blink karta hai —
“Find the truth before they find you.”
Scene – Arti’s Bedroom (Evening)
Ghar me halki si shaam ki roshni ghus rahi hai. Dressing table ke saamne Arti khadi hai — ek se ek dress nikal kar bed par phek rahi hai.
Mirror ke samne apne bal kholti hai, ek blue saree lagati hai… phir turant hata deti hai.
> “Nahi nahi, yeh to mummy ji ke samne thodi zyada bold lag rahi hai…”
wo khud se bolti hai.
Phir ek pastel gown nikalti hai, usse apne body ke saath lagakar dekhte hue ek second ke liye smile karti hai…
Aur usi moment usse yaad aati hai Abhishek ki subah wali baat —
jab wo uske kaan me jhuk kar kuch naughty sa bol kar gaya tha.
Us pal ki yaad aate hi Arti ke gaal laal ho jaate hain, aankhon me ek halka sa sharmila sa glow aa jata hai.
Wo mirror me khud ko dekhti hai aur dheere se bolti hai —
> “Mr. Abhishek Sharma… aaj aapko surprise milne wala hai.”
Camera mirror ke reflection me uska mischievous smile capture karta hai.
Wo wardrobe se ek deep wine-color saree nikalti hai — thodi bold, thodi elegant.
Saree ko apne shoulders pe daal kar, wo imagine karti hai Abhishek ka reaction.
Background me soft romantic instrumental bajta hai.
Tabhi piche se saas ki awaaz aati hai —
> “Arti! Tum abhi tak tayyar nahi hui? Itna time laga diya ek party ke liye?”
Arti ghabra kar saree ko sambhalti hai, lekin aankhon me wo naughty sparkle ab bhi hai.
> “Bas mummy ji, do minute aur… Abhishek ke saath matching kar rahi hoon.”
Saas suspicious tone me:
> “Hmmm… matching ya kuch aur?”
Arti ke mooh se halki si hansi nikal padti hai —
wo dil me sochti hai,
> “Kash mummy ji jaanti ki aaj unke beta ko kaisi surprise milegi.”
Camera dheere-dheere zoom out karta hai — bed par bikhri dresses, mirror me blush karti Arti, aur ek chhupi hui excitement.
Shaam ka waqt ab romance ka promise ban gaya hai.
Scene – Evening, “Food Adda” Restaurant ke baahar
Kitchen ka shutter aadha band ho raha hai. Staff apna-apna kaam samet raha hai.
Ishani counter ke paas khadi hai — apron utarte hue, aankhon me soch ka ek ghera sa samundar.
Uske haath to mechanically chal rahe hain, par dimaag kahin aur hai.
Hearing me sirf 10 din bache hain, aur unke paas ab tak koi solid lead nahi.
Ek taraf Vicky ka case, doosri taraf uska khud ka dil, jo confuse hai —
wo crush jisse wo keh nahi paayi, aur wo guilt jo case ke silence se badh raha hai.
Uske mathe par shikan ki lakeerein aur gehri ho jaati hain.
Wo manager ke “Good night, Ishani!” bolne par thoda jhatke se present me laut aati hai.
> Ishani halki si muskurahat dekar kehti hai,
“Good night, bhaiya… kal milte hain.”
Locker se apna helmet nikalti hai, apron fold karke rakh deti hai,
aur ek pal ke liye door ke signboard par likha “FOOD ADDA” dekhti hai —
jise dekhte hi jaise uske dimaag me Humera ke words ghoom jaate hain:
“Proof chhupa hai, lekin milke rahega.”
Wo apni scooty ke paas jaati hai, ignition on karti hai,
aur helmet pehne hue apne reflection me dekhti hai — aankhon me thoda gussa, thoda determination.
> “Kuch na kuch to hai… Vicky itni asaani se nahi bach sakta,”
wo dheere se apne aap se kehti hai.
Scooty ka engine start hota hai — ek sharp sound ke saath.
Uske baal hawa me udte hain, aur camera peeche se follow karta hai jab Ishani shahar ke lights ke beech se nikalti hai,
ek akele mission pe, ek aur din ke liye… ek aur clue ke liye.
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