Adultery I Lost Mom to the Boy Next Door

[Joker44]

Subah ke che bajne mein abhi das minute baaki the jab guest room ke bhaari lakdi ke darwaze par do halki, par authoritative dastakein hui.

Vaishali ne jhatke se karwat li. Uski neend waisi hi adhoori aur thaki hui thi jaise kisi kaidi ki subah hoti hai. Usne bistar se uth kar darwaza khola toh frame ke beech do professional beauticians khadi thi—unke kandhon par cosmetic vanity cases the—aur unke theek peeche Vikram ki maa khadi thi. Guest room ki centralized AC ki thandi hawa corridor ki garam hawa se takrayi. Vikram ki maa ke chehre par wahi sadi hui, meethi aur be-reham parivarik muskaan thi.
“Lambi subah hai aaj, Meera,” unhone andar aate hue kaha, unki nazar Vaishali ke nange gale aur bistar ki silwaton par ek second ke liye ruki. “Pehle body aur face ki deep cleaning aur bleach, phir makeup, phir haldi. Kapde aur baaki rasmein baad mein.”
Vaishali ne chupchap darwaza chhod diya. Usne mudte waqt pillow ke kone ko dekha—uske neeche Arjun ki wahi college wali purani photo abhi bhi safe thi. Uske haath mein mobile nahi tha; communication ka har zariya pichli shaam hi chheena ja chuka tha. Khidki ki lohe ki jaali ke paar lawn mein parked Mercedes ki safed roof par subah ki kachi dhoop phail rahi thi. Usne apne seene ke andar ek hi line ko kisi gehre mantr ki tarah dohraya: Barahwan din kal hai. Kal subah Arjun Mausi ko lekar aayega. Sirf aaj ka din.
Beautician ne aate hi bag khola. Pehle ek bada white towel Vaishali ke kandhon par daala gaya. Ek ladki ne uske lambe, jet-black wavy baalon ko crown par utha kar ek bade clip se baandh diya.
Baal upar hotey hi Vaishali ka poora gala, uski peeth ka upper curve aur kandhe bilkul nange ho gaye. Gale mein wahi sadharan, patli gold chain thi jisme koi locket nahi tha. Left collarbone ka woh gehra kaala til peeli bulb-light mein bilkul akele ubhar aaya.
“Blouse ke straps thode neeche kijiye, aunty—sorry, Meera ji,” chhoti beautician ne kaha. “Neckline aur collarbone tak clear coverage chahiye. Haldi ke baad tan aur dead skin camera mein saaf dikhti hai.”
Vaishali ne ek second ke liye jhijhakte hue apne dono haath uthaye. Usne apne purane cotton blouse ke sleeveless straps ko kandhon se thoda neeche khiskaye. Uske aage jhukte hi uske dono heavy, rasile breasts ka upper slope aur unki gehri cleavage khul kar samne aa gayi. Usne darr kar towel ko apne seene par kheenchna chaha, par doosri beautician ne towel ko pakad kar thoda neeche press kar diya.
“Sharmayein mat, ab toh shaadi hai aapki. Neck aur upper bust ka glow sabse zaroori hota hai, blouse wahan se kaafi deep cut hai.”
Bleach cream ka dabba khula. Uski teekhi, chemical ammonia wali smell se Vaishali ki naak mein jalan hui. Spatula se thandi, jhaagdaar cream uski wheatish skin par thopna shuru kiya gaya—pehle gaalon par, phir upper lip aur forehead par, aur phir lambe strokes ke saath uski gori gardan, collarbone aur us nange til ke upar. Cream jaise hi uske seene ke ubhaar tak gayi, uski thandak ke peeche ek teekhi jalan chhidak gayi.
Ghar ki aam dhoop aur rasoi ke dhuyein se bana hua uska natural, gehra wheatish rang in logon ke liye koi sundarta nahi tha; unke liye woh ek daag tha jise camera ke liye mitana zaroori tha. Cream lagate waqt beautician ke haath Vaishali ke bhare hue stanon ke kinaron ko touch kar rahe the, unke weight aur bounce ko mehsus karte hue.
“Skin mature hai, par firmness bohot achhi hai,” ek ne doosri se dheere se kaha. “Cream ka double activator lagega, tabhi 35-38 wala tone aayega.”
Jalan badhti gayi. Vaishali ki badi, kaali aankhon ke kinaron se paani nikal kar uske gaalon par pighli cream mein mil gaya. Unhone table-fan uske chehre ki taraf ghuma diya. Das minute. Pandra minute.
Jab geele sponge se pehli layer saaf ki gayi aur paani se munh dhulwaya gaya, toh sheeshe ke samne aate hi Vaishali ki saans atak gayi.
Uska asli, gharwali wheatish rang neeche dab chuka tha. Uski skin par ek ajeeb, gori aur galat-si paleness thop di gayi thi—jaise kisi 28 saal ki ladki ka rang kisi 42 saal ki bhari-poori aurat ke haddiyon aur maans par chipka diya gaya ho. Lekin us rang ke bawajood, uske honth wahi full aur bhare hue the. Aankhen wahi gehri aur thaki hui thi. Collarbone ka til us naye gore chamde par aur zyada kaala, aur zyada nanga chamak raha tha.
Usne sheeshe mein apni aankhon mein dekhte hue man hi man kaha: Yeh mera rang nahi hai. Yeh Meera ka rang hai. Kal subah yeh sab dho dungi.
Vikram ki maa ne peeche khade hokar critical nazar se uske chehre ko dekha. “Uth gaya rang. Vikram ko mature aurat chahiye, par thaki hui aur be-rang nahi. Ab jaldi se base lagao, niche pandit ji aane wale hain.”





Makeup ka base bhaari tha. Heavy foundation, primer, aur contouring. Concealer ko collarbone ke til ke chaaron taraf lagaya gaya, par us til ko chhupaya nahi gaya—beautician ne kaha, “Yeh til aapki USP hai, Vikram sir ne specifically notice kiya hoga.” Badi aankhon mein kohl ka gehra kajal, eyelids par halka golden shimmer, aur honthon par ek soft rose-red shade jo kisi ghar ki maa ka nahi, balki ek nayi-nayi sajti hui sharmili dulhan ka lagta tha.

Uske baalon ka clip khol diya gaya. Thoda sa shine-serum laga kar un lambi, jet-black wavy zulfon ko uski gori, bleach ki hui peeth par khula chhod diya gaya. Kaan ke paas do-teen safed baal the jinhe unhone chhupane ke bajaye side mein tuck kar diya—“Natural maturity achhi lagti hai, artificial nahi.”
Kapda pehli baar haldi wala samne aaya: ek peele aur halke hare rang ki cotton-silk saree, aur uske saath match karta hua sleeveless blouse jiska gala kaafi khula tha taaki rasm ke dauran haldi aasaani se lag sake.
Vaishali ne bathroom ke andar jaakar woh kapda pehna.
Naya blouse uske bhari, rasile breasts par itna tight baitha ki unka aadha ubhaar aur beech ki lambi cleavage bilkul nangi reh gayi. Saree ki peti uski choudi kamar aur soft pet ke curve par aakar kas gayi. Wide hips ke charon taraf peele kapde ki silwatein uske sharir ke har ek jism-faroshi curve ko highlight kar rahi thi.
Jab woh bahar aayi, toh sheeshe ke samne khadi aurat Dadar ke us 2BHK flat ki Vaishali bilkul nahi lag rahi thi. Woh 100% woh 'Meera' lag rahi thi jis par kisi bhi ameer mard ki rukaawat lazmi thi. 42 saal ki umar ka sach makeup, bleach aur is bare-cut blouse ke neeche poori tarah dafan ho chuka tha.
“Mandap neeche garden side ready hai,” beautician ne uske pallu ko kandhe par ek pin se set karte hue kaha, jisse uski gori armpit aur chhati ka side view aur zyada expose ho gaya. “Camera wale bhi aa gaye hain.”
Vaishali ne apne kaanpte hue haathon se pallu ko aage kheencha. Pairon mein koi payal nahi thi, bas simple flat slippers. Haath abhi khali the kyunki mehendi shaam ko honi thi. Woh guest room ke darwaze se bahar nikli.
Corridor bohot lamba lag raha tha. Har ek kadam par uske heavy bust ka wazan uski tezi se chalti saanson ke saath upar-neeche hil raha tha. Paas wale kamre se relatives ki aawazein aayi—“Meera tayyar ho gayi kya?”
Ek jawan cousin ladki ne aakar uska haath thama aur dabi hui hasi ke saath boli, “Bhabhi, sach mein kitni khubsoorat lag rahi hain aap! Itni shy look... Vikram bhaiyya toh dekhte hi flat ho jayenge.”
Khubsoorat. Shy. Nayi bahu.
Yeh shabd us 42 saal ki maa ke seene ke andar aari ki tarah chal rahe the. Par usne bas apni palkein neeche jhukaye rakhi.
Corridor se stairs. Stairs se neeche ka main hall jahan dhoop aur agarbatti ki mehak thi. Aur phir peeche ka open private lawn.
Lawn ke beech mein kile ke patte, gende ke taaza peele phool, aur beech mein ek choti si shisham ki lakdi ki chowki rakhi thi. Paas mein haldi aur chandan ke kaanse ke do bade bowl the. Do professional photographers bade lenses ke saath angle set kar rahe the. Yeh koi bada public mandap nahi tha; yeh unka tight, rich family circle tha.
Vaishali ki aankhein poore lawn mein ghoom gayi. Wahan Arjun nahi tha. Ramesh nahi tha. Uska apna khoon wahan koi nahi tha. Swap kal subah hona tha, par aaj yeh poora chakravyuh uske akele ke ird-gird ghoom raha tha.
Vikram lawn ke ek kone mein khada tha. Safed chikan ka kurta, chhati ke buttons khule hue, aur wrist par wahi gold watch.
Jaise hi Vaishali ne lawn mein kadam rakha, Vikram ki nazar seedhi uske khule kaale baalon par, uske bleach kiye hue safed nange gale par, aur us peele sleeveless blouse mein qaid bhaari stanon par jaakar jam gayi. Beautician ke banaye us jawan, fresh aur aadhi nangi dulhan wale chehre ne Vikram ki mardana aag ko ek second mein bhadkayi. Uski aankhon mein kal shaam wali wahi bhookh thi, par aaj usme poore parivar ke samne ka haq shamil tha.
Vaishali ne foran apni nazar zameen par daal di aur pallu ko seene par kheencha.
Vikram ki maa ne aage badhkar Vaishali ka kandha pakda aur chowki ki taraf badhaya.
“Chalo Meera, chowki pe baitho. Pehle hum ladies pair aur haath pe lagayenge. Vikram aakhri mein aakar tilak aur rasm poori karega.”
Chowki ke ird-gird gende ke phool bikhre the. Vaishali ne apni saree ko samet-te hue pehla kadam aage badhaya.
Click.
Photographer ke camera ki white flash uske chehre par padi.
Frame ke andar woh naya, galat-pale chehra tha, bhare hue rasile honth the, khule lambe baal the, peele blouse se ubharti hui bhaari chhati thi, collarbone ka woh kaala til tha, aur darr se kaanpti hui jhuki aankhein thi.
Usne chowki par baithne ke liye apne dono ghutne neeche jhukaye.
Haldi ka yeh ganda aur nanga mandap ab poori tarah shuru ho chuka tha.
Cupboard ke andar kal ka maroon joda abhi bhi band tha.
Neeche peele phool the, upar uski ruki hui saansein thi, aur theek samne woh 24 saal ka ladka khada tha jo uske jism ke har ek hisse ko apni aankhon se pehle hi nanga kar chuka tha.




Vaishali chowki par baithi toh peela gende ka phool uske cotton-silk pallu ke sarakte hi neeche dab kar kuchal gaya.

Lawn ke beech auraton ka ek tight, damghotu circle ban gaya. Vikram ki maa, chashme wali bua, do jawan chanchal cousins, aur ek door ki auntie jiske haath mein kaanse ka bhaari bowl tha—peeli haldi, chandan aur sarson ke kachhe tel ki teekhi, mehakti hui paste se bhara hua. Professional camera wala do kadam peeche angle bana raha tha, lens ki gehri kaali aankh seedhi chowki par tiki thi.
Vikram circle ke bahar nahi tha. Woh circle ke theek us opening par khada tha jahan se chowki par baithi dulhan ka khula gala, deep-cut sleeveless blouse ka gher, aur jhuka hua chehra seedhi line mein nazar aaye. Uski nazar kisi dori ki tarah Vaishali ke badan se bandhi hui thi.
Pehle pairon ki baari aayi.
Auntie aage jhuki, thandi-garam peeli paste uske nange gore pairo par lagayi—ungliyon ke poron se shuru hokar, pindi aur ghutne ke theek neeche tak. Paste lagte hi haldi ki kachi tapish Vaishali ki chamdi par phailne lagi. Vaishali ne ghabra kar pallu ko dono ghutno par khencha. Jaise hi uske haath aage jhuke, sleeveless yellow blouse uski chaudi chhati aur bhaari stanon ke wazan se bilkul tight ho gaya. Deep neckline ke kinare dono heavy breasts aage ko dhas gaye, unki madmast cleavage bilkul nangi hokar dhoop mein chamakne lagi.
Beautician ka banaya hua gora, bleached chehra sharm aur ghutan se neeche jhuka hua tha. Lambi jet-black waves aage phisal aayi aur uske bhare hue seene ke dono ubhaaron par aakar bikhar gayi.
Cousin ne aage badh kar Vaishali ke baal dono haathon se uthaye aur kaan ke peeche kiye. Uski gori gardan aur collarbone ka woh kaala til bina kisi parde ke poori dhoop mein nanga ho gaya.
"Itna sharmao mat, Meera bhabhi," cousin ne dheere se chhedte hue kaha. "Haldi mein mukh aur gala poora khilna chahiye, tabhi toh Vikram bhaiyya ki nazar thehrengi."
Phir haathon ki baari aayi.
Gori kalaiyan, naram hathiliyan, aur kohni tak dono baazu. Auraton ne ek-ek haath utha kar haldi malna shuru kiya jaise kisi naye khilone ko parakh rahi hon.
"Skin kitni soft hai."
"Haath dekh kar koi 38 nahi keh sakta, bilkul makhan jaisa badan hai."
Har ek taareef us 42 saal ki maa ke jism par kisi kaante ki tarah chubh rahi thi. Yeh woh roop tha jo kal subah dhul kar wapas 'Maa' banna tha—par in auraton ke haath use har second ek jawan, pyasi dulhan ke saanche mein dhaal rahe the.
Chehre ke liye Vikram ki maa khud aage badhi. Kaanste ke katoray se do ungliyan bhari, aur geeli haldi Vaishali ke bhare hue, rasile nichle honth ke kinare, gaalon par, aur gardan ke slope par pheri. Collarbone ke til ke theek oopar unki ungli thami—til ko saaf chhod diya.
"Ise mat dhakna, yeh Vikram ki pasand hai."
Click. Flash.
Camera ki teez white light ne Vaishali ki aankhon ko chaundhiya diya. Usne halke se hoth kheenche, wahi jhoothi aur thaki hui muskaan jo chaha-pohe wale din use sikhayi gayi thi. Seene ke andar usne ghadi ke kaante gine: Kal subah Arjun aayega... Priya ko maroon saree mein layega... main yahan se azaad hungi.
Mummy ne peechhe mudkar aawaz lagayi, "Vikram. Ab tu aage aa."
Auraton ka circle ek taraf se khul gaya.
Vikram safed chikan ke kurte mein chalkar aage aaya. Kurte ke khule collar se uski gym wali chhati aur mardana garmahat saaf jhalak rahi thi. Haath dho kar saaf kiye hue the, katora uske paas nahi tha—sirf uski do choudi ungliyon par peeli paste lagi thi. Riwaaj ke hisaab se maathe par ek teeka aur gaal par halka sa chhuwana kaafi tha.
Usne aage jhuk kar Vaishali ke maathe par peela tilak lagaya. Phir gaalon par ungli pheri.
Par utna karke woh peeche nahi hata. Uski bhookhi aankhon ne dhoop aur bheed ke beech hi niyat badal di.
Uska daayan haath dheere se neeche aaya, jaise woh saree ka pallu theek karne ka dikhawa kar raha ho. Pallu theek nahi hua—balki uska chauda, garam panja seedha Vaishali ki nangi kamar pe ja baitha. Yellow saree ki peti ke theek oopar, jahan uski soft, fleshy kamar ka curved gher shuru hota hai. Vikram ka angutha gehri taqat ke saath Vaishali ke soft pet ke kinare dhas gaya, blouse ke border aur saree ke beech ke nange maans ko apni mutthi mein dabate hue.
Ek second. Do second.
Camera ke liye yeh bas ek candid romantic pose lag sakta tha, par yeh touch kisi pose se kahin zyada gehra, ganda aur haq jatane wala tha.
Vaishali ki chhati par saans pathar ban kar jam gayi. Uske blouse ke andar qaid heavy breasts Vikram ke itne paas aane se darr ke maare phool gaye. Usne apne honth bilkul dheele kiye bina, daant peeste hue dheemi aawaz mein kaha:
"Haath hatao apna... Sab dekh rahe hain."



Vikram ne haath nahi hataya. Balki uski ungliyon ne us narm kamar ke maans ko halka sa aur squeeze kiya. Woh aage jhuka, itna kareeb ki uski garam, mardana saansein Vaishali ke kaan ke parde aur geeli gardan par aag laga rahi thi. Camera ka mic is aawaz ko nahi pakad sakta tha:

"Kal raat passage mein nikal gayi thi... Aaj din bhar yeh bheed hai. Shaam ko apne kamre mein akele milna. Rukna mat."
Uske baad usne ekdum se apna haath kamar se hataya aur family ke samne ek sanskari muskaan ke saath Vaishali ke baalon par haath phera, jaise koi aashirwad de raha ho.
Relatives ne taaliyan nahi bajayi, par auraton ke beech ek dheemi, rasili hasi phail gayi.
"Dekho toh, abhi se kitna haq jatane laga hai!"
"Jodi bohot khoob jachegi."
Uncle verandah ke frame par khade the, unhone ek sakt, tasalli-bakhsh nod diya.
Vaishali ne kaanpte hue haathon se pallu kheencha aur apni kamar ko chhipaya jahan abhi bhi Vikram ke chaude panje ki garmahat jal rahi thi. Haldi uske gaalon par sookh kar khinch rahi thi. Blouse ke andar uska dil itni zor se dhadak raha tha jaise haddiyan tod kar bahar aa jaayega. Yeh touch shadi se pehle ka daava tha—ek aisi mardana pakad jo bata rahi thi ki woh use chhodne ke mood mein bilkul nahi tha.
Cousin ne aage badhkar paani ka glass pakdaya. "Itna sharmaogi bhabhi toh pehli raat kaise sambhalogi?"
Vaishali ne paani piya. Glass ke kinare se uski aankhein lawn ke iron gate ki taraf gayi.
Wahan koi Arjun nahi tha. Koi Ramesh nahi tha. Ghadi mein subah ke das baj chuke the. Arjun ne kaha tha woh roz aayega, nazar rakhega. Par driveway soona tha. Usne khud ko jhoothi tasalli di: Kal subah switch hai, shayad Priya ko sambhalne mein laga ho. Kal subah aa jaayega.
Camera band hua. Haldi ke katoray uthaye gaye. Gende ke peele phool zameen par kuckalke bikhre reh gaye.

Garden se andar le jaate waqt Vikram ki maa ne Vaishali ke nange kandhe par haath rakha—chhuwan narm thi, par pakad zanjeer jaisi.

"Ab seedhe kamre mein chalo, Meera. Shaam ko mehendi hai. Phone mere bag mein hi safe rahega. Muhurat ki list check karni hai, pandit ke calls aa rahe hain. Aur dulhan ka shadi se pehle phone pe baat karna hamare yahan shubh nahi maana jaata."
Vaishali corridor ke mod par thithak kar ruk gayi. Usne himmat baandh kar saaf lafzon mein kaha:
"Mera bhatija Arjun aane wala tha... Uska call aaya hoga. Mujhe bas do minute us se baat karni hai."
Mummy ne apna mehanga leather purse thoda aur tight kiya, chehre par wahi polished, feeki muskaan barkarar rakhi.
"Koi zaroori baat hogi toh Arjun mujhse baat kar lega. Tu aaram kar. Bleach aur haldi ke baad aisi thaki hui aankhon ke saath shaam ko camera ke aage baithogi toh achha nahi lagega."
Guest room ka darwaza khula. Centralized AC ki wahi sunsaan thandak. Khidki par lohe ki jaali.
Cousin ne darwaza baahar se kundi laga kar band nahi kiya, par jaate-jaate mummy ne corridor ki taraf aawaz dekar kaha, "Meera ko thodi der akela chhod do, koi andar mat aana. Aur Meera beta, bahar mat ghoomna, haldi ke baad dulhan ka akele nikalna mana hota hai."
Matlab saaf tha: Darwaze par tala nahi tha, par corridor pe pehra tha.
Attached bathroom ke sheeshe ke aage khadi hokar Vaishali ne apna chehra dekha. Haldi ki peeli part sookh chuki thi. Bleach ki galat-pale safedi ke neeche se uska asli gharelu wheatish rang abhi bhi jhaank raha tha. Yellow sleeveless blouse mein uske stan waisi hi bhari ghutan mein qaid the. Kamar ke us hisse par abhi bhi ek ajeeb sa mardana kheenchaav mehsus ho raha tha jahan Vikram ka angutha dhasa tha.
Usne ghabra kar vanity counter ke drawers khole. Koi pen nahi tha. Koi diary nahi thi.
Aakhirkar cosmetic pouch ke sabse neeche ek chhota hotel-branded stub pencil ka tukda mila, jo shayad purane kisi mehmaan ka chhoota hua tha. Usne tissue-box se ek safed tissue paper kheench kar nikala. Kaampte haathon se, sink ke marble slab par rakh kar usne tezi se do lines likhi:
Arjun. Yahan mera phone chheen liya hai. Kal subah bina late kiye time pe aana. Swap mat chhodna, Mausi ko le aana. Main yahin phasi hoon. — M
Usne 'Maa' nahi likha. Usne photo nahi likha. Usne sirf 'M' likha—taaki agar kisi ke haath lag bhi jaaye toh koi pehchan na sake.
Tissue ko chaar paraton mein fold kiya. Blouse ke andar chhati ke beech nahi chhupaya—kyunki is ghar mein uske blouse aur chhati par anjaani nigahein aur haath aasaani se pahunch rahe the. Usne bedroom mein aakar woh tissue paper bed ke pillow ke theek neeche, Arjun ki college wali photo ke barabar daba diya.
Darwaza achanak khula. Cousin andar aayi, haath mein paani ki bottle.
"Yeh lijiye paani. Aur haan, landline ka wire mummy ne nikaal kar rakhwa diya hai, line mein subah se disturbance thi. Waise bhi aapko kisi se baat karne ki zaroorat nahi honi chahiye."
Vaishali ne bottle li. Cousin palat kar chali gayi. Desk ke neeche telephone ka socket khali pada tha—wire pehle se gayab tha.
Usne pillow ke neeche se tissue nikaal kar socha ki kisi tarah chupchap kitchen ya driveway tak jaakar watchman ko de de. Par hall mein aawazein chal rahi thi—uncle ki bhaari kanooni bhasha, Vikram ki mardana hasi, aur auraton ki payal ki chhan-chhan.
Woh wapas bed par aakar baith gayi. Tissue paper ko wapas pillow ke neeche daba diya. Us room se nikalne ka koi safe rasta nahi tha.
Dopahar ka khana ek house-help tray mein lekar aayi. Vaishali ne sirf do chammach chawal nigle; gala sookha hua tha. Khidki ke paar lawn mein helpers safai kar rahe the, peele phoolon ko kudedaan mein phenka ja raha tha jaise uske astitva ko phenka gaya ho.
Shaam ko mehendi wali do ladkiyan aayi. Hari, thandi mehendi ke cone, kapda, aur baithak.
Vaishali ne dono haath aage badha diye kyunki ab mana karne ka matlab seedha sawaal khada karna tha. Mehendi ke bareek daayre uski gori hatheliyon par banne lage. Jab ladki ne poocha, "Dulhe ka naam kahan likhna hai bhabhi?", toh Vaishali ne bina soche kaha, "Sirf phool bana do. Naam kal shaam ko mandap mein."
Ladki hans padi, "Chaliye, kal shaam ko shadi ke waqt Vikram sir khud dhoondenge."
Kal shaam.
Yahi woh lafz tha jo har koi bol raha tha. Aur yahi woh aakhri tinka tha jise pakad kar Vaishali saans le rahi thi. Kal shaam mandap sajega, par us mandap mein woh nahi, Priya baithegi.
Raat ke aath baje mehendi sookhne ke baad Vikram ki maa aayi aur room ki main light off karke halki night-lamp on kar di.
"So jao Meera. Kal bohot lambi shaam hone wali hai. Pandit ji ne kaha hai muhurat shaam ko late night ka hai, isliye din bhar thoda rest mil jaayega."
Late shaam.
Usne unhi shabdon ko apne seene mein dhaal kar aankhen moond li. Register, maroon saree, switch, Arjun ki gaadi—sab us kal ki late shaam ke parde ke peeche the.
Corridor ke sannate mein se achanak bhaari kadmon ki aahat aayi aur guest room ke darwaze ke theek baahar aakar ruk gayi.
Vikram.
Vaishali bistar par jam gayi, saans gale mein atki rahi. Vikram ne handle nahi ghumaya. Shaam ka woh whisper aur lawn mein kamar ka woh ganda dabaav apna kaam kar chuka tha. Darwaze ke baahar do second tak uski bhari saansein sunayi di, aur phir woh dheere se apne kamre ki taraf mud gaya.
Vaishali ne andhere mein pillow ke neeche haath daala. Ek taraf Arjun ki bachpan ki photo thi, doosri taraf woh mod kar rakha hua tissue paper.
Kal subah Arjun aayega.
Kal shaam tak yeh azaab khatam ho jaayega.
Usne yeh sach isliye maan liya kyunki iske alawa doosra koi sach sochne ki taqat uske dimaag mein nahi bachi thi.
Bahar bungalow ka safed sangmarmar andhere mein thanda pad chuka tha.
Andar ek 42 saal ki maa soyi thi—jism par haldi ka peela rang, haathon par rachi mehendi, bina kisi phone ke, ek kaagaz ke tukde ko aakhri umeed maan kar.
Par kismat ka agla vaar us late shaam ka intezar nahi karne wala tha.
Kal shaam ka muhurat badalne wala tha, aur register isi raat ke parde ke peeche nikalne wala tha.