[Joker44]

CHAPTER : The Makeover begins

Agli subah Vaishali ne almari kholi toh uske purane blouse wahan nahi the.

Woh ek pal ke liye khadi rahi, haath darwaze par, geeli choti kandhe par chipki hui. Kal shaam woh floor se uthi thi, nahaayi thi, aur neeli saree ko dho kar bathroom ki rassi par chhod aayi thi. Raat ko Vikram ne use bed par liya tha, dheere, aur subah jab uski aankh khuli toh woh balcony par khada tha, phone par, kisi se baat karta hua. Usne socha tha ki aaj woh apna purana cotton ka blouse nikaalegi. Gale tak band. Safe. Jo uske boobs ko daba kar rakhta tha, jo kisi ko cleavage nahi dikhata tha.

Woh blouse nahi tha.

Na doosra. Na teesra. Teenon gayab the. Unki jagah ek naya packet pada tha, brown paper, uspar dukaan ka naam. Usne packet khola. Andar do blouse the. Ek neela, saree ke rang ka. Ek gehra maroon. Dono ka gala sweetheart cut tha, neeche se tight, upar se itna khula ki boobs ka ubhaar aur beech ki lakeer chhup hi nahi sakti thi. Saath mein ek chhoti si slip thi, patli, ghutnon se upar.

Vaishali ne packet band kar diya.

“Vikram.”

Woh balcony se andar aaya, phone abhi kaan par. Usne use dekha, ek second, phir kaha, “Haan bhai, main baad mein call karta hoon,” aur phone kaat diya.

“Mere blouse kahan hain?”

“Phenk diye.”

Usne yeh aise kaha jaise woh purani dabbi phenk raha ho. Vaishali ke haath packet par kas gaye. “Woh mere the. Main unmein ghar ka kaam karti hoon. Pados ke log aate hain. Arjun aata hai. Main aise—” usne packet ki taraf ishara kiya, “aise nahi nikal sakti.”

Vikram ne packet uske haath se liya. Blouse nikaala. Use uske seene ke saamne rakha, kapda uske nightie ke upar, jaise naap raha ho. “Isi mein nikalegi. Meri biwi hai tu. Main tujhe dhak ke nahi ghumne dunga. Tere boobs chhupane ke liye maine shaadi nahi ki.”

Vaishali ke kaan garam ho gaye. Usne aawaz neeche rakhi. “Tumhari mummy kal aayi thi. Unhone mujhe seedhi kaha. Agar main aise ghoomungi toh woh kya sochengi?”

“Woh sochengi mera beta khush hai.” Usne blouse uske haath mein wapas de diya. “Pehen. Abhi. Main dekhna chahta hoon.”

Woh bathroom le gayi. Darwaza band kiya. Nightie utaari. Aaine mein apne aap ko dekha. Kal ke nishan ab bhi the — boob par ek halka daag, kamar par ungliyon ki lakeer, jaangh par ek sookha hua nishaan. Usne maroon blouse pehna. Hook peeche the. Usne unhe band kiye, aur jaise hi kapda uske boobs par kasaa, use saaf pata chala ki yeh blouse use dhakne nahi aaya tha. Upar ki skin nangi thi. Beech ki lakeer gehra. Neeli saree usne usi par lapeti, petticoat kasaa, pallu daala. Pallu bhi poora nahi chhupa paaya.

Woh bahar aayi.

Vikram sofa par baitha tha. Usne use darwaze se lekar sofe tak dekha, aankh neeche nahi ki. “Ghum.”




Vaishali ek kadam ghumi. Pallu sarak gaya. Usne use pakda. Vikram ne sir hila diya. “Rehne de.”

“Main rehne nahi de sakti,” usne kaha. Uski saans thodi tez thi. “Aise main left wale darwaze par bhi nahi ja sakti. Ramesh— bhaiya— agar dekhenge—”

Naam atak gaya. Usne use pehli baar us ghar mein, us saree mein, bhaiya kaha tha. Zaban par shabd ajeeb laga, jaise kisi aur aurat ka. Vikram ne notice kiya nahi. Use toh woh bhaiya hi tha. Register par. Uski biwi ki badi umar ka bhai.

“Bhaiya dekhenge toh dekhenge,” usne kaha. “Tu meri biwi hai, unki behan nahi jo chhup ke ghoome. Aur aaj unhe aana bhi hai. Paperwork. Uncle ne kaha tha society ka form. Naam likhna hai.”

Vaishali ka pet baith gaya. “Kaun sa naam?”

“Jo register par hai. Meera.”

Dopahar ko Ramesh aaya. Arjun nahi. College ka bahana tha, ya shayad woh aana nahi chahta tha. Ramesh ke haath mein ek file thi, kandhe andar ko dhase hue, chehra wohi thaka hua. Vikram ne use andar bulaya, chai mangaayi, aur table par form rakh diya. Society transfer. Flat ka naam. Husband: Vikram Deshmukh. Wife: Meera Deshmukh.

“Bhabhi ko sign karna hai,” Vikram ne kaha. “Main toh kar chuka.”

Ramesh ne Vaishali ko dekha. Neeli saree. Khula blouse. Sindoor. Mangalsutra. Uski nazar ek second ke liye uske gale par ruki, jahan ab uska purana halka locket nahi tha, aur phir neeche gir gayi. Usne kuch nahi kaha. File ko table ke kon par rakha, jaise woh use chhoo ke bhi nahi rakhna chahta.

Vaishali ne pen uthaya. Haath kaanp raha tha. Form par pehle se Meera Deshmukh likha tha, pencil se, halka. Usne usi par pen chalaya. Pehli akshar bigad gayi. Doosri baar usne Meera likha, phir Deshmukh, aur neeche sign. Jab woh pen rakhti hai, tab Vikram ne uska haath uthaya aur uski ungliyon par, Ramesh ke saamne, ek chhoti si kiss rakh di.

“Thank you, biwi.”

Ramesh ka gala hila. Usne chai ka cup uthaya aur use wapas rakh diya, bina piye. Vaishali ne use dekha. Bees saal tak yeh aadmi uska pati tha. Ab woh uske saamne baitha tha, file ke saath, aur usne apni biwi ko kisi aur ka naam likhte dekha tha. Uske munh se nikalna chahiye tha — mat likh, yeh galat hai, main tera bhai nahi hoon. Nahi nikla. Paisa account mein tha. Flat ka paper isi file mein tha.

“Bhaiya,” Vaishali ne kaha.

Shabd bahar aa gaya, patla, toot-ta hua. Ramesh ne upar dekha. Ek pal ke liye uski aankhon mein kuch toota. Phir usne sir hila diya, jaise usne sirf ek rishtedaar ko jawab diya ho.

“Haan.”

“Chai… thandi ho gayi. Main garam kar doon?”

“Nahi. Main chalta hoon.”

Woh utha. File chhod gayi. Darwaze par ruka, Vaishali ki taraf dekha, blouse ki taraf nahi, sirf chehre ki taraf, aur kaha, “Khyaal rakhna.” Phir nikal gaya.

Darwaza band hua.

Vaishali table ke paas khadi rahi. Form uske saamne tha, uske haath ka sign uspar, Meera Deshmukh. Uske gale mein mangalsutra. Uske jism par woh blouse jo uske purane kapdon ki jagah aa gaya tha. Usne apna pallu pakda, use upar kheenchha, boobs ko chhupane ki koshish ki. Kapda sarak gaya. Vikram ne peeche se aakar uske haath rok diye.

“Chhod,” usne kaha. “Yeh ab tera naam hai. Yeh ab tere kapde hain. Bhaiya bhi maan chuka. Tu kab maanegi?”

Vaishali ne aankhen band ki. Saans andar atki hui thi. Woh royi nahi. Rona bhi ab us naam ke saath nahi jaata tha jo usne abhi khud likha tha. Woh sirf khadi rahi, uske haathon mein, khule blouse mein, aur form ko dekhti rahi jab tak akshar dhundhle nahi ho gaye.



Vikram ne dopahar ko seedha kaha, “Chal, nikal.”
Vaishali kitchen mein thi, neeli saree pehni hui, wohi khula blouse jo ab uske paas do hi bache the. Usne gas band kiya. “Kahan?”
“Kapde lene. Tere liye. Raat ke.”
Uske haath sink ke kinare ruk gaye. “Mere paas kapde hain. Jo tumne kal diye, wohi pehni hoon. Aur lene ki zaroorat nahi.”
“Zaroorat mujhe hai.” Woh hall mein khada tha, watch bandhta hua, aawaz mein wohi aaraam. “Teri nightie purani hai. Main use dekh ke sota hoon. Aaj woh badlegi. Chal.”
Vaishali ne pallu theek kiya. Bahar jaane ka matlab tha society ka watchman, sadak, dukaan, log. Blouse ka gala gehra tha. Usne ek dupatta nikaala aur use seene par lapet liya, taaki kam se kam lift tak toh chhup jaaye. Vikram ne dupatta dekha, kuch nahi kaha, aur darwaza khol diya.
Lift kharab thi. Seedhiyon par utarte waqt landing ki peeli light mein left wala darwaza band tha. Arjun college mein tha. Ramesh shayad andar tha. Vaishali ne us darwaze ki taraf nahi dekha. Neeche watchman ne salute maara, “Namaskar sahab, bahu ji.” Vaishali ne sir jhukaya. Watchman ki nazar ek pal ke liye uske blouse par ruki, phir neeche ho gayi. Gaadi mein baithte waqt uske kaan garam the.
“Usne dekha,” usne kaha, jab gaadi gate se bahar nikli.
“Dekhne de. Tu meri biwi hai. Society ko pata hona chahiye.”
Dukaan Link Road par thi, ek aisi jagah jahan Vaishali pehle kabhi nahi gayi thi. Bahar se sirf ek chhota sa board tha. Andar air condition thandi thi, aur light dheemi, taaki kapda aur skin dono chamkein. Racks par nighties thi, slips, bra jo uske purane cotton wale bilkul nahi the. Ek ladki counter par thi, umar shayad bees ke aas-paas, usne Vikram ko dekha aur muskuraayi.
“Sir, madam ke liye?”
“Haan. Nightwear. Kuch jo ghar pe achha lage. Size bata degi.”
Vaishali counter se thodi door khadi rahi. Uski aankhen neeche thi. Ladki ne use upar se neeche tak dekha, seedha nahi, kaam waali nazar se, aur kaha, “Madam, 36-38 lagegi. Aap andar aa jaayiye, main set dikhati hoon.”
Trial room peeche tha, ek parde ka. Andar ek stool, ek aaina, ek hook. Ladki ne teen set latka diye. Ek kaala, patla, sirf ghutnon se upar. Ek laal, lace ka, jiske neeche bra aur panty alag the. Ek gehra neela, satin, bina sleeve ke, gale ka ghera itna ki boobs ka aadha hissa bahar rehta.
“Sir bahar hain,” ladki ne kaha. “Jo pasand aaye, woh dikha dena. Main bahar hoon.”
Parde ke bahar Vikram ek kursi par baith gaya. Vaishali ne andar se kaha, dheemi aawaz mein, “Main yeh nahi pehen sakti. Yeh… yeh ghar ke kapde nahi hain.”
“Pehen ke dikha,” usne kaha. “Warna main khud aa kar pehnata hoon.”
Ladki ne suna. Usne nazar ghuma li, jaise usne aisi baatein pehle bhi suni hon. Vaishali ne dupatta utaara. Blouse ke hook khole. Saree utaari, dhyan se, taaki bikhrey nahi. Aaine mein woh khadi thi, petticoat aur bra mein, 42 saal ki aurat jo aaine ko 38 ki lagti thi, aur uske saamne woh teen kapde jo uske pati ne — Ramesh ne — kabhi use kharid ke nahi diye the. Ramesh use ek saal mein ek cotton ki nightie le deta tha, bazaar se, bina poochhe.
Usne pehle neela satin wala uthaya. Usne use isliye uthaya kyunki woh teeno mein sabse zyada kapda tha. Phir bhi jab woh usmein ghusi, toh use pata chala ki zyada kapda sirf ek illusion tha. Satin uske boobs se chipak gaya. Nipples ka ubhaar saaf tha. Kamar par kapda kasaa, phir neeche khul gaya, jaanghon tak. Usne apne aap ko aaine mein dekha aur nazar hata li.
“Bahar aa,” Vikram ne kaha.
“Yahin se sun lo. Ho gaya.”
“Bahar aa, Meera.”
Usne pardа thoda sa khola. Itna ki sirf woh dikhe, dukaan ki ladki nahi. Vikram ne use dekha. Aankh neeche nahi ki. Uski saans ek pal ke liye rukhi, phir usne kaha, “Yeh lega. Doosra bhi pehen.”



Vaishali andar gayi. Laal wala lace ka tha. Bra uske boobs ko upar uthata tha, beech mein ek chhota sa hook. Panty patli thi, side se bandhne wali. Usne use pehna aur aaine ke saamne apni aankhen band kar li. Uska jism is kapde mein kisi aur ka lag raha tha. Bhaara hua, nanga sa, taiyar. Usne socha ki woh bahar nahi jaayegi. Phir Vikram ne pardе ko bahar se pakda.
“Dikha.”
Usne itna khola jitna ek haath jitna. Vikram ne lace dekha, uske boobs ka ubhaar dekha, aur dheere se kaha, “Yeh bhi. Kaala wala bhi pack karwa. Try mat kar. Main ghar pe dekhunga.”
Vaishali ne apne kapde pehne. Haath kaanp rahe the jab usne blouse ke hook band kiye. Bahar aakar usne ladki ki taraf nahi dekha. Vikram ne counter par card diya. Teen set. Ek chhota sa bottle bhi, jo ladki ne bina poochhe bag mein daal diya, “Massage ka, sir, complimentary nahi, lekin madam ke liye achha rahega.” Vikram ne sir hila diya. Bill uske naam par tha. Vaishali ke haath mein bag aaya, halka, lekin use bhaari laga.
Gaadi mein woh khidki ki taraf baithi. Bag god mein. “Itne paison ki zaroorat nahi thi,” usne kaha. “Main purani nightie mein bhi soh jaati.”





“Tu nahi soti. Main sulata hoon.” Vikram ne gaadi start ki. Ek pal ke liye uska haath uski jaangh par aaya, saree ke upar, phir steering par wapas chala gaya. “Aaj raat laal wala pehnega. Main dekhna chahta hoon. Aur tu sharmayegi, phir bhi pehnegi. Yahi teri aadat banegi.”
Vaishali ne bag ko aur kas ke pakda. Uski saans dheemi thi. Dukaan ki thandi hawa ab bhi uske baalon mein lagi hui thi, aur uske neeche, satin aur lace ki yaad, aaine mein apna khud ka jism. Woh gussa thi. Sharminda thi. Aur us sharm ke neeche ek halki si, gandi si bechaini thi, jise woh bag ke neeche daba rahi thi.
Society ke gate par watchman ne phir salute maara. Seedhiyon par chadhte waqt left wala darwaza khula. Arjun bahar nikal raha tha, college bag kandhe par. Usne Vaishali ko dekha, phir uske haath mein dukaan ka bag, jiska paper patla tha aur andar ka rang thoda dikh raha tha. Laal. Kaala. Usne bag ki taraf dekha. Phir Vaishali ke chehre ki taraf. Phir Vikram ki taraf, jo uske peeche aa raha tha.
“Bhabhi,” Arjun ne kaha. Sirf itna.
“Haan,” Vaishali ne kaha. “Tu… nikal raha hai?”
“Haan. Ek kaam tha.”
Vikram ne Arjun ke kandhe par haath rakha, bilkul aaraam se. “Teri bhabhi ke liye kapde laaye. Raat ke. Tu bata, achha kiya na? Woh purani nightie pehen ke soti thi. Maine kaha ab nahi.”
Arjun ka munh khula, phir band hua. Usne bag dobara nahi dekha. “Achha kiya,” usne kaha, aawaz sukhi. “Main chalta hoon.”
Woh seedhiyon se utar gaya. Vaishali darwaze par khadi rahi, bag god mein, neeli saree mein, aur peeche Vikram jo ab ghar ka lock khol raha tha. Arjun ne kuch nahi poocha. Vaishali ne kuch nahi bataya. Bag ke andar laal lace chuppa pada tha, aur uske saamne uska beta seedhiyon se neeche ja raha tha, bina yeh jaane ki aaj raat woh lace usi aurat ke jism par hoga jise woh ab bhabhi ke naam se bula chuka tha.

Raat ko nau baj chuke the jab Vikram ne bag bed par rakh diya.

Vaishali bathroom se nikal kar aayi thi, baal khule, muh dhula hua, purani cotton ki nightie ab bhi uske jism par. Usne bag dekha aur ruk gayi. “Aaj nahi,” usne kaha. “Main thaki hoon. Kal shopping gaye the. Kal pehen lungi.”

“Aaj.” Vikram sofa se nahi, bed ke kinare baitha tha. Kurta utara hua tha, neeche sirf pajama. “Laal wala. Main ne kaha tha. Pehen ke aa.”

Vaishali ne bag khola. Laal lace uske haath mein aaya, halka, jaise kapda ho hi nahi. Bra ka hook chhota tha. Panty side se bandhne wali. Usne use bathroom le jaana chaaha. Vikram ne sir hila diya. “Yahin. Main dekhna chahta hoon kaise pehenti hai.”

“Vikram, band darwaza hai. Kam se kam peeche mud jao.”

“Nahi.”

Woh aaine ke saamne khadi rahi, peeth uski taraf, aur nightie utaari. Peeth nangi ho gayi. Bra purana utara. Uske boobs aaine mein dikhe, bhaare, nipples thande kamre mein sakht hote hue. Usne laal bra pehna. Hook peeche band kiya, do baar bigda, teesri baar laga. Kapda uske boobs ko upar uthata tha, beech mein ek gehri lakeer chhodta hua. Panty usne jaanghon se chadhai, side ke dori bandhe, aur jab woh mudi toh Vikram ka phone uske haath mein tha.

“Photo nahi,” usne turant kaha. Haath seene par aa gaye. “Vikram, photo mat lo. Main… main aise nahi.”

“Hatа haath.”

“Please. Yeh galat hai. Agar kisi ne dekha—”

“Koi nahi dekhega. Sirf main. Hatа.”

Usne haath nahi hataye. Vikram utha, uske paas aaya, aur uske kalaiyon ko dheere se neeche kiya. Phone utha. Pehli photo seedhi, uske chehre se lekar jaanghon tak. Flash nahi thi. Lamp ki peeli roshni. Vaishali ki aankhen band ho gayi. Doosri photo usne bagal se li, taaki boobs ka ubhaar aur kamar ki lakeer ek saath aaye. Teesri usne kheench kar uske honthon ke paas li, sirf collarbone, mangalsutra, aur laal lace ka kinara.

“Bahut khoobsurat lag rahi hai,” usne kaha, aur phone neeche rakh diya. “Sach mein. Main yeh soch ke bhi nahi paaya tha ki tu aise dikhegi.”

Vaishali ki saans tez thi. Sharm uske gale tak chadh gayi thi. “Delete kar dena. Please. Main pehen toh li. Ab delete kar do.”

“Nahi.” Usne phone bedside par rakha, screen neeche. “Yeh meri hai. Tu meri hai. Baith.”

Usne use bed par bithaya. Khud uske saamne ghutnon par aaya, uski jaanghon ke beech, aur pehle uske maathe par kiss kiya. Phir aankh par. Phir gaal par. Phir honthon par, dheere, sirf dabav. Vaishali ne honth band rakhe. Usne doosri baar kiss kiya, neeche wale honth ko apne honthon mein liya, chusa, jab tak woh khul nahi gaye. Jeebh andar gayi. Vaishali ki saans uske muh mein ghul gayi. Uski hatheliyan uske seene par thi, dhakelne jitni nahi, sirf tikne jitni.

Vikram ne kiss toda aur gardan par aaya. Mangalsutra ko side kiya. Collarbone ko chusa. Phir laal bra ka hook khola, ek haath se, aur bra uske boobs se sarak kar god mein gir gaya. Boobs bahar aa gaye, bhaare, garam, nipples sakht. Usne dono ko hatheliyon mein uthaya, unhe ek doosre ki taraf dabaaya, beech ki lakeer gehra ki, aur pehle left nipple ko muh mein liya.

Vaishali ki peeth seedhi ho gayi. “Ah—”

Usne chusa. Dheere, phir gehra, jeebh se ghumaya, daant se halka sa pakda. Doosre nipple par wahi. Beech-beech mein poore boob ko muh mein lene ki koshish ki, jitna aa sake, aur jo bahar raha use haath se nichoda. Vaishali ke haath uske baalon mein gaye. Uski moan ab chhoti nahi thi. Har chusai par ek geeli siski nikal rahi thi, “Vikram… dheere… wahan—” aur dheere nahi hua.

Usne use peeth ke bal lita diya. Taangein kholi. Laal panty ab bhi uske jism par thi. Usne uski ek baah uthayi, kandhe ke neeche, aur apna munh uski bagal mein rakha. Vaishali ka jism jhatka kha gaya.

“Woh mat karo. Wahan—”

Usne jeebh nikali aur uski bagal ki narm, garam skin ko chaata. Ek lambi lakeer. Phir chusa. Vaishali ki kamar bed se ubhar gayi. Uski moan tez ho gayi, sharm aur ek ajeeb si gilgilaahat mili hui. “Ahh—Vikram—wahan gandi—” Usne doosri bagal par wahi kiya, dheere, poori tarah, jab tak uski saans tooti hui na nikalne lagi. Uski baglein geeli ho gayi. Uska jism kaanp raha tha.

Vikram neeche aaya. Panty ki side ki dor kholi. Use utaara. Chut uske saamne thi, pehle se geeli, honth khule hue, lamp ki roshni mein chamakte hue. Usne ek ungli se use chhua, upar se neeche, clit par ruka, aur kaha, “Itni geeli. Photo se, ya isse?”

Vaishali ne aankhen band kar li. “Mat poochho.”

Usne do ungliyan andar ki. Dheere, phir gehra, andar-bahar, angutha clit par ghumta hua. Vaishali ki jaanghein khul gayi, khud. Uski moan ab ek rhythm mein thi, har andar jaane par ek chhoti si, geeli aawaz. Usne teesri ungli nahi daali. Do hi kaafi thi. Usne unhe modа, uski upar wali deewar par dabaaya, aur clit ko tez ghumaya.

Vaishali ki peeth akad gayi. “Vikram—ruk—main—”

Woh aayi uske haath par. Chut ne uski ungliyon ko kas liya, geeli marod, ek lambi kaanpti hui moan uske gale se nikal gayi jo usne pillow mein chhupani chaahi aur chhupa nahi paayi. Ras uski hatheli par bah gaya, ungliyon se hota hua uski jaangh tak. Uska jism bed par dheela pad gaya, saans atki, aankhen dhundhli.

Vikram ne ungliyan bahar nikaali. Unhe dekha, geeli, chamakti hui. Has pada. Halki, gandi, khush hasi.

“Meri biwi,” usne kaha, “photo se darr rahi thi. Haath par aa gayi.”

Vaishali ne chehra side kiya. Laal lace uske bagal mein pada tha. Uski baglein geeli thi, boobs par uske muh ke nishan the, aur uske haath par ab bhi uski garmahat thi. Woh kuch nahi bol paayi. Halkе-halkе kaanp rahi thi, aur Vikram uske upar jhuk kar uske honthon par ek chhoti si kiss rakh kar muskura raha tha, jaise yeh shuruwat ho, khatam nahi.

Vikram ne uske honthon par woh chhoti si kiss rakhi, phir seedha baith gaya, peeth headboard se lagayi, pajama neeche sarka diya. Uska lund pehle se hi sakht tha, mota, naso se bhara hua, supada chamakta hua, dopahar ki dukaan se lekar ab tak ki intezaari usmein lagi hui thi. Vaishali abhi bhi peeth ke bal leti thi, saans atki hui, laal lace uske bagal mein pada hua, boobs par uske muh ke nishan, jaanghon ke beech ab bhi geelapan. Usne uski taraf dekha, phir lund ki taraf, aur nazar hata li.

“Yahan aa,” usne kaha. “Muh mein le.”

Vaishali nahi uthi. “Main yeh achhi tarah se nahi karti. Kal bhi… main sirf itna hi jaanti hoon. Please, seedha—”

“Seekh jaayegi. Aa.”

Usne uski kalai pakdi, zor se nahi, lekin itni pakad se ki woh bed par ghisat-ti hui uske paas aa gayi. Ghutnon par baith gayi, uski jaanghon ke beech. Lamp ki roshni uske nange jism par thi. Mangalsutra uske boobs ke beech latak raha tha. Usne lund ko haath mein liya. Garam tha. Motа. Uske haath ki mutthi poori nahi band hoti thi. Usne ek baar upar se neeche tak haath chalaya, dheere, jaise waqt kheench rahi ho, phir jhuki aur supade ko apne honthon se chhua.

Namkeen. Garam. Uske neeche wale honth par ek halki si geelapan lag gayi.

“Muh khol, Meera.”

Usne muh khola. Pehle sirf supada. Honth uske charon taraf kas gaye. Usne jeebh se neeche wali nas ko chhua, ek baar, aur Vikram ke gale se ek bhaari saans nikal gayi. Usne uske baal pakde, ek mutthi mein, itna ki woh peeche na hat sake, aur dheere se apna lund uske muh mein aur andar kiya. Vaishali ka gala bhar gaya. Aankhon mein paani aa gaya. Usne naak se saans li, honth geele ho gaye, thook uske chin tak behne laga aur wahan se uske boobs par tapakne laga.

Vikram ne use thodi der aise hi rakha. Phir bahar nikala, supade tak, phir phir se andar. Dheere. Gehra. Har baar uske honth uske lund par kas jaate the, aur har baar ek geeli, chhoti si aawaz nikalти thi, uske gale se nahi, uske honthon se. Vaishali ne aankhen band kar li. Sharm uske kaan tak chadh gayi thi. Woh yeh kar rahi thi, ghutnon par, laal lace utara hua, ek aise mard ke lund par jiski mummy ne dopahar ko use bahu kaha tha. Usne socha ki woh ruk jaaye. Uske haath uski jaanghon par the, aur woh ruk nahi rahi thi. Woh dheere-dheere apna sir hila rahi thi, jitna uski pakad hone deti thi.

“Haan,” Vikram ne kaha, aawaz phati hui. “Aise. Aur gehra. Tere honth dekh. Kitne geele ho gaye hain.”

Usne aur ek inch andar kiya. Vaishali ki aankh se ek aansu nikal gaya, thook ke saath mil kar uske gaal par. Usne use wapas khinchha, saans lene di, phir phir se. Paanch baar. Chhe baar. Uska lund uske thook se chamak raha tha. Uske boobs har jhukne par aage latak jaate the, nipples ab bhi sakht, uske muh ke nishan laal. Vikram ne ek haath se uska ek boob pakda aur use nichoda, isi rhythm mein jis rhythm mein woh uske muh ko use kar raha tha.

Woh aur der tak aise hi raha. Vaishali ka jabda dard karne laga. Uske honth sooj gaye. Thook uski gardan tak, mangalsutra tak, beh gaya. Vikram ne aakhri baar gehra kiya, uske gale ke darwaze tak, ek second rok kar rakha, phir poora bahar nikal liya. Vaishali ne khansi. Saans li. Thook uske chin se bed par gira. Uski aankhen laal thi, honth khule, geele.

“Bahut hua,” usne kaha, aur peeth ke bal let gaya, lund uske pet par khada. “Ab tu upar aa.”

Vaishali ne sir hila diya. “Nahi. Main… main upar nahi jaati. Mujhe nahi aata. Main ne kabhi aise nahi kiya. Tum karo. Tum upar raho.”

“Kabhi nahi kiya?”

“Nahi.” Uski aawaz patli thi. “Ramesh— mere pehle— woh hamesha upar rehta tha. Main ne kabhi aise nahi baithhi. Mujhe sharm aati hai. Main gir jaungi. Please, tum kar lo.”

Vikram ne uski baat suni. Uske honthon par wohi hasi aayi, jo dukaan par aayi thi jab usne kaha tha ki woh khud pehna dega. “Toh aaj seekhegi. Meri biwi upar bhi baithegi. Aa.”

Usne uski kamar pakdi aur use kheench kar apni jaanghon par bitha diya. Vaishali ka wazan uske pet par aaya. Uska lund uski chut ke honthon se lag kar uske pet tak khada tha, garam, geela uske apne thook se. Vaishali ne apne dono haath uske seene par rakhe, taaki woh seedhi baith sake. Uske boobs uske aage latak rahe the. Baal uske chehre par aa gaye the. Woh sharm se aankhen band kiye hue thi.

“Utha,” usne kaha. “Aur baith ispar.”

“Vikram—”

Usne khud apna lund pakda, supada uski chut par set kiya, aur uski kamar ko neeche kheenchha.

Poora andar chala gaya.

Vaishali ka munh khul gaya. Ek lambi, tez, bina rok ke moan uske gale se nikal gayi. “Ahhh—Vikram—” Lund is angle mein aur gehra laga. Uska wazan khud use neeche le gaya tha, aur supada uski chut ki aakhri deewar se takra gaya. Uski jaanghein kaanp gayi. Uske haath uske seene par fisal gaye. Ek pal ke liye uska dimaag safed ho gaya. Na sharm. Na naam. Na woh form jismein usne Meera Deshmukh likha tha. Sirf woh bharav, mota, garam, uske pet tak, aur uski apni moan jo kamre mein goonj gayi.

Vikram ne uski kamar pakdi rakhi. “Saans le. Haan. Ab upar neeche. Khud.”

Vaishali nahi hili. Woh uspar baithi rahi, lund andar, saans tooti hui, boobs uske har saans par hilte hue. “Mujhe nahi aata,” usne kaha, aawaz phati. “Main kaise—”

“Jaise tu abhi mere muh par jhuk rahi thi. Wahi. Upar. Neeche.”

Usne pehli baar khud ko uthaya. Thoda sa. Lund aadha bahar aaya, geeli aawaz ke saath, aur woh wapas baith gayi, poora, ek chhoti si cheekh ke saath. Doosri baar usne thoda aur uthaya. Teesri baar uski jaanghon ne rhythm pakad li, dheemi, sharmili, lekin saaf. Har baar woh upar jaati, hawa uski geeli chut ko chhuti, aur har baar woh neeche baithti, lund andar tak, uske pet ke neeche tak, aur uske gale se ek moan nikalти. “Ahh—ahh—Vikram—bahut gehra—”

Uska dimaag khali raha. Woh soch nahi pa rahi thi ki woh kya kar rahi hai. Woh sirf kar rahi thi. Uski kamar uske haathon mein thi, lekin hil woh rahi thi. Uske boobs har baar neeche aane par uske seene se takrate the. Mangalsutra uske boobs ke beech baar-baar hit kar raha tha. Pasina uski gardan se uske boobs par, wahan se uski kamar par, beh raha tha. Laal lace kahin bed ke kinare gir chuka tha.

Vikram neeche se dekh raha tha. Uski biwi, 42 saal ki, uske lund par baithi hui, khud upar-neeche hoti hui, moan karti hui, aankhen band, honth khule. Use maza aa raha tha. Usne uske boobs pakde, unhe nichoda, nipples ko ungliyon mein liya, aur neeche se apni kamar uthani shuru ki.

Ab sirf woh nahi hil rahi thi.

Uska dhakka neeche se aaya, gehra, sakht, uski baithne ki rhythm se milta hua. Vaishali ki moan aur tez ho gayi. “Ahhh—ruk—nahi—aur gehra—” Woh ruka nahi. Usne uski kamar pakad kar use neeche khinchha aur khud upar dhakka maara, ek saath, baar-baar. Bed hilne lagi. Headboard deewar se dheemi takraahat karne lagi, lekin Vaishali ko uski sunai nahi di. Uski chut itni geeli thi ki har dhakka ek phachak karti aawaz ke saath andar jaata tha. Ras uski jaanghon se hota hua uske lund par, uske pet par, beh raha tha.

“Dekh,” usne kaha, saans phati hui. “Kitni achhi se chadh rahi hai. Kehti thi nahi aata. Ab khud neeche baith rahi hai.”

Vaishali ne aankhen kholi. Ek pal. Usne apne aap ko dekha, uske upar, boobs uske haathon mein, lund apni chut mein, aur phir aankhen band kar li. Sharm wapas aayi, lekin uske jism ne use nahi maana. Uski kamar tez ho gayi. Woh khud neeche baithne lagi, uske dhakke ka saath dete hue, har baar thoda aur gehra, har baar ek lambi moan ke saath. “Ahhh—Vikram—main—phir se—”

Doosri lehar pehli se tez thi.

Uski chut ne uske lund ko kas liya, baar-baar, geeli marod ke saath. Uski jaanghein kaanp gayi. Uske haath uske seene par gir gaye. Ek lambi, kaanpti hui moan uske gale se nikal gayi, “Ahhh—haaye—”, aur woh uske upar dheeli pad gayi, sir uske kandhe mein chhupa hua, jism kaanpta hua, lund ab bhi poora andar. Vikram ne use aise hi pakda. Usne neeche se dhakke nahi roke. Dheere, gehre, uski lehar ke andar se hote hue. Vaishali har dhakke par ek chhoti, tooti hui siski nikaalti rahi, munh uske gale mein, saans uski skin par.

Woh aise hi chalta raha. Ek minute. Do. Vaishali ka jism dheela tha, lekin uski chut ab bhi use pakad rahi thi. Vikram ki saans tez ho gayi. Usne uski kamar aur kas ke pakdi, use poora neeche bithaya, aur neeche se tez, chhote, gehre dhakke maarne laga. Vaishali ki moan uske kaan mein gir rahi thi, ab shabdon mein nahi, sirf aawaz mein. Uska lund uske andar phool raha tha. Usne aakhri baar use neeche khinchha, poora andar dhasaaya, aur chhod diya.

Cum andar gaya. Gaadha, garam, lambe jhatkon mein. Vaishali ne mehsoos kiya, apne pet ke neeche, aur ek dheemi si saans uske gale se nikli. Woh uske seene par leti rahi. Hil nahi paayi. Uska dimaag ab bhi khali tha, dheere-dheere wapas aa raha tha, sharm ke saath, thakaan ke saath, aur us garmahat ke saath jo uske andar uske cum ki thi.

Vikram ne uske baal seene se hataye. Uske maathe par kiss kiya. “Dekha,” usne kaha, aawaz ab bhi bhaari. “Aata hai tujhe. Agli baar khud chadhegi. Main nahi kheenchunga.”

Vaishali ne jawab nahi diya. Uski saans uske seene par pad rahi thi. Jab usne lund bahar nikala, dheere, toh cum uski chut se nikal kar uski jaangh par, uske pet par, beh gaya. Woh uske bagal mein sarak gayi, ek taraf, laal lace ab bhi bed ke kinare, phone bedside par, screen neeche. Usne aankhen band kar li. Uski jaanghein kaanp rahi thi. Honth sooje hue the. Aur uske dimaag mein, khali pan ke peeche, ek baat baith gayi thi jise woh abhi bol nahi pa rahi thi — ki usne khud upar-neeche kiya tha, aur ki agli baar, jab woh kahega, uska jism shayad usse pehle haan kar dega.

Arjun ne teen din tak apne aap se kaha ki woh awaaz television ki hai.

Pehli raat woh seedha so gaya tha, ya usne aisa maan liya tha. Doosri raat headboard ek baar deewar se lagi, phir chup ho gayi, aur usne pillow kaan par rakh liya. Teesri raat woh uth kar baitha raha, andhere mein, aur jab awaaz ruki toh usne socha ki shayad woh galat samajh raha hai. Naya ghar. Nayi biwi. Logon ki zindagi hoti hai. Yeh baat woh apne dimaag mein poori line ki tarah bola karta tha, jaise kisi aur ko samjha raha ho.

Chauthi subah woh bahaana khatam ho gaya.

Woh apne flat se nikal kar doodh lene ja raha tha. Seedhiyon par Vaishali pehle se thi, neeche wali landing par, ek thaili haath mein, pallu kandhe par. Usne use “Ma” nahi kaha. Woh ab nahi keh sakta tha. Usne “Bhabhi” kaha, aur awaaz uske gale mein atak gayi, kyunki usne upar dekha tha.

Pallu sarak gaya tha. Gale ke neeche, collarbone ke paas, ek nishan tha. Chhota nahi. Daant ka nahi, chusne ka, gehra laal, kinare par thoda neela. Usne concealer lagaya tha. Subah ki roshni mein concealer kaam nahi kar raha tha. Neeche, blouse ke upar ki skin par, ek aur halka sa daag tha, jo pallu ne chhupana tha aur chhupaya nahi tha.

Vaishali ne uski nazar pakdi. Usne pallu upar kheenchha, ek hi jhatke mein, aur thaili doosre haath mein badal li.

“Doodh khatam ho gaya tha,” usne kaha. “Vikram ko bina chai ke office nahi bhejna tha.”

Arjun ne sir hila diya. Woh uske gale ki taraf dobara nahi dekh paaya, aur isi liye usne uski chaal dekhi. Seedhiyon se utarte waqt uska ek pair doosre se thoda dheere pad raha tha. Koi langdaana nahi tha. Sirf ek aisa farak jo usne apni maa mein pehle kabhi nahi dekha tha, aur jo woh ab dekh kar bhool nahi pa raha tha. Woh dheere chal rahi thi, jaise andar se kuch abhi bhi sooja hua ho.

“Main le aata,” usne kaha.

“Ho gaya. Tu college ja.”

Woh neeche chali gayi. Arjun landing par khada raha. Left wale darwaze ke andar Priya ka radio chal raha tha, koi purana gaana, aur us gaane ke neeche uske apne ghar ki khamoshi thi. Ramesh shayad abhi bhi so raha tha. Arjun ke paas chaabi thi. Usne lock nahi khola. Woh wapas apne kamre mein gaya, bag nahi uthaya, aur bed par baith gaya.

Ab woh television nahi keh sakta tha.

Usne pichhle dinon ko ek saath rakha. Pehli raat ki takraahat. Subah ki chai, jismein Vaishali ke honth thode sooje hue the. Shopping ke bag ka laal kona, jo usne seedhiyon par dekha tha aur jiske baare mein usne “achha kiya” keh diya tha, kyunki Vikram ka haath uske kandhe par tha. Kal dopahar jab woh pani lene aaya tha, tab Vaishali ne darwaza itni der baad khola tha ki uske baal bikhre hue the, aur uske peeche Vikram towel mein khada muskura raha tha. Usne tab bhi kuch nahi kaha. Usne glass liya aur chala gaya.

Roz.

Yeh shabd uske munh mein kadwa laga. Roz. Sirf ek raat nahi, jo woh apne aap ko suhagrat keh kar chhupa sake. Roz subah uski chaal mein woh farak. Roz uske gale par koi naya nishan, concealer ke neeche. Roz Vikram ka haath uski kamar par, uske saamne, jaise Arjun koi mehmaan ho jo jaldi chala jaayega.

Arjun ne apne haath dekhe. Woh kaanp nahi rahe the. Woh khali the. Usi haath ne profile banayi thi. Usi haath ne photo chuni thi. Usi haath ne Ramesh ko kaha tha ki ek saal, sirf ek saal, phir Priya ka rishta, phir sab wapas. Ek saal ab ek hafte mein bhi nahi tha, aur wapas ka rasta uske saamne band dikh raha tha. Register ho chuka tha. Naam Meera Deshmukh ho chuka tha. Flat ke paper mein jo sign tha, woh uski maa ka nahi tha. Uski bua ka tha. Uski bua jo uski maa thi.

Usne almari kholi. Neeche wali shelf par woh lifafa rakha tha, jismein account ka paper tha. Usne use nahi nikala. Use pata tha andar kya hai. Raqam. Date. Vikram ka naam transfer mein. Usne darwaza band kiya. Ek pal ke liye usne socha ki woh abhi us darwaze par jaaye, Vikram se kahe ki bahar aao, yeh aurat tumhari biwi nahi hai, yeh meri maa hai, aur tum use roz nahi chhu sakte. Agle hi pal usne woh sentence poora soch liya, aur use pata chala ki woh use bol nahi paayega. Vikram use bhai maanta tha. Vikram use uski bhabhi ka devar maanta tha. Agar sach bahar aaya, toh pehle security officer, pehle fraud, pehle wahi ladka jo profile le kar gaya tha.

Woh bed par wapas baitha.

College ka time nikal gaya. Usne bag nahi uthaya. Priya ne bahar se pukara, ek baar, “Arjun, chai.” Usne jawab nahi diya. Priya doosri baar nahi aayi. Usne shayad maan liya ki woh so raha hai. Arjun so nahi raha tha. Woh us nishan ko dekh raha tha, jo ab uske saamne nahi tha, lekin uski aankh mein atka hua tha. Laal. Concealer. Pallu jo late se upar aaya tha.

Dopahar ko usne phone uthaya. Lawyer ka number usne teen din pehle save kiya tha, kisi aur kaam ke bahane, aur ek baar bhi call nahi kiya tha. Usne number dekha. Ramesh ko batana chahiye tha. Ramesh is ghar mein baap tha, pati tha, aur ab bhaiya tha. Arjun ne phone wapas rakh diya. Ramesh se pehle woh khud sunna chahta tha ki koi rasta hai ya nahi. Agar nahi hai, toh woh apne baap ko woh nahi sunana chahta tha jo woh khud sunne se darr raha tha.

Shaam ko Vikram office se aaya. Landing par unki mulakat ho gayi. Vikram ne uske kandhe par haath rakha, pehle ki tarah, aur kaha, “Bhai, teri bhabhi ne aaj bhindi banayi hai. Aa jaana. Akeli bore ho jaati hai jab main late karta hoon.”

Arjun ne uske chehre par dekha. Koi shak nahi tha. Koi darr nahi tha. Ek aadmi apni biwi ke baare mein baat kar raha tha, aur uske devar ko khaane bula raha tha, kyunki use lagta tha ki ladka sharmaata hai.

“Aaj nahi,” Arjun ne kaha. “Kaam hai.”

“Kal aa jaana.” Vikram ne use chhoda aur apna darwaza khola. Andar se Vaishali ki awaaz aayi, dheemi, “Aa gaye?” Vikram ne kuch kaha jo Arjun ne poora nahi suna. Darwaza band ho gaya.

Arjun apne kamre mein gaya. Light nahi jalayi. Woh bed par leta raha, deewar ki taraf muh karke, aur is baar usne pillow kaan par nahi rakha. Usne sunne ka faisla pehle hi kar liya tha. Jo aayega, woh aayega. Usne apne aap se yeh bhi keh liya tha ki kal subah woh lawyer ke number par call karega, Ramesh ko saath le kar ya akela, lekin call karega. Aaj raat woh sirf woh hoga jo usne khud banaya tha. Ek ladka, ek patli deewar, aur uske us paar woh aurat jise woh maa nahi keh sakta tha.

Raat ko awaaz aayi.

Pehle nahi. Kareeb gyarah ke baad. Ek kursi. Paani. Phir bed. Phir Vaishali ki saans, jo usne pehchaan li, kyunki woh uski thi, bees saal se usi ghar ki. Phir ek dabi hui siski, phir Vikram ki awaaz, shabd saaf nahi, sirf tone. Phir rhythm. Deewar dheemi, lekin kaafi. Arjun ne aankhen band nahi ki. Usne chhat dekhi. Uske kaan garam ho gaye. Uski mutthi band ho gayi, aur khul gayi, kyunki band rakhne ka koi matlab nahi tha.

Woh roz tha. Aaj bhi. Kal bhi hoga.

Jab awaaz ruki, tab bahut der ho chuki thi. Arjun utha nahi. Usne socha ki subah woh use rokega, seedhiyon par, aur kahega ki woh lawyer ke paas ja raha hai. Phir usne socha ki woh kya kahega. Tumhari maa ko us aadmi se kaun bachayega, yeh sawaal uske paas nahi tha. Uske paas sirf ek number tha, ek lifafa tha, aur ek nishan tha jo concealer se nahi chhupa tha.

Woh aankhen kholi rakhe leta raha, jab tak bahar ki peeli light kam na ho gayi. Subah hone mein ab bhi waqt tha. Usne phone bedside par rakh liya, screen neeche, jaise agar woh use dekhta raha toh call abhi kar dega, aur abhi karne ka hausla uske paas nahi tha.

Next day morning.


Vikram office nikal chuka tha jab Arjun ne darwaza khatkhataya. Vaishali ne socha hoga ki doodh wala hai, ya society ka koi aadmi, kyunki usne pallu theek kiya aur bina aankh se dekhe darwaza khol diya. Saamne Arjun khada tha. College bag nahi tha. Chehre par neend nahi thi. Usne peeche mud kar seedhiyon ko dekha, ek baar, phir kaha, “Andar aa sakta hoon? Do minute.”

Vaishali ne use andar aane diya. Darwaza band kiya. Lock nahi lagaya. Hall mein kal raat ki ek khali cup table par thi, Vikram ki. Arjun ne use dekha, phir Vaishali ko. Neeli saree. Khula blouse. Sindoor. Gale par concealer, jo aaj thoda zyada lagaya gaya tha, aur phir bhi kinare se ek laalpan chhoot raha tha.

“Baith,” usne kaha.

“Nahi.” Arjun khada raha. Uski awaaz pehle hi kaanp rahi thi, isliye usne use sakht karne ki koshish ki, aur sakht karte hue woh aur buri ho gayi. “Main kal raat se jaag raha hoon. Usse pehle bhi. Main yeh nahi keh sakta ki mujhe pata nahi. Mujhe pata hai. Roz. Tumhare gale par nishan hai. Tum seedhiyon par dheere chal rahi thi. Main ne suna.”

Vaishali ka haath pallu par ruk gaya. Ek pal ke liye uske chehre par wohi darr aaya jo usne pehli raat ko mehsoos kiya tha. Phir darr hatt gaya. Uski jagah kuch aur aa gaya, thanda aur seedha.

“Tune suna,” usne kaha. “Aur ab aaya hai. Teen din baad. Chaar din baad. Jab usne mujhe pehli baar is kamre mein band kiya, tab tu kahan tha?”

“Main—”

“Tune profile banayi thi.” Vaishali ne cup uthaya, jaise use rakhne ki jagah chahiye ho, phir use wapas rakh diya, kyunki haath kaanp rahe the aur woh nahi chahti thi ki woh gir jaaye. “Tune meri photo chuni thi. Tune apne baap ko kaha tha ki bs kuch din aur Shaadi ke din switch hona tha. Yaad hai? Main Meera bankar jaungi, register hoga, aur usi din, ya usi raat se pehle, sach bahar aa jaayega. Priya uske saamne hogi. Main wapas aaungi. Yahi tha na? Yahi tune mujhe kitchen mein khade hokar kaha tha, jab maine kaha tha ki yeh khatarnaak hai.”

Arjun ne nazar neeche kar li. “Switch nahi ho paya. Vikram jaldi le gaya. Register usi shaam ho gaya. Main andar nahi ja paya. Papa bhi nahi gaye. Woh… woh ruk gaya.”

“Woh ruk gaya.” Vaishali ne yeh do shabd aise dohraye jaise woh unhe chakh rahi ho. “Aur main uske ghar mein reh gayi. Uski biwi bankar. Uska naam lekar. Uska mangalsutra pehen kar. Tu bahar khada raha, aur teri maa andar thi. Ab tu mujhse pooch raha hai ki main roz uske saath kyun hoon.”

“Main yeh nahi pooch raha.” Arjun ki awaaz phat gayi. “Main yeh pooch raha hoon ki kya koi rasta hai. Lawyer. Koi paper. Kuch. Main ja sakta hoon. Papa ko le ja sakta hoon. Tumhe uske haath se nikalne ka koi tareeka hoga.”

Vaishali hasi. Hasi nahi thi. Sirf ek chhoti si, sukhi saans. “Tareeka. Tune socha hai woh tareeka kya hai? Woh mera pati hai. Register par. Court ke kagaz par. Society ke form par maine khud Meera Deshmukh likha hai, tere papa ke saamne. Tu use kaise rokega ki woh mujhe na chhue? Tu uske ghar mein ghusega? Tu use bolega ki yeh aurat teri maa hai, isliye apni biwi ko mat chhuna? Woh tujhe bhai maanta hai. Woh mujhe teri bua maanta hai. Agar tune sach kaha, toh woh tujhe chor bolega. Fraud bolega. Paisa wapas maangega. Aur jo tune kiya hai, uska paper uske paas hai.”

“Main jail jaane ko taiyar hoon.”

“Taiyar hai?” Vaishali ne ek kadam aage badhaya. Uski awaaz ab dheemi nahi thi. “Tu taiyar hai. Main nahi pooch rahi. Main yeh keh rahi hoon ki tu taiyar hoke bhi mujhe yahan se nahi nikal sakta. Woh mera pati hai. Kanoon uska hai. Raat uski hai. Subah uski hai. Jab woh haath lagata hai, toh main use yeh nahi keh sakti ki ruk jao, mera beta bahar hai, mera pehla pati bhaiya ban chuka hai, yeh shaadi jhooth thi. Woh sunega nahi. Aur agar sun bhi le, toh pehle tujhe pakdega. Tere papa ko pakdega. Priya ko bhi, kyunki uska naam isme hai. Tune socha tha switch ho jaayega. Switch nahi hua. Ab main uski biwi hoon, aur tu mujhse gussa hai kyunki main uske neeche se subah uthti hoon.”

Arjun ka chehra laal ho gaya. “Main tumse gussa nahi hoon. Main usse gussa hoon. Main khud se gussa hoon. Main ne yeh nahi chaaha tha ki woh tumhe roz—”

“Mat bol.” Vaishali ne haath utha diya. “Mat bol ki roz kya. Tune suna hai. Tune dekh liya hai. Ab us lafz ko mere saamne mat rakh. Mujhe pata hai mera jism kya kar raha hai. Mujhe tere se yeh sunne ki zaroorat nahi hai.”

Woh khamosh ho gaye. Kitchen se gas ki halki si tick sunai di, jo usne band karna bhool gayi thi. Vaishali ne palat kar use band kiya. Jab woh wapas mudi, tab uski aankhen geeli thi, lekin aansu nahi gire. Usne unhe wapas kheench liya.

“Tune mujhe becha,” usne kaha, ab dheere. “Tere papa ne mujhe becha. Dono ne mil kar ek plan banaya jo pehle din toot gaya. Aur tootne ke baad tum dono ne mujhe nikalne ki jagah yeh socha ki shayad ek hafte mein kuch ho jaayega. Ek hafte mein kya hota hai, Arjun? Ek hafte mein ek aurat ko aadat pad jaati hai darwaza band karne ki. Ek hafte mein uska naam badal jaata hai. Ek hafte mein uska pati use subah uthate hi chhoo leta hai, aur woh yeh nahi keh paati ki main tumhari nahi hoon, kyunki kehne ka matlab hai tera barbaad hona. Tu mujhse pooch raha hai main use kaise rokun. Main nahi rok sakti. Tu rok. Ya terа papa rok. Tum dono ne yeh shuru kiya tha. Main ne sirf haan ki thi, kyunki tune kaha tha ki kuch nahi hoga.”

Arjun ne darwaze ka kinara pakad liya. Uski mutthi safed ho gayi. “Main lawyer ke paas jaunga. Aaj. Papa ko nahi bataunga agar tum nahi chahti. Main akela jaunga.”

“Ja.” Vaishali ne pallu theek kiya. Concealer wala hissa phir se chhup gaya, adhoora. “Ja kar pooch. Woh tujhe wahi batayega jo main tujhe bata chuki hoon. Woh mera pati hai. Use rokne ka koi kanoon nahi hai. Jo kanoon hai, woh tum dono ke khilaaf hai. Aur jab tu wapas aaye, toh mujhse yeh mat kehna ki tune koshish ki. Koshish se mera gale ka nishan nahi mitta.”




Bahar seedhiyon par koi chala. Dono ruk gaye. Kadmon ki awaaz neeche chali gayi. Arjun ne darwaza khola. Landing khali thi. Usne ek baar peeche dekha. Vaishali table ke paas khadi thi, cup ab bhi wahi, uska chehra thaka hua, gussa ab cheekh mein nahi, uski kamar ki seedhai mein.


“Ma,” usne kaha, bahut dheere.

“Bhabhi,” usne kaha. “Darwaza khula hai. Koi sun lega. Aur Vikram ko teri bhabhi chahiye, teri maa nahi. Ja.”

Arjun bahar nikla. Darwaza uske peeche band hua, usne nahi, usne. Woh seedhiyon par ruka, ek minute, do minute, jaise koi use wapas bula lega. Koi nahi bulaaya. Andar gas band thi. Cup table par thi. Aur Vaishali usi jagah khadi rahi, jab tak uske haath kaanpna band nahi kar gaye, aur jab tak usne yeh maan nahi liya ki gussa nikal chuka hai, lekin uska pati shaam ko wapas aayega, aur us gusse se uska haath nahi rukega.