[Joker44]

Cabinet ka pehla darwaza, mahila kalyan aur ek special port-welfare prabhari, uske naam par nikal chuka tha, akhbar mein photo thi, pallu theek, muskaan naram, aur sheher ne usko “Pushpa ki rani, ab minister” kehna shuru kiya. Posters badle, haveli mein log aane lage, mithai, aashirwad, aur Pushpa ji proud the, kali shirt, beedi, aankhon mein woh ghamand jo ab unki rani ki kursi se aur tez ho gaya tha. “Rani, tu minister hai, log tere darwaze par aate hain, main dekhta hoon,” unhone ek subah kaha, “main proud hoon, tu jeetti ja.”

Srivalli jaanti thi yeh darwaza anjam nahi, shuruaat hai. Rudra ab bhi CM the, unki zabaan uski file mein thi, unki palang uski marzi par thi, aur unke andar woh purana malik ab bhi baitha tha jo chahta tha rani unke neeche rahe, unke barabar nahi. Office ke din lambe the, files, paani ki line, port-welfare ke kaagaz, Prakash ki nazar, Venkat ki call, aur shaam ko haveli, thali, palang, Pushpa ji ka haath, woh dohra jeevan jo ab uski aadat tha.

Office ka kamra saaf tha, flags, files, ek chhoti si window, aur Srivalli roz subah pallu kas kar wahan baithti, papers padhti, logon ko milti, kabhi mandi ke log, kabhi port ke, kabhi party ke. Ek subah office mein Prakash aa kar, formal, bole, “Rani ji, port-welfare ki file chal rahi hai, aapki nazar chahiye, teen jagah atki hui thi, ab nikal rahi hai. Aap jeet ke baad bhi soch kar chal rahi hain, yeh achha hai.” Usne papers padhe, sign kiye, “Naidu ji, atke to meri taraf dekhiyega, jaise kaha tha, aaj bhi wahi baat hai.” Unhone sir hilaaya, “Wahi baat hai, record par nahi, aapki yaad mein.” Venkat ne ek shaam phone kiya, “Rani, tu theek kaam kar rahi hai, lekin upar wali kursi ke liye teri nazar Rudra ji par rakhni hogi, woh jaldi nahi dega, tu jaldi maang, yeh meri salah hai.” Usne kaha, “Salah rakh li, minister ji, main soch kar maangungi, chillakar nahi.” Venkat ne kaha, “Soch, lekin der mat kar, rani, kursi uski hai jo waqt pakde.” Phone kat gaya, aur Srivalli ne window ki taraf dekha, sheher, dhoop, ek poster door, uska chehra. *Main soch kar maangungi, yeh meri aadat ho gayi hai, aur jo mutthi mein hai, usko main ab sirf rakhne nahi, kholne ke liye use karungi, jab time aayega. Waqt kareeb hai, Jolly keh rahe hain, Venkat keh rahe hain, aur meri file keh rahi hai ki ab neeche baithna kamzori hogi, barabar baithna meri jeet.* Usne papers band kiye, pallu theek kiya, aur agla visitor andar aane diya, muskaan naram, hisaab andar, jaise roz karti hai, jaise rani karti hai.

Ek dopahar Jolly ne party office mein kaha, awaaz dheemi, “Bhabhi, baap ji tujhe bula rahe hain, shaam ko kothi, akele. Woh soch rahe hain, tu tez bhaag rahi hai, yeh unke lafz hain, meri nahi. Tu ja, tu shart rakh, main kinare. CM ki baat ab door nahi, lekin unki zabaan ke bagair nahi nikalegi.” Srivalli ne pallu theek kiya, simple office wali saree, aur kaha, “Main jaaungi, Jolly. Aap unko itna keh dena ki main girane nahi jaa rahi, baat karne jaa rahi hoon. Meri file meri hai, unki awaaz bhi meri mutthi mein hai, lekin main izzat se baat karungi, kisi dabav se nahi, jab tak unki zabaan nikal na jaaye.” Unhone sir hilaaya, “Izzat theek hai, bhabhi, himmat bhi rakhna. Woh malik banna chahte hain, tu barabar baithna.” “Barabar baithungi,” usne kaha, “neeche nahi.”

Us ke baad teen-chaar din aur guzre, office, haveli, ek chhoti si public meeting, jahan logon ne “minister ji” kaha, aur uske honth ek pal ke liye ruk gaye, phir muskuraye. Pushpa ji us meeting mein peeche the, taali baja rahe the, aur raste par unhone kaha, “Rani, log tera naam lete hain, mera bhi, lekin tera pehle. Yeh mujhe bura nahi lagta, yeh mujhe bada lagta hai.” Usne unka haath pakada, “Aap bade ho, Pushpa ji, main aapki rani hoon, yeh nahi chhupungi, minister bhi hoon, yeh bhi nahi chhupungi.” Ghar par maa ji ne khana zyada banaya, “Log aate hain, beti, ghar chhota nahi lagna chahiye.” Srivalli ne unke pair chhue, “Ghar bada hai, maa ji, aapki wajah se.”

Raat ko palang par kabhi-kabhi uski neend late hoti, ceiling, pankha, unka haath, aur sochti, *Cabinet mila, jeet mili, ab agla naam maangna hai, aur maangne ke liye mujhe unki kothi par jaana hoga, unki awaaz ke saath, meri haan ke saath. Yeh khel goli ka nahi, zabaan ka hai, aur main isko bhi soch kar kheloongi.* Jolly ka message un dino mein ek aur baar aaya, “Kal shaam, bhabhi, ab der nahi karni, woh taiyar hain sunne ke liye, tu taiyar rahiye bolne ke liye.” Usne reply kiya, “Tayar hoon. Kinare rahiye.”

Us shaam haveli ke sheeshe mein Srivalli ne taupe saree pehni, pallu tight, kam zevar, chhote tops, mangalsutra bahar, sindoor saaf, jaise koi minister meeting mein aayi ho, rani-dulhan nahi. Almari mein navy Kanjeevaram ek taraf thi, cream jeet wali ek taraf, aur aaj usne simple chuna, kyunki aaj mohar kapde ki nahi, zabaan ki thi. Pushpa ji darwaze par aaye, “Rani, uncle ke yahan? Main chalun?” “Aap nahi, Pushpa ji, andar wali baat hai, party ki, kal aap saath chaliye, aaj meri file. Late hua to phone kar dungi.” Unhone maathe par kiss kiya, “Ja, tu jaanti hai. Main yahin hoon.” *Aap kehte hain main jaanti hoon, aaj main maangne jaa rahi hoon, neeche baithne nahi.*

Ek shaam unhone usko kothi bulaya, peeli light, cream kurta, whiskey, aur awaaz mein woh narmi jo dabav nahi, hisaab thi. Srivalli usi simple taupe saree mein dakhil hui, pallu tight, kam zevar, chhote tops, mangalsutra bahar, sindoor saaf. Gaadi kothi ke raste par thi, taupe pallu god mein, aur usne drive nahi li thi, sirf yaad li thi, ki awaaz uski mutthi mein hai, aur aaj woh awaaz uthani nahi, dikhani bhi nahi, sirf itna hisaab rakhna hai ki woh jaanti hai, woh jaante hain. *Aaj main girane nahi jaa rahi, barabar baithne jaa rahi hoon. Agar unki zabaan kal nikal jaaye, to meri kursi aur kareeb aayegi, bina sheher mein shor machaye.*

Servant ne andar bheja, darwaza band hua, aur Rudra ne usko kursi di, whiskey badhayi, usne paani maanga, jaise har baar maangti hai, hosh ke liye. “Paani, phir se,” unhone kaha, muskurate hue, “tu hamesha hosh mein rehna chahti hai, rani, yeh mujhe ab pasand bhi aata hai, pehle gussa aata tha.” “Hosh chahiye, uncle,” usne kaha, “aaj ki baat hosh ke bagair nahi hogi.”

“Rani, tu tez bhaag rahi hai,” unhone kaha, glass ghumate hue, nazar uske pallu par, phir aankhon par. “Cabinet mili, jeet mili, files tere haath mein hain, sheher tera naam leta hai, Pushpa ke saath, kabhi akele. Lekin CM ki kursi meri hai, aur main yeh kursi kisi bahu ke naam par nahi utarne wala, jab tak main khud na kahun. Tu kya maangti hai, seedhe bol. Jolly ne kaha tu baat karne aayi hai, girane nahi, to bol, main sun raha hoon.”

Srivalli ne paani ka ghoont liya, glass rakha, unki aankhon mein dekha, awaaz naram, lekin kathi, jaise dinner par thi, jaise recording ke din thi. “Main aapki kursi chheenne nahi aayi, uncle, main uske baad ki baat karne aayi hoon. Aapki umr, aapki party, aapki thakan, yeh sheher dekhta hai. Main aapka chehra ban sakti hoon, aapka successor, aapka CM ka naam, jab aap taiyar hon, lekin woh naam meri mutthi se nikalna chahiye, aapki meherbani se nahi, kyunki meri file mein aapki awaaz hai, meri jeet hai, meri goli bhi hai, meri ships bhi. Main aapko girana nahi chahti, main aapke saath khadi rehna chahti hoon, lekin ab main aapke neeche wali rani nahi rahungi. Aap bolo, kab, kaise, meri taraf se zubaan nikalegi party mein, ki Srivalli agla chehra hai. Yeh meri maang hai, seedhi.”

Rudra lambe time tak chup rahe, glass ghumaya, peeli light unke chehre par, phir dheeme hans pade, woh hansi jo pehle darati thi, aaj hisaab jaisi thi, thodi si haar, thodi si izzat. “Tu meri awaaz se meri kursi maang rahi hai, aur yeh bhi keh rahi hai tu mujhe girana nahi chahti. Himmat hai, rani, yeh main maanta hoon. Theek hai, main sochunga, lekin sochne ka ek hisaab hai. Aaj raat tu meri palang par, meri haan nahi, teri haan se, aur us ke baad main party mein woh lafz nikaalunga jo tu chahti hai: agla chehra, meri barkat, teri kursi. Manzoor? Yeh meri baat hai, tu bhi apni shart rakh, main sununga.”

Usne saans li, andar gussa bhi tha, josh bhi, hisaab bhi. Peeli light, taupe pallu, unki nazar, glass ke cubes, aur woh baat ki kal zabaan nikalni chahiye, hafton baad nahi, kyunki waqt unke haath mein chhodna phir se neeche baithna hota. Usne sheeshe ke bahar ek pal dekha, kothi ka aangan, ped, door ek guard, aur socha ki yeh kamra kitni raaton se uski keemat ka hissa raha hai, aur aaj yeh keemat kursi ke naam par uth rahi hai, meri haan ke naam par. Gussa isliye tha ki unhone phir palang ko hisaab banaya, josh isliye tha ki naam kal nikal sakta hai, hisaab isliye tha ki uski haan ab bhi uski hai, unki nahi. Usne glass chhua, paani nahi piya, hatheli thandi rakhne ke liye, phir kaha, awaaz halki, lekin tuti nahi, lekin pehle ek aur line, “Uncle, palang meri haan se hogi, aapki shart se nahi rukegi, yeh farq rakhie. Aap maang sakte ho, main de sakti hoon, lekin main neeche nahi baithungi, aaj bhi, kal bhi.” Unhone sir hilaaya, “Farq samajh gaya, rani. Bol, manzoor hai?” “Manzoor hai, meri haan se, dheere,” usne kaha, awaaz halki, lekin tuti nahi. “Aapki zabaan kal nikalni chahiye, hafton baad nahi, party ke logon ke saamne, cameras ke saamne, itna saaf ki koi palat na sake. Yeh meri shart hai. Mangalsutra rahega. Jo kahungi ruko, rukiye. Aaj mohar meri haan se, kal aapki zabaan meri file se.”

“Kal,” unhone kaha, uth kar uske kareeb aate hue, glass neeche, haath abhi nahi lagaya, “pakka. Pallu utar, rani. Lu, ya tu khud aaye? Bol, main zabardasti nahi karunga, tu jaanti hai.”

“Aap lijiye, meri haan se,” usne kaha, unki aankhon mein dekhte hue, nazar nahi hatayi. “Dheere, soch kar, jaise recording wale din, meri haan se.”