Gulshan-e-Iqbal ke us purane flat ki chhat se sham ke aakash mein utarti hui patang pehle aahista aahista gol gol ghumi, phir hawa ka rukh badla aur woh kat kar seedhi sehan mein aa giri. Kite girne ki sari awaaz nahi thi — sirf dhaga tootne ki sarak aur phir kagaz ke pankh ka fiza mein pharpharana. 28 saal ki Kishwar khirki ke pass khari chai ke cup ko haathon mein ghuma rahi thi jab woh rung birang rang ki patang unke ghar ke aangan mein aa giri, aur aangan ki deewar ke us paar se bachon ki awazein ubhri, khush bhi, naraz bhi, jaise unki kismat ki dorr kisi aur ke haathon mein aa phansi ho. Us patang ne Kishwar ke andar kuch purana hila diya. Das saal pehle, Karachi ki isi chhat par, us waqt 35 saal ka Imran uske saath khara tha aur usne kaha tha ke dorr pakri ho to patang kahi nahi jati. Imran ko gaye teen saal ho gaye the. Aur ab is sehan mein ek tuti hui patang giri thi jiska koi dawa dar nahi tha, sirf woh khali dhaga jo hawa mein lehra raha tha, aur Kishwar ko laga jaise uski zindagi ki bhi dorr kahin toot chuki hai aur woh patang abhi bhi neeche aa rahi hai.
Woh cup sink mein rakha aur sehan mein utar aayi. Bachche deewar ke us taraf chup chaap kharay thay, shayad soch rahay thay ke padosan patang wapas karegi ya nahi. Kishwar ne patang uthai — laal aur peelay kagaz ki, bans ki kamarchi thodi si muri hui — aur unko deewar ke upar se wapas de di. Bachchon ne shukriya kaha aur daur gaye. Woh khaali haathon sehan mein khari rahi, aasmaan ki taraf dekhti hui, jab Zubair office se wapas aaya aur darwaze par ruka.
Zubair Imran ka chota bhai tha, 30 saal ka mard, lamba, halki si daadhi, aur woh apne marhoom bhai se bahut mukhtalif tha. Jahan Imran narm mizaj aur khamosh tha, wahan Zubair mein ek bechain si jurrat thi, ek aisi roshni jo aksar uski aankhon mein jalti thi jab woh Kishwar ko dekhta tha. Wo us din daftar se jaldi aa gaya tha, aur usne sehan mein khari bhabhi ko dekha — dupatta kandhe se dhalka hua, baal bandhe hue, aankhein aasmaan par — aur kuch lamhon tak woh bas darwaze par khara raha, usko dekhta raha, jaise dekhna hi us din ka sab se bada kaam ho.
“Bhabhi,” usne aahista kaha. “Kya dekh rahi hain?”
Kishwar chaunki, phir muskurayi — woh halki muskurahat jo bewaon ke chehre par aadat ban jati hai, adaegi se zyada ek pardah. “Patang thi,” usne kaha. “Gir gayi. Wapas de di.” Usne apna dupatta theek kiya aur andar jane lagi, lekin Zubair ne uska rasta nahi roka, sirf itna kaha, “Aap aaj kuch udaas lag rahi hain.” Aur woh sach tha, lekin Kishwar ne us baat ko hawa mein ura diya jaise patang ka tuta hua dhaga.
Ammi, yani Zarina, 70 saal ki khaatun, drawing room mein tasbih phira rahi thi. Unhone dono ko dekha — bahu andar aayi, chota beta darwaze par khara — aur unki purani aankhon mein kuch samajh aa gaya jo unhone zubaan par nahi aane diya. Is ghar mein, Imran ke inteqal ke baad, cheezein waise hi chal rahi thin jaise pehle chalti thin, bas ek kursi khaali rehti thi dastarkhwan par, aur Kishwar raat ko apne kamre ka darwaza band kar leti thi aur subah jaldi uth kar sab se pehle kaam par lag jati thi, jaise neend se bhagna ho.
Raat ke khane par, khamoshi thi. Zarina ne daal ka shorba parosa, Zubair ne roti tori, Kishwar ne sabzi apni plate mein daali. “Zubair,” Zarina ne kaha, “tumhari khala ka phone aaya tha. Larkay walon ka phir zikr kiya unhon ne.” Zubair ne sar jhuka liya. “Ammi, abhi nahi,” usne kaha, aur uski nazar ek lamhe ke liye Kishwar par thehri. Kishwar ne apni nazrein plate mein garray rakhin. Zarina ne tasbih rok kar dono ko dekha, phir dheere se kaha, “Beta, waqt kisi ka intezar nahi karta.” Aur phir khamoshi wapas aa gayi, sirf chamchon ki khanak aur pankhe ki sarsarahat.
Khaana khatm hua. Kishwar bartan uthane lagi to Zubair ne uske haath se thali le li. “Aap thak gayi hongi,” usne kaha. Unki ungliyan ek lamhe ke liye mili, aur Kishwar ne jhat se apna haath kheench liya, jaise bijli chhoo gayi ho. “Shukriya,” usne jaldi se kaha, aur kitchen ki taraf barh gayi. Zubair darwaze par khara use dekhta raha, aur uske chehre par wohi purani takleef thi jo woh mahino se chhupata aa raha tha.
Woh takleef nayi nahi thi. Imran ke janaaze ke kuch mahine baad se hi Zubair ke dil mein Kishwar ke liye kuch badalne laga tha. Pehle woh sirf hamdardi thi — bhabhi akeli hain, unka khayal rakhna hai, bhai ki amanat hain. Phir woh hamdardi ehtram mein badli, phir ehtram kisi gehri chahat mein, aur ab woh chahat ek aisi aag thi jo uske seene mein din raat jalti thi. Usne khud se hazaar baar kaha tha ke yeh ghalat hai, ke bhabhi uske marhoom bhai ki bewa hain, ke samaaj kya kahega, ke ammi kya sochegi. Lekin dil ne kab kisi ki suni hai.
Us raat, apne kamre mein, Zubair ne diary nikali aur likha: “Aaj bhabhi sehan mein khari thi. Aasmaan dekh rahi thi. Main darwaze par khara tha aur mujhe laga ke agar main us waqt unke paas jata, unka haath pakar leta, to shayad woh mujhe dhakka de detin, ya shayad… shayad nahi detin.” Usne qalam rok diya, phir likha, “Main unse mohabbat karta hun. Allah mujhe maaf kare, main apne bhai ki bewa se mohabbat karta hun.” Aur phir usne diary band kar di aur takiye mein munh chhupa kar leta raha, neend us se door thi.Agli subah, Kishwar jaldi uth gayi. Usne nashta banaya, Zarina ki dawa ka waqt yaad dilaya, kapre dhoye, ghar saaf kiya. Jab Zubair daftar jane laga, to usne darwaze par use roka. “Bhabhi,” usne kaha, thoda jhijhakte hue, “aaj shaam ko jaldi aa jaunga. Aap ke saath chai piyunga. Bohat din ho gaye aap se dil ki baat kiye.” Kishwar ne use dekha, aur uski aankhon mein kuch aisa tha jo usne pehle kabhi itna wazeh nahi dekha tha — ek iltija, ek intezar. “Theek hai,” usne dheere se kaha. “Aa jaiyega.”
Din guzra. Kishwar kaam karti rahi, lekin uska dil bechain tha. Zubair ke lafzon mein kuch tha jo usko pareshan kar raha tha. Woh janti thi — haan, woh janti thi, aurton ko aisi cheezein mehsoos ho jati hain — ke Zubair usko sirf bhabhi ki nazar se nahi dekhta. Mahino se usne yeh mehsoos kiya tha, aur mahino se usne is ehsaas ko dabaye rakha tha, khud ko samjhaya tha ke woh ghalat samajh rahi hai, ke woh sirf izzat karta hai. Lekin ab woh chhupana mushkil ho raha tha. Aur sab se darawni baat yeh thi ke uske apne dil mein bhi kuch hil raha tha, kuch jo usko sharminda karta tha, kuch jo usko Imran ki yaad dilate hue bhi Imran se door le jata tha.
Shaam ko Zubair waqt par aa gaya. Dono chhat par chai le kar baithe. Aasmaan narangi aur gulaabi tha, Karachi ki sham ka wohi purana jadoo. Kuch der khamoshi rahi, phir Zubair ne kaha, “Bhabhi, aap khush hain?” Kishwar ne use hairat se dekha. “Yeh kaisa sawal hai?” “Seedha sawal hai,” Zubair ne kaha, uski awaaz mein ek ajeeb si himmat thi. “Aap khush hain? Is ghar mein, is zindagi mein?” Kishwar ne chai ka cup neeche rakha. “Khushi…” usne dheere se kaha, “khushi to Imran ke saath chali gayi, Zubair. Ab to bas guzara hai.” “Guzara,” Zubair ne dohraya, “aur guzare ke liye aap ne apni poori zindagi qurban kar di hai. Aap abhi jawan hain, bhabhi. Aap ki umar hi kya hai?” Woh ruka, phir dheere se kaha, “Aap ko phir se jeene ka haq hai.”
Kishwar ka chehra sakht ho gaya. “Zubair,” usne kaha, uski awaaz mein tanbeeh thi, “tum kya kehna chahte ho?” Zubair ne uski aankhon mein dekha, aur us lamhe mein usne woh faisla kiya jo woh mahino se talta aa raha tha. “Main yeh kehna chahta hun ke main aap se mohabbat karta hun,” usne kaha, saaf aur wazeh. “Bhai ki tarah nahi. Devar ki tarah nahi. Ek mard ki tarah, ek aurat se. Main aap se shadi karna chahta hun.”
Khamoshi itni gehri thi ke door se aati hui azan ki awaaz bhi tez lag rahi thi. Kishwar ka chehra pehle surkh hua, phir safed. Woh khari ho gayi, cup kampne laga uske haathon mein. “Tum pagal ho gaye ho,” usne kaha, uski awaaz kaanp rahi thi. “Tum jaante ho tum kya keh rahe ho? Main tumhare bhai ki bewa hun. Tumhari bhabhi hun. Ammi kya kahengi? Log kya kahenge? Rishtedar kya kahenge?” “Mujhe parwah nahi,” Zubair ne kaha, woh bhi khara ho gaya. “Mujhe sirf aap ki parwah hai.” “To tumhe meri parwah hai to meri izzat ka khayal karo,” Kishwar ne tez awaaz mein kaha, aansu uski aankhon mein aa gaye. “Yeh baat phir kabhi zubaan par mat lana. Samjhe tum?” Aur woh seedhiyon ki taraf daur gayi, chai ke cup chhat par chore, aur neeche apne kamre mein ja kar darwaza band kar liya.
Zubair chhat par akela khara raha. Usne dono cup uthaye, neeche le aaya, aur apne kamre mein chala gaya. Us raat usne diary mein likha: “Usne inkar kar diya. Lekin uski aankhon mein aansu thay, gussa nahi. Main haar nahi manunga. Woh meri hai, aur main uska hun — bas use yeh samajhne mein waqt lagega.”
Agli subah se ghar ka mahaul badal gaya. Kishwar Zubair se nazrein churane lagi. Nashtay par woh jaldi uth jati, khaane par der se aati. Zubair ne is tabdeeli ko mehsoos kiya lekin usne peecha nahi chora. Woh roz uske liye choti choti cheezein karne laga — uski pasand ki mithai le aata, uske liye akhbaar mein uske kaam ki khabrein nikaal kar rakhta, jab woh thaki hoti to bina kahe uske kaam mein haath batata. Ek din usne dekha ke Kishwar ki chappal toot gayi hai, to agle din nayi chappal le aaya. Kishwar ne inkar karna chaha, lekin Zubair ne kaha, “Bhabhi, yeh to devar ka farz hai.” Aur uski muskurahat mein kuch aisa tha jo Kishwar ke dil ko chhoo gaya, chahe woh chahye ya na chahye.
Zarina sab dekh rahi thi. Ek din unhone Kishwar ko akele mein bulaya. “Beti,” unhone kaha, “main buddhi hun, lekin andhi nahi. Zubair tumhe chahta hai.” Kishwar ka chehra surkh ho gaya. “Ammi, aap… aap ghalat samajh rahi hain.” Zarina ne uska haath pakra. “Main kuch ghalat nahi samajh rahi. Aur suno — main tumhe dosh nahi de rahi. Tum jawan ho, tumhara haq hai. Lekin soch samajh kar faisla karna. Imran ki rooh ko takleef na pahunche, aur is ghar ki izzat bhi qaim rahe.” Kishwar ki aankhon mein aansu aa gaye. “Ammi, main Imran se bewafai nahi kar sakti.” “Bewafai?” Zarina ne dheere se kaha. “Beti, jeena bewafai nahi hota. Imran tumhe khush dekhna chahta tha, udaas nahi.” Aur woh apni tasbih lekar chali gayin, Kishwar ko uske khayalon ke saath akela chor kar.
Us raat Kishwar so na saki. Woh Imran ki tasveer ke samne khari rahi, jo uske kamre ki deewar par lagi thi. “Imran,” usne sargoshi mein kaha, “kya main ghalat hun? Kya mere dil mein jo ho raha hai, woh gunah hai?” Tasveer khamosh thi, lekin uski aankhon mein Imran ki wohi purani narmi thi jo use hamesha sukoon deti thi. Aur us lamhe, Kishwar ne almari ka woh khana khola jo teen saal se band tha — Imran ki cheezon wala khana. Usmein uski ghari thi, uska wallet, kuch purane khat, aur ek band lifafa — muhar laga hua, us par Imran ke haathon mein likha tha: “Kishwar ke naam — mere jaane ke baad kholna.”
Kishwar ke haath kaanpne lage. Usne lifafa uthaya, use ulat palat kar dekha. Teen saal se yeh lifafa uski almari mein para tha aur usne kabhi kholne ki himmat nahi ki thi. Aaj, is raat, Zubair ke iqraar ke baad, ammi ki baaton ke baad, usne mehsoos kiya ke ab waqt aa gaya hai. Usne muhar tori aur khat nikala. Imran ki likhai thi, thartharati hui, jaise bimaari ke aakhri dino mein likhi gayi ho.
Khat mein likha tha ke Imran ko apni bimaari ka andaza ho gaya tha, ke woh janta tha ke uske din gine hue hain. Usne likha tha ke woh Kishwar se beinteha mohabbat karta hai, aur isi mohabbat ki wajah se woh us se ek aakhri guzarish karta hai — ke woh apni zindagi ko uski yaad mein qaid na kare, ke woh phir se jiye, phir se khush ho, aur agar use koi munasib saathi mile to shadi kar le. Aur phir woh satar aayi jisne Kishwar ke aansu rok diye aur phir behne diye: “Agar meri maa aur mera bhai raazi hon, aur tumhara dil bhi raazi ho, to Zubair se behtar tumhare liye koi nahi. Woh tumhe chahta hai — maine uski aankhon mein dekha hai. Aur main janta hun ke tum bhi use nafrat nahi karti. Mujhe maaf kar dena ke main yeh keh raha hun, lekin meri sab se bari khwahish hai ke tum khush raho, chahe mere saath ya mere baghair.”
Khat khatm hua, lekin Kishwar ki duniya hil gayi thi. Woh khat ko seene se lagaye farsh par baith gayi aur der tak roti rahi — Imran ke liye, apne liye, aur us ajeeb si rahat ke liye jo uske dil mein utar rahi thi. Imran ne use azaad kar diya tha. Usne use ijazat de di thi. Aur sab se hairat ki baat — usne Zubair ka naam liya tha.Subah ko Kishwar ne khat ko teh kar ke apne dupatte mein chhupaya aur neeche aayi. Uska chehra aaj mukhtalif tha — aankhein sooji hui thin, lekin unmein koi nayi roshni thi. Zubair ne use dekha aur uska dil zor se dharakne laga. Nashtay ke baad, jab Zarina apne kamre mein gayin, to Kishwar ne Zubair ko sehan mein bulaya.
“Zubair,” usne kaha, uski awaaz naram thi lekin mazboot. “Tum ne us din jo kaha tha, main ne us par bohat socha hai.” Zubair ki saansein ruk gayin. “Aur?” “Aur main tumhe ek baat batana chahti hun,” Kishwar ne kaha, aur usne dupatte se woh khat nikala. “Yeh Imran ka khat hai. Usne apne jaane se pehle likha tha. Usne mujhe azaad kar diya hai, Zubair. Usne kaha hai ke main phir se jiyun.” Usne khat Zubair ko diya. Zubair ne khat parha, aur uski aankhon mein aansu aa gaye. “Bhai…” usne sargoshi mein kaha. “Bhai ne…”
“Haan,” Kishwar ne kaha. “Lekin suno, Zubair. Imran ke kehne se main tumse shadi nahi karungi. Main tumse shadi karungi to sirf is liye ke mera dil chahta hai. Aur mera dil abhi faisla nahi kar paya hai. Mujhe waqt chahiye. Tumhe mera peecha karna hoga, mujhe manana hoga, mujhe jeetna hoga. Main aasan nahi hun, samjhe?” Zubair ke chehre par woh muskurahat aayi jo mahino se uske chehre par nahi aayi thi. “Main taiyar hun,” usne kaha. “Jitna waqt chahiye, le lo. Main kahin nahi ja raha.”
Us din ke baad kuch badal gaya. Kishwar ne Zubair ko rokna band kar diya, aur Zubair ne use manana shuru kar diya — dheere dheere, izzat ke saath, sabr ke saath. Woh uske liye phool lata, uske saath chhat par baith kar purani yaadein taza karta, usko hansata. Aur Kishwar, dheere dheere, pighalne lagi. Woh ab us se nazrein nahi churati thi. Kabhi kabhi, jab woh use dekhti, to uski aankhon mein wohi narmi hoti jo kabhi Imran ke liye thi — lekin yeh nayi thi, tazi thi, aur ismein koi gunah ka ehsaas nahi tha, sirf ek ajeeb si khushi.
Ek shaam, barish hone lagi. Karachi ki pehli barish, mitti ki khushbu ke saath. Kishwar chhat par kapre utarne gayi thi jab barish tez ho gayi. Woh bheegne lagi, aur hansne lagi — kitne arse baad woh aise hansi thi. Zubair ne use chhat par dekha aur upar daur aaya. “Bhabhi, bheeg jayengi,” usne kaha, lekin woh khud bhi bheeg raha tha. “To bheegne do,” Kishwar ne kaha, uski aankhein chamak rahi thin. “Aaj dil chahta hai.” Aur phir, barish mein, unke darmiyan woh deewar giri jo mahino se khari thi. Zubair ne aahista se uska haath pakra. Kishwar ne apna haath nahi chhuraya. Dono barish mein kharay rahe, haath mein haath, aur aasmaan se paani barasta raha, jaise qudrat khud unke faisle par muhar laga rahi ho.
“Aao,” Zubair ne kaha, “andar chalte hain. Sardi lag jayegi.” Neeche, Kishwar ke kamre mein, dono ne tauliye se apne baal sukhae. Kamra chota tha, hawa mein barish ki khushbu thi, aur unke kapre geelay thay, jism se chipke hue. Zubair ne Kishwar ko dekha — uska dupatta bheega hua, uske baal khule, uski aankhein naram — aur uske andar woh aag bharak uthi jo woh itne arse se dabaye hue tha. “Kishwar,” usne kaha — pehli baar usne use naam se pukara, bhabhi nahi. Kishwar ne use dekha, aur us lamhe mein usne woh faisla kiya jiska use mahino se intezar tha. Usne sar hila diya — haan mein.
Zubair ne aahista se uske chehre ko apne haathon mein liya. Uske honth Kishwar ke maathe par aaye, phir uski aankhon par, phir uske gaalon par — har bosa ek wada tha, har chhuan ek iltija. Kishwar ki saansein tez hone lagin. Usne apni aankhein band kar lin aur Zubair ke seenay se lag gayi, uske dil ki dharakan sunti hui. “Daro mat,” Zubair ne sargoshi mein kaha. “Main hun.” Aur Kishwar ne apne aap ko uske hawale kar diya — poori tarah, bina kisi jhijhak ke, bina kisi sharmindagi ke.
Usne Zubair ki qameez ke button khole, ek ek kar ke, aur uske seenay par apna haath phera — garam, mazboot, dharakta hua. Zubair ne uske dupatte ko uske kandhon se sarka diya, aur uske baalon mein ungliyan daal din. Unke honth mile, pehle aahista, phir tez, phir ek aise junoon ke saath jo dono ko hairaan kar gaya. Kishwar ne mehsoos kiya ke uska jism jaag raha hai, teen saal ki neend se jaag raha hai, aur har rag mein khoon daur raha hai. Zubair ke haath uski kamar par aaye, usko apne qareeb kheecha, aur usne mehsoos kiya ke uska mardana josh uske khilaf dab raha hai, sakht aur bechain.
“Ruko,” Kishwar ne sargoshi mein kaha, lekin uski awaaz mein inkar nahi tha, sirf ek guzarish thi ke sab aahista ho. Zubair ruk gaya, uski aankhon mein sawal tha. “Main chahti hun,” Kishwar ne kaha, uski aankhein uski aankhon mein thin, “lekin aahista. Mujhe mehsoos karna hai, har lamha.” Zubair ne sar hila diya, aur usne apne honthon ko uski gardan par rakha, wahan chuma jahan uski nabz dharak rahi thi. Kishwar ne ek gehri saans li, uska jism kaanpne laga. Uske haath Zubair ke baalon mein thay, usko apne aur qareeb kheench rahe thay.Zubair ne uski qameez ko upar sarka diya, aur uske nange pait par apne honth rakhe. Kishwar ne apna sar peeche jhuka diya, ek halki si karah uske honthon se nikli. Uske seenay ubhar rahe thay, uski chhatiyan uske blouse ke andar qaid thin, aur Zubair ne apne haathon se unko aahista se dabana shuru kiya — pehle kapron ke upar se, phir usne blouse ke hook khole aur uske nange seenay ko apne haathon mein le liya. Kishwar ki chhatiyan naram thin, garam thin, aur unke nok sakht ho gaye thay. Zubair ne ek nok ko apne munh mein le liya, use choosa, use kaata — halka sa, pyaar se — aur Kishwar ne zor se saans li, uski ungliyan Zubair ke baalon mein jakar gayin.
“Mujhe dekho,” Zubair ne kaha, aur Kishwar ne apni aankhein kholin. Unki nazrein mili, aur us lamhe mein dono ne ek dusre ke andar wohi aag dekhi. Zubair ne uski shalwar ka naara khola, use neeche sarka diya, aur Kishwar uske samne khari thi — sirf uske jism ki sharam aur uski chahat ke saath. Zubair ne use bistar par litaya, aur khud uske upar aaya. Usne apni shalwar utari, aur uska lund sakht tha, lamba tha, aur Kishwar ne use dekha aur uski aankhon mein koi dar nahi tha, sirf khwahish thi.
Usne apne haath se use pakra — garam, sakht, dharakta hua — aur use apni taraf kheench liya. Zubair ne apne honthon ko uske honthon par rakha, aur dheere dheere, bohat aahista, woh uske andar dakhil hua. Kishwar ne ek tez saans li — dard nahi tha, sirf bharav tha, sirf woh ehsaas jo teen saal se uske jism ne nahi kiya tha. “Aaah,” uske honthon se nikla, aur Zubair ruk gaya. “Theek ho?” usne pucha. Kishwar ne sar hila diya. “Aage barho,” usne kaha. “Mujhe poora mehsoos karna hai.”
Zubair ne aahista aahista dhakke lagane shuru kiye — gehray, naram, har dhakke ke saath Kishwar ke jism mein lehrein daurti gayin. Usne apni taangein uski kamar ke gird lapet lin, usko apne aur andar kheenchti hui. Unke jism paseenay se bheeg gaye thay, unki saansein ek ho gayi thin. Zubair ne apna munh uski gardan mein chhupa diya, usko choomta hua, usko kaat-ta hua, aur Kishwar ne uski peeth par apne nakhun gaar diye — halka sa dard, jo maza ko aur barha gaya.
“Zor se,” Kishwar ne sargoshi mein kaha, uski awaaz mein ek nayi jurrat thi. “Mujhe zor se chaho.” Aur Zubair ne apni raftaar barha di. Uska lund uske andar aage peeche ho raha tha, har dhakka gehra tha, har dhakka usko us manzil ke qareeb le ja raha tha jahan woh teen saal se nahi gayi thi. Kishwar ki karahen tez hone lagin, uska jism kaanpne laga, aur phir — ek tez lehar, ek bijli si — woh chhoot gayi. Usne zor se Zubair ka naam liya, uska jism uske gird jakar gaya, aur uske andar ki garmi ne Zubair ko bhi us had tak pahuncha diya. Woh bhi chhoota, uske andar, gehra, aur dono ek dusre ki baahon mein gir gaye, haanpte hue, paseenay mein bheegay hue, lekin ek dusre mein gum.
Kuch der woh waise hi lete rahe. Phir Kishwar ne apna sar Zubair ke seenay par rakha aur kaha, “Yeh ghalat to nahi, na?” Zubair ne uske baalon mein ungliyan pherin. “Imran ne khud kaha hai,” usne dheere se kaha. “Aur mera dil kehta hai ke yeh sab se sahi cheez hai jo maine kabhi ki hai.” Kishwar ne uski taraf dekha, aur uski aankhon mein aansu thay, lekin woh khushi ke aansu thay. “Main tumse mohabbat karti hun, Zubair,” usne kaha — pehli baar, saaf lafzon mein. “Main bhi tumse mohabbat karta hun,” Zubair ne jawab diya, “aur hamesha karunga.”
Us raat ke baad, unka rishta khul kar samne aa gaya. Zarina ne jab dono ko subah nashtay par ek dusre ko dekhte hue dekha, to unhone sirf muskuraya aur apni tasbih phirati rahin. Kuch din baad, Zubair ne ammi se baat ki. “Ammi,” usne kaha, “main Kishwar se shadi karna chahta hun.” Zarina ne use dekha, phir Kishwar ko dekha, jo darwaze par khari thi. “Imran ka khat parha hai maine,” Zarina ne kaha, aur dono hairan reh gaye. “Kishwar ne mujhe dikhaya tha. Usne mujhe bhi azaad kar diya hai, beta. Meri taraf se ijazat hai.” Aur unki aankhon mein aansu thay, lekin unke chehre par sukoon tha.
Shadi sadgi se hui — ghar par, kuch qareebi rishtedaron ke saath. Kishwar ne halke gulaabi rang ka jora pehna, aur Zubair ne use dekha to uski aankhein bhar aayin. Nikah ke baad, jab sab chale gaye, to dono chhat par gaye. Aasmaan mein patangein ur rahi thin — shaam ka waqt tha, bachche khush thay. Ek patang unki chhat ki taraf aayi, lehrati hui, aur Zubair ne use pakar liya. Usne patang Kishwar ko di. “Yeh tumhari hai,” usne kaha. “Iski dorr ab mere haath mein hai, aur main ise kabhi tootne nahi dunga.” Kishwar ne patang li, aur uski aankhon mein wohi roshni thi jo us din sehan mein thi jab patang giri thi — lekin ab woh roshni umeed ki thi, nayi shuruaat ki thi.
Raat ko, apne kamre mein — ab unke kamre mein — Zubair ne Kishwar ko apni baahon mein liya. Is baar koi jhijhak nahi thi, koi dar nahi tha. Woh dono ek dusre ke thay, poori tarah, khul kar. Zubair ne uske kapre utare, ek ek kar ke, aur uske nange jism ko dekha — chaandni mein chamakta hua, naram, khubsurat. Usne uske honthon ko chooma, phir uski gardan ko, phir uske seenay ko, har jagah apne pyaar ki muhar lagata hua. Kishwar ne uske jism ko apne haathon se naapa — uske kandhe, uski peeth, uski kamar — aur jab usne uske lund ko pakra, to woh pehle se sakht tha, uski khwahish mein bechain.
Is baar Kishwar ne pehal ki. Usne Zubair ko bistar par litaya aur uske upar aayi. Usne apne jism ko uske jism par rakha, uske honthon ko chooma, aur phir dheere dheere neeche sarki — uski gardan, uska seena, uska pait — har jagah apne honth lagati hui. Jab woh uske lund tak pahunchi, to usne use apne haathon mein liya aur apne honthon se usko chooma. Zubair ne ek gehri saans li, uska jism kaanpne laga. Kishwar ne use apne munh mein liya — aahista, pyaar se, usko choosti hui — aur Zubair ne uske baalon mein apne haath daal diye. “Bas,” usne kaha, uski awaaz bhari hui thi, “aur main chhoot jaunga.” Kishwar ne use chora, aur uski aankhon mein shararat thi. “Abhi nahi,” usne kaha. “Abhi to shuruaat hai.”
Woh uske upar aayi, aur usne uske lund ko apne andar liya — dheere dheere, apni marzi se, apni raftaar se. Dono ne ek saath saans li jab woh poora uske andar tha. Phir Kishwar ne hilna shuru kiya — upar neeche, aage peeche — aur Zubair ne uski kamar pakar li, usko sahara deta hua, uske saath hilta hua. Unke jism ek ho gaye thay, unki saansein ek ho gayi thin. Kishwar ki chhatiyan uske chehre ke samne hil rahi thin, aur Zubair ne unko apne munh mein le liya, unko choosta hua, jabke Kishwar uske upar sawari karti rahi.
Phir Zubair ne use palat diya, aur woh uske upar aa gaya. Usne uski taangein apne kandhon par rakhin, aur gehre dhakke lagane laga — tez, taqatwar, har dhakka usko cheekhne par majboor karta hua. Kishwar ki awazein kamre mein goonj rahi thin, uska jism bistar par uchhal raha tha. “Haan,” woh keh rahi thi, “haan, aise hi, ruko mat.” Aur Zubair nahi ruka. Usne use us had tak pahunchaya jahan uska jism tootne laga, jahan uski har rag mein aag daur rahi thi, aur phir woh chhooti — zor se, cheekhte hue, uska jism kaanpta hua. Aur uske chhoot-te hi Zubair bhi chhoota, uske andar, apna sab kuch usko de deta hua.
Woh dono paseenay mein bheegay, ek dusre ki baahon mein lete rahe. Bahar, aasmaan mein patangein ab bhi ur rahi thin, lekin unki patang — unki zindagi ki patang — ab mehfooz thi, mazboot haathon mein. Kishwar ne Zubair ke seenay par apna sar rakha aur sargoshi mein kaha, “Khat ke din khatm hue.” Zubair ne use aur zor se apne se lagaya. “Aur naye din shuru hue,” usne kaha. Aur dono so gaye, ek dusre ki baahon mein, ek nayi subah ka intezar karte hue.