Payal Ki Aawaaz

Hamid ko haveli ki zaroorat thi — naukri thi, khaana tha, sar pe chhath thi. Itna kaafi tha. Usne yeh baar baar apne aap ko bataya tha. Lucknow ki is purani nawabi ghar mein janitor-cum-caretaker tha woh — saaf safai, dawaakhana ka kaam, repairs. Begum Sahiba ki badi kothi thi — teen manzil, 12 kamre, ek bagicha, ek pool side jo saalon se nahi khula tha. Begum khud Hyderabad mein thi is season mein. Yahan unki beti Sahiba thi — jo art school se aayi thi painting seekhne ke liye chhuttiyon mein. Pehle hafte Hamid ne Sahiba ko do baar dekha tha — ek baar balcony pe ek baar corridor mein. Dono baar nazrein mili the aur Hamid ne nazar pehle hataayi thi. Dono baar. Naukri rehni chahiye thi. Payal ki aawaaz corridor mein aayi thi aur Hamid ne jaana tha — woh aa rahi thi. Us awaaz ne use bachpan ki ek yaad di — maa ki payal. Lekin yeh maa ki nahi thi.

Sahiba ne use poocha tha ek din — library ka darwaza nahi khul raha tha, lock purana tha. Hamid ne fix kiya. Sahiba ne paintings dikhaai — andar waali librarian se milke, dikhane ke liye nahi sirf, ek insaan se baat karne ke liye. Woh art school ki ladki thi, Lucknow ki nawabi zindagi se alag, lekin is ghar mein akeli thi. Hamid ne paintings dekhi — ek bahut khoobsoorat thi, andheri, ek aurat ki peehi ka sketch. 'Tumne banaayi?' 'Haan.' 'Kaafi alag hai.' 'Alag kaise?' 'Zyaadatar aise paintings mein chehra dikhate hain. Tumne nahi dikhaya.' Sahiba ne dekha. 'Kyunki jo cheez kehni thi woh chehra nahi, peehi tha.' Hamid ne samjha — yeh painting pyaar ke baad ka woh moment tha jab koi chal deta hai. Usne painting ko thoda zyada dekha aur khud ke andar kuch maan liya jo bolna galat tha.

Teen haftey woh dono kabhi kabhi library mein milte — Sahiba painting karti, Hamid kaam karta, dono kuch na kuch baat karte. Ek din Sahiba ne poocha Hamid ke dreams ke baare mein — 'Tum kya banana chahte the?' Hamid ne galat waqt pe sach bola — 'Photographer. Lekin camera affor nahi hua.' Sahiba ne kuch nahi bola — seedha uth ke andar gayi. 10 minute baad aayi — haath mein ek camera tha. 'Yeh mera college waala hai. Istaemaal karo. Return karna nahi hai.' Hamid ne na kaha. 'Kyon nahi lete?' 'Kyunki...' 'Kyunki kya, Hamid? Kyunki main begum sahiba ki beti hoon aur tum kaam pe ho? Yeh camere ki zyaadat hoti hai photography ki nahi.' Woh sach tha aur dard tha — dono saath. Hamid ne camera liya. Dono ne samjha tha ki kuch cross hua tha — ek invisible line, halki si.

Begum sahiba ek hafte pehle wapas aayi — unannounced. Hamid corridor mein tha jab Begum ne library ka darwaza andar se band sunaa. 'Yahan kya ho raha hai?' Hamid ne bataya library kaam tha. Sahiba andar thi. Begum ka chehra tight ho gaya — woh smile jo andar kuch aur thi. Raat ko Hamid ko bulaaya gaya. 'Tumhara kaam badhiya hai. Lekin kuch aur kaam nahi chalta yahan. Samajhe?' Hamid ne sir hilaya. 'Ek mahine ki salary advance deta hoon. Kal se doosri property pe shift ho jao.' Hamid samajh gaya. Us raat usne camera waapas rakha Sahiba ke kamre ke darwaze ke bahar — andar se awaaz aayi, footstep, aur door band hua. Payal nahi boli. Shayad koi sunta tha.

Hamid doosri property pe chala gaya — ek purana bungalow Gomti Nagar mein. Kaam same tha, jagah alag thi. Ek mahine baad ek camera dhaba delivery mein aaya — same model, naya, ek khat ke saath. Khat mein sirf teen line thi, Sahiba ki handwriting: 'Yeh meri taraf se nahi, ek insaan ki taraf se ek doosre insaan ke liye hai. Photography seekhna.' Hamid ne camera dekha. Phir rakh diya. Phir uthaya. Us raat Lucknow ki galion mein nikla — camera kandhe pe. Pehli photo li usne vo thi ek deewar pe chadhe bel ke phool ki — andheron mein, roshni ki ek lakeer mein. Woh photo usne kabhi publish nahi ki. Lekin hamesha rakhi — yeh yaad ki kuch cheezein dono tarf se khatam hoti hain aur dono taraf se kuch bachta bhi hai.