Urdu Seekhni Thi

Shubham ne Urdu tab seekhna shuru kiya jab abbu chale gaye. Abbu Urdu waale the — shayari padhte the, likhte the, kehte the ki Lucknow ki ruh Urdu mein hai. Shubham ne kabhi seriously nahi seekha tha. Ab seekhna tha — ek taraf ek zabaan seekhna tha, ek taraf unse ek rishta rakhna tha jo fizikli nahi raha..

Ustaadji 65 saal ke the — purani haveli mein padhate the, seekhne waale sirf 3 the. Woh Urdu sirf script nahi sikhate the — woh kehana sikhate the. 'Yeh word sirf word nahi — iske peeche 300 saal hai.' Shubham ne teen mahine mein itna seekha tha jitna school ke Hindi mein nahi seekha. Aur kabhi kabhi ek word mein abbu ki ek cheez yaad aati thi — koi phrase, koi shair jo woh kehte the.

6 mahine mein Shubham ne ek chhoti shayari likhi — Urdu mein, abbu ke liye. Ustaadji ne padhi. Ek baar. Phir ek baar. 'Yeh maa-bap se seekha hua kuch hai isme.' Shubham ki aankhen bhatki. 'Haan. Seedhe nahi seekha tha unse. Lekin kuch tha — andar — jo tha.' Zabaan seekhna sirf communication nahi hoti — kabhi kabhi woh ghar banana hoti hai jab insaan chal jaata hai.

Us raat ke baad Shubham ne samjha ki jo kuch hua tha woh ek single scene nahi tha, balki uski poori zindagi ke andar dheere dheere chalne waali ek lambi process thi. Lucknow, old neighbourhood ka mahaul bhi jaise uske saath milke badal raha tha. Pehle jo cheezein sirf background lagti thi, ab wahi details meaningful lagne lagi: subah ki awaaz, chai ka cup, kisi purane fan ka halkasa ghoomna, raat ki thandi hawa, aur woh lamhe jab insaan apne aap se jhoot bolna band karta hai. Shubham Urdu seekhna shuru karta hai baad mein abbu ki yaad mein. Is process mein kuch aur bhi seekh jaata hai. yeh bas ek line ki baat nahi thi. Iske andar guilt bhi tha, relief bhi, aur woh ajeeb si umeed bhi thi jo tab paida hoti hai jab tum samajhte ho ki dard ke baad bhi zindagi rukti nahi. Shubham ne pehli baar consciously yeh mehsoos kiya ki heritage, grief, language jaise lafz dictionary mein simple lagte hain, lekin real life mein unka rang roz badalta rehta hai. Isi change ko accept karna hi shayad growing up tha.

Agla hissa sabse mushkil tha, kyunki real test conversation ke baad shuru hota hai. Agar Ustadji saamne tha, toh uski aankhon mein bhi wahi sawal tha jo Shubham ke andar chal raha tha: ab kaise? Kaise normal raha jaata hai jab normal ka matlab hi thoda badal chuka ho? Lekin dheere dheere dono ne seekha ki har cheez ka dramatic answer zaroori nahi hota. Kabhi kabhi relationship ya memory ya self-respect sirf itne se rebuild hota hai ki tum roz subah uthkar ek chhota sa honest step lo. Ek text ka sahi reply. Ek cup chai ke dauraan bina guard ke baithna. Ek baar yeh maan lena ki haan, jo mehsoos ho raha hai woh sach hai aur use feel karne mein sharm ki koi baat nahi. Shubham ko laga tha ki clarity ekdum milegi, lekin clarity tukdo mein aayi. Thoda uski apni himmat se, thoda waqt se, thoda un logon se jo bina noise ke saath khade rahe.

Kuch hafton baad jab Shubham ne peeche mudkar dekha, toh jo sabse zyada yaad raha woh koi bada dramatic dialogue nahi tha. Yaad yeh raha ki ek waqt tha jab sab kuch impossible lag raha tha, aur phir bina shor ke wahi zindagi aage chalti rahi. Isi continuity mein ek ajeeb si meherbani hoti hai. Lucknow, old neighbourhood ab pehle jaisa nahi lagta tha, kyunki jagah tab badal jaati hai jab us jagah mein tumhara andar badal chuka ho. Shubham ne us experience ko kisi grand lesson mein convert nahi kiya. Bas itna samjha ki insaan tootne aur judne ke beech hi apni asli awaaz dhundhta hai. Aur jab woh awaaz mil jaati hai, chahe halki si hi kyon na ho, tab duniya utni khaufnaak nahi rehti. Shayad isi liye kuch kahaniyan khatam nahi hoti; woh sirf ek naye sur mein chalti rehti hain.