Wo roz usi bus stop par khadi hoti thi.
Haath mein kitaab, aankhon mein intezaar —
shayad kisi ka, shayad khud ka.
Wo pehli baar us din usay dekha jab barish achanak shuru ho gayi.
Ladka chupchaap apni jacket utar kar uski taraf badha.
Na naam poocha, na sawal kiya.
Bas bola,
"Bheeg jaogi."
Usne jacket li…
aur pehli baar mehsoos kiya ke koi ajnabi bhi apna ho sakta hai.
Roz mulaqat hone lagi.
Bus aane se pehle thodi si baat,
bus jaane ke baad lambi si khamoshi.
Ek din ladki ne poocha,
"Tum roz yahin kyun aate ho?"
Ladka muskuraya,
"Kisi adhoore sapne ko poora karne."
Usne aur kuch nahi poocha.
Phir ek din…
wo nahi aaya.
Na agle din,
na uske baad.
Bus stop wahi tha,
barish bhi wahi thi,
par wo nahi.
Kayi mahine baad, usay ek letter mila—
koi naam nahi, bas kuch alfaaz:
"Kuch kahaniyaan milkar poori nahi hoti,
par dil mein reh kar zindagi bhar saath chalti hain.
Tum mera poora sapna thi…
aur main tumhara adhoora safar."
Us din usne kitaab band ki,
aur muskura kar kaha—
"Kuch mohabbat izhaar nahi maangti…
sirf mehsoos hona kaafi hota hai." 💫