Lifafa

Andar. Haveli ka baithak. Raat. Ek hi bulb jal raha hai, deewaron par saaye lambe hain.

Mez lakri ki thi — us qism ki lakri jo waqt ke saath halki nahin hoti, bhaari hoti jaati hai. Uske theek beech mein ek safed lifafa rakha tha, aur uske teen taraf teen aadmi baithe the jo ek doosre ko pandrah saal se nahin dekh rahe the.

Bahar barish shuru ho chuki thi. Haveli ki chhat par paani girne ki awaaz aisi thi jaise koi upar chal raha ho — aahista, bina jaldi ke, jaise ghar ka koi purana fard raat ko chakkar laga raha ho.

Sikandar

Kholo isay. Subah tak intezaar karne ka koi faida nahin.

Murtaza

Faida? Tumhein pandrah saal se faiday ke ilawa kuch samajh aaya hai?

Sikandar lifafay ki taraf haath barhata hai. Rukta hai. Haath wapas le leta hai.

Sab se chhota, Rehan, khirki ke paas khara tha. Usne palat kar nahin dekha. Uske liye is kamre ki har cheez ka ek naam tha aur har naam ke saath ek saal juda hua tha jisme wo yahan nahin tha.

Rehan

Dada Jaan ne mujhe aakhri baar jo kaha tha, wo yeh tha ke ghar ka darwaza kabhi band nahin hota — sirf log bahar reh jaate hain. Main aaj andar hoon. Toh ab lifafa kholne se pehle mujhe ek baat batao. Ammi ka kamra kis ne band karwaya tha?

Khamoshi. Barish tez ho jaati hai.

Murtaza ne chai ka cup uthaya jo kab ka thanda ho chuka tha, aur peeya — sirf isliye ke haath ko koi kaam chahiye tha. Sikandar ne apni ghari dekhi jo band thi. Aur lifafa mez par waise hi para raha, safed, saaf, aur khatarnaak.