Hospital ki deewaron par charhi safeed roshni ab Detective Josh ki aankhon mein chubhan paida kar rahi thi. Subah ki pehli kiran ne abhi shehar ko chhua hi tha ke Josh ko wo khabar mili jo wo pehly se hi expect kar raha tha.
Mark ja chuka tha.
Hospital ka kamra khali tha, bistar ki chadar par sirf chand silwaten baqi theen jo uski maujoodgi ki aakhri nishani thi. Josh ne ek gehri saans li aur apne sar par haath phera. Woh janta tha ke Mark ko rokna mushkil hai, magar itni jaldi? Yeh usne socha na tha.
Usne foran apna phone nikala aur Kabeer ka number dial kiya.
“Hello?” Dusri taraf se Kabeer ki awaaz aayi, jis mein abhi bhi neend ka khumar tha.
“Kabeer, Mark kahan hai?” Josh ne seedha sawal kiya. Uski awaaz mein sakhti thi.
Kabeer ek pal ke liye khamosh ho gaya. “Mujhe… mujhe nahi maloom, Detective. Woh to hospital mein tha na?”
“Tha!” Josh ne alfaaz par zor diya. “Magar ab wahan sirf khali bistar hai. Agar tum usay bacha na sake, to kam az kam usay kisi badi musibat mein phansne se to rok lo. Batao, woh kahan ja sakta hai?”
Kabeer ne thandi saans bhari. “Mera yaqeen karein, mujhe waqayi nahi pata ke woh is waqt kahan hai. Woh mujhse mile bina hi nikal gaya.”
Line kat gayi. Magar Kabeer ke chehre par ab neend ka nishaan tak na tha. Woh jhoot bol raha tha poora nahi, magar aadha zaroor. Woh yeh to nahi janta tha ke Mark is waqt kahan hai, magar woh yeh zaroor janta tha ke Mark ki manzil kya hogi.
Roger ka Island.
Woh jazeerah jahan maut ka raaj tha aur jahan Roger ne apne gunahon ki saltanat qaim kar rakhi thi. Kabeer ne tezi se apne kapre badle. Uske zehan mein ek hi baat ghum rahi thi: Agar Mark wahan akela gaya, to wapas nahi aayega.
Kabeer ne Josh ko dobara phone karne ya haqeeqat batane ki zaroorat mehsoos nahi ki. Usay laga ke agar police beech mein aayi to Roger hoshiyaar ho jayega aur Mark ki jaan ko khatra barh jayega.
Suraj ab poori tarah nikal chuka tha jab Kabeer ne apni purani boat ka engine start kiya. Samundar ki lehrein pur-sukoon theen, magar Kabeer ke dil mein ek tufan barpa tha. Usne compass par nazar dali aur rukh us simt kar diya jahan Roger ka island maut ke saaye ki tarah khara tha.
“Main tumhein kuch nahi hone doonga, Mark,” usne mutthi bheenchte hue khud se wada kiya.
Idhar, samundar ke darmiyan, hawa ka rukh ajeeb tha. Kabeer ko laga tha ke Mark us se aage hoga, shayad island ke qareeb pohanch chuka hoga. Magar haqeeqat is se mukhtalif thi.
Mark abhi island ki taraf nahi nikla tha.
Woh abhi shehar ke purane hisse mein ek purani dukaan ke peechay khara, apne hathyaar ko check kar raha tha. Uski aankhon mein ek ajeeb sa thahrao tha woh thahrao jo tufan se pehle aata hai. Woh janta tha ke Roger tak pohanchna aasaan nahi hai, is liye woh har kadam phook phook kar rakh raha tha.
Jab Kabeer apni kashti ko us island ke pur-asrar sahil se laga raha tha, woh is baat se be-khabar tha ke woh Mark ko bachane nahi, balkay khud maut ke mun mein dakhil ho raha hai.
Island par khamoshi thi, magar yeh khamoshi sukoon wali nahi thi. Yeh woh khamoshi thi jo kisi shikaari ke hamle se pehle hoti hai. Kabeer ne dabe paon jazeeray ki jhaariyon mein qadam rakha, yeh soche bina ke jis Mark ko woh dhoond raha hai, woh abhi wahan pohancha hi nahi.
Maut ka jaal bich chuka tha, magar shikaar badal gaya tha.
Raat ki thandak haddiyon tak saraiyat kar rahi thi. Zameen nami se bhari hui thi, jaise mitti khud bhi us bojh se dabi ho jo Mark ke dil par tha. Woh dheere dheere, bhari qadmon ke sath us qabar tak aya tha jahan mitti ab bhi narm thi.
“Hazel.”
Naam pathar par likha tha. Seedha. Saaf. Usne kapkapaate haath aagay barhaye aur apni ungliyon se us thande pathar par likhe naam ko chhua. Yeh lamha jaise usay yaqeen dila raha ho ke yeh koi bura khwab nahi, balkay ek aisi haqeeqat hai jis se woh kabhi farar nahi paa sakta.
Usne ek ‘White Lily’ qabar ke paas rakh di. Woh phool jo kabhi pakeezagi aur izzat ka nishaan tha, aaj uski mohabbat ka aakhri aur khamosh saboot ban chuka tha. Mark wahin ghutnon ke bal beth gya. Kuch dair tak sannaata raha. Na koi aansu gira, na koi siski sunayi di. Sirf saans thi, jo ek dushwar safar ke bojh ki tarah uske seene mein atak rahi thi.
“Tumhein pata hai…” uski awaaz itni dheemi thi ke shayad hawa ne bhi mushkil se suni ho, “main wapas aa gaya tha…”
Waqt jaise thahar gaya. Hawa ki sarsarahat ruk gayi aur maazi ke parde sarakne lage.
Shadi se ek din pehle ki raat thi. Hazel ki hansi abhi bhi Mark ke kaano mein shehed ghol rahi thi. Phone par uski aakhri baat wahi thi: “Kal milte hain, Mr. Groom…” Mark ke honton par ek mutmain muskurahat thi, phone band hua.
Agly hi lamhe ek unknown number se phone aya.
“Kaam hai,” dusri taraf se ek sakht awaaz aayi. “Abhi.”
Mark ka chehra sakht ho gaya. “Kal meri shadi hai.”
“Ya to aaj aao… ya kal kisi aur ka janaza uthao.”
Line kat gayi. Mark kuch dair khamosh khara raha, zahan mein kashmakash thi, magar zimmedari aur darr ne usay majboor kar diya. Usne aankhen band keen, ek gehri saans li aur andheron ki taraf nikal gaya.
Mission koi lamba nahi tha, magar woh khoon, woh goliyan aur woh cheekhain… sab khatam kar ke jab woh subah wapas lauta, to suraj ki pehli kiran ne uska istaqbal kiya. Magar us din ki roshni mein ek ajeeb sa manhoos saaya tha.
Ghar ka darwaza aadha khula tha. Mark ka dil aik pal k liye kisi anjanay darr se dharkana bhool gya. “Hazel?”
Koi jawab nahi. Usne darwaze ko dhakka diya to andar ek qabr jaisi khamoshi thi. Zameen par kuch toot kar bikhra tha… laal rang. Mark ke qadam dheeme ho gaye, waqt jaise uske dukh ka mazaq udane ke liye sust ho gaya ho. Phir uski nazar us safed libaas ke tukray par pari jo ab surkh ho chuka tha.
Aur wahan Hazel thi. Be-harkat aur Be-jaan.
“Hazel…” Awaaz nikli to sahi, magar halaq mein hi dum tod gayi. Woh uske paas ghutnon ke bal gir gaya aur uska sar apni goud mein uthaya. “Utho… dekho main aa gaya hoon!”
Uski baton ka jawab sirf khamoshi thi. Woh larki jo kabhi chup nahi rehti thi, aaj hamesha ke liye khamosh ho chuki thi. Mark ke andar us din kuch aisa toota jo phir kabhi nahi judna tha.
Hawa ke ek tez jhonke ne Mark ko wapas haal mein la khara kiya. Woh phir se us qabar ke samne tha. Ankhon mai ansu thy. “Main ne tumhein akela chhor diya tha… magar ab nahi. Is dafa nahi.”
Usi waqt, uska phone baja. Bechaini se bhari hui ringtone. Mark ne foran call receive ki. “Hello—”
“AAAHHH……..MARK……!”
Dusri taraf se Kabeer ki cheekh ne uske raungte kharay kar diye. “Mat……mat karo please—!” Ek zor ki cheekh aur phir kisi ke dum todne ki aakhri awaaz.
“KABEER! KABEER KAHAN HO?!” Mark cheekha, magar line dead ho chuki thi. Screen par sirf ‘Call Ended’ likha tha. Uske haath kaanpne lage. Abhi woh sambhal bhi na paya tha ke ek ke baad ek teen messages aaye.
Mark ne kaanpte angoothe se pehli tasveer kholi… aur uski duniya dobara reza reza ho gayi.
Kabeer. Uska bhai, uska sab se aziz dost. Ek rassi se latka hua, khoon se lathpath. Us ki aadhi khuli aankhen jaise Mark se puch rahi thi, “Tum kahan thay?”
“NAHI…!” Mark ki ek dahshat-naak cheekh khamosh qabristan mein goonji. Woh zameen par gir gaya. “Main tumhare paas nahi tha… main phir der kar gaya!”
Subha ki roshni mark k chehry par pari. Kaali raat guzar gai. Mark ab bhi wahin baitha tha, magar ab uski aankhon mein aansu nahi thy bs andhera tha. Woh dheere se khara hua aur qabar par rakhi us White Lily ko dekha or bina palte pechy ki taraf chal para.