“Agar tu saath nahi aayega, to main abhi nikalta hoon.” Yash ne zipper khincha, lekin bag band nahi kiya. Woh darwaze ke paas khada tha, meri taraf dekh raha tha, jaise ek aakhri jawaab maang raha ho.
Main sofa ke kinare baitha raha. Guwahati ki dhoop khidki se kaati hui pad rahi thi. Hum dono adult mard the, mahino se boyfriend, lekin aaj ka jhagda adhoora tha. Uske gharwale Assam se Delhi nahi, balki yahin Brahmaputra ke kinare ek chhote ghar mein milna chahte the, aur main darta tha ki poore Hindustan ke rishtedaar meri baat sunenge.
“Tu jaana chahta hai, main rok nahi raha,” maine kaha. “Lekin yeh baat adhoori chhodkar mat ja.”
Yash ne bag ka handle chhoda. “To ruk, ya nikal. Seedha bol.”
Maine uthkar uska haath pakda. “Ruk. Aaj nahi jaunga main bhi, tu bhi mat ja. Pehle yeh khatam kar.”
Usne meri ungliyon ko dabaya, phir chhod diya, lekin kadam peeche kiye. Woh raha. Us faisle se hi kamra badal gaya. Koi lock, koi bahana nahi tha. Sirf do mard, jo ek doosre ke saamne the.
Rukne ke baad jo shuru hua
Yash ne meri shirt ke button khole, dheere, jaise ab bhi gussa baaki ho. Main uski aankhen dekh raha tha. Unmein thakaan thi, lekin inkaar nahi.
“Agar tu chahe to yahin ruk,” usne kaha. “Nahi to main bag uthata hoon.”
Maine uske honth chhue. “Chahta hoon. Abhi.”
Woh muskuraaya, chhota sa, phir mujhe deewar se sata diya. Hum dono ke kapde jaldi utre, lekin bina bheed ke. Meri jeans ghutnon tak atki, uski belt floor par giri. Usne mera lund haath mein liya, garam, tight, aur maine uski kamar pakdi.
“Yahan, sofa par,” maine kaha.
Woh let gaya, peeth neeche, pair khule. Main uske beech baitha. Dono ki saansein tez ho gayi. Usne lotion ki tube side table se uthayi, jo pehle se wahan thi, koi naya device nahi. Thodi si cream ungliyon par li, phir apni body ke peeche lagayi, khud, meri nazar mein.
“Ab aa,” usne kaha.
Maine condom nikaala, pehna, aur dheere andar gaya. Woh khich gaya, phir chhod diya. Main ruk kar uska chehra dekha. Usne sir hilaya. Main aur andar gaya, uski thighs meri kamar ke dono taraf bandh gayi.
Pehle dhakke lambe the. Woh meri gardan par saans chhodta raha. Main uske kandhon ko pakde hue tha. Kamra garm tha. Bahar cycle ki ghanti bajayi kisi ne, lekin darwaza band tha, hum andar the.
“Tez,” usne kaha, aur main tez kiya. Usne apna lund apne haath se masla, meri nazar ke saamne. Main jhuk kar uske honth chuma, phir uski gardan. Woh meri peeth par nakhun ghasitta raha, itna ki main aur gehra choda.
Hum palat gaye. Ab woh upar tha, meri god mein baitha, khud utarta utarta. Uske baal meri cheekh par gir rahe the. Main uski kamar pakde hue tha, usko neeche kheenchta. Har baar jab woh baithta, andar tak bhar jaata, aur dono ek saath saans lete.
“Farhan,” usne mera naam liya, geeli awaaz mein. Main uske seene par munh rakh kar choda, chhota chhota, phir lamba.
Woh meri thighs par haath rakh kar hilta raha. Main uske lund ko beech mein pakad kar ragadta raha, jab tak uski saans atak na gayi. Usne meri shirt, jo ab sirf ek kandhe par atki thi, aur khinchi.
Main usko neeche litaya, pair uthaye, aur seedha andar liya. Yeh baar aur gehra laga. Woh meri kalai pakad kar raha, jaise rukna nahi chahta. Main choda, choda, uski aankhen band ho gayi, munh khula raha.
“Aur… wahi…” usne kaha, aur main wahi raha, ek hi jagah, tez.
Woh jhad gaya, apne pet par, garam. Uske tight hone se main bhi nikal aaya, condom ke andar, kampte hue. Hum ek minute aise hi pade rahe, paseena milta hua.
Usne condom sambhala, phenka, phir meri chhati par sir rakh diya. Main uske baal sehlatta raha. Koi lambi baat nahi hui. Sirf saans.
Doosri saans ke baad
Thodi der baad woh uth kar bathroom gaya. Pani ki awaaz aayi. Main sofa par nanga tha, ceiling fan dheere ghoom raha tha. Guwahati ki shaam ab khidki ke kaanch par laal ho rahi thi. Main soch raha tha ki gharwale Hindustan ke is kone mein kya poochenge, lekin ab woh soch patli thi.
Yash toliye se nikal kar aaya, meri jeans uthayi, pheni, phir apni t-shirt. Usne mujhe ek glass paani diya. Main piya.
“Bag abhi bhi khula hai,” maine kaha.
Woh muskuraaya nahi. “Haan.”
Maine apni underwear pehni, shirt button kiye. Pairon mein abhi bhi kampan thi. Woh kitchen ki taraf gaya, kettle on kiya. Chai ki khushboo aayi, halki.
Main uske peeche khada hua. “Jo tune kaha tha, saath aane ka, woh ab bhi khada hai?”
Usne mug bhara. “Pehle dekh, tera bag.”
Woh bedroom nahi, entry ke kone ki taraf ishara kiya, jahan uska suitcase tha. Maine socha wahi adhoora jhagda wapas aa raha hai.
Jo bag ne bata diya
Maine suitcase ke paas jhuk kar dekha. Uske kapdon ke neeche mera chhota backpack tha, jo subah almirah mein pada tha. Zip half khuli thi. Andar meri black formal shirt, jo main shaadiyon par pehenta hoon, aur meri chhoti diary.
Yash mug le kar khada raha. “Subah, jab tu so raha tha, maine socha tu nahi aayega. Phir bhi pack kar diya. Agar tu rukta, to yeh saath jaata. Agar nahi, to main akela nikalta.”
Maine diary nikaali. Pehle page par usne mera naam likha tha, seedhi si line: Farhan, aaj ke baad chhupaana mat.
Woh jhagda ab alag lag raha tha. Maine zipper band kiya, backpack kandhe par daala, jaise abhi nikalna ho.
“Chai thandi ho jayegi,” usne kaha.
Maine mug nahi liya. “Pehle auto pakadte hain. Tere ghar se pehle bazaar se mithai.”
Usne kettle band kiya. Bag uthaya. Hum dono darwaze tak aaye, kapde theek, chehre abhi bhi garm. Neeche gali mein rickshaw ki awaaz thi. Main pehle nikalta, backpack tight karke, kyunki ab rukna us faisle ka hissa nahi tha jo maine sofa par kiya tha. Ab turant chalna tha, uske saath, us ghar ki taraf jahan do mardon ki yeh baat khulni thi.
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