दिल की चिट्ठियाँ

Almari saaf kar rahi thi — peechhe se ek purana tin ka dabba mila. Usme — 23 chitthiyan. Yellowed paper, faded ink, military postmarks. Dada ji ki chitthiyan — Dadi ko. 1965. Indo-Pak war ke dauraan. Pehli chitthi: "Priya Savitri, Yahan pahunchh gaya hoon. Jagah ka naam nahi bata sakta — censor sahab kaat denge. Bas itna jaano ki mitti peeli hai aur hawa garm. Tumhari yaad — usse bhi garm. Tum poochhi thi jaate waqt — 'Dar lagta hai?' Maine kaha tha — 'Nahi.' Jhooth tha. Dar lagta hai. Par tumse zyada dar lagta hai ki agar sach bola toh tum ro dogi. Aur tumhare aansu — woh kisi bhi goli se zyada takleef dete hain. Khana theek hai. Daal-chawal. Par tumhari daal ki baat alag hai — woh daal nahi, jadoo hai. Yahan ki daal mein namak kam hai. Ya shayad — tumhari daal mein pyaar zyada tha. Bachche kaise hain? Raju ko bolo homework kare. Aur Gudiya ko — uska gudda mujhe de diya karo — usne sahi kaha tha ki 'Papa ko bhi dost chahiye.' Main theek hoon. Sach mein. Is baar jhooth nahi bol raha. Tumhara, Ram Prasad" --- Satrahwi chitthi: "Savitri, Aaj bahut bura din tha. Zyada nahi likhunga — censor sahab ke alawa, mera mann bhi nahi hai. Bas itna — aaj ek saathi gaya. Naam — Baldev. Uski biwi ka naam bhi Savitri tha. Woh bhi chitthiyan likhta tha — roz. Uski aakhiri chitthi — adhuri thi. Maine poori ki. Bhej di. Kya likha usmein — woh tumhe nahi bataunga. Bas itna ki — 'Pyaar' likha. Kyunki aakhiri shabd — yehi hona chahiye. Savitri, agar kabhi meri bhi koi chitthi adhuri rahe — toh tum poora kar lena. Tumhe pata hai mera dil kya kehta hai. Hamesha se pata hai. Tumhara — hamesha, Ram Prasad" --- Teisvi — aakhiri chitthi: "Ghar aa raha hoon. 3 din mein. Station par mat aana — bheed hogi. Ghar par chai rakhna. Aur haan — Savitri — tumse ek baat kehni hai. Woh jo kabhi nahi kaha — shabd mein. Hamari generation nahi kehti. Par aaj keh raha hoon: Main tumse bahut pyaar karta hoon. Bahut. Itna ki 23 chitthiyan likh di — par yeh teen shabd pehli baar likh raha hoon. Ab jaldi aata hoon. Daal banana. Namak zyada dalna. Tumhara, Ram Prasad" --- Dadi is duniya mein nahi hain. Dada bhi nahi. Par yeh chitthiyan hain — 23. Aur har ek mein — woh pyaar hai jo aaj ke "❤️" emoji se hazaar guna gehri hai. Maine sab laminate karwa diye. Frame karwa diye. Drawing room mein lagaye. Kyunki kuch love stories — display honi chahiye.

Class 10. Board exams ka saal. Aur Sneha ne mujhe ek chit di — Maths class mein, teacher ka dhyan nahi tha tab. Chit kholi. Likha tha — "Tujhe meri handwriting pasand hai?" Random sawaal. Maine peeche likha — "Haan. Bahut neat hai." Agli chit — "Achha? Toh yeh padh." Aur neeche likha tha — lambi si line mein, sundar handwriting mein: "Tu mujhe achha lagta hai. Bahut. Class 7 se. Ab bol — tu pagal samjhega ya kuch bolega?" Mera chehra laal. Maths class mein. Teacher ne dekha — "Arjun, kya padh raha hai? Idhar la." Maine chit mutthi mein daboch li. "Kuch nahi sir. Rough work." "Rough work toh copy mein kar." "Ji sir." Sneha — do bench peeche — haath mein pen, muh mein muskaan, aankhon mein sawaal. Maine chit ko pocket mein rakha. Ghar gaya. Raat ko padhi — phir se. Phir se. Phir se. Reply? Himmat nahi hui. Ek din. Do din. Hafte beet gaye. Sneha ne doosri chit nahi di. Class mein dekhti thi — waiting expression. Maine nazar churai. Dar tha — bola toh sab badal jayega. Nahi bola toh bhi badal jayega. Board exams aaye. Padhai. Tension. Sneha alag section mein chali gayi — reshuffling. Results aaye. School khatam. Different colleges. Chit — woh pehli wali — aaj bhi mere paas hai. Wallet mein. 15 saal se. Paper pheeka pad gaya hai, fold marks gehre hain, par alfaaz — "Tu mujhe achha lagta hai" — aaj bhi waise hi hain. Pichle hafte — school reunion thi. 15 saal baad. Sneha aayi. Ab doctor hai. Shaadi ho chuki. Humne baat ki. Normally. Jaise purane classmates karte hain. Jaate waqt — usne kaha: "Woh chit... tune rakhi hai ya phenk di?" Silence. "Rakhi hai," maine kaha. Uski aankhon mein kuch chamka — 15 saal purana sawaal ka jawab. "Tab kyun nahi bola?" usne pucha. Dhimi awaaz. "Dar tha." "Kis baat ka?" "Ki bol diya toh yeh feeling khatam ho jayegi. Aur main chahta tha ki yeh feeling — hamesha rahe." Woh muskurayi. Udaas muskaan. "Pagal tha tu." "Hoon abhi bhi." Woh chali gayi. Main khada raha. Wallet mein chit — wahi. 15 saal ki crease ke saath. Kuch jawab — der se dene se — sawaal se bhi zyada dard dete hain.

Gmail. Drafts folder. 47 unsent emails. Sab — ek hi address par. ria.sharma@gmail.com. Draft 1 — Date: 14 Feb 2020 Subject: Happy Valentine's Day Body: "Hi Ria, yeh weird lagega par—" [draft ends here] Draft 7 — Date: 3 Apr 2020 Subject: Lockdown mein tujhe miss kar raha hoon Body: "Ria, office band hai, ghar par hoon, aur pata hai kya realize hua? Ki main office isliye jaata tha kyunki tujhe dekh sakta tha. Ab office nahi toh — tujhe kaise dekhun? Video call karun? Par reason kya dun? 'Boss ne nahi kaha par main tujhe dekhna chahta hoon?' Sounds creepy. Delete karta hoon." [draft ends] Draft 15 — Date: 19 Aug 2020 Subject: Tere birthday par Body: "Happy Birthday Ria! Yeh email tujhe nahi jayega — jaise pichle 14 nahi gaye. Par aaj tere liye ek cake order kiya — anonymously. Chocolate truffle. Tujhe pasand hai — tune ek baar canteen mein bola tha. Tujhe yaad nahi hoga. Mujhe hamesha yaad rahega." Draft 23 — Date: 1 Jan 2021 Subject: New Year Resolution Body: "Ria, is saal ka resolution: tujhe yeh emails bhejunga. Pakka. 100%. No excuses. Starting from... February. January mein time nahi hai." Draft 31 — Date: 14 Feb 2021 Subject: (no subject) Body: "Ek saal ho gaya. 30 drafts ho gaye. Main kitna bada kaayar hoon." Draft 40 — Date: 15 Sep 2021 Subject: Tujhe pata hai? Body: "Ria, aaj office mein tu mere paas aayi — printer fix karne. Teri ungliyan paper jam mein phansi thi aur tune kaha — 'Yaar Nikhil, tu tech mein hai na? Fix kar na.' Maine fix kiya. Paper jam — 2 minute mein. Par haath kaanp rahe the. Kyunki teri ungliyan — woh printer se zyada meri zindagi jam kar rahi hain. Yeh bhi nahi bhejunga." Draft 47 — Date: 14 Feb 2022 Subject: Ab bhej raha hoon — sach mein Body: "Ria, Mere Gmail drafts mein 46 unsent emails hain. Sab tere liye. Sab mein wohi baat hai jo main kabhi bol nahi paaya. Aaj bhej raha hoon — sab ke sab. 46 drafts + yeh wala = 47. Forward. Send. Agar yeh padhke tu hassi — it's okay. Agar yeh padhke tu uncomfortable hui — I'm sorry, main delete kar dunga. Agar yeh padhke tu kuch feel karti hai — toh coffee? Office ke neeche wale cafe mein? Kal? Tumhara draft-wala aashiq, Nikhil" [SENT — 14 Feb 2022, 11:59 PM] Reply — 15 Feb 2022, 8:03 AM: "Nikhil. 47 DRAFTS?! Tu pagal hai. Aur haan — coffee. Aaj. Abhi. Neeche aa." Neeche gaya. Woh khadi thi. Phone mein mere 46 drafts padh rahi thi. Aankhein bheegi. "Chocolate truffle cake?" usne pucha. "Woh TU tha?" "Main tha." "Kaayar." "Haan." "Par ab nahi." "Ab nahi." Coffee — pehli date. 47 drafts ki wajah se.

Date: Aaj, 2:37 AM To: Tum (Blue tick dene wali, par reply nahi karne wali) Subject: Yeh love letter hai — WhatsApp wala. Dear Riya, Pata hai kal kya hua? Office mein presentation de raha tha — Q3 revenue, growth metrics, blah blah — aur slide number 7 par mera dimag ruk gaya. Kyunki slide ka background color — exactly wohi shade of blue tha jo teri aankhon mein hota hai jab tu hanssti hai. Haan, main presentation mein teri aankhon ke bare mein soch raha tha. Professional? Bilkul nahi. Par honest? Bahut. Boss ne pucha — "Aditya, is slide par kuch add karna hai?" Maine kaha — "Nahi sir, yeh perfect hai." Woh slide ke baare mein tha. Main teri aankhon ke baare mein. --- Riya, tujhe pata hai tu meri zindagi mein kya hai? Tu woh bookmark hai jo main apni favourite book mein lagata hoon — jahan story sabse achhi hoti hai. Tu woh song hai jo shuffle par aata hai exactly jab zarurat hoti hai. Tu woh auto-save hai jo kaam bach jaata hai jab system crash ho. Geek analogies? Haan. Romantic? Shayad nahi. Par yahi main hoon. --- Tera last message tha — "Goodnight 🌙" — 11:47 PM. Maine reply kiya — "Goodnight ✨" — 11:48 PM. Par actually main 3 baje tak jaaga. Kyunki tera goodnight — woh signal hai ki ab baat khatam. Aur baat khatam hona — din ka sabse bura moment hai. --- Main yeh letter — ya message — ya jo bhi hai — send nahi karunga. Drafts mein rahega. Jaise pichle 14 drafts hain. Ek din himmat aayegi. Ek din send karunga. Ek din tu padhegi. Par aaj nahi. Aaj bas — goodnight 🌙 Tumhara, Aditya P.S. — Yeh draft bhi delete nahi hoga. Kyunki teri tarah — kuch cheezein delete nahi hoti. [UPDATE — 3 months later: Maine bhej diya. Usne padha. Usne roya. Phir usne reply kiya — "14 drafts the?! Main toh pehle wale par hi haan bol deti." Ab hum saath hain. Drafts ab bhi hain — par ab dono milke likhte hain.]

Maa ki purani diary mili — almaari ke peeche. 1992 ki. Brown cover, yellow pages, Papa ki photo chipki hui first page par. Puri diary — daily routine. "Aaj sabzi li — 20 rupaye." "Aaj Pinky ko bukhar." "Aaj bijli nahi aayi — 6 ghante." Boring? Haan. Par last page — last page alag thi. Kisi aur ink se likhi thi. Saaf, sundar, sochi-samjhi. Jaise last page ke liye puri zindagi wait kiya ho. "Mere Rajesh ko, Tum yeh diary kabhi nahi padhoge — kyunki tumhe Hindi mein padhne ka patience nahi hai. Isliye main yahan likh rahi hoon — safely. Tumse shaadi ko 8 saal ho gaye. 8 saal mein tumne mujhe kabhi 'I love you' nahi kaha. Main jaanti hoon — tumhari generation nahi kehti. Meri bhi nahi. Par tum karte ho. Mujhe pata hai. Jab tum raat ko sote ho aur bedsheet meri taraf khench lete ho — woh pyaar hai. Jab tum market se 'aise hi' ek extra dupatta le aate ho — 'sale tha' bolke — woh pyaar hai. Jab Pinky beemar hoti hai aur tum poori raat jaagke uske sar par haath rakhte ho — woh pyaar hai. Usse bhi — mujhse bhi. Jab tum meri daal mein namak zyada hone par kuch nahi bolte — jab ki tumhe kam namak pasand hai — woh pyaar hai. Aur jab tum subah chai ka pehla cup mujhe dete ho — khud baad mein peete ho — woh pyaar hai jo kisi bhi 'I love you' se bada hai. Rajesh — agar tum yeh kabhi padho (nahi padhoge) — toh jaano: Main bhi tumse bahut pyaar karti hoon. Bahut bahut. Itna ki 8 saal ke daily expenses ke baad bhi — last page tumhare liye bachaya. Tumhari, Suman" --- Maine yeh page Papa ko dikhaya. Papa ne padha. Slowly. Chasma upar karke. Haath kaanpe. "Yeh..." Papa ruke. "Yeh tumhari Maa ne likha?" "Haan." Papa ne diary band ki. Seene se lagayi. Aankhein bheegi. "Usne kaha tha ki main Hindi mein nahi padhta. Sahi kaha tha." Papa hanse — rote hue. "Ab padh lo, Papa. Puri diary." "Puri padhunga. Har page. Har shabd." Aur Papa ne padhi — 1992 ki puri diary. Sabzi ke rate, bijli ki complaints, Pinky ka bukhar — sab. Rote hue padhi. Hanste hue padhi. Kyunki ab har boring entry mein bhi — Maa ki awaaz thi. Aur last page mein — woh sab kuch jo dono ne kabhi nahi kaha. Kuch pyaar — diaries ke last page par milta hai. 30 saal baad.

Shaadi ke baad — pehle hafte mein — Meera ne fridge par ek Post-it lagaya: "Doodh khatam hai. Aur tum cute ho. — M" Sameer ne neeche ek aur Post-it lagaya: "Doodh le aata hoon. Aur tum zyada cute ho. — S" Yeh shuru hua mazaak mein. Par ruka nahi. Mahine beet gaye. Post-its badhte gaye. Fridge se bathroom mirror tak. Bathroom se bedside table tak. Table se laptop tak. "Aaj tera tiffin mein extra roti daali hai. Patla hai tu." — M "Maine tere shampoo se baal dhoye. Sorry. Par smell achhi hai." — S "Interview achha jayega. Tujhe kisi ne reject kiya toh main unhe reject karungi." — M "Salary aayi! Pehla kharcha — tere liye earrings. Doosra — EMI. Sorry, order ulta hai but priorities." — S Ek saal mein — 300+ Post-its. Meera ne ek jar mein collect karne shuru kiye — "Pyaar ka Jar" naam diya. Par sab achha nahi tha. Ladaaiyan bhi thi. Jaise — "Aaj baat nahi karungi tumse." — M (2 ghante baad) "Baat nahi kar rahi par yeh batana tha ki AC ki remote sofe ke neeche hai." — M (1 ghante baad) "Okay fine. Baat kar rahi hoon. Par khana tu bana." — M Sameer ka reply — "Maggi chalegi?" — S "Maggi se divorce hota hai." — M "Rajma chawal bana raha hoon." — S "Forgiven." — M --- Ek din — badi ladaai. Serious wali. Meera ghar chali gayi — maayke. 3 din nahi boli. Sameer ne ek Post-it likha — aur courier kiya Meera ke ghar: "Fridge khaali hai. Ghar bhi. Dono mein teri kami hai. Wapas aa. Please." Meera waapas aayi. Fridge par ek Post-it lagaya: "Wapas aa gayi. Aur ek baat — is baar tum rote hue cute lagte the. Hamesha se lagte the. Par yeh pehli baar likh rahi hoon." --- Aaj — 5 saal ho gaye. Pyaar ka Jar — ab Jar nahi, ek poora shelf hai. 1800+ Post-its. Har ek mein — kuch bada likha hai, kuch chhota. Par sab mein ek cheez common — pyaar. Woh waala jo bade-bade lafzon mein nahi, Post-it ke chhote se kaagaz mein samaa jaata hai. Sameer ka latest Post-it — aaj subah fridge par: "7 saal pehle tujhse shaadi ki. Best decision. Second best — Post-it notes khareedna." Meera ka reply — neeche: "Agree. Par hum Costco se bulk mein khareedein ab. Khatam ho rahe hain. Jaise mera patience — tumhari Maggi ki wajah se. ❤️"