“Halki si?” Pooja ne aankh utha kar usse dekha. “Rohan, tumhari definition of ‘halki’ alag hi universe se aati hai. Stop acting invincible.”
Usne kuch bolne ke liye muh khola, par Pooja already terrace ke edge ki taraf nazar daal chuki thi. Opposite block ki chhat par ek shadow sa movement tha, almost invisible, phir bhi wrong. Pooja ka tone turant change hua.
“Wahan dekho.”
Rohan ne uss direction mein dekha. “Kya?”
“Pehle se koi observe kar raha hai boys’ floor ko.” Uski awaaz ab aur bhi dheemi thi. “Kal se do baar notice kiya hai. Same side, same timing.”
Rohan ka mazaak uda. “Tumhe sure hai ya tumhara campus gossip radar chal raha hai?”
“Rohan, gossip mein itna time nahi lagta.” Pooja ne ek second ke liye usse ghura. “Aur mujhe lagta hai woh sirf dekh nahi raha. Mapping kar raha hai.”
Neeche se ek sudden metallic click utha. Dono ek saath terrace ki parapet ke neeche jhuk gaye. Raat ka andhera ek pal ko aur gehra ho gaya, jaise kisi ne light ko bhi dara diya ho. Niche stairwell ke door par ek flashlight beam aakar ruki. White cone ne corridor ki deewar, rusty handle, aur phir ek masked figure ko briefly reveal kiya.
Rohan ki saans ruk gayi.
Figure ne door handle ko ek baar check kiya, phir beam ko slow sweep mein left-right kiya, jaise confirm kar raha ho ki koi nazdeek to nahi. Face poora covered tha. Sirf stance se hi lag raha tha ki woh campus ka student nahi, koi aur hi agenda lekar aaya hai.
Pooja ne bina awaaz ke bola, “Move.”
Dono neeche wali concrete partition ke peeche simat gaye. Terrace ka wind ab bhi chal raha tha, lekin usmein ab thandak kam aur warning zyada thi. Rohan ne apni palms ko deewar se lagaya, dhadkan ko control karne ki koshish ki.
“Yeh normal nahi hai,” usne bahut dheere kaha.
“Obviously.”.
Kabir ke room mein lights dim the, bas table lamp ka peela sa gola aur corridor se aati halki si awaaz. Room 69 ka number door par chipka hua tha, aur Kabir ko aaj woh number joke kam, warning zyada lag raha tha.
Riya khidki ke paas khadi thi, arms folded, face pe wohi familiar irritation. “Tumne teen din se message ka reply nahi kiya, aur ab mujhe yahan bula ke khud late ho?”
Kabir ne apna bag chair pe phenka. “Late main nahi, situation thi.”
“Situation?” Riya ne ek dry laugh diya. “Tumhari har mystery line situation ban jaati hai?”
Kabir ne jawab nahi diya. Usne bas uski taraf dekha, aur room ke andar ka hawa jaise ek second ke liye aur heavy ho gayi. Un dono ke beech tension nayi nahi thi, par aaj usmein kuch alag tha—jaise bahar ka shor cut ho gaya ho, aur sirf unke beech jo unsaid tha, woh reh gaya ho.
“Main mazaak ke mood mein nahi hoon, Kabir,” Riya ne dheere se kaha. “Kunal ka naam leke sab log palat rahe hain. Van ka angle, hostel wali raat, aur tum—tum bas half answers de rahe ho.”
Kabir ka jaw tight hua. “Half answers isliye, kyunki poori baat abhi safe nahi hai.”
“Safe?” Riya ka tone sharp hua, par aankhon mein ek thakaan thi. “Tum log har baar safe, risky, secret—yeh teen words repeat karte ho. Mujhe bas itna batao ki tum mujhe trust karte ho ya nahi.”
Kabir ne ek second ke liye nazar hata li. Phir seedha uske saamne aa gaya. “Trust ka sawaal nahi hai, Riya. Problem yeh hai ki jo bhi is mess mein hai, woh hum sabko dekh raha hai.”
Riya chup ho gayi. Outside, campus ke pump house ki taraf koi gate band hua, metal ka khat-khat sound corridor se takra ke room mein aa gaya. Kabir ne apni shirt ki sleeve upar ki, phir ruk gaya, jaise khud ko kisi aur thought se bachana ho.
“Tum mujhe door rakh ke protect nahi kar sakte,” Riya ne kaha, is baar awaaz mein gussa kam aur clarity zyada thi. “Main rival college se hoon, Kabir. Main fragile nahi hoon.”
Kabir ke hont pe ek halka sa, thaka hua sa smile aaya. “Kabhi-kabhi tum bahut zyada sure lagti ho.”
“Accha hai. Tum bahut zyada vague lagte ho.”
Is baar dono ke beech jo silence aayi, woh pehle wali se alag thi. Less fight, more understanding. Kabir ne ek step aur paas aakar table lamp ke neeche rakhe papers ko dekha—hostel map, van route ka scribble, aur ek naam jo baar-baar circle kiya gaya tha.
“Yeh naam tumne pehle kabhi suna hai?” Kabir ne poocha.
Riya ne paper par nazar daali, phir seedha uski aankhon mein. “Suna hai. Van ke driver ne ek baar adha-sa naam liya tha. ‘Mansoor’ ya ‘Mansukh’—exact yaad nahi. Lekin usne bola tha ki pehle bhi ek student us route par dekha gaya tha.”
Kabir ka chehra sakht ho gaya. “Kunal.”
Riya ne dheere se sar hilaaya. “Haan..
Midnight ke baad campus ka admin block aur bhi zyada khamosh lagta tha, jaise building ne khud saans rok li ho. Imran service passage ke side se andar ghus gaya, borrowed ID ko palm mein tight pakad ke. Guard booth ki light pehla dhoka thi; dusra dhoka woh tha ki corridor bilkul empty lag raha tha.
Par campus mein kabhi kuch truly empty nahi hota.
Imran ne apni steps slow rakhi. Wall par mounted old noticeboard ke neeche dust ki layer thi, aur floor par cleaning trolley ke wheel marks abhi tak taze the. Kisi ne is passage ko recently use kiya tha. Uski nazar end wall ke paas ek heavy records cabinet par tik gayi, jo half-shadow mein khada tha. Lock intact tha, lekin metal ke edge par fresh scratch marks chamak rahe the.
Imran ne aankh narrow ki. Scratch marks random nahi the. Kisi ne jaldi mein, ya gusse mein, ya dono mein, cabinet kholne ki koshish ki thi. Kunal ka file.
“Yeh already kisi ne check kiya hai,” usne dheere se khud se kaha.
Uske pehle haath cabinet ke handle tak bhi nahi पहुंचे the ki paas wale office se dabbi hui awaaz aayi. Door thoda sa ajar tha. Imran corridor ke saaye mein jam gaya.
“Relocation kal se pehle ho jaani chahiye,” ek sakht mardana voice boli. “Pressure zyada hai.”
“Pressure humein nahi lena tha,” dusri awaaz ne tez, thandi tone mein jawab diya. “Aur boys ko kuch pata nahi chalna chahiye. Don’t let the boys see him.”
Imran ki gardan ke muscles tight ho gaye. Him. Kunal.
Andar ek chair ke khisakne ki halki awaaz aayi. Phir pehli voice, aur neeche utari hui: “Agar unko shak hua toh pura plan out ho jayega.”
“Shak toh already hua hua hai,” dusri awaaz ne kaha. “Bas ab time khatam ho raha hai.”
Imran ne ek pal ke liye aankhen band kiं. Relocation. Pressure. Don’t let the boys see him. Yeh words kisi missing student ki kahani nahi, kisi operation ki script lag rahe the. Kunal ko khoja nahi ja raha tha. Kunal ko move kiya ja raha tha.
Usne cabinet ki scratch marks par phir nazar dali. Koi aur bhi yahan aaya tha. Koi pehle se trace pakad chuka tha.