“Sab okay?” usne poocha, jaise casually weather ka haal pooch rahi ho.
Arjun ne shoulder shrug kiya. “Haan. Bas thoda dimag busy hai.”
“Busy ya trouble?” Naina ne poochha, aur phir khud hi ek step back le liya, jaise samajh gayi ho ki jawab ka mood nahi hai.
“Dono ka mix,” Arjun ne half-smile ke saath bola.
Naina ne file bundle ko adjust kiya. “Theek hai. Phir ek practical advice le lo—jab dimag busy ho na, toh unnecessary heroics mat karna. Campus ka aadha problem wahi se start hota hai.”
“Noted,” Arjun bola. “Tum hamesha itni sensible rehti ho?”
“Sirf un logon ke saath jo ulte seedhe kaam karte hain,” she said, dryly.
Woh dono ek pal ke liye chup rahe. Na koi awkwardness, na koi unfinished pull. Bas ek clean, quiet understanding. Jo tha, tha. Jo tha, khatam ho chuka tha. Naina ne bas ek nod diya, Arjun ne bhi waapas nod kiya, aur woh apni taraf mud gayi.
Arjun ne uske jaate hue steps ko follow nahi kiya. Uski nazar automatically old humanities block ke entrance ki taraf chali gayi, jahan ek faculty assistant tez kadmon se file trolley ke saath nikal raha tha. Brown cover files ka ek stack uske haath mein tha, aur unke upar se ek loose sheet hawa mein thodi si hil gayi. Arjun ki aankh us par atak gayi.
Room allocation list.
Usme ek line, ek number, ek naam—“69”—saaf dikh gaya, bas ek second ke liye, phir assistant ne paper ko fold karke bundle ke andar daal diya, jaise kuch bhi hua hi na ho.
Arjun ka poora body ek dum se alert ho gaya. Woh number aise hi kahin random nahi tha..
Engineering block ke lab mein late morning ki roshni safed strip-lights ke saath milkar aur bhi thandi lag rahi thi. Benches par scattered tools, ek half-open circuit box, aur whiteboard par adhura diagram—sab kuch normal tha, aur phir bhi kuch theek nahi tha.
Rohan apni notebook kholkar khada tha, pen ke tip se do alag dates ko circle karte hue. “Kunal ke statements mein gaps random nahi lag rahe,” woh dheere bola. “Kabhi bolta hai corridor ke end tak gaya, phir bolta hai stairs use ki. Aur timings—bilkul match nahi kar rahe.”
Imran, jo hamesha kam bolta tha, usne apne notes ko ek line mein set kiya aur bina drama ke bola, “Usko yaad hai ki usne kuch dekha tha. Bas ye yaad nahi ki kya. Jaise kisi ne scene ka middle hissa hata diya ho.”
Kabir lab ke door ke paas khada tha, bas ek haath pocket mein, doosre se apna phone ulta seedha karte hue. Uski nazar corridor par thi, lekin dimaag poore block mein phaila hua tha. “Scene nahi, layout badla hua lag raha hai,” usne murmur kiya. “Kal tak jo route seedha tha, aaj usmein dead end ka feel aa raha hai.”
Rohan ne uski taraf dekha. “Tu phir wahi bol raha hai—campus rearranged overnight?”
Kabir ne ek chhota sa shrug diya. “Haan. Aur ye mazaak nahi hai.”
Tabhi corridor se ek maintenance worker ka voice aaya, tool belt khadkhadate hue. Woh unke paas se guzra aur apne aap se zyada kisi aur se bolta hua bola, “Older wing ka power issue abhi bhi pending hai. Upar se sealed section mein kaam bhi rok diya gaya. Bol rahe hain logbook mein entry missing hai.”
Rohan ne turant head lift kiya. “Sealed section?”
Worker ne thoda sa shoulder uthaaya. “Haan, woh purana wala. Room numbers bhi weird hain wahan. Bada confusion hai. Kabhi maintenance request aati hai, kabhi cancel ho jaati hai. Kal raat 69 wali side pe bhi voltage dip aaya tha.”
Kabir ki aankhon mein ek second ke liye focus sharp ho gaya. “69?” usne bina emotion ke repeat kiya.
Worker ne haan mein sar hilaya. “Bas number yaad reh gaya. Baaki sab headache hai.”
Imran ne Rohan ki notebook par ek line aur jod di. “Kunal ne bhi ek number mention kiya tha,” usne kaha. “He didn’t say it directly, but he kept circling around it. Jaise usko khud par trust nahi ho.”
Rohan ne pen rok diya. “Toh sealed section, power issue, missing logbook entry—same thread ho sakta hai.”
Kabir kuch bolne hi wala tha ki corridor mein heels ki halki, controlled awaaz aayi. Dr. Meera Kapoor unke saamne se guzri, file folder ek haath mein, expression bilkul composed. Unki nazar seedha lab ke register par gayi.
“Morning,” unhone short tone mein kaha. “Kya kisi ne logbook mein last night ki entry dekhi hai? Engineering block ke east corridor ki.”
Teenon ek pal ke liye silent ho gaye. Professor ka tone casual nahi tha; woh direct tha, jaise already jaan rahi ho ki kuch missing hai.
Rohan ne sabse pehle jawab diya. “Nahi, ma’am. Hum check kar rahe the.”
Dr..
Auditorium ke back side mein noon ka heat aise chipka hua tha jaise kisi ne poori zameen par garam blanket daal diya ho. Parking stretch half-empty thi, do scooters tedhe khade the, ek purani white car ke windshield par dhool jam chuki thi, aur peeche se canteen ki halki si oil-smell hawa mein ghul rahi thi. Door kahin se stage ke mic ka test chal raha tha—“one, two, one”—aur us beech campus ka rest of the din ek ajeeb si thakan mein dooba hua lag raha tha.
Kabir boundary wall ke paas ruk kar phone pocket mein ghusa raha tha, jab Riya corner se nikli. Uske steps fast the, jaise woh kisi se milne aayi ho aur kisi se milna bhi na chahti ho. Usne ek baar Kabir ko dekha, phir nazar seedha rakhte hue bola, “Tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?”
Kabir ne kandhe uthaye. “Wahi jo tum kar rahi ho. Time waste nahi, bas time adjust.”
Riya ki mouth corner par ek dry sa almost-smile aaya. “Tumhari lines ab bhi wahi hain.”
“Achhi ya yaad reh jaati hain?” Kabir ne puchha.
“Dono mein se koi bhi option flattering nahi hai.”
Kabir ne hansi dabayi, par uski aankh parking ke doosre end par thi, jahan security guard chai ki bottle pakde bore ho raha tha. “Seedha bolo. Kis liye bulaya?”
Riya ne ek second ke liye aasman ki taraf dekha, jaise words choose kar rahi ho. “Bulaya nahi. Tum khud aa gaye. Typical Kabir.”
“Conveniently dramatic version lo.”
“Fine.” Riya ne awaaz neeche rakhi. “Kal shaam old hostel lane ke paas ek outsider dekha gaya tha.”
Kabir ka expression turant badla. “Outsider? Kaun?”
“Pata nahi. College ka nahi tha. Na faculty ka, na student ka.” Riya ne parking ke kone mein khade ek orange cone ko dekhte hue bola, “Log keh rahe the woh kisi room ke baare mein pooch raha tha.”
Kabir ki nazar patthar si ho gayi. “Kaunsa room?”
“Yehi part interesting hai.” Riya ne ek chhota sa pause liya. “Usne ‘Room 69’ nahi bola. Waqt waste karne wala type nahi lag raha tha. Bas ek room number bola, aur phir ek student name poocha—jo current class list mein hai hi nahi.”
Kabir ne instantly yaad karne ki koshish ki, lekin dimaag pehle se alert ho chuka tha. “Name?”