Mitti Ki Khushboo: Jazbaati Rishtey: Hinglish Family Drama Story

**Pehla Rukh**

Rajouri ki subah naak se uthti hai. Pehli hawa mitti lekar aati hai—woh geeli, ziddi mitti jo Kashmir ki har aurat apne rida ke kone mein chhupaye rakhti hai.

Main, Mehrunisa, jab rasoi mein paon rakhti hoon, meri chappal thas-thas awaaz karti hai. Zameen mujhe yaad dilati hai ke main ab bhi zinda hoon, chahe mujhe apne wajan ka ehsaas kyun na ho raha ho.

Teen saal pehle tak main Arif ki begum thi. Aaj main school ki madam hoon, aur Sakeena ki padosan.

"Thak-thak-thak."

Darwaze pe Sakeena hai—chaalis ki umar paar, zubaan solah saal ki. Dupatta sar pe aise bandha hai jaise jang ke liye taiyaar ho.

"Arre Mehrunisa!" woh andar aate hi chillati hai, "Tumhari khidki se itni thandi hawa aa rahi hai ke ghar ko qabar bana rahi ho kya?"

Main muskurati hoon. Yeh uski mohabbat hai—gaali ke andar chhupi fikr.

"Andar aao. Kahwa banaya hai," main kehti hoon.

"Kahwa? Subah-subah?" woh aankh tairati hai, "Raat bhar so nahi paayi?"

Chulhe ke paas baithkar woh seedha bartan utha leti hai. Sakeena izazat nahi leti, bas le leti hai.

"Sun," woh achanak kehti hai, "aaj main Arif ke bagh ke paar se guzri. Baba Jan ko dekha. Keh raha tha ke ek purana darakht girne ko hai. Uske tane mein zang lag gaya hai."

Mera haath ruk jaata hai.

"Tum kabhi gayi nahi?" Sakeena poochhti hai.

"Kyun jaun?"

Woh meri taraf dekhti hai—woh dekhnan jo dard ko chhant-ta hai. "Kabhi kabhi insaan ko apne dukh ke paas jaana padta hai, Mehrunisa. Yeh Rajouri hai. Yahan dard ko bhi izzat deni padti hai."

Main uski baat ka jawab nahi deti. Sach yeh hai ke main bagh se isliye nahi door hoon ke dukh kam ho jaye, balki isliye ke kahin Arif ki koi aisi baat na mil jaaye jo main sambhaal na sakun.

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**Dusra Rukh**

School mein Tariq mere class mein hai. Baarah saal ka, patla, aur aankhen kisi budhe ki tarah gehri.

Woh khidki se bahar dekh raha hai—bagh ki taraf.

"Tariq," main awaaz deti hoon.

Woh palat ta hai. "Ji Madam?"

"Kya dekh rahe ho?"

"Us darakht ko," woh kehta hai, "jismein se kal seb gira tha. Baba Jan kehte hain ke uske neeche kuch daba hua hai."

Mera seena tang ho jaata hai.

Shaam ko Tariq mere paas aata hai. "Madam, aap gussa toh nahi hain?"

"Kyun?"

"Kyunki maine bagh ke baare mein kaha."

Main uski taraf dekhti hoon. "Nahin."

Woh khush ho jaata hai, phir seedha bolta hai, "Madam, aap kabhi bagh mein gayi hain?"

Main chup rehti hoon.

"Mere dada kehte the," woh aage badhta hai, "ke bagh mein jo mitti hai, woh sunti hai."

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**Teesra Rukh**

Agli subah main jaldi uthti hoon. Rasoi se tokri uthaati hoon—kuch seb, rotiyan, ek chhota chaadar. Pata nahi kyun, lekin aaj main bagh jaana chahti hoon.

Raste mein hawa alag hai. Sardi ki narmi hai—kisi ke saans jaisi. Main chalti hoon—school se pehle, ghar se door, apni aadat se hatkar.

Bagh gate pe pahunchti hoon. Lohe ka gate, zang alooda, mazboot. Ek budha aadmi khada hai—safed daadhi, dhundhli aankhen.

"Mehrunisa Bibi," woh kehta hai, jaise mera aana usne pehle se jaan liya ho.

"Baba Jan."

"Aaj aap aayi hain," yeh tasdeeq hai.

"Ji."

"Arif sahib ke bagh mein?"

"Haan."

Woh mudkar andar chalta hai. "Aao."

Darakhton ke beech se guzarte hue Arif ki yaad aati hai—unke qadam, unki khamoshi. Yahan unhone mujhe seb dikhaye the. Yahan unhone kaha tha, "Mehrunisa, yeh bagh meri ammi ki yaad hai."

"Yeh wala darakht," Baba Jan rukkar kehta hai, "yeh wahi hai jiske neeche Arif sahib baithte the."

Main upar dekhti hoon. Darakht purana hai, shakhen faili hui jaise haath. Zameen pe gehri chhaya hai.

"Wahan," Baba Jan ishaara karta hai, "ek patthar hai. Uske neeche... kuch hai."

Mera dil tez dhadakta hai.

"Arif sahib ne kaha tha," Baba Jan zameen ki taraf jhukte hue kehta hai, "teen saal pehle, jab unki tabiyat theek nahi rehti thi. 'Baba Jan, agar main na rahun to is jagah ko mat bhoolna. Yahan kuch hai jo Mehrunisa ko dena hai. Lekin pehle uski marzi ka intezar karna.'"

Meri saansein ruk si jaati hain.

Woh mitti hatata hai. Ek chhota lohe ka dabba nikalta hai. Zang alooda, purana. Upar seb ke phool jaisa nishaan—Arif ka.

"Aap kholo," main kehti hoon, haath kaanp rahe hain.

Woh dhakkan kholta hai.

Teen lifaafe. Ek par mera naam—Mehrunisa. Doosra khaali. Teesra mota, jaise koi duniya chhupi ho.

"Aur yeh," Baba Jan ek chhota kapda nikaalta hai.

Khulta hai. Ek qalam. Peeli lakdi ka, ghisa hua. Maa ka qalam.

Mera gala bhar aata hai. Mujhe yaad hai—meri maa ka qalam, jis se woh mujhe likhna sikhati thi. Main use kahan kho gayi thi?

"Arif sahib ne yeh bazaar se khareeda tha," Baba Jan kehta hai. "Kehte the, 'Mehrunisa ki maa ka tha. Ab Mehrunisa ka hoga.'"

Main wahin baith jaati hoon. Zameen geeli hai, thandi hai. Suraj upar chadhta hai, meri chhaya chhoti hoti hai. Baba Jan chup khada rehta hai.

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**Chautha Rukh**

Ghar laut kar main khaton ko chhoo karti hoon. Raat ko, jab Ammi so gayi hain, main candle jalaati hoon.

Pehla lifaafa.

Mehrunisa,

Agar tum yeh padh rahi ho, toh samajh lena ke main ab bhi kuch kehna chahta tha aur keh nahi saka. Tum hamesha kehti thi ke main baatein aadhi karta hoon. Shayad sach hai. Main aadha aadmi hi tha.

Mujhe maaf kar dena agar main ne tumhein kabhi yeh na bataya ke bagh mere liye sirf kaam nahi tha. Yeh woh jagah thi jahan main apni kamzori chupata tha. Tumhari khamoshi aur meri khamoshi ek hi table par baith kar chai peeti thi, bas humne kabhi dekha nahi.

Arif

Doosra.

Mehrunisa,

Tum mujhe aksar bolti thi ke main ghar aakar bhi bagh ki mitti haath se nahi jhaadta. Tum naraz hoti thi. Main hans deta tha. Par sach yeh hai ke mujhe mitti se lagav tum se milne ke baad aur zyada hua. Kyunki tumne mujhe bataya tha ke ghar sirf chaar deewarein nahi hota.

Maine tumse ek baat chhupayi. Jab doctor ne kaha tha ke mere paas waqt kam hai, main dar gaya tha. Main tumse kehna chahta tha ke main tumhe akela nahi chhodna chahta. Lekin phir mujhe laga, agar main sach bol diya toh tum har pal us waqt ko ginogi. Isliye main chup raha.

Arif

Mere haath se kaghaz neeche gir jaata hai.

Teesra. Sabse mota.

Mehrunisa,

Agar tum yahan tak aa gayi ho, toh main tumse ek maafi aur maangta hoon. Main ne tumhein humesha zameen se joda dekha. Tumhari zidd bhi mitti jaisi thi—sakht, par zinda.

Main chahta tha tum mere baad sirf meri yaad sambhalo. Main chahta tha tum apni yaad bhi sambhalo.

Arif

Main wahin baithi rehti hoon. Candle ki roshni kamzor hoti hai. Bahar kutta bhaunk raha hai.

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**Paanchva Rukh**

Agli subah Sakeena aati hai. Woh jaanti hai—shayad Baba Jan ne bataya.

"Padh liye?" woh poochhti hai.

"Ji," main kehti hoon.

"Kya kaha usne?"

Main usse batati hoon. Har lafz. Woh sunti hai—sach mein sunti hai, beech mein nahi bolti.

Phir kehti hai, "Mard kabhi kabhi chhoti cheezon mein badi mohabbat chhupa dete hain. Bas humein der se samajh aata hai."

"Usne mujhe bataya kyun nahi?"

"Kyunki tum dono mein ek aadat thi—jo dard tha usse sambhalne ke bajaye chup karne ki." Woh rukkar kehti hai, "Main ne bhi yahi kiya tha. Apne shohar ke saath. Jab tak unki maut hui, tab tak main unse wohi baat nahi keh paayi."

Usi din shaam ko Tariq aata hai. "Madam, aap ro rahi thi?"

"Nahi."

"Jhooth," woh muskurata hai, "aapki aankhen laal thi. Main ne dekha."

Main uske baal chhoo kar kehti hoon, "Tum bahut tez ho gaye ho."

Woh serious ho jaata hai, "Madam, agar aap udaas hain toh main bagh nahi jaaunga."

Main uski taraf dekhti hoon. "Nahi, aao. Bagh mein aao."

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**Chhata Rukh**

Din badalne lagte hain. Dheere dheere. Tariq ab mera saathi hai bagh mein—woh seb todta hai, main usse Urdu sikhaati hoon. Baba Jan mujhe seb ki qismein batata hai—Ambri, Delicious, Golden.

Sakeena roz aati hai, kabhi noon chai lekar, kabhi bakarkhani.

Ek din main bagh mein qalam lekar jaati hoon. Maa ka qalam. Usi bench pe baithti hoon—jahan Arif baithte the—and paper par likhti hoon:

Arif,

Main tumhe maaf karti hoon. Aur shayad khud ko bhi.

Main bagh aati rahungi. Main zindagi ko bhi.

Tumhari, Mehrunisa

Main is khat ko usi darakht ke neeche dafna deti hoon. Baba Jan dekh raha hota hai, kuch nahi kehta. Bas sar hila deta hai.

Shaam ko Sakeena darwaze pe hai. "Kya kiya?"

"Jawaab diya," main kehti hoon.

Woh muskurati hai. "Theek hai. Ab chai pila do."

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**Saatvaan Rukh**

Aaj, jab main yeh likh rahi hoon, toh barf girne wali hai. Rajouri ki sardi apne pooray josh mein hai. Lekin mere kamre mein ek alag si garmi hai.

Tariq ab aur tez ho gaya hai. Usne ek essay likha—"Mera Bagh"—aur usmein meri aur Arif ki kahani bayaan ki hai, apne lafzon mein.

Maine faisla kiya hai ke bagh nahi bechungi. Yahan ek chhota sa school kholungi—bachchon ke liye, jo zameen se seekh sakein.

Kal main ne bagh mein ek naya paudha lagaya. Badam ka. Arif ke paudhe ke paas. Maine dono ke beech rasta chhoda hai—taake ek doosre ko dekh sakein.

Sakeena ne kaha, "Pagal ho gayi ho. Do paudhon ko kya milana hai?"

Maine kaha, "Zameen janti hai."

Woh sir hilaayi. Lekin main jaanti hoon ke woh samajh gayi hai.

Aaj shaam, jab main bagh se laut rahi thi, toh hawa mein kuch alag tha. Seb ke patton ki khushboo ke saath, koi purani yaad bhi thi—Arif ki, meri maa ki.

Lekin ab woh yaad dard nahi deti. Woh saath chalti hai, jaise koi purana dost jo raat ko chhat pe aakar baith jaata hai, bina kuch kahe.

Main ghar pahunchi. Khidki se bahar dekha—bagh ki taraf, jahan andhera tha, lekin kuch roshni bhi thi.

Mitti ab mere kapdon mein hai. Mere saanson mein hai.

Aur main pehli baar usse bhaagne nahi chahti. Main usse apna bana rahi hoon—ek raat ek din, ek saans ek waqt.

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