Pink Auto: Ek Shandaar Women Empowerment Hinglish Kahani

Pink Auto

Subah Ranchi mein sardi aise ghusti thi jaise kisi ne bina poochhe ghar ka darwaza khol diya ho. Chhaton par dhundh baithi hoti, sadak pe kora sa safed saans sa tairta, aur traffic… traffic toh kabhi nahi sota tha. Horn, brake, gaali, diesel—sab ek hi saath.

Main apni pink auto ke paas khadi thi, dono haath ek-dusre se ragad rahi thi. Ungliyan sunn ho chuki thi, par kaam ruk nahi sakta tha. Auto ka engine khankhankaya toh mujhe apni hi dhadkan ki tarah laga. Roz ka shuru hone wala shor. Roz ka jeena.

Log meri auto ko dekhkar do pal rukte. Kuch hans dete. Kuch aankh nikaal ke dekhte. Kuch bas sar hila kar aage badh jaate, jaise duniya mein pink auto ka hona bhi koi ajeeb khabar ho.

Mere liye ye rang ajeeb nahi tha. Ye meri zid thi.

Pehle main rangon ke baare mein sochti bhi nahi thi. Shaadi ke baad zindagi mein sochne ka waqt hi kahan hota hai. Ghar ka kaam, bachchi ka rona, pati ka gussa, aur roz ka ye darr ki aaj fir se kuch toot na jaaye. Phir ek din sach mein sab toot gaya. Pati chale gaye. Kis tarah gaye, kyun gaye—yeh sawaal kuch log puchte rahe, kuch ne khud jawab bana liya. Mere liye fark kam tha. Ghar mein ek kursi khaali ho gayi thi, aur zimmedariyan aur bhaari.

Tab logon ne pehle taras diya, phir taana.

“Akeli aurat kya karegi?” “Ghar sambhalo.” “Bahar ka kaam tumhare bas ka nahi.” “Auto chalana mardon ka kaam hai.”

Main sunti rahi. Chup rehna mujhe aata tha. Chup rehna hi meri pehli survival skill thi.

Phir maine pink auto li.

Itna pink ki door se hi bole—haan, main hoon. Main dikh rahi hoon. Main chup nahi rahungi.

“Maa!”

Meera ghar ke andar se daudti hui aayi. School uniform aadhi pehni, aadhi neend mein. Uske baal hamesha ki tarah uljhe hue the. Uske haath mein ek mitti se bhara joota tha, jo shayad kal raat se hi uska intezaar kar raha tha.

“Kya hua, beta?” maine poocha.

“Main late ho jaungi.”

“Jaogi kaise late? Abhi time hai.”

Woh mere paas aakar meri auto ko dekhne lagi, jaise roz dekhkar bhi aaj kuch alag dekh rahi ho. “Aaj phir pink wali?”

“Ha.”

“Log dekhte honge.”

“Dekhne do.”

Usne aankh uthakar mujhe dekha. “Tumhe bura nahi lagta?”

Main ne uska school bag uthaya aur kandhe pe theek se rakha. “Lagta hai.”

“Phir bhi?”

“Phir bhi chalana padta hai.”

Meera ne hoth sikod liye. Wo bachchi thi, par har baat seedha dil mein jaati thi. Kabhi kabhi uski aankhon mein apne se zyada sawal hote the.

“Teacher ne poocha tha,” usne dheere se kaha, “meri mummy kya kaam karti hain.”

Main uski taraf palti. “Aur tumne kya bola?”

“Auto chalati hain.”

“Achha kiya.”

“Phir ek ladka bola—aurat auto chalati hai kya?”

Mere hothon pe bina chahe ek halki si hansi aa gayi. “Phir?”

“Maine bola—haan, meri mummy chalati hain.”

Uske bolne ka andaaz aisa tha jaise woh khud se zyada mujh par yakeen karti ho. Main ne uske gaal ko chhua.

“Bahut achha.”

Usne seedha poocha, “Maa, tum thakti ho?”

“Ha.”

“Phir bhi chalati ho?”

Main ek pal chup rahi. Is sawal ka sach bahut seedha tha, aur sach aksar bachchon ke saamne nanga ho jaata hai.

“Chalana padta hai, beta. Tumhari school fees, ghar ka kiraya, sab isi se hai.”

Meera ne thoda socha. Phir bola, “Toh phir ye auto humari family ki sabse important cheez hai.”

Main ne hansne ki koshish ki. “Ho sakta hai.”

Woh khush ho gayi, jaise usne koi bahut badi baat bol di ho. School late ho raha tha. Main use gate tak chhod aayi. Usne mudkar ek baar phir auto ko dekha—pink bonnet, thodi dhool, thoda rang, aur meri mehnat.

Mere liye woh sirf gaadi nahi thi.

Woh ghar ka engine thi.

Chauraha

Stand par pahunchte hi hawa ka mood samajh aa gaya. Auto walon ka chauraha roz ka tha—chai ki tapri, cigarette ka dhuan, ek-do aadmiyon ki bekaar hansi, aur horn ke beech girti hui baatein. Lekin aaj wahan Mahendra Singh khada tha.

Mahendra union boss tha. Umr mein mujhse kuch saal bada, par uska andaaz aisa jaise stand usne kiraye par nahi, janm se pakad rakha ho. Shirt ka pehla button hamesha khula, chhati thodi aage, aur aankhon mein woh confidence jo aksar un logon mein hota hai jinko kabhi “na” sunne ki aadat nahi hoti.

Main auto laga hi rahi thi ki uski awaaz aayi.

“Arre Phoolmati ji,” usne lambi hansi ke saath kaha, “aaj phir pink auto le aayi? Ranchi ko mela bana diya kya?”

Do driver hans pade. Ek ne chai ki tapri ki taraf mudkar kuch aur bola, dusra cigarette ki raakh jhaadte hue meri taraf dekhne laga. Unki hansi mein chubhan thi. Aise jaise main koi beech ki cheez hoon—na poori tarah seriously lene layak, na poori tarah ignore karne layak.

Main chup rahi.

Chup rehna mera purana tareeka tha. Jab koi aurat ko dekhkar muskurata aur us muskurahat mein izzat kam, mazaak zyada hota, tab chup. Jab koi bhare stand par “yeh kaam tumhare bas ka nahi” bolta, tab chup. Jab kisi ne seedha aankhon mein nahi dekha, sirf body ko dekha, tab bhi chup.

Mahendra mere paas aaya. “Sun lo. Route yahan union ka hai. Tumhara alag drama kahin aur karna. Stand pe yeh circus nahi chalega.”

“Main circus nahi kar rahi,” maine kaha. “Jo passenger milte hain, unko le jaati hoon.”

“Passenger?” Uske hoth tedhe ho gaye. “Log mazaak ke liye baithte hain tumhare auto mein. Kaam ke liye nahi. Aurat ho, samjhi? Is line mein tikogi kaise?”

Peechhe se Raju ki hansi phooti. Raju Mahendra ka chamcha nahi, uska shadow tha. Har baat pe haan, har mazaak pe pehle hansne wala.

“Boss sahi bol raha hai,” usne kaha. “Pink auto mein kaun baithta hai? Circus thodi hai.”

Mere haath steering par aur kas gaye.

Maine dono ko dekha. Unki aankhon mein yeh yakeen tha ki woh mujhe chhota kar rahe hain. Shayad unhein aisi aurat ki aadat nahi thi jo aankh jhukaa kar bhi unke pair mein na aaye.

“Risk sabmein hota hai,” maine dheere se kaha. “Sadak pe bhi, aur zindagi mein bhi.”

Mahendra ne aankhen sikod li. “Zyada bolne lagi ho.”

“Bolna kab mana tha?”

Uska chehra sakht ho gaya. “Yaad rakho. Yahan chalna hai toh line mein chalna padega.”

“Kaunsi line?”

“Jo humne banayi hai.”

Uski awaaz mein wahi purana faisla tha—line woh banayenge, route woh batayenge, aur aurat ko bas unke diye hue kone mein rehna hai. Sadak sabke liye thi, par izzat kuch logon ke liye hi bani thi.

Raju ne aur namak chhidka. “Aur waise bhi, aadmi ke kaam mein aurat ka kya kaam?”

Mere andar kuch hila. Gussa bhi, beizzati bhi, aur woh purana darr bhi jo kabhi gaya nahi tha. Main ne Meera ke school bag ka weight yaad kiya. Ghar ka kiraya. Bijli ka bill. Ration ka hisaab. Sab ek pal mein mere saamne aa gaya.

Main ne bas itna kaha, “Kaam ka aadmi-aurat se kya lena-dena?”

Mahendra ka chehra aur sakht ho gaya. “Bahut hoshiyar mat bano, Phoolmati. Is shehar mein pink auto chalani hai toh humse pooch ke chalna padega.”

Usne yeh aise kaha jaise meri zindagi usi ki permission par chal rahi ho.

Mujhe us pal samajh aaya ki yeh sirf route ka masla nahi tha. Yeh meri jagah ka masla tha.

Aur jab kisi aurat ki jagah chheenne ki koshish hoti hai na, toh baat auto se aage nikal jaati hai.

Doctor Saab

Dopehar ke waqt hospital side se ek passenger mila. Safed coat, seedha chashma, aur chehre par woh thakan jo sirf un logon ke paas hoti hai jo roz bahut dekhte hain aur kam bolte hain.

“RIMS tak chalna hai,” usne kaha.

“Baith jaiye.”

Woh baith gaya. Pehle kuch der chup raha. Phir mirror mein mujhe dekhne laga. Aise nahi jaise ghur raha ho. Jaise samajh raha ho ki jo cheez bahar se seedhi lag rahi hai, uske andar kitni mehnat lagi hogi.

Thodi der baad usne poocha, “Yeh aap chalati hain?”

“Ji.”

“Roz?”

“Roz.”

“Stand pe.”

“Ji.”

“Union wale pareshan karte hain?”

Main ne steering par nazar rakhte hue kaha, “Pareshani hi kaam ka doosra naam hai, Doctor saab.”

Usne halki si muskurahat di. “Main doctor hoon, andaza laga sakta hoon. Seedha boliye.”

Mujhe uska andaaz ajeeb tarah se accha laga. Na usmein taras tha, na mazaak. Bas seedha dekhne ki aadat.

“Pareshan karte hain,” maine sach bol diya. “Bolte hain aurat ho, auto ka kya karogi. Kabhi route se hata dete hain, kabhi passengers ko dara dete hain, kabhi fees badha dete hain. Kaam karna ho toh unke hisaab se, warna ghar baitho.”

Woh khidki se bahar dekhte hue bola, “Police ko bataya?”

Main ne halka sa hans kar saans chhodi. “Aur phir? Kal stand pe kaun khada hone dega? Chhoti earning hai. Upar se jhanjhat aur badh jaayega.”

“Dar ke chalte sab chup rehte hain,” usne kaha. “Isi ka faayda uthate hain.”

Main ne mirror mein uski taraf dekha. “Aap itna seedha kaise bol rahe hain?”

“Kyuki seedha hona aasaan nahi hota,” usne jawab diya. “Bas galat ko normal maan lena aur bhi aasaan hai.”

Ye line mere andar kahin seedha jaake lagi. Itne saalon mein log ya toh taras lete the ya taana. Ye pehla aadmi tha jo mujhe aise dekh raha tha jaise main mazaak nahi, ek insaan hoon.

“Main aapko lecture nahi de raha,” usne phir kaha. “Par agar koi cheez galat hai, toh uska record hona chahiye. Complaint. Date. Time. Witness.”

“Witness?” maine poocha.

“Main ho sakta hoon.”

Maine uski taraf seedha dekha. “Aap kyun madad karenge?”

Woh ek pal chup raha. Phir bola, “Kyunki aap apna kaam kar rahi hain. Ismein problem kya hai?”

Mujhe laga jaise kisi ne andar ke band kamre ka darwaza halka sa khol diya ho.

Hospital gate par utarte waqt usne apna card diya. “Ye number rakh lijiye. Legal aid wale ek dost hain. Kabhi zarurat pade toh call karna.”

Maine card ko dekha. Naam, number, clinic ka stamp. Sab kuch sach lag raha tha. Jaise kisi ne mujhe pehli baar kisi aur ke liye nahi, mere liye kuch diya ho.

“Dhanyavaad, Doctor saab.”

“Dhanyavaad ki baat nahi. Safe driving.”

Woh chala gaya. Main kuch der auto mein baithi rahi. Bahar shehar bhaag raha tha. Andar mere andar kuch dheere se seedha ho raha tha—jaise saalon se jhuka hua kandha pehli baar apni jagah pe aa raha ho.

Bitiya Ki Nazar

Shaam ko ghar laut kar main bas chappal utar hi rahi thi ki Meera daudti hui aayi. School se aate hi woh seedha meri taraf aati thi, jaise ghar ka asli darwaza main hi hoon.

“Maa! Aaj maine sabko bataya.”

“Kya bataya?”

“Ki meri mummy auto chalati hain.”

Main ne uski taraf dekha. “Aur phir?”

“Sabne poocha kaunsi auto. Maine bola pink wali.”

Uski aankhon mein ajeeb si chamak thi. Jaise usne koi prize jeet liya ho.

“Ek ladka bola pink auto toh ladkiyon ki cycle jaisi hoti hai,” usne nakh se kaha. “Maine bola—nahi, ye meri mummy ki gaadi hai.”

Main chup ho gayi.

“Teacher ne bhi suna,” woh aur excited hokar boli. “Unhone poocha ki tum roz chalati ho kya?”

“Phir?”

“Maine bola haan. Roz.”

Main ne uske gaal ko chhua. “Tumne bahut achha bola.”

Woh mere pair ke paas baith gayi. “Maa, tum thakti ho na?”

“Ha.”

“Phir bhi chalati ho?”

“Chalana padta hai, beta.”

Woh kuch der sochti rahi. Phir boli, “Mujhe tumhari auto achhi lagti hai.”

“Achhi kyun?”

“Kyuki woh tumhari hai.”

Us baat ne mujhe ek pal ke liye hila diya.

Main ne hansne ki koshish ki. “Aur kuch?”

“Teacher ne bola, kaam se pehchaan banti hai.”

“Hmm.”

“Main ne socha, phir toh tum famous ho.”

Is baar main sach mein hans padi. Thodi der ke liye ghar ka kamra halka ho gaya.

Raat ko jab Meera so gayi, main chulhe ke paas baithi roti sek rahi thi. Doctor saab ka card mere purse mein tha. Main use baar-baar nikaal kar dekh rahi thi. Har baar lagta tha jaise koi seedha raasta mere haath mein aa gaya ho—par chalna ab bhi mujhe hi tha.

Main soch rahi thi—kya main sach mein complaint kar paungi? Kya koi meri baat sunega? Ya sab wahi kahenge—aurat ho, itna kya bolna?

Phir Meera ki awaaz yaad aayi.

“Ye meri mummy ki gaadi hai.”

Aur uske baad—“Meri mummy famous ho.”

Mujhe pehli baar laga ki mera kaam sirf survival nahi hai.

Meri pehchaan bhi hai.

Dhamki Aur Dhoondh

Agale din stand par hawa aur thandi thi. Ya shayad mere andar ka darr thoda aur jag gaya tha, isliye sab kuch zyada sakht lag raha tha.

Mahendra aur Raju dono wahi the. Aur is baar unke saath do aur driver bhi khade the—aise jaise group banake khade hone se sach unka ho jaata ho.

Main auto laga hi rahi thi ki Mahendra ne haath uthakar mujhe roka.

“Aaj se yeh route tum nahi logi.”

Main ruk gayi. “Kyoon?”

“Union ka decision hai.”

“Kaun sa union?”

Uske hothon pe tedhi si muskurahat aayi. “Jo yahan kaam karta hai.”

Mere andar kuch garam hua. “Sab driver union mein hain. Sabne decide kiya?”

Raju ne kandhe uchkaye. “Jo kaam samajhte hain, wahi decide karte hain.”

Mahendra ne baat pakad li. “Tumko warning di ja rahi hai. Aurat ho, ghar sambhalo. Yahan stand pe itni akad achhi nahi lagti.”

Main ne seedha uski taraf dekha. “Mujhe ghar ka kaam mat sikhao. Mere ghar ka chulha isi auto se jalta hai.”

Usne taana maara, “Chulha? Zyada udogi toh woh bhi bujh jayega.”

“Kaise?”

“Passengers ko bol denge tumhari auto mein mat baitho.”

“Bolo.” Mere lafz pehle se zyada seedhe the. “Par sach bhi bolo. Ki tum log aurat ko yahan dekh nahi sakte.”

Raju aage badh aaya. “Zubaan sambhaal ke, Phoolmati. Humse uljhi toh stand pe jagah nahi milegi.”

“Jagah tum de rahe ho?” maine poocha. “Sadak tumhari hai?”

Mahendra ka chehra garam ho gaya. “Bahut ho gaya. Side mein khadi ho jao. Agar kaam karna hai toh hamare hisaab se. Warna niklo.”

Usne yeh is tarah kaha jaise mujhe khud banaya ho, aur ab khud hi mujhe tod sakta ho.

Mera gala sookh gaya. Side mein khadi ho jao—sirf line nahi thi. Yeh mujhe meri jagah se dhakelna tha. Meri mehnat ko unke ego ke neeche rakhna tha.

Raju ne meri pink auto ki taraf dekha aur hansi dabayi. “Waise bhi, Doctor wala passenger tumhari side ka ban raha hai kya? Safed coat pehen ke sab theek thodi ho jaata hai.”

Mujhe uska naam unko batana nahi tha, par samajh gayi thi ki unhe woh chub gaya tha. Koi tha jo meri taraf dekh raha tha. Koi tha jo mera kaam mazaak nahi bol raha tha.

Mahendra ne auto ke bonnet par zor se haath maara. “Darr tumko hona chahiye, Phoolmati.”

Main kaanp gayi. Lekin piche nahi hटी.

Us din kamai kam hui. Kuch passengers ruk kar mujhe dekhte, phir aage nikal jaate. Kuch shayad Mahendra ki baat sun chuke the. Shehar mein afwaah kisi tez auto se bhi tez bhaagti hai.

Ghar laut kar main seedha kursi par baith gayi. Sar haathon mein chhupa liya.

Meera mere paas aa gayi. “Kya hua?”

“Kuch nahi.”

Woh meri taraf dekhkar boli, “Jhooth mat bolo.”

Main use dekhte reh gayi. “Log chahte hain main side mein khadi rahun.”

“Kyoon?”

“Kyuki unhe lagta hai main yahan fit nahi hoon.”

Meera ne pair patak diya. “Unko kya pata? Ye toh tumhari auto hai.”

Main chup ho gayi. Uski seedhi baat ne mujhe hila diya. Jo cheez main saalon se soch rahi thi, uska sabse saaf jawab ek bachchi ne de diya.

Raat ko maine Doctor saab ka card nikaala. Thodi der tak dekhti rahi. Phir phone uthaya.

Andolan Ka मोड़

Meeting wali jagah chhoti thi. Ek purana fan dheere-dheere ghoom raha tha. Table ke doosri taraf do-teen log baithe the. Doctor saab bhi the. Mujhe dekhkar unhone bas halka sa nod kiya. Jaise keh rahe hon—aa gayin, ab bolna hoga.

Mere haath mein dupatta tha. Ungliyan usmein ulajh rahi thi.

Mahendra bhi aa gaya tha. Raju uske saath tha. Dono ke chehre par wahi purani muskurahat—jisme aadmi ko apne aap par bahut bharosa hota hai aur dusre par bilkul nahi.

Mahendra ne mujhe dekhte hi kaha, “Toh aa gayi. Doctor saab ne himmat de di?”

Maine seedha jawab diya, “Himmat aapne di. Roz pareshan karke.”

Room mein ek pal ko khamoshi aa gayi.

Doctor saab ne shant awaaz mein kaha, “Phoolmati ji, aap jo bhi bolengi, clearly boliye. Dates yaad hain toh batayiye.”

Main ne gehri saans li. Gale mein sookha-pan tha. Aisa lag raha tha jaise purani aadat mere kandhe pe baithi ho aur kaan mein bol rahi ho—chup reh. Kaam kar. Kisi se mat lad.

Par phir Meera ka chehra yaad aaya.

Meri hi auto mein uska khush hona. Uska kehna—“Ye meri mummy ki gaadi hai.”

Maine bolna shuru kiya. Pehle dheere, phir seedha.

“Mujhe stand pe kaam karne se roka gaya. Mere passengers ko daraaya gaya. Route block kiya gaya. Side mein khade rehne ko bola gaya. Aur aurat hone ki wajah se baar-baar beizzat kiya gaya.”

Mahendra turant bola, “Ye sab jhooth hai.”

“Nahi hai,” maine pehli baar unchi awaaz mein kaha. “Main akeli hoon, isliye aap sochte hain main kuch nahi karungi. Par main kaam karti hoon. Main paise kamati hoon. Main kisi se bheekh nahi maang rahi.”

Raju beech mein bol pada, “Madam, yeh emotional baat hai—”

Doctor saab ne haath uthaya. “Let her finish.”

Main ne dono ko dekha. “Aapko mera auto pink lagta hai, mujhe nahi. Aapko aurat ka sadak pe hona mazaak lagta hai, mujhe nahi. Main yahan kisi ka route chheenne nahi aayi. Main bas apni rozi bachane aayi hoon. Aur agar yeh aapko problem hai, toh problem mera kaam nahi, aapka soch hai.”

Meri awaaz kaanp rahi thi. Par ruki nahi.

Maine complaint paper ki taraf dekha. Doctor saab ne pen aage badhaya. “Yahan sign kar dijiye. Main statement file karwa dunga.”

Maine pen pakda. Us pal laga jaise mere haath mein sirf pen nahi, darr ka ek tukda bhi aa gaya ho. Woh darr jo saalon se mere kandhe pe baitha tha.

Mahendra ne mujhe ghoor kar dekha. “Yeh sab karke kya mil jayega? Izzat? Stand pe jagah? Log phir bhi wahi sochenge.”

Maine signature karte hue uski taraf dekha. “Log jo sochenge sochenge. Main ab jo hoon, usse chhoti nahi ho sakti.”

Raju ne nazar hika li. Mahendra ke hoth sakht ho gaye. Shayad usko pehli baar samajh aaya ki mujhe jhukana itna aasaan nahi.

Complaint file ho gayi.

Baahar nikalte waqt hawa thodi kam thandi lagi. Sardi ab bhi thi, lekin mere andar koi aur mausam shuru ho gaya tha—thoda sa dar, thoda sa sukoon, aur bahut saari jagah.

Doctor saab ne gate par mujhe roka. “Aapne bahut achha kiya.”

Main ne sar hila diya. “Bahut achha nahi. Bas zaroori.”

“Zaroori cheezein hi sabse mushkil hoti hain.”

Main ne unki taraf dekha. “Aaj pehli baar laga ki main sirf auto nahi chala rahi.”

Woh samajh gaya. “Aap apni jagah bhi chala rahi hain.”

Shehar Ki Raah

Agale kuch din seedhe nahi the. Mahendra ka gussa khula hua tha, par complaint ke baad woh pehle jaisa khullam-khulla nahi kar paaya. Kuch logon ki nazar ab bhi mujhe alag se dekhti thi, lekin unmein mazaak kam aur sawal zyada tha.

Raju kabhi kabhi mujhe dekhkar nazar hika leta. Shayad pehli baar uske andar bhi halka sa darr aaya tha—ya shayad sharm. Dono ka chehra ek jaisa hi hota hai, jab aadmi ko apni galti ka andaza ho.

Ek subah stand par ek aunty ne mera auto rok diya.

“RIMS side jaana hai.”

“Baith jaiye.”

Woh baith gayi. Phir pink seat ko dekhkar boli, “Achha lagta hai. Bacchiyon ka rang nahi, tumhara rang.”

Main ne unki taraf muskurakar dekha. “Rang bhi kabhi kabhi aadmi ka ho jaata hai.”

Woh hans padi. “Sahi bola.”

Phir ek college ka ladka baitha. Usne auto ke andar dekhkar kaha, “Madam, aapki driving smooth hai.”

“Dhanyavaad.”

“Union wale pareshan karte hain kya?”

Main ne mirror se uski taraf dekha. “Kabhi kabhi.”

“Par aap chalati ho.”

Uski seedhi baat se mujhe halki si hansi aa gayi. “Ha, chalati hoon.”

Us din shaam ko Meera school se jaldi aa gayi. Gate par hi mil gayi. Usne mujhe dekhkar seedha sawaal kiya, “Maa, aaj sab theek tha?”

Main ne uski taraf dekha. “Theek chal raha hai.”

“Darte ho?”

Main ne uske saamne jhuk kar kaha, “Darr toh lagta hai.”

“Phir?”

“Par ab darr ke saath kaam kar leti hoon.”

Woh meri baat ko kisi kahani ki tarah sun rahi thi. Phir usne pink auto ki taraf ishara kiya. “Chalo, mujhe bhi andar baithna hai.”

Main ne use pichhli seat par bithaya. Woh khidki se bahar dekh rahi thi, jaise kisi raani ka rath ho.

“Ye meri mummy ki gaadi hai,” usne khushi se phir kaha.

Maine steering wheel pakda. Mirror mein apna chehra dekha. Thakaan thi, haan. Par us thakaan ke neeche kuch aur bhi tha—seedha, hard, aur apna.

Shehar ki sadkon par traffic wahi tha. Horn wahi the. Thand wahi thi. Mahendra ki duniya bhi wahi thi.

Par main wahi Phoolmati nahi thi jo side mein khadi ho jaaye.

Main auto chala rahi thi.

Aur is baar, apni jagah bhi.

Khatam