सोई-सोई पलकों पे चल के
मेरे सपनों की खिड़की पे आ गया
आते-जाते फिर मेरे दिल के
इन हाथों में वो ख़त पकड़ा गया
प्यार का, लफ़्ज़ों में रंग है प्यार का
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“AAP???”
“Ji haan main. Ab aap please aise chillayie mat warna koi na koi aa jaayega aur meri khatirdari shuru ho jaayegi,” Mihir said, looking perturbed.
“Woh toh hoga hi. Aap itni raat ko humare room mein kya kar rahe hain?” Tripti asked, trying to sound disappointed.
“Maaf kijiye lekin main khud ko rok nahi paaya. Main yeh jaanna chahta hoon ki aapne dining table pe jo kaha... woh sirf ek mazaak tha ya phir… sach?”
Tripti, who was standing at an arm's distance from Mridul, removed his hands from her shoulders — which had unknowingly landed there — took a step closer, and then another. She was so close that she could feel his breath brushing her forehead in shallow heaves, while hers fanned against his collarbone, sending a ripple of shivers through him. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. He again placed his hands on her shoulders and tried — tried — to push her away, just a little, as the closeness was affecting him more than he cared to admit.
Tripti took both his palms in her hands and slowly lifted them toward her lips, stopping just before his knuckles could touch them. Her breath caressed his skin as she whispered, “Kya sunna chahte hain aap… Mridul ji?”
Mridul couldn’t understand why Tripti was behaving like this — and even more, why his heart was ready to leap out of his chest when he barely knew her. He shut his eyes and murmured, “Sach.”
As soon as the word left his lips, Tripti took a step back, and Mridul exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He opened his eyes, expecting an answer — but found her staring back with a blank expression.
“Toh aapko pata chal hi gaya,” she said, making his heart race. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Toh aapko pata chal gaya ki main aapse sirf aapki daulat ke liye shaadi kar rahi hoon. Tabhi aap mere se ‘sach’ sunne aaye hain.”
The room fell silent as she went on, “Aur aisa roz roz thodi na hota hai ki aapke ghar mein itne raees log aate hain rishte ke liye. Maine mauka dekha aur chauka… nahi nahi, chhakka maar diya.”
She looked at him, noting the expressionless mask on his face — but his eyes flickered with something that looked like pain before it vanished again into the hazel depths. Mridul felt a tight, unexplainable discomfort in his chest.
“Kya?” he said, then paused, and asked again, “Aap aisa karne ka soch bhi kaise sakti hain? Kya parivaar ki khushiyaan sirf ek mazaak hain aapke liye?”
Tripti looked at him as if he were the dumbest man alive and hissed, “Kyuki achhai se paise nahi aate, Singhaniya sahab.”
He gave her a skeptical look before shaking his head and turning toward the balcony to leave. Just as he was about to go, her pouty voice floated behind him.
“Game toh khatam kariye, sone jaane se pehle.”
Mridul stopped and turned, frowning.
“Game? Kaunsa game?”
“Arey, aapne hi toh ye saas-bahu panchayat serial wali game shuru ki.” Tripti said innocently.
“Kya keh rahi hain aap? Kaunsa game? Saas-bahu panchayat? Serial?” he asked, baffled.
“Aapne hi toh un panchayati saasoon ki tarah pucha tha ‘Ahem, ahem… sach?’ toh mujhe laga serial ke aage ke dialogues mujhe bolne hain.”
Mridul looked at her like she was a ghost. His mouth opened, closed, opened again — and then gave up. No words could capture the storm of her wit or foolishness — he couldn’t decide which.
Finally, he managed, “Aapko yeh sab mazaak lag raha hai? Aapko pata hai aapke is mazaak ke wajah se do zindagiyon ka mazaak ban jaayega, do parivaaron ka mazaak ban jaayega… aur aap yahan saas-bahu kar rahi hain.”
His voice trembled with restrained anger. He turned to leave — for real this time — but then felt a tug on his right arm. Turning, he saw Tripti, now serious, holding onto his wrist. She said nothing at first, just stood there in front of him, her eyes fixed on him with a quiet intensity.
Then slowly, Tripti lifted her gaze. The man before her — the one who had stolen her heart once with his presence — had now won it with his sincerity. His eyes held something rare — commitment. A quiet promise to protect not just his own but anyone who mattered. She stepped closer, then another, until the gap vanished between them. Holding his hands again, she laced their fingers together. She raised his hand once more — and stopped just short of touching her lips.
In a whisper, she said, “Aap chinta mat kariye. Humne jo bhi kaha aaj khaane ki table pe... woh mazaak tha.”
Mridul’s heart clenched, but he remained silent, letting her finish.
“Aisa sabko lagta hai. Humne mummiyon se is baare mein baat ki thi, toh un sabke liye yeh bas aap pe kiya gaya ek prank tha. Aur sab log humari baat ko mazaak samajh ke humara saath de rahe the. Kal panditji ke paas ek hi jodi ki kundali jaayegi. Toh aap befikr ho sakte hain. Kisi ki zindagi ka mazaak nahi ban raha.”
She paused, watching his face. Seeing no response, she continued. “Sabko yeh mazaak lag raha tha… lekin iska matlab yeh nahi ki yeh sach mein mazaak hai. Humne jo bhi aaj kaha… woh sab sirf aur sirf sach tha, Singhaniya ji.”
And that was it. Mridul felt like he could finally breathe again. Her words were like a soft gust of wind on an autumn evening. He didn’t know what he felt, or how to name it. So instead of speaking, he let his eyes say what his heart couldn’t.
They stood still — caught in some silent staring contest. She, aware of what she was feeling. He, slowly awakening to it.
Their moment was shattered by the shrill ring of Mridul’s phone.
“Hello?” he answered, not checking the caller ID.
“Yamraj ko hello bolna padega, sale. Time dekha hai tune?? 4 bajne wale hain aur tu hai ki wapas aane ka naam hi nahi le raha! Sale papa mummy ya phir… aur bhi bura hone wali bhabhi ke ghar mein se kisi ne agar pakad liya toh samajh lena kya hoga!” Aaryan’s furious voice roared through the speaker — loud enough for Tripti to hear.
But the next part made her burst into uncontrollable laughter.
“Huh?” Mridul said, still dazed.
“SALE WAPAS AA, HUH KE BACHE! WAHAN AUR RUKA TOH TERE BACHE NAHI HONGE. HUH HOH KAR RAHA HAI. WAPAS AA!” and with that, Aaryan hung up.
Tripti giggled as Mridul looked at her, thoroughly flustered. “Woh zara… woh main… w–... jata hoon ab… bye,” he stammered before bolting to the balcony.
With Aaryan’s help, he returned to his room — finally in bed, eyes closed, a shy smile tugging at his lips.
And elsewhere, in a quiet room glowing with warmth, Tripti lay down too — her heart light and dancing — knowing deep within, her heart had made no mistake in choosing Mridul.
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HO GAYA!!!!!!!!
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