Subah 8:45 ke kareeb light jalti hai,
printer ka purana fan halka sa chalta hai,
aur kaafi ka smell floor se upar tak chadh jaati hai.
Aur sabse upar, 7th floor par,
ek chhota sa room tha — jise log bas “storage room” kehte the.
Jo log wahan se guzarte hain,
woh sirf ek hi baat kahte hain:
“Woh room to sirf backup files ke liye hai. Usme kya hai?”
Par woh room…
meri life ka ek chhota sa, lekin bahut gehra raaz ban gaya.
Pehli baar main wahan gaya tha jab maine 7th floor par transfer ho kar pehle hafte kaam kiya.
Routine kaam thi — sirf ek cabinet me kuch documents daalna.
Room chhota, andhera,
aisi feel thi jaise kisi ke old room ka mix‑up hai.
Dekhte dekhte meri aankh,
shelf ke upar pada ek chhota sa paper par ruki.
Na file, na note,
sirf ek plain A4 page,
beech se thoda murjha‑hua sa.
Inhaal main socha:
“Koi purana chhodi hui chhutki, koi chhuhra‑chhuhri note, koi jo bhool gaya.”
Lekin…
pyaali chahiye ho to kabhi kabhi usme se gire huye chhote‑chhote raisin bhi milte hain,
aise hi meri palak ek baar neeche hui,
aur maine us paper ko utha liya.
Andar likha tha:
**“Agar tum yeh padh rahi ho,
to yaad rakhna…
Main wahi kar raha hoon,
Jo tum mujhse bolegi,
Lekin hum dono kabhi face pe nahi kahenge.”**
Aur niche bas ek naam:
“Riya”
Kuchhi seconds ke liye main wahan khada ruka.
Na koi sound,
na koi movement,
sirf meri saans tez chal rahi thi.
Na to maine socha ki ye koi prank hai,
na hi maine socha ki koi office buddy ka joke hai.
Bas ek simple sa sawal dimaag me aaya:
“Riya kaun hai?”
Maine wapas cabinet se niche dekha,
aur wahan ek chhota sa pen pada tha.
Uska colour standard office wala tha,
lekin ek side itni chhori hui thi,
jaise kisi ne chupke se chaba‑chaba ke chhoda ho.
Aur phir ek aur cheez tumhe bataon…
room me ek chhota sa window tha,
jiska curtain hamesha aadha khula rehta tha.
Aaj jab main waha phir gaya,
woh curtain khula hi tha,
par wahan pe koi nahi tha.
Sirf hawa chal rahi thi,
aur ek ajeeb si chhutki meri aankhon ke saamne ghum rahi thi.
Aaj bhi, jab bhi main 7th floor ka raasta leta hoon,
door par se dheere se nazrein jaa rukti hain.
Kabhi‑kabhi main sochta hoon ki:
**Kya Riya wahi thi,
jo roz subah 9:15 par lift me aati thi?
Ya phir wahi,
jo kabhi‑kabhi corridor me headphone me music sunte hue guzarti thi?**
Ya koi aisi ladki,
jo sirf ek chhote sa slip par apna emotion chhod kar chali gayi,
aur woh slip,
ek ajnabi ke haath me aake sidha meri zindagi ki story ban gayi.
Lekin yaar,
sach bataun to…
office me aise kitne Raaz chhup ke rehte hain,
jo kisi ki diary me,
kisi chhote se note me,
ya kisi confidential file ke corner me chhup jaate hain.
Kabhi kabhi log sochte hain ki:
“Office me to sab normal, professional, logical…”
Lekin sach ye hai ki:
Har building, har floor,
har chhote se storage room ke peeche,
koi na koi insaan ka dil,
koi na koi baat,
aur koi na koi chhota sa raaz chhupa hota hai.
Agli baar jab tum subah light jalti dekho,
printer ka purana sound suno,
ya coffee machine se aane wali smell me kho jao,
to ek baar dimaag me yeh soch aa jaaye:
**“Kya maine kabhi kisi chhote se slip,
kisi chhote se note,
ya kisi chhote se closed room me
koi aisa raaz chhupa diya hai,
jise koi aaj tak nahi padh paya?”**
Aur agar tumhara bhi koi aisa chhota sa raaz hai,
jo kisi kaam ka nahi,
par dil se bahut gehra hai…
to comment me likh do:
“RaaZBooks – Mera Personal Raaz”
Aur main use next story ke liye lekar aaunga.
Tumhara, meri baat,
aur ek chhote se office room ka raaz saath mil kar ek aur chapter bana denge.
Comments
Post a Comment