Raat 2:17 - Purana Almirah

Faridabad ke sector 15 mein ek 40 saal purana ghar hai. Maine socha sasta mil raha hai, le lete hain. Shift hone ke pehle din hi mummy ne kaha, “Beta, storeroom wala almirah mat kholna. Pehle pandit se pooja karwa lenge.”

Main 49 ki ho chuki hoon, in sab baaton mein kahan maanti. Raat 2:17 pe neend khuli. Ghar mein koi AC nahi, par kamra bilkul thanda tha. Jaise kisi ne barf rakh di ho. Aur awaaz aa rahi thi... khat... khat... khat.

Storeroom se.

Maine torch uthaya aur darwaza khola. Almirah ke andar se awaaz aa rahi thi. Purana sheesham ka almirah, jisme bada sa peetal ka tala latka tha. Par tala khula tha. Maine darwaza kheench diya.

Andar kapde nahi the. Andar ek aur darwaza tha. Chhota, sirf 3 foot ka. Aur us darwaze par mehndi se chhote-chhote haathon ke nishan the. Taaze. Jaise abhi koi bachcha andar se haath maar raha ho.

Tabhi mere peeche se awaaz aayi, “Band kar do beti.”

Palat kar dekha. Mummy thi. Par... mummy to Faridabad mein hai hi nahi. Woh pichle saal hi guzar gayi thi.

Mummy muskurayi. Uske daant kaale the. “Yahan har ghar mein ek almirah hoti hai, beti. Jisme hum rehte hain. Tumne darwaza khol diya... ab hum tumhare ghar mein rahenge.”

Main cheekhna chahti thi, par awaaz nahi nikli. Almirah ke andar wala chhota darwaza dheere-dheere khul raha tha. Andar andhera nahi tha. Andar mera hi bedroom tha. Aur bed par main so rahi thi.

Tab samajh aaya... main storeroom mein kabhi gayi hi nahi. Main bed par hi hoon. Aur almirah... almirah mere bedroom mein aa chuki hai.

Khat... khat... khat.

Ab awaaz almirah se nahi, mere pichhe se aa rahi hai.

Dekhoon kya?