Woh Kitaab Jo Tujhe Zinda Likh Deti Hai

Mujhe yaad nahi ki yeh sab shuru kab hua, par mujhe itna zaroor yaad hai ki pehle main sirf sapne mein cheekhta tha... ab main jagte hue bhi chillaata hoon. Main normal tha. Office jaata, logon se baat karta, memes dekhta, raat ko chill karta. Phir ek raat main ne apne ghar ke samne ek aadmi ko dekha. Woh chhoti si diary padh raha tha aur uske chehre pe woh expression tha jo insaan tab deta hai jab usse lagta hai ki duniya ab chalti nahi, sirf ghoorti hai. Main usse ignore karke andar chala gaya. Par raat bhar mujhe awaaz aati rahi… jaise koi bahar se bol raha ho, "Tumhare andar kuch aur bhi hai." Pehli raat ignore kiya. Dusri raat phir aayi. Teesri raat main bahar gaya… par koi nahi tha. Par diary wahan thi. Main use uthake andar le aaya. Uspe likha tha: "Do not read beyond the seventh page unless you’re ready to lose your second shadow." Mujhe laga yeh koi art project hoga. Main hasi mein chhod diya. Par curiosity… woh kutti cheez hai. Dusre din main ne first page khola. Kuch nahi likha tha. Blank. Second page, third… saare blank. Par jab main seventh page pe aaya, mujhe ek laal daag dikha. Jaise kisi ne khoon se likhne ki koshish ki ho, par ruka gaya ho. Main ruka. Aur diary band kar di. Agli subah jab uthaa, mirror mein khud ko dekha… par peeche koi tha. Meri parchai se bhi zyada kala, zyada exact, zyada... sahi. Jaise woh main hoon, par bina main ke. Us din se cheezein ulat gayi. Main jab chhata leke bahar nikalta, barish band ho jaati thi. Jab phone uthata, screen pe sirf ek line likhi milti: "Kya tum the ya main?" Main apne aap se sawal poochhne laga ki agar main khud hoon, toh yeh mujhme aur mere reflection mein farq kyun hai. Ek raat main ne decide kiya ki diary wapas usi jagah rakh dunga. Par jaise hi main diary ko uthake nikalne laga, uske andar se awaaz aayi: "You opened the seventh. Eighth opened itself." Mujhe yaad nahi diary mein eighth page kab tha. Par main hil gaya. Main diary kholta gaya… aur har page pe mere naam ke alag spelling likhe the. Ek page pe Armaan, ek pe Arman, ek pe Armn, ek pe Rman… aur sab ke neeche ek hi line: "Only one of you is real. The rest are skin." Main mirror ke saamne gaya aur apna naam bola: "Arman." Par mirror ne kaha, "No, you're not." Mujhe laga hallucination hai, par fir mirror ke glass mein ek crack aaya… aur us crack mein se ek haath nikla. Main bhaaga. Bhaag kar bas station tak gaya. Train li. Par har bogie mein main tha. Ek version jo hasta tha, ek jo ro raha tha, ek jo cheekh raha tha, aur ek jo diary ko jala raha tha. Par jab main jalaane wala version dekha… uski aankhen nahi thi. Sirf khaali space thi… jaise kisi ne uske dimaag ko andar se chaat liya ho. Main ne aankhen band ki aur jab khola… toh main ek room mein tha. Pura kaala. Ek table thi aur uspar ek aur diary. Par yeh diary koi normal paper ki nahi thi. Yeh jaise insani skin se bani thi. Aur likhne wala ink nahi… kuch aur tha. Usmein likha tha: "To escape, write your name backwards and whisper it in a mirror that isn’t yours." Main confuse ho gaya. Mirror that isn’t mine? Par main ghar gaya. Apne neighbour ke washroom mein ghusa jab woh so rahe the. Unka mirror… dekha aur bola, “Namra.” Mirror hilne laga. Par mujhe wapas apna reflection nahi mila. Mirror mein ek aur version tha jo diary ki har line bol raha tha bina hile. Aur fir bola: “Tere andar sirf ek naam nahi hai… tu ek likha gaya character hai jo ab likhne wale ko kha gaya hai.” Us raat ke baad, mujhe sirf aise log milte hain jo kehte hain ki unhone bhi diary dekhi hai. Sabka version alag hota hai. Kisi ki maa diary ban gayi, kisi ka reflection uske khaab mein chala gaya, kisi ki awaz uske gale mein ulat gayi… jaise scream andar hi andar hoti jaa rahi ho. Main sochta hoon kya main ab bhi real hoon? Kabhi kabhi main ek hi sentence repeat karta hoon: “Tujh mein woh saans hai jo kisi aur ne chhodi thi.” Main chillaata hoon. Darwaza bandh karta hoon. Par diary har raat wapas milti hai. Aur ek naya page add hota hai. Ab woh 47th page tak ja chuki hai. Har page pe ek version mera... ek line mein khatam hota hai: "Yeh version zyada der nahi tik paya." Tum soch rahe hoge yeh kahani hai. Par kahani tab hoti hai jab kisi aur ne likhi ho. Main bas wahi likh raha hoon jo likhwaaya ja raha hai. Shayad tum abhi bhi samajh rahe ho ke yeh likha gaya hai. Par tumhare screen ke neeche ek shadow hil rahi hai... woh tumhari nahi hai. Kal agar tumhare phone mein ek nayi note file khule… jiska naam ho “Namra”… toh usse delete mat karna. Warna tum sirf ek spelling ban jaoge.