Shraapit Gudiya Uski Muskurahat Mein Chhupi Thi Maut

Mera naam Hamza hai aur aaj aapko yeh kahani sunane ja raha hoon jo maine khud mehsoos ki hai, jise main kabhi bhool nahi sakta. Yeh baat kuch saal pehle ki hai jab main apne college ke dino mein summer vacation ke liye apne dada ke gaon gaya tha. Gaon ka naam tha Noorabad, ek chhota sa, purana sa, lekin shaant aur hamesha se ajeeb si khamoshi mein dooba hua gaon. Mere dada ka purana haveli jaise ghar tha, bade bade kamre, purani deewar, aur har kone mein itna sannata ke raat ko saans ki awaaz bhi darati thi. Jab main pahucha toh sab log thoda hairan hue, kyunki main bina kisi ko bataye achanak chala gaya tha. Dadi ne pyaar se gale lagaya, lekin unki aankhon mein ek chhupi si bechaini thi jo pehle kabhi nahi dekhi thi. Pehle kuch din toh sab theek tha, lekin fir ek raat, jab bijli chali gayi aur main chhat pe so raha tha, mujhe neeche se ek ajeeb si awaaz sunai di. Jaise koi bachchi haas rahi ho — lekin woh hansna kuch zyada hi theek nahi lag raha tha, ekdam jaise koi dard mein haas raha ho. Main ne neeche jhaank ke dekha toh andhera tha, kuch samajh nahi aaya. Maine socha shayad mera waham hai. Agle din subah dadi se poocha ke gaon mein koi chhoti bachchi hai kya, toh unhone thoda ruk ke kaha ke nahi beta, yahan toh sab ke bacche bade ho chuke hain ya sheher mein hain. Unka yeh jawab sun ke mujhe thoda ajeeb laga. Main apne aap se keh raha tha ke shayad mujhe neend mein kuch sunayi diya ho. Phir teesri raat, jab main library wale kamre mein sota tha, mujhe almari ke andar se kuch kharakne ki awaaz aayi. Main darr gaya. Dheere se uth kar almari ka darwaza khola, toh andar ek chhoti si wooden box rakhhi thi jisme ek gudiya thi. Bohot hi purani, lekin aankhon mein kuch aisa tha jaise zinda ho. Us gudiya ka chehra itna real lag raha tha ke main pal bhar ke liye thithak gaya. Maine socha yeh sirf ek purani gudiya hai, isme darne wali koi baat nahi hai. Lekin jab main use wapas band karne laga, tab mujhe laga jaise uski aankhein meri taraf ghoor rahi hain. Agli subah main ne dadi se us gudiya ke baare mein poocha. Unka chehra ekdum safed pad gaya. Woh chup ho gayin, fir kuch der baad boli, "Hamza beta, uss gudiya ko kabhi haath mat lagana... woh humein nahi chahiye thi, lekin kisi wajah se use humne sambhal ke rakha hai." Main hairan ho gaya. Dadi ka yeh andaz pehli baar dekha tha. Unke kehne ke baad maine us gudiya ke baare mein kisi se kuch nahi poocha, lekin raat ko mere sapne mein wahi gudiya aayi. Ek andhera kamra, jahan ek chhoti si ladki ro rahi thi, uske haath mein wahi gudiya thi. Main uske paas gaya, lekin usne meri taraf dekha toh uski aankhein kaali aur khaali thi — bina pupil ke. Uski cheekh ne mujhe neend se jaga diya. Mujhe lagne laga ke kuch toh hai is gudiya mein. Main library ke purane papers aur diaries dekhne laga. Ek purani diary mili, dada ke likhe hue notes the. Usmein likha tha ke 1947 ke aas paas is gaon mein ek khandar se woh gudiya mili thi jise ek chhoti ladki lekar bhatak rahi thi. Gaon ke logon ne kaha ke woh ladki mar chuki hai, lekin uske baad bhi log use dekha karte the. Jo log us gudiya ko chhute, unke saath ajeeb haadse hote. Main aur curious ho gaya. Maine socha mujhe us gudiya ka raaz maloom karna hi hoga. Ek raat main chupke se library gaya aur box se gudiya nikaal ke usse dekhta raha. Tabhi mujhe uske kapdon mein ek chhoti si kagaz ki purani patti mili. Uspe likha tha: “Jab tum mujhe dekhoge, main tumhein dekhungi. Jab tum mujhe bulaoge, main aaoongi. Jab tum mujhe chhod doge... main kabhi nahi jaungi.” Mera jism kaanp gaya. Main turant us gudiya ko box mein daal kar band karne laga, lekin darwaza khud se band ho gaya. Mujhe laga koi hawa hai, lekin kamre ke andar koi khidki hi nahi thi. Phir mujhe laga ke main akela nahi hoon. Peeche mur kar dekha toh koi nahi tha, lekin ek thandi saans meri gardan par mehsoos hui. Main daudta hua bahar aaya. Agli subah maine gaon ke ek buzurg se baat ki, jo dada ke dost the. Unhone kaha, “Beta Hamza, woh gudiya kisi bachi ki nahi, ek bad-dua hai. Us bacchi ka naam Laila tha. Uski maa pe kisi ne jadu kiya tha, aur us bachi ko us gudiya mein bandh kar diya gaya. Jab se woh mara, uski rooh us gudiya ke saath chipak gayi.” Main dar gaya lekin maine faisla kiya ke is gudiya se chutkaara paana hoga. Maine ek baba ko bulaya jo jinnat aur atmaon ke kaam jaante the. Unhone gudiya ko dekhte hi kaha, “Isme sirf rooh nahi, bad-dua bhi hai. Agar ise jalaya, toh koi na koi nuksan zaroor hoga. Tumhara kisi apne ka.” Mujhe samajh nahi aaya kya karun. Dadi ki tabiyat bhi us din se kharab hone lagi. Baba ne kaha, “Is gudiya ko wapas usi jagah le jao jahan se aayi thi.” Dada ki diary mein khandar ka zikr tha — jungle ke us paar ek purani imarat thi jahan koi nahi jaata tha. Main raat ko akela us gudiya ko le kar chala. Andhera tha, lekin meri niyat saaf thi. Jab main us khandar ke paas pahucha, har ped se lagta tha jaise koi mujhe dekh raha hai. Us imarat ke andar jaake maine ek purani jali hui jhoola dekha. Jaise hi main uske paas gaya, gudiya ne apne aap aankhen khol di. Ek dum se hawa tez chalne lagi. Gudiya mere haath se gir ke jhoolay pe ja bethi. Mujhe laga main pagal ho gaya hoon. Fir maine usse pucha, "Tum kya chahti ho?" Ek halki si awaaz aayi — ek chhoti ladki ki, “Mujhe ghar jana hai.” Main ne pucha, “Kahan hai tumhara ghar?” Usne kaha, “Jahan meri maa ne mujhe chhoda tha… zameen ke neeche.” Wahi pe ek chhota sa gaddha tha, jaise koi purani qabar. Baba ne kaha tha, us rooh ko uski jagah lautana hoga. Main ne gudiya ko us qabar mein rakha, phir mitti daal di. Jaise hi main ne aakhri mitti daali, hawa ruk gayi. Jungle ka sannata wapas aaya. Mujhe laga sab kuch khatam ho gaya. Main wapas haweli aaya, dadi ki tabiyat thik hone lagi. Maine library ka kamra band kar diya. Gudiya ki jagah ab sirf ek khaali box tha. Lekin kahani yahin khatam nahi hoti. Main sheher wapas aaya, lekin har raat mujhe sapne aane lage — wahi ladki, wahi gudiya. Kabhi haas rahi hoti, kabhi mujhe bula rahi hoti. Baba ne kaha tha, “Usse tumne chhoda nahi, usne tumhe chuna hai.” Tabhi se main har saal ek baar us gaon jata hoon, us qabar par ek diya jalata hoon, taake uski rooh wapas na aaye. Main nahi jaanta ke main sahi kiya ya galat. Lekin itna keh sakta hoon — agar kabhi kisi purani gudiya ko dekho, aur uski aankhon mein zyada sachchai nazar aaye... toh sambhal jana. Shayad woh sirf khilona nahi hai. Mera naam Hamza hai, aur yeh thi meri kahani — ek darawani gudiya ki, jiska raaz aaj bhi mere saath zinda hai.