Zaykh - Jo Sunta Hai Mit Jaata Hai

Mera naam Aarav hai, aur aaj jo main sunane ja raha hoon, woh kahani nahi, woh ek infection hai. Jo kaan se andar jaake dimaag ki naso mein sab kuch kaala kar deta hai. Is kahani ko sunne ke baad agar tujhe neend aa gayi… toh samajh le ke tu insaan nahi raha. Yeh sab kuch ek waqt shuru hua jab main ek flat mein shift hua tha. Flat 904, Devlok Heights. Naam toh Devlok, lekin har raat aisi lagti thi jaise koi mujhe andheron mein ghaseet raha ho. Pehli raat se hi awaazein aane lagi thi. TV band tha, lekin kisi aurat ke hanste hue bolne ki awaaz aati thi—ek hi line baar baar: "Tu andar ghus gaya hai. Bahar ab tu nahi niklega." Main sochta tha hallucination hai. Par doosre din jab main bathroom gaya, toh mirror pe likha tha: "Tumne meri jagah le li." Khoon se nahi, kuch aur se likha tha… kuch baasi, kaali, thick liquid. Main haath se saaf karne gaya, toh mirror se haath andar ghus gaya. Mirror ne mujhe andar kheench liya. Main chillaya, lekin awaaz andar hi reh gayi. Aur phir mere saamne tha ek makaan… wahi flat… lekin ulta. Sab kuch ceiling pe tha, gravity khatam thi. Aur uss jagah sirf ek insaan tha—main. Lekin bina aankhon ke. Sirf sockets. Woh bol nahi raha tha… uska gala kata hua tha. Usne mujhe ek box diya. Aur kaha: "Kholo mat, jab tak tu khud se nafrat na karle." Main wapas mirror se baahar aaya. Sab theek tha… par sirf mujhe lag raha tha. Har jagah ek naya smell hota tha—geela, sadh chuka insaan jaisa. Phir raat ko 3:04 baje mere phone pe ek message aaya: "Tere neeche waale flat mein koi zinda nahi hai. Kabhi tha hi nahi. Phir bhi awaaz aati hai, kyun?" Main neeche gaya. Flat 804… knock kiya. Darwaza khula—aur mujhe ek aur main mila. Lekin is baar woh chillate hue bhaaga aur diwaar mein ghus gaya. Diwaar ki paint us jagah se hil rahi thi jaise andar se koi jaanwar ragad raha ho. Mujhe neend nahi aati thi. Aankh band karta, toh wahi box dikhai deta. Main kholta nahi tha. Par 7th din, mere haath ne meri marzi ke bina box khol diya. Us box ke andar sirf ek chhoti si ungli thi… chhoti bacchi ki. Lekin woh hil rahi thi. Ungli ke saath ek chitthi thi: "Isse pehchaan. Yeh teri beti ki hai. Tujhe yaad nahi, par tu pehle bhi yahaan aaya tha." Main to kabhi baap bhi nahi bana… Ya ban chuka hoon? Waqt hil gaya tha. Main roz ek naye version mein uthta. Kabhi mere paas mooh nahi hota. Kabhi aankhein hoti hi nahi. Kabhi meri chest khuli hoti thi aur andar sirf ghaas hoti thi. Ek baar mere pet mein ek ghanti thi… jo bajti thi jab bhi main jhooth bolta. Aur raat bhar bajti thi. Mujhe samajh nahi aaya ke kya sach tha. Ek raat jab main utha… toh main Flat 904 ke andar nahi, ek hospital mein tha. Har ward mein main hi pada tha. Har version mein kuch na kuch missing. Ek version mein sirf aadha sir. Ek mein haath ulte. Ek mein aankhon mein se spiders nikal rahe the. Aur ek version… usne mujhe dekha. Seedha aankhon mein. Aur bola: "Tu mera bhagoda hai. Tu sach se bhaaga tha. Isiliye tujhe wapas bheja gaya." Us din ke baad sab kuch normal ho gaya. Ek dum silence. Flat mein awaaz nahi. Mirror saaf. Phone quiet. Lekin har raat, 3:04 pe, ek nayi chitthi milti thi. Aaj ki chitthi kehta hai: "Ek nayi kahani likh. Usmein apna naam mat likh. Apni yaadon mein poison ghusa de." Mujhe nahi pata main ab kaun hoon. Main insaan hoon ya kahani? Ya woh box hoon jo khula nahi tha? Ya woh flat jahan koi nahi rehta, par sab rehte hain? Ek baat pakki hai—agar tu yeh yahaan tak sun chuka hai… Toh tu bhi is kahani mein likha jaa chuka hai. Next baar jab tu apne ghar ke mirror ke paas jaayega… Zara dekh lena uske kone pe ek chhoti si lakeer hogi. Ungli ke barabar. Aur agar woh lakeer hilti dikh jaye… Samajh le—box ab tere paas aa gaya hai. Aur usmein kya hai? Tere khud ke kaat ke rakhe hue hissaay.