Qutubganj Ka Shraapit Kabristan Rehan Ki Sachi Horror Kahani | Sarkata Wali Raat

Mera naam Rehan hai. Main Lucknow ke ek purane ilaake Qutubganj mein rehta hoon. Aaj jo kahani main suna raha hoon, wo kahani nahi hai. Wo ek raat thi jo mere andar zinda hai. Agar tum isse raat ko padh rahe ho, to ek baar soch lo… raat kabhi sirf raat nahi hoti. Teen saal pehle, Ramzan ke din the. Raat mein sehri ke baad main apne dost Danish ke ghar se laut raha tha. Har din ki tarah rickshaw pakadta, lekin us din koi bhi rickshaw waala Qutubganj ke purane kabristan ke sarkate se le jaane ko tayyar nahi tha. Ek ne to seedha haath jod ke mana kar diya. Bola, “Bachpan mein udhar gaya tha. Jahan gaya tha, wapas woh main nahi aaya.” Maine hans ke kaha, “Bhoot nahi hote chacha.” Usne sirf itna bola, “Bhoot nahi... lekin kuch aur zaroor hota hai.” Main paidal chal diya. Raat 2:37 ho chuki thi. Hawa mein sardi nahi thi, lekin kuch ajeeb sa sannata tha. Us raaste mein kuch alag hi tha — jaise mitti kisi purani cheekh ko dabaaye baithi ho. Kabristan ke paas aaya to dekha loha ka gate aadha khula hua tha, aur ek kutta uske samne bilkul chupchaap baitha tha. Jaise kisi ki izzat kar raha ho. Uski aankhon mein kuch tha... dar nahi... jaise usne kab kaafi kuch dekh liya ho. Main aage badha, aur wahi se sab shuru hua. Pehla kadam kabristan ke sarkate pe rakha hi tha ki hawa bilkul band ho gayi. Barish ruk gayi thi, lekin mitti se geeli si jali hui badboo aa rahi thi. Raasta khud mein jeeta hua mehsoos ho raha tha. Jahan roshni honi chahiye thi, wahan andhera tha. Aur jahan andhera hota hai, wahan kuch dikha... ek safed saari wali aurat, seedhi khadi. Uska chehra nahi dikha, bas pair nahi the. Aasmaan se bijli chamki aur ek pal ke liye sab roshni mein aaya — lekin us aurat ka saya zameen pe nahi tha. Main ruka, dil dhadak raha tha, lekin socha koi mazaak hoga. Jaise hi aage badha, peeche se awaaz ayi... “Rehhaaaan...” ek cheekh nahi thi, ek foonk thi, jo mere kaan ke andar ghus gayi. Main mud ke dekhta hi, wo aurat mere bilkul paas thi. Uska chehra aadha jala hua, aankh mein khoon bhar ke baahar aa raha tha. Uske honton se awaaz nahi, lekin uski aankhon se lafz nikal rahe the. "Tu bhi jhooth bolega jaise wo bola?" Main bhaaga. Paon zameen pe nahi lag rahe the. Kabristan ke andar ghus gaya, aur wahi gir gaya ek purani tooti hui qabar ke paas. Qabar ke upar mera naam likha tha... “Rehan Ahmed, wafat: 13 May.” Yehi to raat thi... 13 May. Mera dimaag chakkar kha gaya. Peeche se mitti hilne lagi. Qabar khul rahi thi. Uske andar se haath nikle, lekin insani nahi the. Inmein ungliyaan zyada thi, aur nakhun kaale. Wo haath mere pair pakad ke andar khinchne lage. Main cheekha, lekin awaaz mere gale mein atak gayi. Kisi ne meri gardan ke paas se saans li... jaise koi zinda lash ho. Ek chhoti si awaaz mein bola, “Wapas aa gaya... ab yahin reh.” Achanak se sab kuch chup ho gaya. Main qabar ke andar tha. Andhera, damp, lekin zinda. Main cheekhta raha. Fir kuch jalne ki badboo ayi. Saans lete hi mehsoos hua, jaise andar kuch jala diya gaya ho. Phir roshni chamki. Upar se kisi ne haath diya... Danish tha. Main uth gaya, bhaag kar usse gale laga. Usne puchha, “Tu gaya kaha tha, 3 din se log tujhe dhoondh rahe hain.” Maine kaha, “Main to abhi gaya tha.” Usne sir hilaaya, “Rehan... teri maa ne teri photo qabar ke gate pe latka di thi.” Hum wapas chale gaye. Lekin raat bhar mujhe neend nahi aayi. Main room ke kone mein baitha raha, chhati pe bojh sa mehsoos hota raha. Agli raat, phone bajta raha. Uthaya nahi. Subah dekha to unknown number se sirf ek voice note tha. Sirf ek lafz usmein tha — “Wapas.” Main ne delete kar diya. Par us raat sapna aaya, main fir wahi qabar mein hoon. Lekin is baar main us aurat ko gale laga raha hoon. Uske hothon se lahu tapak raha tha... aur uske peeth pe likha tha — “Maa.” Maine usse dhakka diya. Usne meri taraf dekha aur bola, “Main hi to tujhe wapas laayi hoon.” Phir har raat ek hi sapna aata. Main qabar mein, uske paas. Har baar uska chehra alag hota. Kabhi meri maa, kabhi Danish, kabhi main khud. Phir mujhe asli darr samajh aaya — wo aurat koi aur nahi thi... wo meri hi rooh thi, jo kabristan mein reh gayi thi. Main sirf ek khaali jism tha, jo wapas aa gaya tha. Aur us raat se, main khud se bhaagta raha hoon. Aaj 3 saal baad main fir us sarkate se guzra. Socha ho sakta hai sab bhram ho. Lekin raat 2:37 pe wahi awaaz... “Rehhaaannn...” Phir bijli chamki... aur is baar main us aurat ko nahi dekha... main ne khud ko dekha... qabar ke andar... aankhen khuli... aur chehra muskara raha tha. Main bhaaga. Lekin har kadam pe mitti ne mera naam pukara. Har ped ki chaon mein mera saya chhup gaya. Har hawa ki gardish mein meri cheekh gunjti hai. Ab main kisi aur ka nahi raha. Ab main ek kahani hoon. Jo sunega, wo bhi is raaste se guzrega. Aur jo guzrega... wo kabhi ghar nahi lautega. Tumne kahani to padhi... ab awaaz sunne ke liye tayyar ho jao. Raat hone wali hai. Aur us qabar ka darwaza khula hai.