Pretika › Yakshini Stories › ज़मीन के नीचे दो आँखें
Baaki Jo Reh Gaya
Pretika · Yakshini Stories · 5 मिनट
- Writer
- Pretika
- Story
- ज़मीन के नीचे दो आँखें
- Chapter
- 10 of 10
- Category
- Yakshini Stories
- Reading time
- 5 min
- Words
- 831
- Language
- Hindi (हिंदी)
- Price
- Free to read
Arjun Khatri ne guide ka kaam chhhod diya. Chandanpur ki kisi story mein usne hissa lena band kiya. Ek saal baad — Jodhpur mein — usne ek chai ki dukaan kholi. Logo ne kaha woh badal gaya tha. Zyada chup. Zyada sochta. Koi pucha agar koi buri yadein hai toh — woh muskuraya. Kuch nahi bola.
Raat ko woh kabhi kabhi jagta tha. Kisi wajah se nahi. Sirf — jaag jaata. Andhare mein baitha rehta. Aur ek baar — sirf ek baar — jab woh baith ke chhath ko dekh raha tha, chhath par ek lambi chaya thi.
Teen unglion wali.
Woh socha apni aankhen bandh karega.
Kari bhi.
Subah uthke dekha.
Chhath saaf.
Woh chai banaayi. Dukaan kholi. Customers aaye. Din gaya.
Par raat ko phir —
Uski palm par. Left palm. Ek halka sa nishaan.
Teen unglion ka. Bilkul halka. Jaise koi ne dheere se chua ho.
Woh nishaan mita nahi.
Kabhi nahi mita.
❖ ❖ ❖
Vikram Sinha ki doosri story aai — "Chandanpur Ki Zameen Mein Kya Hai". Yeh bhi viral hua. Uss story mein unhone pura likha — angoothi, kaghaz, naam — sab. Log padhke bhool gaye. Internet ka kaam hi yahi hai. Ek raat ki cheekh, ek hafte ki TRP, ek mahine ka bhool jaana.
Par story ke comments mein — ek comment tha. Koi account, bina profile picture, bina history:
"Naam nahi tha."
Sirf yeh.
Vikram ne block kiya. Report kiya. Account vanish hua.
Teen din baad — naya account. Alag naam. Alag picture.
Phir wahi comment.
"Naam nahi tha."
Aur ek photo. Chandanpur ki. Gali ki. Din ki. Sundar. Normal.
Background mein — ped ke peeche — ek figure.
Kaale kapde. Lambe baal. Peethe ki taraf.
Vikram ne screenshot liya. Forensic expert ko bheja. Expert ne kaha — shadow angles sahi nahi. Light source se match nahi karta. Figure photoshop hai. Ya koi aur manipulation.
Vikram ne haan ki.
Expert sahi tha.
Shayad.
Ya shayad woh cheez thi jiske liye shadow angles match nahi karte. Jiske liye light source matter nahi karta. Jo hawa mein khadi hoti hai. Jiska koi physical base nahi hota.
Jinn gayi thi.
Par Chandanpur mein bhi kuch tha. Zameen ke neeche. 1947 se pehle ka. Jo Ratan Das ke wahan aane se bhi pehle ka tha.
Yakshini abhi bhi thi.
Woh kabhi nahi gayi.
Zameen ki cheez hoti hai. Aur zameen... zameen nahi jaati.
❖ ❖ ❖
Zara Hussain ne photography band nahi ki. Kyun karti. Uski livelihood thi. Uska pyaar tha. Photos mein ab woh chehra nahi tha. Background clear tha. Camera sahi tha.
Ek raat — koi khas wajah nahi — woh ek photo edit kar rahi thi. Ek normal photo. Ek park ki. Dilli ka. Suraj dhalta hua. Lohe ka jhula. Bache nahi the wahan — sirf ek adult baithi thi bench par.
Zara ne zoom kiya.
Adult — aurat — ke kapde kaale the. Baal lambe. Seedhe. Kaale.
Face nahi dikhta tha. Peethe ki taraf thi.
Zara ne photo ki properties dekhi.
Date — aaj ki.
Time — 6:47 PM.
Zara ne khidki dekhi. Bahar.
6:47 PM. Dhalta suraj.
Zara ne jacket uthaayi. Baahir gayi. Park gayi. Bench ke paas gayi.
Bench khaali thi.
Zara khadi rahi. Ek minute.
Hawa aayi. Sheesham ke patte hile.
Aur ek second ke liye — sirf ek second — ek khusboo aayi.
Attar. Rud'h dhoop. Arab ki khushboo.
Phir hawa badli. Normal Delhi ki hawa. Dhool. Petrol. Chaai.
Zara wapas gayi.
Ghar mein. Kaafi banaayi. Laptop khola. Photo delete karne ki koshish ki. File corrupt ho gayi thi.
Recover nahi hoi.
Par jab usne backup folder check kiya — wo photo wahan thi. Alag naam se. Auto- saved.
Zara ne photo band ki.
Chair par baithi.
Saans li.
Khidki ke bahar peepal ka ped tha — jism 15 saal se tha wahan.
Aaj uski ek nai daali thi. Nayi. Taza.
Seedha khidki ki taraf jhukti.
Jaise khidki kholne ka intezaar tha.
Zara ne khidki band ki. Parda khaincha.
"Nahi," usne kaha. Seedha. Khali kamre mein. Khud se. Ya kisi aur se.
"Nahi."
Koi jawab nahi aaya.
Woh so gayi.
Subah uthke — parda tha. Khidki band thi. Peepal ka ped wahan tha.
Ek daali jhuki. Thodi aur.
Zara ne soch aaj khidki nahi kholegi.
Daali wahan rahi.
Intezaar mein.
❖ ❖ ❖
Chandanpur — Rajasthan Government Records mein — abhi bhi "Abandoned / Evacuated" hai.
Koi access nahi. No-go zone. Fine of Rs. 50,000 if found trespassing.
Lekin Google Maps par — satellite view — woh gali dikhti hai. Woh peepal ke ped dikhte hain.
Aur ek ped par — bilkul upar —
Ek figure hai.
Peele kapde. Lambe baal. Peethe ki taraf.
Google Maps ka photo 2021 ka hai.
Last updated: 6 months ago.
Figure abhi bhi wahan hai.
Same position.
Same ped.
Google ne kuch nahi kiya. Shayad notice nahi hua. Shayad kisi ne report nahi kiya. Ya shayad jinhone report kiya — unhe woh page load karne mein koi problem aayi. Ya unki photo kisi folder mein aa gayi jise they didnt remember saving.
Ya unhe ek raat neend nahi aai.
Ya unki palm par —
❖ ❖ ❖
Chandanpur mein raat hoti hai tab bhi.
Chandanpur mein suraj nikalta hai tab bhi.
Zameen abhi bhi garm hai. Andar se.
Peepal ke ped abhi bhi khade hain.
Kuaan abhi bhi band hai.
Aur jo zameen ke neeche hai — 1947 se pehle ka — woh abhi bhi wahan hai. Ek din koi aayega. Journalist ya photographer ya guide ya tourist. Ek din. Chandanpur ka darwaza khula hai.
Hamesha se.
Hamesha ke liye.