ONE_SHOT (100 PAGE REPLY SPECIAL)
ALTERNATIVE STORY IF IMRAN WAS NOT CUCK
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Garmi apne charam par thi—jaise aasman se aag baras rahi ho. Imran, ek madhyam shahar ke ek bank mein clerk, apni dahej mein mili purani Bajaj Pulsar pe, thaka hara, shaam ko ghar ki taraf jaa raha tha. Kurta paseene se chipak gaya tha, aur bike ka engine pothole pe khans raha tha, jaise bol raha ho, "Bhai, mujhe chhod de."
Pura din bank mein customer forms, manager ke taane, aur lunch break mein politics ne Imran ka dimag chaat liya tha. Signal pe laal batti ne roka. Helmet utara, gehri saans li, par hawa bhi tandoor se nikli lag rahi thi. Sadak ka shor—horn, auto walon ki cheekh-pukaar, aur vendors ka chillana—sab mila ke ek madhosh kar dene wala maahol tha.
Ek chhota ladka, phoolon ka plastic packet latkaye, bola, “Bhaiya, phool le lo, das rupaye ke do.” Imran ne pehle haath se mana kiya, par tabhi bagal mein ek black SUV ruki. Sheeshe se ek aadmi ne haath nikaala, ek gulab khareeda, aur apni patni ko diya. Uski patni ne muskurate hue phool apne baalon mein lagaya. Us nazare ne Imran ke dil mein ek hulchul si macha di.
Noor yaad aayi—uski muskaan, uski narmi bhari aankhen. Imran ne jeb se ek puraani, murji hui pachaas ki note nikali, ladke ko bulaya. "Do de do," kaha, aur phool jeb mein sambhaal ke rakh liye. Signal hara hua, bike phir chali, aur beesi minute ke safar mein har second ek jang thi—gaddhe, traffic, aur khud se ladta hua Imran.
Ghar ke chhote gate pe ruk kar bell bajayi. Do minute baad darwaza khula, aur Noor saamne thi—geele baal, kandhe pe towel, aur ek halki si muskaan.
“Jee... itni jaldi aagaye?” Noor ki awaaz mein sharafat thi, halka sa mazak bhi.
Imran ne jeb se phool nikaale, "Yeh lo, meri taraf se."
Noor ki aankhon mein ek chamak si aayi, phool baalon mein lagaya, aur doosra haath mein le ke halki si muskurahat ke saath boli, "Bahut shukriya... aap yaad rakhte hain, yeh mere liye kaafi hai."
Imran bike lock karke ghar mein ghusa. Chhota sa flat tha—par Noor ke pyar ne use ghar bana diya tha. Saaf cushions, meetha sa room freshener, aur ek deewar pe Noor ka pasandida painting. Bedroom mein bedsheet nayi thi—neeli, kal wali purani se alag. Imran ne socha, "Kab badli?" Par thakan zyada thi, sochne ka waqt nahi mila. Letne ki der thi, aankhen band, aur neend mein kho gaya.
Shaam ke roz wahi thakan, wahi garmi, wahi safar. Ghar pahuncha, bell bajayi. Noor ne darwaza khola—is baar kurti mein, thoda thaka chehra.
“Thak gaye honge aap...” usne dheere se muskurate hue kaha.
Imran ne halka sa sir hilaaya, "Thoda... par tum milti ho toh sab theek lagta hai."
Noor ki aankhon mein sharm thi, “Aapka pyaar kaafi hai...”
Bathroom mein haath dhote hue Imran ki nazar sink ke paas ek chamkile plastic tukde pe padi. Uthaya, dekha, ek ajeeb si meethi khushboo thi—banana jaisi. "Toffee ka wrapper hoga," soch kar jeb mein daal diya. Bedroom mein bedsheet phir badli thi—ab safed, phoolon wali. Par thakan ne sochne nahi diya, woh so gaya.
Kuch din ek hi silsile mein beet gaye. Imran thaka hua ghar aata, Noor muskurate hue milti. Kabhi geele baal, kabhi nayi bedsheet, par kuch alag nahi dikha. Wrapper jaisa kuch nahi, koi ajeeb khushboo nahi. Imran har shak ko apne dil se jadh se nikaal deta. "Garmi hai, roz nahati hogi," sochta. "Ghar saaf rakhti hai, bedsheet badalti hai."
Ek shaam, Noor sofe pe thi, scarf gardan pe, aankhen thaki si. "Sab theek hai?" Imran ne pyaar se poochha.
"Ji... bas thodi thakaan hai," usne dheere se jawab diya. Phir turant kitchen mein chali gayi. Raat ko light jaldi band kar di, "Neend aa rahi hai," kaha. Imran so gaya, par dil mein ek asuvidha thi.
Kuch din aur beet gaye. Noor normal thi, par uski aankhon ki chamak dheere dheere kam hoti ja rahi thi. Imran roz apne shak ko daba deta. Par har din ka gaslighting, har din ka bharosa thoda aur kamzor kar raha tha.
Ek aur shaam, ghar mein ek alag si khushboo thi—tez, maskuline. "Yeh kya smell hai?" Imran ne casually poochha.
"Naya room freshener try kiya," Noor ne turant kaha, phir kitchen chali gayi. Imran sochta raha, "Yeh toh Men's perfume jaisa lag raha hai... par kyun sochu itna?"
Agle din, Imran aaya to Noor phone pe dheemi awaaz mein baat kar rahi thi. "Baad mein baat karte hain," kehke phone rakha.
"Kaun tha?"
"Spam call thi," Noor ne aankhein jhuka kar kaha. Imran ne phone uthaya—number saved tha: "Spam." Dil zor se dhadka, par kuch nahi bola.
Agle kuch din phir theek-thaak guzre. Noor ka behaviur same, lekin Imran ke andar ek toofan pal raha tha. Har chhoti baat ka hisaab, har chehre ki muskaan ka vishleshan—sab kuch. Har raat woh kehta, "Yeh mera waham hai," par woh khud bhi nahi maan pa raha tha.
Akhir ek din, sabr ka baandh toot gaya. Imran ne office se chhutti li, aur sham ko ghar jaldi pahucha. Darwaza andar se band tha. Bell bajayi, koi jawaab nahi. Bike leke do block door ek chai ki dukaan pe chhup gaya, ghar pe nazar rakhta raha.
Aadha ghanta baad, darwaza khula. Gali ke end wale Rahul—bike repair shop wala—bahar nikla. Uska chehra paseene se bhara, kurta dhila, jism se thakan tapak rahi thi. Imran ka khoon khol utha. Par chup raha.
Rahul ke jaane ke baad, Imran ne turant ghar ki taraf daud lagayi. Noor darwaza band karne wali thi, Imran ne pakad liya.
“Noor…”
Noor ne ghabra ke dekha. Chehra thaka hua, baal bikhre, kurti gandi. Imran chupchap bedroom ki taraf chala gaya. Bedsheet gandi thi. Zameen pe teen condom wrappers, ek used condom, aur ek—photo frame pe latka hua. Us frame mein jahan unki shadi ka din muskurata tha.
Imran ne aankh uthayi, Noor ki taraf dekha. “Yeh kya hai, Noor?”
Noor ka chehra pe sharm aur dard dono the. “Imran... mujhe maaf kar dijiye,” usne jhuk ke kaha, “Galti ho gayi... main akeli thi, bewakoofi kar baithi...”
Imran ka gussa dard mein tabdeel ho gaya. “Galti? Kya kami reh gayi thi mere ... pyar me?”
Noor ne roti hui kaha, “Aapka pyaar kaafi hai... main kamzor pad gayi...”
Imran ne jeb se woh pehle din liye phool yaad kiye, aur socha—unmein jo pyaar tha, woh kabhi bhi poora samjha nahi gaya. "Tumne sirf mera bharosa nahi toda... tumne meri izzat ka mazaak bana diya."
Woh photo frame ek aakhri baar dekha, phir darwaza khola aur bahar nikal gaya.
Gali ke end pe theka tha. Neon sign chamak raha tha. Imran andar gaya, ek bottle maangi, aur ek ghoont mein pee gaya. Sadak ka shor, raat ka andhera, aur uske dil ka toofan ek saath usse gher rahe the. Usne aankh band ki, par Noor ka chehra, woh photo, aur woh toota bharosa dikhayi deta raha. Par ek baat saaf thi—Imran ab kabhi khud se jhooth nahi bolega aur usne talaq lene ki thani. Usne haar nahi maani thi—usne apni izzat ke liye ladaai jeeti thi.
