jannat ke pattay...[Leaves Of Paradise]

part 69

"Hain ke agar koi un par poora na utre to woh us ki grading bohat neeche kar dete hain."

"What ever!" Woh abhi pasta ke patile mein qeema aur sauce andelay raha tha. Phir unko achhi tarah mix kar ke usne use dum par rakh diya aur sang ki toonti khol kar haath dhoney laga. Woh samjhi, ab woh us ke paas aakar baithay ga, magar woh haath dho kar ab sara phaila o sametne laga tha. Jhoote bartan, sabziyon ke chilke, khali shapar. Woh jaldi se uthi.

"Main kar deti hoon."

"Please tum baithi raho, jitni phoohar tum ho, main janta hoon. Agar tum ne meri madad karvayi to do ghante lag jayenge, jabke main akela karun to do minute mein ho jayega."

"Theek hai, khud hi karo." Woh qadray khufgi se kehti hui dobara baith gayi.

Aur waqai, usne do teen minute mein har cheez apni jagah par rakh di. Chand ek bartan jo pakane ke doran melay hue thay, woh dhal kar stand mein lag gaye aur slib chamka diye gaye, woh banda kamal ka tha.

"Tum kab se restaurant chala rahe ho?"

"Ab to bohat arsa ho gaya hai. Acha main bartan lagata hoon, tum Sulaiman mamoon ko bula lao, unho ne bhi khana nahi khaya tha."

"Aray haan!" Woh mathey pe haath marti uthi, phir nigaah us ke silvar smartphone par pari jo meez pe rakha tha.

"Tumhein pata hai. DJ ko tumhara phone bohat pasand tha. Woh hamesha kehti thi ke jihan se kahna, jab apna yeh ek do laakh ka phone phenkna ho to Sp inanji ke bahar hi phenke." Woh udasi se muskura kar boli to woh hans diya.

"Waise yeh us ke lagaye gaye se kahin zyada mehnga hai."

"Acha." Usay zara hairat hui. "Itna qeemti phone kyun khareed aata?"

"Khareed na tha, gift mila tha. Special gift!" Woh muskura kar jaise kuch yaad kar ke bola.

"Kis ne diya tha?"

Someone special! Acha jao. Abhi mamoon ko bula lao!"

Woh tal gaya to woh shanay uchakati wahan se chali aayi. Abba ka darwaza baja kar, wahi se bula kar woh wapas lounge mein aayi to woh wahan usay meez par platein aur glasses rakh raha tha. Woh baray sofa par bethi aur remote utha kar TV chala diya."Jis waqt Abba zara hairan se bahar aaye, jihan pasta ki dish uthane kitchen se nikal raha tha, aur woh maze se apne kaam-dar jode mein tang par tang rakhe bethe channel badal rahi thi.

"Abba!" Unko dekh kar jaldi se uthi aur Jihan ke haath se tray li.

"Sorry Mamoon! Humne aapko utha diya. Aap ne khana nahi khaya tha, so..." Usne unki taraf plate badhai.

"Thank you." Abba ne qadray na samjhi se khana dekha aur phir haya ko. "Yeh tumne banaya hai?"

"Nahi, Jihan ne!" Woh muskurahat di.

"By the way Mamoon! Yeh Italian recipe nahi hai, zara desi style mein banaya hai jaise mami banati hain. Aapko pasta mein qeema pasand hai na, mami ne bataya tha mujhe."

Sulaiman Sahab chonk kar use dekhne lage. Usko dil tornay ka fun aata tha to tote hue dilon ko dobara jor kar unhein jeetnay ka fun bhi aata tha.

Woh apni jagah bethe rah gayi. Usay ab ehsas hua tha ke woh raf aur taf sa banda to bhu ka bhi so jata magar raat ke ek baje agar usne yeh ittimaam kiya tha to sirf aur sirf abba ke liye, kyunke usay yaad tha ke abba ne khana nahi khaya aur usay shayad ehsas hua tha ke woh us se zara khinchay khinchay se rehte hain. Aur haya ko khud ab yaad aya tha ke qeema wala pasta abba ka pasandida tha. Woh jaanti thi ke is amal se Jihan ne apne aur abba ke darmiyan haail baraf ko pighlane ki koshish ki thi.

Pasta bohat maze ka tha. Munh mein jate hi ghul jane wala. Sulaiman Sahab ne tareef nahi ki, magar unke chehre se zahir tha ke unhein apne aynay kiya jana acha laga tha. Woh khud bhi bohat shauq se khara tha. DJ ke baad yeh pehla khana tha, jo usne dil se khaya tha.