College ke corridors subah se hi shor se bhare hue the.
Kahin laughter tha, kahin arguments, kahin kisi ke headphones se nikalti music ki awaaz.
Par Ishika Shekhawat ke liye ye sab sirf noise tha—uska focus sirf apne notes par tha… ya shayad apne dil par.
“Relax karo, Ishika,” uski best friend ne haste hue kaha,
“Presentation hai, war nahi.”
Ishika halki si muskurayi, par ungliyaan notebook ke kone ko abhi bhi kas ke pakde hue thi.
Usse darr presentation ka nahi tha—use darr tha spotlight ka.Spotlight hamesha questions laati hai.
Aur Shekhawat family questions afford nahi karti.
Class ke darwaaze se jab Kabir andar aaya, Ishika ne bina dekhe hi mehsoos kar liya.
Uski presence hamesha hawa badal deti thi—na dramatic, na loud—bas shaant.
Kabir Mehta ne backbench chhod kar aaj front row choose ki.
Shayad jaan-boojh kar.
“Good luck,” usne dheere se kaha jab Ishika podium ki taraf badhi.
Bas do shabd the, par Ishika ka dil ek pal ke liye bhool gaya dhadakna.
Presentation smoothly khatam hui.
Claps mile, professor ne appreciate kiya—par Ishika ki nazar last row par ja kar ruk gayi.
Wahan khade the Veer Shekhawat.
Black shirt, sleeves folded, aankhon me wahi silent authority.
College me uska hona unusual tha—aur Ishika ke liye alarming.
Veer ki nazar Ishika par nahi, balki Kabir par thi.
Ek pal ke liye.
Bas ek pal—
par us pal me kaafi kuch tha.
Class khatam hote hi Ishika seedha canteen ki taraf gayi.
Usse pata tha, Veer aaj zyada questions karega.
Kabir bhi peeche aa gaya.
“Tumhare bhai…” Kabir ne sentence adhoora chhod diya.
Ishika ruk gayi.
“Please,” usne seedha kaha,
“Unke baare me college me baat mat karo.”
Kabir ne sir jhuka diya. “Samajh gaya.”
Canteen ke table par dono chup chaap baithe rahe.
Do cups coffee, ek silence.
“Tum hamesha aise rehti ho,” Kabir ne kaha,
“Jaise kuch kehna chahti ho… par bol nahi paati.”
Ishika ne coffee ghoomate hue kaha,
“Kabhi-kabhi chup rehna safe hota hai.”
Kabir usse dekhte hue muskuraya—
par us muskurahat me curiosity thi, judgement nahi.
Shaam ko Rudra college ke ground me tha.
Basketball court par uska gussa clearly dikh raha tha.
Har shot aggressive tha—
jaise wo kisi aur ko nahi, apni frustration ko target kar raha ho.
“Tara aa rahi hai,” kisi ne kaha.
Rudra ne ball drop kar di.
Tara Chauhan jab saamne aayi, toh confidence uske steps me tha.
“Tum hamesha fight karke hi baat kyun karte ho?” usne seedha poocha.
Rudra ne hansi daba ke kaha,
“Kyuki mujhe aur kuch aata hi nahi.”
“Seekh lo,” Tara ne kaha.
“College hai, battlefield nahi.”
Rudra ne use dekha—
aur pehli baar kisi ne usse bina dare tok diya tha.
Raat ko haveli ka mahaul phir se shaant tha.
Dinner table par sab maujood the.
“College kaisa tha?” Gayatri Devi ne Ishika se poocha.
“Normal,” Ishika ne kaha.
Par Veer usse dekh raha tha—
jaise wo “normal” ka matlab samajhna chahta ho.
“Aaj campus me security badhao,” Veer ne Devraj Shekhawat se calmly kaha.
Devraj ne kuch nahi poocha.
Sirf sir hila diya.
Dinner ke baad Ishika terrace par aa gayi.
Sheher ki lights chamak rahi thi.
Uske phone par ek message aaya.
Kabir: Tum thaki hui lag rahi thi. Sab theek hai?
Ishika ne kuch seconds tak reply nahi kiya.
Phir likha—
Ishika: Haan. Bas thoda soch rahi thi.
Kabir: Kabhi-kabhi soch se zyada mehsoos karna bhi zaroori hota hai.
Ishika ne phone band kar diya.
Uska dil halka ho gaya… par dimaag heavy.
Neeche Veer apne kamre me khada tha.
Uske haath me ek file thi—
Kabir Mehta ka naam pehle page par tha.
Veer ne gehri saans li.
“Sirf ek college ladka,” usne khud se kaha.
Par Shekhawat instinct kabhi galat nahi hoti.
Aur us raat,
college ke corridors aur haveli ke raaz—
dono ne ek dusre ko pehchaan liya.
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