Waseem ne teesri dafa darwaza khatkhataya; is dafa us ne Imama ki awaz suni.
"Kaun hai?"
"Imama, main hoon. Darwaza kholo," Waseem ne peeche hote hue kaha. Andar se khamoshi thi.
Kuch dair baad, taala khula aur Waseem ne darwaza khola. Imama apne bistar ki taraf peeth kar ke chal padi.
"Is waqt yahan kyun aaye ho?"
"Waqt se pehle kyun so gayi ho? Abhi to das bajay hain," Waseem ne andar aate hue jawab diya.
"Mujhe neend aa rahi thi." Wo bistar par baith gayi. Waseem ne usay dekh kar pareshani mehsoos ki.
"Kya tum ro rahi thi?" Yeh ek ikhlaqi sawal tha. Imama ki aankhein surkh aur soji hui thi aur wo nazar chura rahi thi.
"Nahin-nahin, main ro nahi rahi thi. Bas sar mein dard tha." Usne muskurane ki koshish ki.
Waseem ne uske paas baith kar uska haath pakar ke uska hararat check kiya. "Bukhaar to nahi hai?" usne fikar se poocha. Phir uska haath chhor diya. "Tumhein bukhaar nahi hai. Shayad tumhein dard ki tablet leni chahiye."
"Main le chuki hoon."
"Achha. Phir so jao. Main tumse baat karne aaya tha magar tum is halat mein nahi ho..." Waseem ne kamra chhorne ke liye morat leya. Imama ne usay rokne ki koshish nahi ki. Usay darwaza band kar diya jab Waseem nikal gaya.
Bistar par let kar, usne apna chehra takiya mein chhupa liya-woh phir se ro rahi thi....
(Share, support n save to ur library...)
YOU ARE READING
Peer-E-Kamil (The Perfect Mentor) - Roman Urdu
PoetryThis is the translation of Umera's Peer-e-kamil to Roman urdu, hope you guys like it.... All credits to Umera Ahmed.....
