Classroom ki khidkiyon se sooraj ki roshni chhan kar andar aa rahi thi. Subah ki nam hawa baar baar shishon se takra kar wapas palat ja rahi thi, Geo Information ke system ke professor apne makhsoos andaz mein lecture le rahe the.
Uske saath baithi DJ bazahir bohot tawajjo se lecture sun rahi thi aur register par likh rahi thi. Woh har chand lafz likh kar sar uthakar professor ko dekh ti, zara ghaur se unke agle alfaaz sunti aur phir samajh kar sar hilaati dobara likhne lagti.
Haya ne ek nigah uske register par daali. Wahan uska chalta qalam likh raha tha.
"Tum logon ka spring break ka kya program hai? Kidhar jaoge aur kaun kaun tumhare saath ja raha hai?" Aakhri lafz likh kar usne gardan seedhi kar ke poore aitmaad se professor ko dekhte hue register daayin jaanib baithay Mutaasim ko paas kar diya. Yeh unki aur Falasteenion ki wahid mushtarka class thi.
Mutaasim ne ek nigah khule register par daali, aur phir sar jhuka kar kuch likhne laga. Jab register wapas mila to us mein angrezi mein likha tha:
"Hum Turkey ke tour par ja rahe hain. Saat din mein saat sheher. Hum paanchon aur Tali. Aur tum logon ka kya program hai?"
Uff phir yeh Tali "DJ koft se jawab likhne lagi.
"Hum bhi saat dinon mein saat sheher ghoomne ka soch rahe hain."
Usne register aage paas kar diya aur phir zara tek laga kar baith gayi.
Mutaasim ab safha par chand alfaaz ghaseet raha tha.
"Toh humare saath chalna."
"Tum logon ko kab nikalna hai?"
"Pehli chutti wale din." Mutaasim ne apna program bataya..
"Humne doosri chutti pe nikalna hai, so tumhare saath mushkil hoga. Chalo phir chuttiyon ke baad milenge."
"No problem!" Mutaasim ne saath ek muskurata hua chehra banaya.
Haya daant par daant jamaye bamushkil se jamaiyan rokne ki koshish kar rahi thi. Use is class se zyada boring koi class nahi lagti thi.
Dafatan Mutaasim ne register DJ ki taraf barhaya to us par likhe alfaaz ko dekh kar DJ ne register Haya ke samne rakh diya. Haya ne zara si gardan jhuka kar dekha. Upar usne angrezi mein likha tha. "Translate in Urdu please." Uske neeche Arabi ibarat likhi thi. "Kayf halak?"
Haya ne qalam ungliyon ke darmiyan pakda aur Urdu hijon mein likha.
"Aap ka kya haal hai?" Aur register wapas Mutaasim ko bhej diya. Mu’taasim aur Hussain ko aaj kal DJ se Urdu alfaaz seekhne ka shauq chadha hua tha. Us class mein woh yun sara waqt Arabi alfaaz likh likh kar unko dete the.
Chand lamhon baad usne safha phir Haya ke samne kiya. Ab ke is par likha tha "Hali bekhair."
Haya ne chirh kar neeche likha.
"Main bilkul theek thak hoon aur aap ki khairiyat theek chahti hoon."
"Itna lamba kyun likha?" DJ ne hairat se sargoshi ki.
"Agar chhota likhti toh yeg foran hi isay seekh kar mujh se aaj hi ki tareekh mein poori Feroz-ul-Lughaat likhwata. Ab achha hai na, poora din theek 'parhne' mein guzar dega."
Aur Mutaasim se class ke ikhtitam tak "theek theek" se nahi padha gaya.
Class khatam hui to woh wapas dorm mein aayi. Munh haath dhoke tayaar hone mein kaafi waqt lag gaya. Usne ek mor pankh ke sabz rang ka paon ka chhota frock pehna. Frock ki asteen tang chudi daar thi aur neeche pajama tha. Poora libas bilkul saada tha. Baal usne khule chhod diye aur kajal aur natural pink lip stick laga kar DJ ki taraf palti.
