Wo ek sitambari dopahar thi,
Khidki pe rakhi, subah ke
Chay ki tashtari mein,
Barish ka ek tukda kaid ho gaya tha.
Khidki meri mez ke sirhane thi,
Sirhane is liye, kyonki
Is mez pe maine ghanton
Sote guzare hain.
Aur hamesha meri koi na koi kitaab
Takiye ke kaam aayi hai.
Un purani seeli kitabon ki khusbu mein,
Chay ka zayka jaan padta hai.
Kisi panne se adrak, kisi se tulsi,
Kisi se kali mirch, to kisi se
Us bahut khaas-
‘black tea’ ki yaad aati hai.
Tez hawa mein fadfadate,
Meri khuli diary ke pannon ki awaz-
Us hare parde ki yaad dilate hain,
Jo us khidki pe tanga hota tha.
Hafton us seeli khidki ke samne,
Mez par kitabon ka takiya banaya hai.
Zukaam lag gaya hai,
Har cheenk ke baad, haath khud hi
Mez ki ‘table cloth’ ki or uth jata hai,
Jo kabhi wahan hota tha.
Fir darwaze ki ghanti baji-
“Kapde le lo sahib…”
“…. Char kameez, do pant…
… ek parda, ek table cloth…”
Us nayi dhuli sitambari dopahar ki tarah,
Tumhare ghar lautne ki khushi mein,
Maine sab kuch dhulwa diya hai.
