He Trapped In Own Game part-2

Amit ne jaise hi apna hath Neha ki thodi se dheela kiya aur almari me rake apne bag ki taraf badha, kamre ki hawa bhari aur ghutan bhari ho gayi.

"Toh tumne socha tha ki ek middle class ladki sirf ro sakti hai?" Neha ki aawaz dheemi, lekin bahut sakht thi.

Amit ruka. Usne ghoomkar Neha ko dekha aur uske chehre par wahi neechta bhari muskaan aa gayi. "Rone ke alawa kar bhi kya sakti hai? Tere naam par 5 lakh ka loan hai, tune gair-kanooni kaam karne ki koshish ki hai, aur agar police ko sach pata chala toh jail tu jayegi. Tu poori tarah barbaad ho chuki hai, Neha."

Amit ne jaise hi bag zip kiya, Neha dheere se aage badhi. Uske hath me wahi bhari lohe ki paani ki bottle thi, jo bed ki side table par rakhi rehti thi.

"Main barbaad toh usi din ho gayi thi Amit, jis din maine tumse pyar kiya tha," Neha ki aankhon me se ab aansu gayab ho chuke the. "Lekin tumne ek sabse badi galti kar di."

"Kya galti?" Amit ne hanste hue poocha.

"Tumne mujhe ye bata diya ki tum asli Amit ho... aur kanoon ki nazar me Amit do saal pehle hi mar chuka hai."

Amit ka chehra achanak fak pad gaya. Usaki muskaan gayab hui, lekin isse pehle ki woh kuch samajh pata—

DHAAD!

Neha ne apni poori taakat se lohe ki bottle Amit ki kanpati par de maari. Amit ka santulan bigda aur woh seedhe bed ke kinare se takrakar farsh par ja gira. Uske sir se khoon ki ek patli dhaar nikal kar us saste sooti kurte ko bhigone lagi.

Amit tadapte hue apne sir ko pakadne laga, "Tu... tu pagal ho gayi hai kya?!"

Neha ruki nahi. Uske andar chhupa itne saalon ka dard, jalalat aur gussa bekaabu ho chuka tha. Woh Amit ki chhati par chadh baithi. Amit ne uska gala dabane ke liye apne hath uthaye, lekin Neha ne bottle se uske hath par ek aur waar kiya. Amit dard se karah utha.

"Do saal tak maine is kamre me ghut-ghutkar jeeya hai," Neha Amit ke bilkul chehre ke kareeb jhuki, uski aankhon me darindagi aur badle ka aisa nasha tha jise dekhkar Amit ka kaleja kaamp gaya. "Maine apni maa ke gahne beche, raat-raat bhar tuition padhakar paise jutaye... aur tu soch raha tha ki tu mera istemaal kar raha hai?"

"Neha... chhod mujhe... main sab sahi kar dunga..." Amit ki aawaz me pehli baar khauf aur bheekh nazar aayi.

"Kuch sahi nahi ho sakta," Neha ne Amit ki jeb se phone nikala. "Jab kanoon ki nazar me Amit mar chuka hai... toh agar aaj raat is kamre me Amit sach me mar jaye, toh police kise dhoondhne aayegi? Ek laash ko?"

Amit ki aankhein fati ki fati reh gayi. Use ahsaas hua ki usne ek seedhi-saadhi ladki ko itna pratadit kar diya tha ki woh ab ek khaufnak mod par aa chuki thi.

Neha ne Amit ke chehre par thappad maara aur uske fingerprint se phone ka lock khola. Usne us bio-hacking group aur bank se jude saare messages delete karne shuru kiye.

Amit ne aakhri saanson ki tarah taakat jutakar Neha ko dhakelne ki koshish ki, lekin Neha ne bottle uthakar phir se uske sir par nishana saadha.

"Amit," Neha ne uske kaan me phusphusaya, "tune sahi kaha tha... meri soch jahan khatam hoti hai, teri chalaki wahan se shuru hoti hai. Lekin ek aurat jab sab kuch kho deti hai na... toh uski darindagi wahi se shuru hoti hai jahan teri chalaki khatam hoti hai."

Khidki par baarish ki boondein aur tej ho gayi. Kamre me sirf table fan ki charcharahat aur Amit ki toot-ti hui saanson ki aawaz bachi thi. Shikaar karne nikla darinda ab khud us kiraye ke chote se kamre me zindagi ki bheekh maang raha tha, aur jis ladki ko usne kamzor samjha tha, wahi uski maut ka fanda ban chuki thi.