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Ravi ek freelance photographer tha jo akeli jagah aur chhupay raaz capture karna pasand karta tha. Us din woh ek chhoti si jagah ke paas gaya jahan ek purani, tuta-phuta mahal tha — log usse ‘Ujla Mahal’ kehte the. Kaha jata tha ki wahan kisi waqt ek riyasat thi, par ek raaz ke baad sab kuch barbaad ho gaya.
Gaon wale kehte the ki mahal ka ek darwaza shaam ke baad kabhi band nahi hota. Jab Ravi ne yeh suna to uski curiosity aur badh gayi. “Kya sach mein kuch hota hai yahaan?” usne socha. Phir usne raat ko wahan rukne ka faisla kiya.
Shaam hoti hi Ravi apna camera le kar mahal ke andar gaya. Mahal mein hawa ka bhi halchal tha. Sheeshe tut gaye the, deewar pe khoon ke purane dhabbay the, aur har kadam par koi cheez uske peeche chalti mehsoos hoti thi. Lekin jab tak usne darwaza dekha, har cheez normal lag rahi thi.
Woh darwaza purane lakde ka tha, us par khoon se kuch likha hua tha — “Mat band kar. Waqt zinda hai.” Ravi muskuraya, “Bhooton ki koi bhi warning creative hoti hai!” Usne camera set kiya, aur darwaza band kar diya.
Kuch nahi hua…
Pehle das minute mein sirf sannata tha, aur andhera. Lekin phir ek dum se temperatures gir gaya. Uska saans lena mushkil ho gaya. Camera auto recording par tha, aur usme kuch chhayaein capture hone lagi.
Ek aurat ki cheekh sunayi di… lekin Ravi akela tha.
Darwaza ke peeche se kisi ne zor se thokar mari. Jab Ravi ne darwaza dubara kholna chaha… to woh hil bhi nahi raha tha. Uski chaabi andar hi thi… aur jab usne apna phone nikaalne ki koshish ki, uski battery zero thi. Woh phone jo ek ghante pehle 100% charge tha.
Ravi ne andar bhagna shuru kiya — har deewar se ek chehra nikal raha tha. Sab cheekh rahe the, “Darwaza mat band karo!”
Usne jahan camera rakha tha wahan jaane ki koshish ki — lekin woh room, jahan woh 10 minute pehle tha, ab wahan koi room hi nahi tha. Sirf ek purani tasveer — jisme woh khud khada tha, aur uske peechhe ek chhaya thi. Magar woh tasveer purani thi… kaise?
Ek dum se uske paon ke neeche zameen hilne lagi. Neeche se haath nikalne lage, uska khinchna shuru kiya. Usne chillana shuru kiya lekin uski awaaz keval usi ke kaan mein gunj rahi thi.
Woh ek hall mein ja gira — jahan sab dikh rahe the. Gaon wale jo kab ke gaayab ho chuke the, wajood mein the, lekin zinda nahi. Sab jaise kisi trance mein the. Ek budi aurat uske paas aayi aur boli, “Darwaza band kiya tune… waqt ruk gaya hai, tum ab us mein shamil ho. Ab har shaam tum darwaza kholne wale ko intezaar karoge…”
Us raat ke baad Ravi kabhi nahi mila. Uska camera bhoot bangla ke bahar mila, usme sirf ek photo thi — jisme woh darwaza band karte waqt dikhaayi de raha tha, uske peeche saaya khada tha.
Gaon wale kehte hain ab har shaam darwaza khud ba khud khulta hai… magar koi dobara band karne ki himmat nahi karta… kyunki Ravi ab andhar hai. Aur ab uski tasveeron se awaaz aati hai —
“Darwaza khula rahne do… warna waqt tumhara bhi hoga…”
