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Har saal, Navratri ke baad, Ujjain ke bahar ek chhoti si basti mein ek shaadi hoti hai. Koi modern décor nahi, bas laal shamiyana, mitti ki khushboo aur purane type ka sound system. Log kehte hain ki yeh shaadi unka parampara hai, par kisi ne kabhi dulhan ko dekha nahi.
Meera, ek journalist from Bhopal, is basti ke folklore pe ek article likhne aayi thi. Usne socha ki yeh ek interesting human interest story hogi—rural traditions, oral history, etc. Lekin jab usne local logon se baat karni shuru ki, sab chup ho gaye. Shaadi wale din log khush nahi dikhte the. Bacche gharon mein band the, aur shamiyana mein sirf kuchh ajeeb log hansi-hansi mein baithkar shaadi dekh rahe the, jaise ki yeh koi film ho.
Meera ne shamiyana mein jaake dekha. Ladka stage par tha—chehre pe haldi, aankhon mein kuchh khali. Dulhan phir bhi gayab thi. Sound system pe shubh vivaah mantra baj rahe the, par pandit nahi tha. Koi rasam properly nahi chal rahi thi, par sab log waise hi baithe the jaise yeh routine ho.
Fir sabse ajeeb baat hui—raat ke 12 baje ek aurat ko doli pe laya gaya. Uska muh ghunghat mein tha, haath bandhe hue the. Meera ne photo lene ki koshish ki, par uska phone turant band ho gaya. Jab phone chalu hua, to usme ek naya video tha jo usne kabhi record nahi kiya: ek andhera kamra jahan koi usse bol raha tha, “Tum bhi aaye ho shaadi dekhne, ab tumse hi bidai hogi.”
Dar ke maare Meera ne woh jagah turant chhod di. Par jab woh apne hotel pahunchi, tabhi room ki light blink karne lagi. Phone fir se band ho gaya. Screen pe sirf ek photo dikh rahi thi: shamiyana ka stage aur usmein Meera khud dulhan ke kapdon mein.
Agli subah, Meera gaayab thi. Uska camera aur phone lodge ke washbasin mein mile—puri tarah galey hue, jaise kisi ne acid chhidka ho.
Shaadi phir se agli saal hone wali hai. Ek naye dulhe ke saath. Par koi nahi poochta ki dulhan kaun thi… ya kya thi.
