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Arnav, 26 saal ka backend developer, apne rented flat mein Rajouri Garden ke ek purane building mein akela rehta tha. Full-time remote job thi, aur clients mostly US mein base the. Isliye raat ke 2-3 baje tak jagna uske liye normal tha. Lekin ye cheez tab badli jab usne naye phone mein ek purana SIM activate kiya — ek aise plan ke liye jo sirf late-night data users ke liye sasta tha.
Pehli baar usne woh voicemail recieve ki 4:03 AM pe. Koi unknown number se missed call aya, aur ek chhoti si voicemail chhod gaya. “Zyada der mat sochna, Arnav. Sab dekh raha hai.”
Usne samjha koi prank ho sakta hai. VOIP se fake calls bana lena aaj kal asaan tha. Lekin jab dusre din same time pe same caller ne usko call kia, aur voicemail chhoda — “Tumhare room ke peeche jo diwar hai, usme kuch aur bhi hai.” — tab se uski neend ud gayi.
Arnav ne pehle apne ghar ki recording start ki. Ek purana Xiaomi security camera use kiya jo uske paas padha tha. Har raat woh 4 baje se pehle recording chalu kar deta.
Chauthi raat, jab usne clip dekha, to uske khud ke hi wallpapers pe ek ajeeb si shadow dikhi — as if koi vertical se andar dhans raha ho… ya nikal raha ho. Screen pe sirf ek second ke liye aayi, aur fir gaayab ho gayi.
Dhar se nahi, logical curiosity se obsessed Arnav ne investigate kiya. Usne building ke vastu aur previous tenants ke records dekhe. Record mil gaya ki 2020 mein ek freelance journalist, Neha, isi flat mein rehti thi. Usne ek sting operation cover kia tha kisike khilaaf aur disappear ho gayi thi — bina kisi trace ke. Jab Arnav ne garage ke caretaker se poocha, usne kaha, “Wahi ladki jo phone mein baat karte karte chali gayi thi… bina lift liye upar ja rahi thi… raat 4 ke baad.”
Raat ke 4:03 pe calls aana jaari tha. Har baar same voice — aur har baar thoda zyada personal. “Tumhara haath kyun kaanp raha hai, Arnav?” “Mitti ki smell aayi kal raat jab tum bistar mein the, na?”
Fir aayi ek voicemail jo voice se nahi, breathing se thi. Chaudhvi voicemail. Jaise koi bohot karib se phone ke mic mein saans le raha ho. Arnav ne bravely voicemail sunna band kiya aur router band kar diya. Lekin agle din woh call uske landline pe aayi. Landline? Jo purane time se bas table ka showpiece tha.
Darr ke maare Arnav weekend pe Gurgaon shift hone ka plan banane laga. Packing start kar di. Lekin jab usne cupboard ke peeche fichla diya hua plaster hataaya… uske niche ek purani, chhoti si keypad phone chhupi thi. Fully charged.
Screen pe ek hi cheez likhi thi — aur woh blink kar rahi thi: “Listen before you leave.”
Curiosity le har baar jeet li. Usne phone pe saved voicemail file play ki. Iss baar voice normal nahi thi. Machine ke jaise distorted aur inverted thi — jaise koi andar se bol raha ho, neeche se, kisi aur possibility se.
“Tum wahan leave kar rahe ho jahan sirf surface dikhta hai. Neeche kuch aur bhi hai jahan hum jaise log stuck hain… Jab kisi number ko 13 raat tak ignore kiya jaye, woh switch karta hai — aur tumhara turn aata hai.”
Screen automatic off ho gayi. Room mein electronics blink karne lage. Light bulb fuse ho gaya. Aur ek aakhri baar 4:03 hua.
Us din ke baad Arnav vaastav mein shift ho gaya. Naya flat, naya sim, naya mahsoos hota jeevan. Lekin pehle raat, jab usne earphones lagaye Netflix dekhne ke liye, tab phone vibrate hua. No number, sirf ek message:
“Naya SIM, purana score. Sunna toh padega.”
Us raat uske Netflix suggestion mein ek chhoti si documentary dikhi — “The Girl Who Called at 4:03″… aur narrator ka voice usi voicemail se milta tha.
Tab Arnav ko samajh aaya… kuch calls sunne ke baad tum phone cut nahi karte. Tum cut ho jaate ho.
Aaj bhi, agar tumhare call logs mein 4:03 AM ka ek blank call dikhe — bina kisi trace, bina kisi app history — toh voicemail mat sunna. Kyunki sunne ke baad, tum sirf phone nahi uthate… tum transfer hote ho.
