Sach hote Khwaab

Pleasant Time

It was a cold morning. I got dressed in a plum red pullover with a pair of black trousers and draped a beige, printed muffler around my neck.
I was about to go downstairs when I spotted my camera – the one Amrit had given me. An idea struck me. I grabbed it with a smile and rushed downstairs.
Mummyji was in the kitchen . I zoomed around the hall with the camera deliberately – sometimes stopping here, making a few clicks there and letting out dissatisfied sighs every now and then.
Mummyji came and stood behind me, 'Kya dhoond raha hai ?'
'Ek aks ki talaash hai is camere ko, par kuch aisa mile tab baat bane' , I said thoughtfully, still looking down at the viewfinder. Just then I turned towards her. 'Mil gaya ! Ek behad khoobsurat aks', I said with delight. 'Kya aap mujhse tasweerien khichwaana chahengi ?'
'Subah subah tujhe photography soojhi hai! Par abhi mujhe kaam hai !', she said and tried to go away.
'Mummyji!', I blocked her way. 'Chaliye na! Kitne saal ho hue!', I requested.
Puttar main mana nahi kar rahi hoon. Bas thodi der ruk jaa.'
'Arey Bibiji yahan sab main dekh lunga', Neero Bhaiya chimed in. 'Aap Randheer baba ke saath jaiye!' I gave him a thumbs-up. With no reason to say no, she gave in with a smile.
'Agar tere is camera ko intezaar karna gawaara ho to main taiyaar hoke aa jau ?', she asked with a quaint smile.
'Ji ji zaroor', I replied with bright smile. 'Main study mein aapka Intezaar kar raha hoon. Jaldi aaiyega!'

I stood waiting in the study, checking the camera films, putting one into the camera. Our study was a cozy one – the wall opposite to the door was completely lined with books. A medium sized sofa stood in front of the book-shelf wall; two side tables and tall lamps on either side of it. To the right of the bookshelf was a French window and a comfortable armchair right in front of it. On the wall to left, there were glass shelves with some antique showpieces. On the left of the door was the writing table.

I had inherited the love of art and literature from my mother, and even back there in Karachi, the study was our escape. If we were to be found nowhere else, Bauji knew we'd be here.

Soon, Mummyji entered, dressed regally in a rich off-white-golden saree with a heavy set white pearl necklace and other matching jewellery. Her hair had been left open. She looked just like the queen she was!

'Kaisi lag rahi hoon ?', she asked with a self-assured smile.
'Royal !', I exclaimed.
'Good !', she said, gracefully settling on the left side of the sofa.

I brushed the curtains of the window, aside and turned towards her. 'Perfect !', I said, kneeling there and looking down at the camera's viewfinder. 'Ab aap armrest par haath rakhiye. Ji! Aur zara darwaaze ki taraf dekhiye. Haan bas waise hi!', I said and pushed the shutter to make a click and pulled the crank on camera out, turning it around for the second photograph. She followed my directions with poise.
'Ab aap neeche dekhiye, daaye haath ke upar baaya haath. Ji ji bas!', and I clicked another picture. 'Mummyji ab aap daayi taraf mud jaaiye'
'Aise ?', she asked turning a bit.
'Haan thoda aur. Haan bas. Ab meri taraf dekhiye !', I instructed, drawing one side of curtains to a close. She looked at me with a composed smile and I clicked.
'Aap khadi ho jaiye. Aur pallu ko saamne le aaiye. Ji usi tarah. Nice!', I said, clicking another one.
'Ab aap yahan aa jaiye khidki ke paas.'
'Hmm. Good Idea!' She said and walked over and stood near the window, while I moved back.
'Ab aap bahar ki taraf dekhiye', I directed while turning the crank around. 'Haan bas ab apna daaya haath parde par rakhiye. Perfect !', I exclaimed and pushed the shutter.

We clicked many photographs. I changed the films twice. Getting my life back on track, living each and every day, revisiting hobbies - it was all so blissful!
Suddenly Bauji walked in the study dressed in his usual coat-suit-turban  – ready for office.
'Is ghar mein ek aur insaan bhi rehta hai ! Tum dono maa aur puttar ko yaad bhi hai ya nahi ?!', he complained.
'Aap bhi na! Ab kya hum tasweerein bhi nahi kheech sakte ?', Mummyji replied.
'Haan to maine kab mana kiya. Par mainu bhi to bula lete !', he said settling down on the sofa.
'Ab Randheer ko meri tasweerein kheechni thi isiliye aapko nahi bulaya humne !', she said with a shrug.
'Randheer !', he glared at me.
'Bauji ! Kal aapki tasweerein bhi kheech lenge. Aap fikr mat kijiye!', I tried to pacify him.
'Ye pehli baar nahi hua hai ! Baatein na bana! Puttar tera vyaah ho jaane de! Fir main aur Amrit puttar ek taraf, aur tum dono Maa-puttar ek taraf. Bas usiko meri fikar hai !', he said with a humph.
'Bauji ! Ye aap kaise keh sakte hai ! Ab Amrit to usi taraf rahengi na, jis taraf main rahunga!', I said with furrowed eyebrows.
'Aap dono behes karte rahiye! Amrit to sirf meri tarafdaari karegi !', Mummyji said with confident smile.
'Tumhaari galatfaymi hai ye!', Bauji remarked.
'Nahi ji!'
 We were arguing about whose side Amrit would be on, when Neero Bhaiya walked in, 'Bibiji, Huzoorilalji ke yahan se Munshiji aaye hai, zevar leke.'
'Unhe bithao. Main abhi aati hoon!', Mummyji instructed. Neero Bhaiya nodded and left.
Bauji joked, 'Ye zevar paake neeche mat chali jaana. Bichaare Munshiji sakpaka jayenge aur main lutt jaunga!'
'Kuch bhi kehte ho ji !', she said brushing him off. 'Aap toh nahi lutenge par haan, Munshiji ki aankhein zaroor chaundhiyan jayengi ! Aap fikar na karo, main zevar utaarkar hi jaungi ! '