Chai at Midnight
Raat ke do baj rahe thay aur Karachi abhi tak jaag raha tha. Sea View ki taraf se thandi hawa aa rahi thi, aur Boat Basin ke dhabay par sirf teen log bache thay: chaiwala Bashir, ek neend mein doobi hui billi, aur Hina.
Hina har raat yahin aati thi. Call centre ki shift khatam hoti, woh apna headset bag mein thoonsti, aur seedha Bashir ke paas aakar kehti, “Ek doodh patti, kam cheeni, zyada pyar.”
Bashir har raat hans deta. “Pyar ke paise alag lagte hain, baji.”
Aaj raat ek chautha banda bhi tha. Kone wali kursi par ek larka baitha tha, laptop khula hua, aankhon ke neeche kaale halkay, aur saamne teen khaali cup.
“Yeh kaun hai?” Hina ne dheere se poocha.
“Engineer sahib.” Bashir ne kandhe uchkaye. “Pichle hafte se roz aata hai. Kuch banata hai computer par. Kehta hai ghar par neend nahi aati.”
Hina ne apna cup uthaya aur, bina soche, kone wali mez ki taraf chal padi. “Chauthi chai meri taraf se,” us ne kaha aur cup laptop ke saath rakh diya.
Larke ne hairani se upar dekha. “Aap… mujhe jaanti hain?”
“Nahi,” Hina muskurayi. “Lekin jo insaan raat ke do baje teen chai pee chuka ho, us se zyada tanha is shehar mein koi nahi.”
Woh hansa, pehli dafa, aur Hina ne socha ke shayad yeh chai kabhi khatam na ho.