Baat us samay ki hai jab Mumbai, Bombay hua karta tha, aksar ek bachha dikhta th

a mujhe, samundra kinaare ret ka mahal banate huye. Har shaam wo ek naya ghar ba
nata tha aur chala jata tha........aur fir raat me samundra rota tha apne mahboo
b ki yaadon me aur aanshuwo ki toofan us bachhe k ghar ko gira jaati thi. Par wo
bachha fir shaam ko aake ek naya mahal banata use kya pata tha ki wo fir samund
ra ke virah ka shikaar hone wali hai.
Samay badla log badle aur badal gaya shahar ka naam...ab ye Mumbai hai...lekin k
uch chije nahi badalati....aaj bhi samundra wahi hai...ret wahi hai....aur wahi
pe bachhe reto ka mahal banate hai.....
Ek raat jab balcony me khara cigerate pi raha tha, to sunai di mujhe samundra ki
shishkiya...jo sayad shahar ke shor me dabi thi ab tak....socha thoda der walk
kar ke aata hu.....kinaare pe jaa kar dekha to dikhai di mujhe samundra ki becha
ini, uska pagalpan...pahli baar dekha maine kis berukhi se gira raha tha wo bach
ho k banaye mahal....aur wahi kuch dur pe dikha mujhe wo abhaga insaan....jo jor
jor se chilla raha tha..jaise ki samundra ko lalkaar raha tha wo....kuch der ba
ad jab samundra shant hua to usne bhi chain ki saans li aur baith gaya wahi gile
ret par.....socha thoda paas jakar dekhta hu use...thoda paas jaane pe dekha to
wo kuch likh raha tha waha pe...sayad kisi apne ka naam....uske haath me dekha
to kisi haddi ka tukra tha...sayad kisi kabristaan se utha ke laya tha wo....sam
undra ki lahre fir se aaye aur mita gaye us naam ko........aur wo fir se samundr
a k saamne khara ho ke use lalkaarne laga.....
Baat aaye gaye ho gaye, aur main apne ghar aa ke so gaya.......Subah jab so ke u
tha to socha kuch likhne baithta hu, apne table se pen aur notebook nikala....ja
ne kyu mujhe apni kalam kuch badli si lagi....aisa laga jaise kisi kabristaan ki
haddi ko main pakre baitha hu....