Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā
Tujhé Chodā Mainé: 1
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Aur chodtā rahūn tujhé hai bas yehī duā
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‘The fifteen days of intense sex, love and lust’: Durgesh
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Chapter 1
Pahla Din
Merā haath kab pahunch gayā thā apne aap mere Hindu Lund par, patā hi nahinn chala thā mujhe.
Mere Eīshān!
Mere Svāmī!
Mere Eīshān Param Brahm Parmātmā!
Itni kħūbsūrat lađkī?
Iske pahle to kabhi nahinn dekhi yahan.
“Hey, Afshān!” I called my extremely beautiful secretary.
Satýpāl Vārshñéý was adamant that he would not let me go.
Afshān Siddiqui was at once on my side.
“Hey, what are you doing?” She at once snatched my Hindu Penis from my hand, and squeezed it naughtily so hard that I slapped her on her gorgeous buttocks.
“Sālī! Kyā karti hai?”
“Mera kaam kħud karoge to aesa hi karoongi main.”
“Yaar! Yeh kaun hai?”
“Bulāoon?”
“Tū jānti hai ise?”
“Haan!” Voh fakħr se sar taan kar boli.
“Kaun hai?”
“Pahle rishvat do.”
“Sālī tu meri secretary hai. Yaad hai?”
“Is kaam ke liye nahinn hun main tumhari secretary.”
“Afshān!”
“Behave yourself Hindu Piya! Tum ek national film magazine ke editor ho, aur main tumhari secretary hun.”
“Sālī! Itna chodūngā ki hosh thikane aa jayenge!”
Afshān hansee.
“Kise chodoge? Use, ya mujhe?”
“Jab tak voh nahin aati, tab tak Sālī! Teri kħud ki khair nahin.”
“Haan bhai, lund to tumhara vāqaī beħad thanthanā rahā hai.”
“Aur tu use abhi tak sirf sahla rahi hai! Sharm nahinn aati?”
“Tum jaise Mahābesharm ki secretary ko?”
Main hansaa.
Afshān Siddiqui bhi hans pađī.
“Hans rahe ho? Koi doosrā boss hota to is baat par apni secretary ko nikāl bahar karta.”
“Yaar! Teri Gānd behad mast hai.” Maine Afshān Siddiqui ke behad haseen sudaul koolhe sahlaaye.
“Taubah hai, Durgesh! Meri jan! tumse bhi. Abhi chodne ka mood ho rahā thā tumhara. Abhi seedhe meri Gānd tak ja pahunche.”
“Sālī! Aaj teri Chūt aur Gānd dono ki khair nahinn.”
“Apne lund ki khair manao, samjhe?
Bhool gaye? Main ek Årab Musalmān lađkī hun. Tumhare Hindu Lund ka poora ras nichođ nichođ kar choos loongi meri Chūt ke andar.”
“Yeh kaun hai yaar?”
“Mar mite poori taraħ us par?”
“Haan, yaar! Ab zinda karne ka koi intzaam kar na!”
“Pakistan se aai hai.”
“Ohoho!”
“Kyā ohoho?”
“Tabhi itni zyadah haseen hai.”
“Aré! Tumhen hum Musalmān laundiyāon ke ålāvā aur koi kħūbsūrat lađkī nazar hi nahin aati kyā?” Afshān Siddiqui pulkit āvāz men boli.
“Sāliyo! Mera chain churakar mujhse hi poochhti ho, kyā ho gaya?”
“Achchha ek baat bataao. Kitni Musalmān laundiyaon ko chodne ke baad tumhare Hindu Lund ki pyaas kuchh bujhegi?”
“Kuchh?” Main hansaa.
“Haan, main janti hun, poori to qayamat tak nahinn bujhne wali. Tumhara bas chala, to tum qayamat men bhi Allah Miyan ke saamne hum Musalmān laundiyaon ko chod rahe hoge.”
“Yaar! Main sachmuch itna bura hoon kyā?”
“Lāħaul vilā qoovat illā villāħ! Bura kisne kahā? Are meri jaan! Tum to itne achchhe ho hum Musalmān laundiyaon ke liye, ki tumse achchha koi ho hi nahinn sakta.” Afshān Siddiqui ne kichkichakar mujhe apni baahon men bhar liya aur phir tābađtođ choomne lag gaī mujhe.
“Chhođkar main tujhe koi Jannat na loon, tere badle men duniya ki daulat na loon. Mera sab kuchh Piya! Tujh pe qurban hai.” Voh tarannun men boli.
“Afshān!”
“Durgesh!”
“Kyon chahti hai re mujhe itna? Tujhe to patā hai, main kisi ek ka hokar nahin rah sakta.”
“Main to rah sakti hoon na kisi ek ki hokar? Maine tumhen chuna. Main meri baat kar rahi hun. Tumhari tum jano aur tumhara Kħudā jāné!”
“Merā Kħudā? Arthāt ‘Eīshān Param Brahm Parmātmā’?” I laughed.
“Who else? Kattar Hindu.” Afshān Siddiqui took my Hindu Penis into her extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Muslimā mouth and started to suck passionately.
Her full name was Al Afshān Al Saåeed Al Siddīquī.
She had come to India with her father and mother.
Her mother fell in love with my father, Vishvās Shakr Mānav, and to her extreme surprise, she found she could not live without me.
“Ammī Ħuzoor!” Al Afshān Al Saåeed Al Siddīquī embraced her mother.
“Ammī!” I laughed, “Is Sālī ko bhi yahin rahne do.”
Afshān Siddiqui blew a flying kiss at my Hindu Lund.
“Hey!” Begum Al Wājidā Al Qāsim Al Wahāb ne aankhen tarer kar meri taraf dekha, “She is your half sister now. Gālī mat bak usé.”
“Pahle is Sālī se pooch to lo Ammī ki yeh Sālī bhi meri half sister bannā chāhti hai, ya meri Bīvī bannā chāhti hai.”
“Hindu Piyā!” Al Afshān Al Saåeed Al Siddīquī apni bāyeen aankh dabākar boli, “Jaise Ammī Ħuzoor tumhāre Pitr’shrī ki Bīvī bani hain, main bhi tumhārī bīvī banungi aur raat ko hum donon ma beti aap donon Baap Bete ke Hindu dam kħam dekhengi. Bahut nām hai aap Hinduon ka sex ke måāmlé men.”
“Sālī! Tu abhi dekh!” Main hanskar bola.
Imām Al Saåeed Al Muħammad Al Siddīquī ne itmīnān ki meelon lambi saans li thī.
Chār bīviyān thin Imām saħab ki Mecca men.
Begum Al Wājidā Al Qāsim Al Wahāb sabse zyādah ħaseen thin lekin jo nai Ħusnparī unki zindgi men aane ko betaab thī voh baqayda nikāħ chahti thī.
Imām Sāħab ne apne dost, mere Pitr’shrī, se baat ki thī.
“Vishvās! Tu us roz Wājidā par laar tapka rahā thā saaf saaf.”
Pitr’shrī hanse the.
“Wājidā Bhābhī par?”
“Chhođ! Main janta hun ki voh kitni teri Wājidā Bhābhī hai aur kitni teri Wājidā Bīvī hai.”
Pitr’shrī hanse.
“Ilzam laga rahā hai mujh par?”
“Tujh par nahin―tujh par nahin. Jab apna hi sona khota ho to doosron par ilzam lagane se fayda? Maine dekha thā ki kis taraħ Wājidā haath dhokar tere peechhe pad gaī thī aur tujh se chudvākar hi maani. Usse pahle nahinn.”
“Wājidā Bhābhī kah rahi thin ki unhen poora lund chāhiye. Kata hua nahin.” Pitr’shrī ki āvāz men shararat thī Imām uncle ke liye.
“Lāħaul vilā qoovat illā villāħ!” Imām Al Saåeed Al Muħammad Al Siddīquī jhunjhla kar bole, “Jab voh mujhse nikāħ padhva rahi thī tab use nahin måālūm thā ki mera lund kata hua hai?”
Pitr’shrī khulkar hanse.
“Saåeed!”
“Bak!”
“Wājidā Bhābhī ko mere liye chhođ de. Too to Saůūdī Årab men hi rahtā hai. Voh bhi Mecca men. Tujhe kyā kami hai yaar! Ħaseen Laundiyāon ki? Wājidā Bhābhī mere paas rahna chahti hain. Chhođ na unka moh!”
“Nahin sudherega too Vishvās! Nahin sudherega. Doston ki bīviyon ko chodnā tum Hinduon men koi gunah nahin mana jata?”
Pitr’shrī sharārat se muskurāye.
“Dost agar Musalmān ho to nahin.”
“Taubah! Taubah! Lāħaul vilā qoovat illā villāħ!”
“Wājidā Bhābhī beħad sexy hain, saale Imām ke bachche! Main dåve ke saath kahta hoon voh tujhse hargiz nahin sambhalti hongi. Eīshān! Kyāqalabaziyan khati hain Wājidā Bhābhī bistar par! Main unhen kam chod rahā thā voh mujhse zyādah chudvā rahi thin. Imām ke bachche! Saale! Voh behad sexy namkin åurat tere bas ki nahin hai. Voh itne latke jhatke janti hai, ki main use itna chodne ke båd bhi use phir se chodne ke liye mara ja rahā hoon.”
Imām Al Saåeed Al Muħammad Al Siddīquī ne idhar udhar dekha.
Phir Pitr’shrī ki taraf jhukkar sargoshiyon jaisi āvāz men bole.
“Vishvās! Sach kahoon? Main use tere hi sar madhne ke liye yahan laya thā.”
“Aré!” Pitr’shrī khulkar hanse, “To phir saaf kyon nahin kahā khulkar.”
“Kah to rahā hoon.”
“Aré! Pahle kyon nahin kahā saale?”
“Main dekhna chahta thā ki tum donon kyā gul khilate ho.”
“Eīshān! Eīshān! Aré! Saale Saåeed! Too Imām hai.”
“Kyon Imām ke lund nahin hota?”
“Nooni hoti hai―nooni. Lund nahin hota! Lund hota to Wājidā Bhābhī ko mujh se chudvāné ki zaroorat padti kyā?”
Main phir pandrah minute båd khiđkī par jā pahunchā.
Ħazrat maujood thin.
Dekh bhi meri khiđkī ki taraf hi rahi thin.
Lekin jaise hi main khiđkī par pahunchā, fauran doosri taraf dekhne lag gain.
“Eīshān!” Main use sunāne ke lye kuchhh oonchi āvāz men bola, “Yūn nazar to mujh pe dālī jāyegi. Jab main dekhoonga hata li jayegi.”
“Shāheen!” Usne andar ki taraf munh karke zor se Shāheen ko āvāz dī, “Ae Shāheen ki bachchī! Mar gaī kyā?”
Yåni ki philħāl vahān se hatne ki bajaye madad ke liye fauj vahin bulakar muqāblā karne ka irada rakhti thin meri sarkar.
“Aati hun.” Andar se Shāheen ki āvāz yahan tak aai, “Satish aaya hai.”
“Satish? Kaun Satish? Jald aakar mar yahan.”
“Naziya ki bachchī!” andar se phir āvāz aai, “Satish ko nahin janti? Maine likha thā na tujhe Satish ke bare men?”
To meri Ħuzoor ka nām Naziya thā?
Good!
Good!!
“Satish ko goli maar thodi der ke liye aur aakar mar yahan.”
“Jahan too mar rahi hai?”
“Haan!”
“Maar kaun raha hai?”
“Teri to― aati hai ki nahin?”
“Abhi main pandrah minute tak hil bhi nahinn sakti yahan se.”
“Kyon? Quickfix se chipka liya hai Satish ne tujhe apne saath?”
Shāheen kisi aandhi toofan ki taraħ pair patakhti hui andar se namoodār hui.
“Kyon mari ja rahi hai? Kaun si qayamat aa gaī?”
“Aa gaī nahin, Aa gaya. Aur qayamat nahinn, qayamat ka Kħasam. Udhar dekh khiđkī ki taraf.”
Shāheen ne fauran khiđkī ki taraf dekha.
Mujhe Aadab kiyā usne.
“Aré! Aré! Yah to sachmuch tera Kħasam hai.”
Mujhe zoron se hansee chhooti.
Tatkal un donon ki taraf peeth karke meri hansee rokne ki koshish karne laga main.
Naziya ka ghoonsa pada thā Shāheen ki peeth par.
“Taubah! Kitne zor se maarti hai.”
“Voh mera Kħasam hai?”
“Aré! Too hi to kah rahi thī ki qayamat ka Kħasam―”
“Main qayamat hun?”
Shāheen ne use sar se lekar pairon tak dekha.
“Aur nahin to kyā hai? Sar se lekar pairon tak Qayamat hi Qayamat to hai.”
Naziya ka ghoonsa phir utha.
Lekin Shāheen is bar tayyar thī.
Voh jhukai de kar bacha gaī.
“Qayamat to too bhi kam nahin. Kyā voh tera bhi Kħasam hai?” Naziya ne Shāheen ka survey kiyā.
“Kaash mera hota!”
“Kyā bakti hai?”
“Allah Qasam, Naziya! Zubeda bata rahi thī ki aesa chodta hai, aesa chodta hai―”
“Mar beħayā! Āvāz aur nichi kar. Kħālājān ne sun liya to kħāl kheench lengi hum donon ki.”
“Ammī andar hain. Abbū ke dost aaye hué hain.”
“Kaun vohi jo―”
“Shut up― Marvāyegi kyā?”
“Maarega kaun?”
“Aré! Teri to! Naziya ki bachchī! Kħūb masti chađhi hai? Pahunch ja uske pas. Aesa chodega ki hosh thikane aa jayenge!”
“Jab tujhe chodta hai, to tere hosh bhi thikane aa jate hain?”
“Aré! Mujhe kahaan chodta hai!” Shāheen kichkichakar boli, “Mujhe kahaan chodta hai! Mujhe to kahta hai, too Satish ki cheez hai. Satish se chudvā.”
“Aur too sunkar chali aati hai?”
“Aur kyā karoon?”
“Usne tujhe thik taraħ se dekha nahin hoga.”
“Dekha nahin hoga? Aré! Main uske kamre men nangi ghus gaī thī.”
“Shāheennnnnnnnnnnnnn―”
“Naziya! Too ne dekha use? Dekha too ne use?”
“Too us par marti hai?”
“Main marti hun? Sirf main marti hoon? Aré! Us par to poori Delhi ki Musalmān laundiyayen marti hain. Dekh nahinn rahi? Kambakht kitna kħūbsūrat hai. Haaye!”
Naziya ko ab maza aane lag gaya thā.
“Mujhe to nahinn laga voh itna kħūbsūrat!”
“Aehai! Phir aa andar chalte hain.”
“Andar to Satish hai.”
“Nahinn hai. Main to yunhi mazaq kar rahi thī.”
“Phir bhi. Hum kyon haten yahan se? Apne ghar men khade hain. Kisi ke baap ka dar pada hai kyā?”
“Hoon! Hoon! Main sab samajhti hoon, Naziya Khan! Voh bhi tujh par line maar rahā hai, aur tu bhi us par line maarna chahti hai.
“Yaar! Main chhuttiyon par aai hoon. Ħaj karne nahinn aai main Delhi.”
“Miss Karachi! Iraade kyā hain?”
“Tere is Durgesh ka nām kħūb sun rakha hai.”
“Achchhā! Pakistan tak pahunch gaī shuhrat?”
“Pakistan tak? Årab tak to mujhe måālūm hai. Aur Kahān Kahān tak pahunchi hai, yah Vallah åālam vissavāb!”
“To Durgesh ke liye aai hai is martabā?”
“Aré! Nahinn re! Main tujhe itni bhookhhi nazar aati hoon?”
“Naziya Khan! Soch Samajh kar! Sab kahti hain ki jise Durgesh ek bar chodta hai, phir use Durgesh ke ålava aur kisi se chudvane men koi maza nahinn aata.”
“‘Once with Durgesh, all the rest is trash’?”
“Kahti to sab yahi hain us Hindu launde ke mut’alliq.”
“Aesa kyā hai uske lund men?”
“Chudvāo to jāno.”
“Tu to nahinn chudvā pai aaj tak.”
“Yahi to afsos hai, meri Jān, Naziya Khan! Yahi to afsos hai.” Shāheen sighed.
“Jab ki hai itni kħūbsūrat.”
“Ab kyā karoon? Uske saamne to nangi khađi ho gaī. Phir bhi nahinn choda kambakħt ne!”
“Sach Shāheen?”
“Haan re! Aur us par qayamat yeh, ki voh bhi bilkul nanga thā us vaqt.”
“Nanga thā?”
“Haan! Kaha na! Aesi beizzati hui thī meri ki lagta thā, kahin doob kar ja maroon. Meri Chūt tak tika di thī maine uske lund par.”
“Phir bhi nahinn choda?”
“Phir bhi nahinn choda. Ab bata. Kahān jakar doob maroon main?”
“Yaar! Tu to behad ħaseen hai.”
“Yahi sochkar to itni himmat ki thī. Saara ghuroor tođkar rakh diya kambakħt ne mera.”
“Too bakvās kar rahi hai. Main nahinn
maanti.”
“Maan le meri Banno! Allah Qasam! Jo kaha uskā ek ek lafz sach hai. Main kyā apni zuban se apni Nakami ka dhindhora peetungi?”
“Lekin sab to kahti hain, ki voh Bahutsexy hai. Kisi Musalmān lađkī ko chodé baghair nahinn chhođtā.”
“Yahi sab sunkar to maine bhi himmat ki thī.”
“Shāheen! Tu behad ħaseen hai.”
“Mujhe måālūm hai, yaar!”
“Phir tujhe kyon nahinn chodā?”
“Vallah åālam vissavāb!”
“Tūné teri Chūt tika di thī Durgesh ke Hindu Lund par?”
“Tikā nahinn di thī. Uskā lund pakađkar meri Chūt ke munh men phansā liyā thā.”
“Shabās! Kamāl kar diya yaar, too ne to. Phir?”
“Phir kyā? Jamkar dhakkā mārā ek. Durgesh ke lund ka poora supāđā andar ghus gayā meri Chūt men.”
“Too to nihal ho gaī hogi. Phir?”
“Durgesh chaunkā. Bola, ‘kyā karti hai? Pagal ho gaī hai kyā?”
“Tab too ne kyā kahā?”
“Main pagal thī kyā, jo kuchhh kahne sunne men vaqt barbad karti? Doosrā dhakkā lagāyā. Durgesh ka lund ek chauthāī andar samā gayā.”
“Shabās! Vohi to main kah rahi thī ki meri Shāheen to shernī hai. Durgesh ko nahinn chod saki. Kamāl hai.”
“Aré! Main to chod chuki use! Aesa chodā hai kambakħt ko ki zindgi bhar yaad karega.”
“Yåni ki too use chod chuki?”
“Aur nahinn to kyā?” Shāheen ne fakħr se apna sar taan liya, “Voh bolta rahā, ‘Tum Satish ki ho! Tum Satish ki ho!’ maine kahā ‘chillata rah! Mera thenga sunta hai’. Jee bharkar chodā kambakħt ko. Yaar! Uskā lund sachmuch unique hai.”
“Achchhā!”
“Haan re! Jaise hi Chūt ke andar ghusta hai, aur zyādah lamba, aur zyādah mota, aur aur zyādah sakħt hone lagta hai.”
“Voh to har lund hota hai.”
“Nahinn hota! Yahin to maar kha gain aap, meri Jān Naziya Khan! Khatoone Karachi! Durgesh ka lund har dhakke par aur zyādah lamba, aur zyādah mota, aur aur zyādah sakħt hone lagta hai. Aur jab voh hamāré ābe zamzam se nahata hai to ekdam faulad ban jata hai. Sach kahti hun aesa maza aata hai ki―”
“Lagta hai, tu kħayālon hi kħayālon men phir us Hindu se chudvane lagi.”
“Haaye!” Ek aah bhari Shāheen Khan ne, “Kħayalon men hi to chudvā sakti hun na main usse! Haqiqat men to kambakħt mujhe apne putthe par haath bhi nahinn rakhne deta.”
“Åjeeb ghāmađ insān hai. Tere jaisi Ħusnparī ko nahinn chodta? Too use chodtī hai?”
“To kyā karoon? Chūt uskā Hindu Lund nigle baghair nahinn maanti. Itni khujli hoti hai ki zabardashti use girakar chađh baithti hun us par.”
“Tu― tu use gira leti hai?”
“Yaqeen nahinn ho rahā na? Achchhā, dekhna. Ab to tu pandrah din rahegi yahan. Dekhna main kaise use girakar us par chađhti hun.”
“Aaj tak tu hi chodtī rahi hai use? Usne tujhe kabhi nahinn chodā?”
“Dekh to kambakħt ko! Kahta hai main Satish ki hun. Satish se kyā nikāħ kar liya hai maine?”
Naziya Khan ka chehra sakħt ho utha.
“Too fikr mat kar. Is baar voh chodega tujhe.”
“Durgesh?”
“Haan!”
“I can’t believe you, Naziya Khan!”
“Shāheen Khan! Yah Naziya Khan ka vådā hai. Lekin―”
“Lekin kyā?”
“Satish ka kyā hoga?”
“Aajkal Almas pađī hui hai Satish ke Peechhe.”
“Almas Khan? Voh nakchađhi lađkī jo kahti thī ki har Hindu Kāphir hota hai?”
“Ab nahinn kahti.”
“Kyā matlab?”
“Irfan tayen tayen fiss nikal gaya.” Shāheen Khan hansee, “Lund tak nahinn ghuseđ saka andar. Baahar hi kħalās ho gaya. Almas Khan ko kāto to kħoon nahīn. Kħūb laaton se navāzti rahi Irfan Khan ko.”
Naziya Khan hansne lagi.
“Kyā kah rahi hai? Allah Qasam?”
“Allah Qasam Yaar! Main kyā jhooth boloongi tujh se? Too kisi se bhi poochh le.”
“To ab kyā karta hai apna Irfan Khan? Apni nooni pakađ kar kħud hilata hai? Koi lađkī to ab us par thookti bhi nahinn hogi.”
“Nazima ke peechhe pada thā.”
“Oh!”
“Nazima ne kuchhh aesa kiyā hai uske saath, ki Irfan Khan ke saare kas bal nikal gaye hain.”
“Kuchhh aesa kiyā hai― matlab? Thik thik nahinn måālūm kyā kiyā hai?”
“Nahinn. Nazima kisi ko kuchhh batane ko hoti hai to Irfan uske qadmon se lipat jata hai. Use Bājī kahne laga hai. Kahta hai, apne gunahgar chhote bhāī par raħam kare.”
“I see.”
“Haan re!”
“To too Durgesh ko chod chuki?”
“Aré! Nām mat le kambakħt ka. Uskā nām lete hi meri Chūt phir se gili hone lagti hai.”
Naziya Khan hansne lagee.
“Ae Naziya!”
“Hun?”
“Too to pandrah din rahegi na?”
“Haan, kyon?”
“Is baar kuchhh nayā karte hain.”
“Naya?”
“Haan!”
“Kyā?”
“Durgesh ko chodtī hain hum sub milkar.”
“Aré! Tera dimāgh kħarāb hua hai? Kħālājān ko patā chal gaya to――”
“Aesa karte hain, sabse pahle Ammī ko hi chudvati hain Durgesh se.”
Naziya Khan was horrified.
“Kħālājān ko?”
“Haan! Jahan ek baar Ammī chudin Durgesh se, ki bas, ham sab haméshā haméshā ke liye āzād. Jo kħud chud chuki hon, voh hamen chudvane se thode hi rok payengi?
“Allah Allah Kħair Sallah!”
Shāheen Khan seedhi ‘Film Apsarā’ ke office aa dhamki.
“Hey! Hero! Meri Chūt men phir khujli ho rahi hai.”
“Shut up Shāheen! Behave yourself.” Maine use dāntā.
“Chodnā to pađégā, Rājā! Shāheen Khan ko. Yā to yaheen chodo, ya phir chalo kahin baahar chalte hain.”
Maine thandi nigahon se uski taraf dekha.
“Hey Hero! Aesi nazron se dekhne se kaam nahinn chalegā.”
Kyā ho gaya thā is lađkī ko achanak kuchhh Samajh nahinn pa rahā thā main.
21-saal ki thī Shāheen Khan.
B.A. men padhti thī.
Satish nām ke ek ladke se uske t’alluqat the.
Maine socha thā, ek aur Ashvinātam Jođī ban rahi hai.
Acchhā hai.
Jo madad ban padegi mujh se in donon ki, karoonga.
Phir achanak hi Shāheen Khan par mujhse chudvane ka bhoot savār ho gaya thā.
Maine use samjhane ki Bahutkoshish ki thī, lekin voh meri ek bhi sunne ko tayyar nahinn thī.
“Satish mera Kħasam nahinn hai. Samjhe?” Voh daant peeskar boli thī, “Mere jism par sirf mera ħaq hai. Mera jee chahega, main tumse chudvaungi. Mera jee chahega, Satish ke sāth ghoomoongi phiroongi.”
“Achchhā, Achchhā!”
“Achchhā, Achchhā! Kyā Achchhā, Achchhā?”
“Sālī! Ab chađh mat mujh par.”
“Kisi na kisi ko to chađhna hi padega. Mujhe kħud par chađhne se rokna hai, to kħud mujh par aa chađho. Samjhe?”
“Yaar! Too aese mazaq mat kiyā kar.”
“Aré! Main mazaq nahinn kar rahi.”
“Satish se jhagđā ho gayā?”
Shāheen Khan ki aankhen achanak hi chhalchhalā aaīn.
Voh doosri taraf dekhne lagi.
To yah baat thī?
Afshān ko bolkar Shāheen ke saath baahar nikal aaya main.
Bahutder tak hum donon men se koi bhi nahinn bola.
Main bhi maun rahā.
Shāheen bhi kħāmosh rahī.
Hum donon chupchāp ek doosre ke saath ghoomte rahe.
Shāheen ne is taraħ mera haath pakađ rakha thā jaise use dar ho ki uske haath chhođte hi main fauran use chhođ kar bhāg nikloonga.
Yåni voh insecure maħsoos kar rahī thī kħud ko.
Iseeliye mera haath pakađ kar, is taraħ mujhe apne saath ghoomne par majboor karke, yah tasalli dena chahti thī kħud ko ki voh insecure nahinn hai. Main uske paas abhi bhi hoon.
Chūt men khujli ki baat bakvās thī.
Varna abhi tak voh mujhe kahin bhi girakar mujh par chađh baithi hoti.
“Kyon kiyā toone aesa?” Aakhir prashn kiyā maine.
“Kyā?”
“Kyon chodā nujhe girakar zabardashti?”
Shāheen Khan hansee.
“Tumhen koi lutf nahinn aaya? Mujhe to Bahutaaya.”
“Kyon kiyā?”
“Hum Musalmān lađkiyān badchalan hoti hain. Humāri Chūton men bepanāh khujli hoti hai. Use mita sakna Musalmānon ke bas ki baat nahinn hai. Isiliye hum log Hinduon se Chudvātī hain.”
Mera chehra balā ka sakħt ho utha.
“Kisne kahā aesa?”
“Kahā to Aslam ne thā. Lekin―”
“Lekin?”
Shāheen Khan chup rahī.
“Lekin?”
Shāheen kuchhh nahinn boli.
“Shāheen! Main kuchhh pooch rahā hoon.”
Shāheen ne apni Samajh men meri nigah bachakar apne aansoo ponchh liye.
“Lånat hai yaar! Mujh par, jo mujhe chod kar bhi too ro rahī hai, aur main tere aansoo bhi nahinn ponchh sakta.”
Shāheen Khan apne aap ko sambhāl kar hansee.
“Aré! Chhođo na ab is baat ko. Jo hona thā ho gaya. Satish is not the end of the world.”
“Haan bhai, B.A. men padhti hai. Thodi BahutEnglish beech beech men nahinn bolegi, to patā kaise chalegā ki B.A. kar rahī hai.”
Shāheen Khan khulkar hansee.
“Aur nahinn to kyā!” Voh fakħr se sar taan kar boli.
Tabhi Satish dikhai diya.
Shāheen Khan ne kħās taur par use sunane ke liye zor se khankhārā aur phir uski taraf munh karke zameen par thook diya.
Satish lapak kar hum donon ke qareeb aa gaya.
“Shāheen!”Voh rundhi āvāz men bolā, “I’m sorry!”
“Sab kuchhh luta ke hosh men aaye to kyā kiyā.” Shāheen Khan tarannum men gungunane lagi.
“Shāheen! Please!”
“Who are you?”
“Shāheen! Main Aslam ki baton men aa gaya thā.”
“I don’t know you.”
“Durgesh!” Satish meri taraf muda, “Isse kaho, mujhe måāf kar de. Ghalti insaan se hi hoti hai.”
“Tumne Bahutder kar di Satish! Måāfī mangne men.” Mera svar balā ka gambheer thā.
“Oh, come on, Durgesh! Main jān chuka hoon ki tum donon men koi jismani t’alluqat nahinn hain.”
“Ab hain.” Shāheen Khan kađve lahje men boli, “Go away.”
“Shāheen! Please!”
“Who are you?”
“Shāheen! Main Aslam ki baton men aa gaya thā.”
“To ab aankhen kaise khuleen aapki?”
“Aslam Hamid se kah rahā thā ki usne hum donon ko alag kar diya. Durgesh Musalmān ladkiyon ko chodne ke måāmle men Bahutbadnām hai. Usne is reputation ka fayda uthakar mere man men yah shanka dal di ki Durgesh tumhare ghar aata jaata hai. Tumhen chodne ke ålava aur kisliye aata jaata hoga.”
“Thik samjha thā tumne. Isiliye aata jaata hai Durgesh mere yahan. Main prostitute hoon. Tum akele se mera kaam nahinn chalta. Durgesh bhi chāhiyé mujhe. Ek do ke chakkar men aur hoon. Tumhārī nigahon men koi hon to batana.”
“Mujh se Bahutbađī ghalti ho gaī, Shāheen! Please! Forgive me.”
“Go away! I say! You swine!”
“Shāheen! Shāheen!”
Shāheen Khan apni sandles utārkar us par jhapti.
Satish ne apne aap ko bachāne ki koi koshish nahinn ki.
Voh kħāmoshī se Shāheen Khan ki sandles par sandles khata rahā.
Maine Shāheen Khan ko pakađne ki koshish ki to Shāheen Khan buri taraħ dahāđī.
“Chhođ do mujhe Durgesh! Main kahti hoon. Jis jahannum se main guzri hoon, mera Allah hi janta hai. Musalmānon ko chhođ kar, apni Ummat se baghāvat karke is zaleel shakhs ke paas gaī thī main. Socha thā jaisa Durgesh hai, utna na sahi, kuchhh to hoga hi Durgesh jaisa. Aesa nikla yah. Musalmānon ne ek måāmūlī si chaal chali aur yah aundhe munh ja gira. Ise yaqeen ho gaya ki main vaisi hi giri hui hoon, jaisi Musalmān mujhe bata rahe hain. Iski Samajh men yah baat nahinn aai ki apni kati naak ko chhupane ke liye Musalmān kuchhh na kuchhh to karenge. Unhone mujhe badchalan thahraya ki unka koi qasoor nahinn hai. Main hoon hi badchalan. Voh kyā kar sakte hain. Musalmān apni saazish men kāmyāb ho gaye aur main haar gaī. Main haar gaī Durgesh! Is zaleel shakhs ki vajah se.”
“Control youself Yaar!”
“Isse kah do yahan se chala jaye, varna main kuchhh kar baithoongi.”
Satish ka poora chehra aansuon se tar ho rahā thā.
Voh hichak hichak kar ro rahā thā.
“Bahutbađī ghalti ho gaī Durgesh mujhse. Bahutbađī ghalti ho gaī.”
“It’s all right. We all are human beings.”
“Human beings? He is a swine. Dirty swine, I say.” Shāheen Khan chillakar boli.
“Achchhā! Achchhā! Voh ja rahā hai yahan se. ab to control kar kħud ko yaar!”
Shāheen Khan bebasi se phaphak kar ro pađī.
Jabeen mansion!
Yeh thā us makan ka nam, jahan Shāheen Khan rahti thī aur Naziya Khan aa kar thahri thī.
Jabeen Khan, Shāheen Khan ki Ammī ka nam thā.
Bahutchahte the Shāheen ke Abbū Shoeb Khan Sāħab apni Bīvī ko.
Makan ka nam apni Bīvī ke nam par rakha jana is baat ka suboot thā.
Main Shāheen Khan ke saath Jabeen mansion men dākħil hua.
Jabeen auntie ekdam saamne hi pad gain.
“Achchhā! Achchhā! Iske saath ghoom rahī thī? Sharm nahinn aati, Shāheen, tujhe? Voh lađkī Pakistan se aakar yahan baithi hui hai. Aur tu Durgesh ke saath―”
“Koi mahmān aaya hai, auntie?”
“Isne nahinn bataya?” Jabeen auntie ne apni beti ko ghoora, “Kyon bataayegi? Bataa deti to tu ise lekar pahle hi ghar nahinn aa jaata?”
“Ammī!” Shāheen Khan protested.
“Durgesh! Bétā! Apni laadli ko zara iske room tak le jao. Vahan meri bahan ki lađkī iska intzar kar rahī hai.”
Main Shāheen Khan ko lekar uske kamre ki taraf badha.
“Aur suno.” Peechhe se Jabeen auntie ki āvāz phir mere kānon se takrai.
“Jee auntie!”
“In Sāħabzādī ko sirf pyar mat kiyā karo. Zara inke kaan bhi kheencha karo. Tum se hi milna thā isko, to tumhen bhi to bula sakti thī yahan.”
“Auntie! Yah abhi bachchī hai.”
“Bachchī hai? Ikkis saal ki poori bharpoor naujawan lađkī bachchī hai? To jawan kab hogi bétā? Jab iske pair qabr men latakne lagenge tab?”
“Chalo!” Shāheen Khan ne mera Hindu Lund pakađ kar kaskar dabaya, aur honthon hi honthon men boli, “Andar chalo auntie ke béte! Tumse nipatti hai yah auntie ki beti achchhi taraħ.”
Andar pahunchte hi Naziya Khan ke vahan hone ka koi bhi lihaz kiye baghair mujh par pil pađī auntie ki beti sachmuch hi.
“Aré! Aré! Kyā karti hai? Kyā karti hai? Yeh sab akele men. Yeh sab akele men.”
“Tum Samajh lo ki Naziya nahinn hai yahan par.”
“Aré! Kaise Samajh loon Sālī! Main―”
“Sālī? Main Sālī? To Bīvī kise banāogé? Naziya ko? Pakistani hai Naziya. Tumhare hosh thikane la degi.”
“Sorry Naziya Sāħibā!” Main Naziya Khan se bola, “Yah Sālī Bahutmunhphat hai. Main iski taraf se måāfī māngtā hoon.”
“Chalo, chalo, zyādah sharafat dikhane ki zaroorat nahinn hai. Naziya tum Hinduon ke mut’alliq sab kuchhh janti hai. Pakistan ki hi hai. Koi aese mulk ki nahinn hai, jahan Hindu shire se hon hi nahinn.”
“Aesa kaun sa mulk hai, Begum?”
Shāheen Khan mujhe paglon ki taraħ choomne lagi.
“Begum? Begum kahā mujhe? Thank you. Thank you very much. Meri Jan, Durgesh! Mere sartaj!”
“Ab bas bhi kar Sālī!”
“Phir Sālī? Demotion again? Yåni Bīvī Pakistani hi chāhiyé? Naziya! Teri kħair nahinn. Bahutbura chodta hai Durgesh.”
“Shāheen!” Naziya Khan sharm se surkħ hoti hui boli.
“Achchhā! Achchhā! Samajh gaī. Tujhe bhi sharafat dikhani hai na Durgesh ke saamne! Pahli martaba mil rahe ho tum donon. Okay! Naziya Khan Sāħibā! Yeh Durgesh hain. Practically mere ho chuke Hindu Kħasam hain. Legally Allah måālūm ban payenge ya nahinn. Lekin practically to inki parchhāīn ko bhi rahna padega. Mā badaulat ko inka Hindu Lund pasand aa gaya hai apni Chūte Muslimā ke liye.”
“Mar beħayā!” Main hansta hua bola.
“Shāheen ki bachchī!” Naziya Khan sharm se buri taraħ surkħ hoti hui boli, “Kuchhh to sharm kar. Hum donon abhi kunvari hain.”
“Sorry, Naziya! Yaar! I’m not Kunvārī any more. Durgesh ka lund kħūb ghus chuka meri men. Haan! Teri problem zaroor hai. Tu abhi bhi Kunvārī hai. Lekin yeh bhi aesa kaun sa itna bada problem hai ki hal hi na ho sake? Durgesh! Chodo isko bhi. Yeh abhi tak Kunvārī hai. Saale Pakistani nāmard abhi tak kuchhh nahinn kar sake!”
“Teri to!” Naziya Khan takiyā uthākar Shāheen Khan par jhapti.
Shāheen Khan fauran use angoothā dikhakar munh chidhati hui baahar bhag gaī.
“Taubah! Taubah! Lađkī hai ya qayāmat!” Naziya Khan ne sharm se surkħ hote hué baat sambhālne ki koshish ki, “Durgesh Sāħab! Aap jhel lete hain isko?”
“Jhelna hi padta hai. Main is par thode hi chađhta hoon. Yehi mujh par chađha karti hai.”
“Taubah! Taubah! Mera t’arruf tak nahinn karaya aap se thik se! I’m Naziya Khan from Pakistan.”
Naziya Khan ne apna daayan haath aage badhaya.
Main ne uskā daayan narmo nazuk gulābī haath mere daayen haath men lekar dabaaya.
“I’m Durgesh from Hindusthān.”
“Bađī Kħushī hui aapse milkar.”
“Mujhe aap se zyādah huī.”
“Voh kyon?” Naziya Khan sharārat bhari āvāz men boli.
Maine bina kisi ultimatum ke uskā haath pakađe hué hi mere buri taraħ thanthana rahe Hindu Lund par rakh diya.
Naziya Khan ne baukhlākar mere haath se apna haath chhudane ki koshish ki.
“Haye Allah! Yeh kyā kar rahe hain aap?”
“Pasand nahinn aaya?”
“Hāye Allah! Aap Hindu itne besharm hote ho, mujhe nahinn måālūm thā.”
“Iske pahle kisi Hindu se mulaqat nahinn hui aapki?”
“Jee nahinn.”
“Shukr hai Eīshān ka.”
“Kyā matlab?”
“Agar hoti to aap mere liye Kahān bach paatin.”
“Taubah! Durgesh Sāħab! Aap to―”
“Aji goli maariye Sāħab ko. Aap to seedhe seedhe Durgesh hi kahen mujhe.”
“Kahoongi. Kahoongi. Lekin mera haath to hatāne dijiye.”
“Kahaan se?”
“Vahin se, jahaan aap ne zabardashti rakh rakha hai, pakađ kar.”
“Aré! Aapka haath to kaanp rahā hai.”
“Mera haath nahinn kaanp rahā hai, Janab! Aapka voh thanthana rahā hai buri taraħ.”
“Aap ko kaise måālūm?”
“Mujhe kaise måālūm? Mujhe kaise måālūm?” Naziya Khan kichkichakar bolī, “Aré! Mera haath vahin rakh rakha hai aapne! Aur poochhte hain Mujhe kaise måālūm?”
“Aré! Haan! Yeh to main sachmuch hi bhool gaya thā ki aapka haath mere Hindu Lund par hai.”
“Haye Allah!”
“Kyā hua?”
“Kitne Besharm hain aap. Kitni Musalmān gānđ i Musalmān gānđ i baaten kitni aasani se kar lete hain. Hůmre Pakistan men to―”
“Yeh aapka Pakistan nahinn hai, Jānam! Yeh hůmra Hindusthan hai.”
“Jahan mahmānon ke saath aesa sulook kiyā jaata hai?”
“Kyon bhai, sulook ko kyā ho gaya?”
“Aré! Mera haath hatāne dijiye vahan se.”
“Rakhā rahne dijiye na, please! Mujhe Bahutachchhā lag rahā hai.”
“Taubah! Taubah! Main kahti hoon―”
Lekin aage kuchhh kah nahinn pāī Naziya Khan.
Iske pahle ki voh apna jumlā poora kar pati, maine ikkis saal ki us bepanāh ħaseen Pakistani Musalmān lađkī ko mere prabal Hindu bāhupāsh men samet liya.
Mere donon balā ke ushñ Hindu Purushādhar Naziya Khan ke balā ke hassen surkħ Pakistani Musalmān honthon ki taraf bađhé.
“Haye allah! chhodiye! Yeh kyā kar rahe hain aap.”
“Hindusthān Pakistan ko ‘Kħush Āmadīd’ kah rahā hai.”
“Taubah! Taubah! Is taraħ ‘Kħush Āmadīd’ kahte hain aap Hindusthāni hum Pakistaniyon ko?”
“Isse achchhā aur koi tareeqā ho hi nahinn sakta Meri Jān, Naziya Khan!”
“Khan ka kaafiya to achchhā bithala aapne Jān ke saath. Shāheen ko kyā kahte hain? Meri Jān, Shāheen Khan?”
Main hansaa.
“Mere daayen haath par karam farmaayen, please! Bahutbađī ghalti ho gaī jo aap se musaaħife ke liye haath mila baithi.”
“Pachhta rahī hain?” maine uski machhliyon jaisi bepanah ħaseen Pakistani Musalmān aankhon men jhaanka.
“Allah!” Naziya Khan chhatpataai, “Yeh kis museebat men phans gaī main?”
“Jab Pakistan vāpas jayengi, to is musibat ko yaad kar kar ke baar baar Duā karengi―
‘Us musibat men mujhe phir se phansa de ya Rub! Chāhne wala ho to phir teri Jannat hai yahin.’―”
“Allah! Allah!”Naziya Khan bebasi se boli, “Lillah, main kahti hoon―”
“Aap kuchhh na kahen, meri sarkar! Aap chup rahen aur thoda hamen kahne den.”
“Aré! Kyon mere peechhe haath dhokar pad gaye hain aap? Kyā bigada hai maine aap ka?”
“Aap ko apni donon janghon ke beech kuchhh nahinn chubh rahā?”
“Taubah! Taubah! Allah! Aap kitne besharm hain Durgesh Sāħab!”
“Aré! Meri Jān, Naziya Khan! Aur kitna tadpayegi? Savere se jab se tujhe dekha hai, Pāgal ho rahā hoon tujhe chodne ke liye main.”
“Deevaron ke kaan bhi phat gaye honge sharm se!”
“To ab apni Chūt bhi phat jane de na yaar! Jaane de mera lund uske andar.”
Naziya Khan ne apni anguliyan apne kaanon men thoonsne ki koshish ki lekin uskā ek haath to mere Hindu Lund par thā.
Ek haath se yeh kaam hone wala nahinn thā.
Achanak hi maine uskā daayan haath chhođ diya.
Usne paaglon ki taraħ fauran hataya apna haath mere Hindu Lund par se.
Kintu tabhi mera daayan haath uske donon sudaul bhare bhare Pakistani Musalmān koolhon par ja pahunchā.
“Aap se yeh guzarish karni to bekar hai ki mujhe chhođ den. Kam az kam apne haath ko hi to thodi shāistgī sikhāiyé.”
Main Naziya Khan ke donon sudaul bhare bhare Pakistani Musalmān koolhe pyaar se sahla rahā thā.
Voh chhatpata rahī thī meri bahon men.
“Main aap ko Bahutachchhā insaan samajhti thī.”
“Agar Bahutacchha insaan voh bewaqoof hota hai, jo aap ko itne qareeb paakar bhi kho de to mujhe burā hi rahne den.”
“Taubah! Bahutħāzirjawāb bhi hain aap.”
“Main Bahutkuchhh hoon meri Jān!
Yeh sach hai, lekin
Too jo mil jaye to
jeevan men bahaar aa jaye’.”
“Main Pakistani hoon.” Voh pahli martabā muskurai.
Is ħālat men muskurai ki meri daayeen hatheli uske donon bađe bađe gol bhare bhare bepanāh ħaseen Pakistani Musalmān koolhe sahla rahī thī.
Is ħālat men muskurai ki voh abhi bhi meri baahon men buri taraħ kasi hui thī mujhse.
Is ħālat men muskurai ki uski donon mount everest si sudaul nukili Pakistani Musalmān chhatiyyan mere Hindu Purush vax men buri taraħ chubh rahī thin.
Is ħālat men muskurai ki mere donon Hindu Purushādhar uske surkh Pakistani Musalmān honthon par poised the.
Is ħālat men muskurai ki mera balā ka sakħt buri taraħ thanthana rahā Hindu Lund seedha uski Chūt men chubh rahā thā.
Arthāt lađkī raazi thī.
Use aetraz nahinn thā.
Lekin kuchhh baaten thīn jinhen voh pahle hi saaf kar lena chahti thī.
Pahle hi din, pahli hi mulaqat men yeh Bahutbađī kaamyaabi thī.
Kyā mujhe lađkī ka dil rakh lena chāhiyé?
Agar voh aaj isse aage badhne se rok rahī hai, to mujhe ruk jana chāhiyé?
Kintu abhi hua hi kyā hai?
Abhi to maine is Pakistani Musalmān lađkī ke honth bhi nahinn choome.
Kintu kuchhh baaten to isse bhi Bahutaage ki ho chuki hain.
Meri daayeen hatheli uske donon bađe bađe gol bhare bhare bepanāh ħaseen Pakistani Musalmān koolhe sahla rahī thī.
Voh abhi bhi meri baahon men buri taraħ kasi hui thī mujhse.
Uski donon Mount Everest si sudaul nukili Pakistani Musalmān chhatiyyan mere Hindu Purush vax men buri taraħ chubh rahī thin.
Mere donon Hindu Purushādhar uske surkh Pakistani Musalmān honthon par poised the.
Mera balā ka sakħt buri taraħ thanthana rahā Hindu Lund seedha uski Chūt men chubh rahā thā.
Aur―AUR―usne ek baar bhi apni Chūt mere Hindu Lund se hataane ki leshmātr bhi koshish nahinn ki thī.
‘Iqrār nahinn hai kiyā toone,
phir bhi iqrār tujhe hai yeh sach,
mere honth nahinn choome toone,
Phir bhi tujhe pyaar hai, hai yeh sach.
Kuchhh dooriyan toone mitaain nahinn,
Phir bhi kitni nazdeekiyan hain,
‘Main teri hui’ na kahā toone,
Phir bhi hum ek hué yeh sach’
Achānak hi maine Naziya Khan ko poori taraħ mere Hindu bāhupāsh se mukt kar diya.
Naziya Khan jaise āsmān se giri.
“Kyā hua?” Voh hađbađākar boli.
“Aaj humāri pahli mulaqat hai. Aaj isse aage nahinn badhna chahteen na aap? Okay! Aaj sirf yahin tak.”
“Durgesh!” Naziya Khan ko jaise apne kaanon par yaqeen nahinn hua.
“It’s all right. I love you.”
“Lekin―”
“Aap bhi mujhe pyaar karne lag gaī hain. Yeh main jān chuka hoon. Isliye ise jhuthlāne ki koshish na karen. Please!”
“Lekin―lekin main―”
“Janam! I love you.”
Naziya Khan kuchhh bhi nahinn bol saki.
Bađī åjeeb si nigāhon se dekha usne meri taraf.
Is åjeeb insaan ko samajhne ki koshish kar rahī thī voh.
Ek lamhe pahle lag rahā thā, aaj hi abhi hi, sab kuchhh ho jayega.
Durgesh chod dalega use!
Durgesh use chodé bina nahinn manega.
Durgesh use chodé bina nahinn chhođega.
Aur, ab Durgesh chhođ chuka hai use!
Use chodé bina.
Uske honth tak choome bina.
Kyā soch rahī thī voh, aur kyā hua.
“S..S..Sorry!” Naziya Khan ke munh se bina kuchhh soche samjhe, beakhtiyaar nikal gaya.
“For what?” I smiled at her, “For what happened between us both?”
Naziya Khan ki palken jhuk gain.
“Aap jānte hain main kyā kahna chahti hoon.”
“Kyā kahna chahti hain aap?”
“Taubah! Bahutbure aadmi hain aap. Mujhe ekdam besharm banakar manenge.”
“Naziya!”
“Hoon!”
“Too Bahutpyaari lađkī hai.”
“Achchhā?” Naziya Khan honthon hi honthon men muskurai.
“Haan!”
“Isiliye chhođ diya mujhe beech men?”
“Too chahti thī ki main aage badhoon?”
Naziya Khan ne sharm se apna ħaseen Pakistani Musalmān chehra donon haathon se chhupa liya aur ishaare se inkaar men sar hilaya.
Main hans pada.
“There you are.”
Usne åjeeb si nigahon se meri taraf dekha.
“Naziya Khan Sāħibā!” Maine vina kisi ultimatum ke pyaar se jhukkar uske donon kħūbsūrat surkħ Pakistani Musalmān honth choom liye, “Hum donon ke beech jo bhi hoga, aap ki apni marzi se hoga. Varna kuchhh nahinn hoga.”
“Allah Qasam?”
“Eīshānasý SauMusalmān gānđ ham! Eīshānasý Shapatham!”
“Bahutkattar Hindu hain aap.” Naziya Khan hansee.
“Aap bhi to Bahutkattar Musalmān hain meri Jān!”
“Main aapki Jān nahinn, ya phir main Bahutkattar Musalmān nahinn.”
“Donon hain aap. Aap Bahū Bégumt― Bahutkattar Musalmān bhi hain aur―”
“Aur?”
“Aur Durgesh ki Jān bhi hain.”
“Durgesh ki Jān?”
“Haan!”
“Ek Pakistani Musalmān?”
“Haan!”
“Bahutkattar Musalmān?”
“Haan!”
“Durgesh ki Jān?”
“Haan! Haan! Haan!”
“I can’t believe you.”
“No differences please! No differences please! Not racial, not fathial, never one of these!”
Naziya Khan ne åjeeb si nigahon se meri taraf dekha.
I continued.
“No gender differences even I would like ever,
If she is a woman I’ll love her, it is clever.”
Naziya Khan hansee.
Main bolta rahā.
“I will give her every right whatever I have,
If she is in trouble, I would like her to save.
If she is a Muslim I’m Hindu if so what?
Together we each other will share every thought.
Don’t try to make us fight, keep both together,
Keep us happy, you will find, nice it is ever.
Don’t make it prestige point, try to make us love,
Humanity, friends, you find overall above.
Let’s laugh to each problem
Weeping never better,
Even we may solve them if,
We’ll work together.
Let’s try to find everything common we have,
Keep positive ourselves ever,
we should behave.
Try to find differences we have lots of them,
Try what we have in common,
Plenty they are same.
Try begin with common,
Try begin with common
We’ll find happiness thus,
We will be in heaven.”
Naziya Khan kissed me out of passion.
“You are great, Durgesh! Main aapke lāyaq nahinn hoon.”
“Sālī! Too kitne hi bahāne kar, main chhođunga nahinn tujhe chodé baghair.”
“Aehaehae!” Naziya Khan ne mujhe angootha dikhaya, Thenga milega tumhen mujhse. Samjhe? Thenga.
“Itni adāyen dikhāyegi to abhi chud jayegi.”
“Sharmo ħayā to bilkul gholkar pee gaye ho.”
“Aré! Kaahe ki sharmo ħayā? Ek Pakistani Musalmān lađkī ko chodnā hai mujhe. Ab ismen sharm aani hai, to use aaye. Mujhe kyon aayegi?”
“Main anguli nahinn chhoone dungi apni.”
“Chudvāyegi Sālī too mujhse!”
“Munh dho rakho! Yeh munh aur masoor ki daal.”
Achānak hi main us par jhapta.
Voh fauran jhukāī dekar bhāgī.
Maine dauđkar use peechhe se jā dabochā.
Mera Hindu Lund buri taraħ thanthana rahā thā.
Naziya Khan ke donon dilkash sudaul bhare bhare Pakistani Musalmān koolhe meri bharpoor Hindu god men aa samaaye.
Mera Hindu Lund donon koolhon ke beech balpoorvak ghusne ki koshish karne laga.
“Ae! Zara tameez se!”
“Chal―Aaī Sālī bađī mujhe tameez sikhane wali.”
Mera Hindu Lund shishnāgr se bhi thođā adhik, lagbhag poora ek chauthāī hi, kapđon ke oopar se hi uske donon koolhon ke beech samaaya hua phanphana rahā thā.
Uske donon koolhe meri god men samaa gaye the buri taraħ.
Kaskar daboch rakha thā maine Naziya Khan ko.
“Aré! Kyā karte ho? Mar jaungi.”
“Koi nahinn mari abhi tak.”
“Main mar jāūngī. Kitna lamba hai tumhara. Kitna mota hai.”
“Isiliye to marti ho tum Musalmān Laundiyāyén mujh par. Yehi to chahiye tum sabko.”
“Aré! Mujhe nahinn chāhiyé! Mujhe bakhsho.”
“To itni adāyen kyon dikha rahī thī? Nahinn chāhiyé to?”
“Aré! Main pāgal hoon. Ghalti ho gaī mujhse måāf kar do. Please!”
“Chode baghair to nahinn chhođunga. Sālī! Savere se pāgal bana rahī hai mujhe apne liye.”
“Aré! Maine kyā kiyā?”
“Sālī! Sab kuchhh toone hi kiyā. Maħsoos kar rahī hai na? Kis buri taraħ tankar phata pad rahā hai mera Hindu Lund tere liye? Tere donon koolhon ke beech phanphana rahā hai. Dekha kitna betaab ho rahā hai?”
“Dekha! Dekha! Itni buri taraħ to daboch rakha hai mujhe apni god men. Abhi bhi nahinn dekhoongi? Allah! Kitna lamba hai. Kitna mota hai. Kitna sakħt hai. Kitna mazboot hai.”
“Sālī!” Main hansa, “Tujhe patā hai? Tere donon koolhe uske aas paas kas gaye hain buri taraħ.”
“Haan to kas gaye hain, to kas gaye hain. Ab vahan jagah hi kahaan hai? God ke andar?”
“Sālī! Naziya Khan ki bachchī! Aaj teri khair nahinn!”
“Aré! Baton ke sher! Kuchhh kar ke dikhāo.”
Maine tatkāl uske urozon ka kachoomar banana shuroo kar diya usi ħālat men.
Voh buri taraħ chhatpatai.
“Durgesh! Mujhe bistar par le chalo, please! Is taraħ nahinn. Mujhe bistar par le chalo, please!”
“Sālī! Ek round pahle yahin. Bistar par iske båd. Samjhi?”
“Nahinn samjhi. Aré! Main mari ja rahī hoon.”
“Aaj ki raat too zindgi bhar nahinn bhoolegi.”
“Kyā? Poori raat bhar? Na Baba na!”
“Haan Baba haan! Savere se pāgal bana rakha hai Sali ne. Too pandrah din ke liye aai hai na? In pandrah dinon tak raat din se teri khair nahinn.”
“Main mar jāūngī.”
“Mar ja Sālī.”
“Lekin tum mujhe nahinn chhođoge?”
“Tujhe chodé baghair? Allah Allah kar, Sālī! hargiz nahinn. Prashnamev notpadyaté.”
“Aré! Sanskr’t mat bolo! Sanskr’t mat bolo! Tumhen måālūm hai ki main Pakistani hoon. Musalmān hoon. Phir bhi dhađādhađ Sanskr’t par Sanskr’t bole chale ja rahe ho. Sanskr’t bole chale ja rahe ho.”
Maine uski brassier ke andar haath dal diya.
Naziya Khan beechki.
Usne mujhse chhootkar bhāgne ki koshish ki.
Kintu kaamyaab nahinn ho saki.
Maine is buri taraħ dabocha use phir se ki uski aankhen baahar nikal aain.
“Mar gaīīīīīīīīī― Yā Allaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Naziya Khan is buri taraħ chikħī jaise main use jibah kar rahā houn.
Maine uske kħūbsūrat surkħ Pakistani Musalmān honthon men mere donon Hindu Purushādhar pravisht kar diye.
Usne kichkichākar apne sudaul bhare bhare Pakistani Musalmān koolhe kaskar meri Hindu Purush god men samaa diye aur mera Hindu Lund un ke beech buri taraħ jakađ liya.
Mere donon haath uske donon urozon ka bhurta bana rahe the.
Teen ghante!
Poore teen ghante isi ħālat men rahī Naziya Khan mere sāth.
Use aesa lag rahā thā jaise mera Hindu Lund uske donon koolhon ke beech uske apne jism ka koi alag na kiyā ja sakne wala hissa ban gaya ho.
Allah!
Allah!
Is Hindu lađke ne to aaj uske kapđe utāre baghair, use nangi kiye baghair hi, uski Gānđ mārkar rakh di, aur voh bhi poore teen ghante tak lagātār.
Taubah! Taubah!
Jab use nangi kiye baghair hi Durgesh uski aesi ħālat bana sakta hai, to use nangi karne ke båd kyā karega voh?
Ghazab ka sex hai is Hindu lađke men.
Jitna sunā thā Pakistan men, yahan Hindusthan pahunchkar paya, ki voh to usse bhi kai guna bađh chađh kar hai.
Uskā dil hi nahinn ho rahā thā ki voh apne koolhe meri god se bahar nikāle.
Koolhe bāhar nikle, to Durgesh ka Hindu Lund bhi uske koolhon ke beech se bahar nikal jayega.
Lāħaul vilā qoovat illā villāħ!
Voh phans gaī is Hindu shikari ke jaal men!
Ab kambakħt bhaagne ke mood men nazar aa rahā hai use isi ħālat men yahan akeli chhođkar.
Lekin voh bhi kaun si kam hai!
Bhaagkar to dikhaaye zara!
Aaj tujhe meri Gānđ mārne ka shauq charraya hai na?
Thik hai, aaj tu meri Gānđ hi maar.
Teen ghante to ho chuke.
Ab baaqi raat aur maar.
Main tayyar hoon isi ħālat men teri god men mere koolhe samaaye rakhne ke liye.
Aaj tere Hindu Lund ko mere in donon koolhon ke beech hi qaid rahna hoga.
Bahutkhujli ho rahī hai mere donon koolhon ke beech.
Qayaamat barpa karke rakh di hai tere Hindu Lund ne vahan.
Naziya Khan ne muskurakar meri taraf dekha, mere donon Hindu Purushādhar kħud pyar se choome aur phir apne donon koolhe is buri taraħ kaskar meri Hindu god men samaa diye, jaise ab voh unhen vahaan se kabhi alag nahinn karegi.
“Eīshān!” Main hansaa, “Meri Jān, Naziya Khan! Iraade to Bahutkhatarnak lag rahe hain ab tumhare. Kaun si nai shararat soojh gaī?”
“Ibtidāye ishq hai rota hai kyā,
Aage aage dekhna hota hai kyā’”
“Eīshān!” Main muskuraya, “Eīshān!”
“Abhi se Eīshān yaad aane laga aapko? Abhi to poori raat pađī hai Hindu Piyā!” Naziya Khan winked at me impishly, “Date raho maidan men, karte raho attack par attack, chađhe raho Naziya Khan par. Samjhe?”
Main Naziya Khan ko aankh maarkar muskura diya.
Use meri taraf kheench kar, aur bhi kaskar, meri Hindu god men daboch liya maine.
Naziya Khan Sharārat se muskura rahī thī.
Mera Hindu Lund uske donon koolhon ke beech phanphana rahā thā.
Yeh thā hum donon ka pahla din pahli raat!
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More creative adult sex in Hindi/Urdu from DSM Satyarthi:
9. Mérā Piyā ghar āyā,Yā Allah! Uiiii!-1
10. Mérā Piyā ghar āyā,Yā Allah! Uiiii!-2
11. Durgesh Sidrah Aħmad aur uski Bhābhījān-1
12. Durgesh Sidrah Aħmad aur uski Bhābhījān-2
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More creative adult sex in English from DSM Satyarthi:
1. Bahoo Bégum
3 The daughters and wife of my Musalmān friend
4.The Extramarital affair: Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah:Social Service
5. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–1
6. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–2
7. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–3
8. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–4
9. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–5
10. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–6
11. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–7
12. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–8
13. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–9
14. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–10
15.My Social Service: My Sex Empire: Durgesh
16. A Deep Conflict-1
17. A deserving unfaithfulness
19. Yåqūb Family-1
21. A secret Smile
23. My dad’s new Musalmān wife
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