Shyam Nagar ki galiyan hamesha se kuch alag si rahi hain. Narrow lanes, purani buildings, aur har mod par chhupi kahaniyan. Lekin us ek gali ka rang sabse alag tha—jahan se aksar log ya to aankhon mein sawal le kar jaate, ya phir honton pe khamoshi. Is gali mein rehti thi kuch auratein—jinhe log “naachne waali”, “item” aur kya kya kehkar bulaate the. Par unke peeche chhupi zindagi koi nahi samajhta tha.
Ek din kaafi tez baarish ke baad, Ravi, ek freelance photographer, apne naye project ke liye street-life capture karne nikal pada. Usne socha tha ki yeh sirf ek aur assignment hoga, lekin us gali ne uski soch badal di.
Ravi ne dekha ek aurat, Safed saree mein, purani dukaan ke saamne khadi thi. Uski aankhon mein kuch tha—na udaasi, na khushi. Jaise har emotion usne jee liya ho. Thoda aage badhne par, Ravi ne teen aur auratein dekhi—ek neele rang ki saree mein, dusri gheri kaali lehenga pehne, aur teesri hara rang ki chamakdaar saree mein. Unke chehre par makeup tha, lekin aankhon mein ek kahani chhupi thi. Us gali ke ek konay mein ek chhota stall tha—jahaan se soft drinks aur paani ki bottles milti thi. Wahi stall un auraton ka adda tha.
Ravi ne permission li aur unka photo liya. Unmein se ek ne muskura ke kaha, “Photo lene se hum sundar nahi ban jaate bhaiya… lekin shayad tumhare lens se sach dikh jaye.”
Ravi ne poocha, “Naam kya hai aapka?”
“Naam toh har kisi ne chhoda diya bhaiya,” usne hasa kar jawab diya, “lekin tum mujhe Rani bula sakte ho.”
Rani ne bataya ki kaise chhoti si umar mein sapna tha heroine banne ka. Film line mein ghusne aayi thi Bambai, lekin sapne ka shahar usse reality ka thappad de gaya. Jab kaam nahi mila, paise khatam ho gaye, tab kisi ne kaha ki “naachne” ka kaam mil sakta hai. Bas phir kya tha—ek shaam ka nach, dusri shaam ka gunah ban gaya. Aaj wo aur uski dostain isi gali mein apna jeevan kaat rahi hain. Kisi ki maa bimar hai, kisi ka bhai jail mein hai, aur kisi ka sapna kab ka toot chuka hai.
Wahi stall par, ek choti ladki aayi, jise dekh kar sab muskuraye. “Yeh Gudiya hai, Rani didi ki beti,” ek aurat boli. Gudiya ne Ravi ko dekh kar bola, “Aap TV waale ho kya? Mummy ke photo aayegi na?”
Ravi ka dil bhar aaya. Usne us ladki ke liye ek chocolate kharida aur bola, “Haan beta, tumhari mummy ki photo sabse achhi lagegi.”
Us shaam Ravi ghar aaya, lekin uski raat soyi nahi. Usne decide kiya ki woh un auraton ki kahani duniya ko dikhayega. Next week, usne ek photo exhibition lagayi jiska naam tha “Gali Ke Rang”. Har photo ke neeche un auraton ka ek ek line mein sach likha tha. Jaise:
> "Main Rani hoon. Heroine banna tha, lekin zindagi villain nikli."
"Main Pooja hoon. Duniya ke liye item, lekin beti ke liye poori duniya."
Log aaye, dekha, kuch roye, kuch samjhe. Kuch nahi samjhe, par kam se kam un auraton ka chehra sirf “tamaasha” nahi raha.
Ravi ka yeh kaam viral hua. Ek NGO ne Rani aur uski sahelion ke liye skill training shuru ki. Aaj woh beauty parlour chalati hain, aur Gudiya ek achchi school mein padhti hai.
Kahani ka sach yeh hai ki har chehra jo hum judge karte hain, uske peeche ek kahani hoti hai. Har gali ke rang ko samajhna zaroori hai—warna hum bas dekhte hain, samajhte nahi.
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