Ustaad Ji

Ustaad Ji itne puraan the ki school ki neenv mein in ka naam hoga. Aur itne shafeeq the ki daant bhi pyaar se lagta tha. Sabne unhe "Ustaad Ji" kaha — class mein, gali mein, baazar mein. Asli naam kisi ko yaad nahin tha. Shayad khud unhe bhi nahin. Unki tehrir aisi thi jaise khatauti par likha ho. Kitaabon ka maza unhe aasman ka sa lagta tha. Jab Ghalib ka sher padhte the to aankhein band ho jaati thin — aur class ko khyal aata tha ki so gaye. Lekin ek pal baad aankhein khultin aur kehte: "Samjhe? Yahi zindagi hai, beta." Retire hone ke baad bhi madarse ke gird ghoomte rahe. Koi poochhe to kehte: "Ghar mein kya karun? Wahan koi sher nahin sunta." Aakhri saal jab aankhen kamzor ho gain to bhi class mein aate raha — sirf sunne ke liye. "Ustaad Ji, ab kya sikh rahe hain?" "Abhi bhi seekh raha hun — tum logon se."