​⚠️ Readers Ke Liye Zaroori Note:

Ye story Maut ka Tohfa Suspense Story ka Final Part hai.

Agar aap direct is page par aa gaye hain aur aapne is suspense story ka pehla aur doosra part nahi padha hai, toh plot aur mystery ko poori tarah samajhne ke liye please pehle Part 1 & Part 2 zaroor padh lein.

​🔗 Part 1 Padhne Ke Liye Yahan Click Karein:

Maut ka Tohfa Suspense Story – Part 1

🔗 Part 2 Padhne Ke Liye Yahan Click Karein:

Maut ka Tohfa Suspense Story – Part 2

Ladka bilkul sach bol raha tha. Uska us parcel bomb se dur dur tak koi lena dena nahi tha. Uska gussa sirf ek temporary heartbreak ki wajah se he tha.

March ka mahina khatam ho raha tha aur April ki shuruat ho rahi thi. Dehradun ke local newspapers aur news channels par Rajpur Police ke failure par thu-thu ho rahi thi. Media lagatar headlines chala rahi thi ki shaadi wale ghar mein do mauton ke baad bhi police andhere mein teer chala rahi hai aur police ke haath abhi tak kuch bhi nahi laga.

Inspector ne thak kar apni chair par sar piche tikaya. N.K. Sharma ka naam fake nikla tha, Chandigarh ka address farzi tha, aur ab yeh love angle bhi ek total dead end ban chuka tha.

April ki ek raat ko, Rajpur Police Station mein faili files ke dher ke beech ek baat saaf thi ke qatil koi aam dushman nahi hai, balki ek aisa dimaag hai jo har ek kadam police se aage chal raha tha.

April ki shuruat Dehradun mein halki garmi lekar aayi thi, par Dehradun Police Headquarter ke andar ka mahaul behad garm aur tanaav bhara tha. Local media ke teekhe sawalon, akhbaron ki surkhiyon aur aam janta ke gusse ne sarkari mehkame ki neend uda di thi.

Do mauton aur ek naye naveli dulhan ki zindagi tabaah hone ke baad bhi local police ke haath bilkul khali the. Is nakaami ka nateeja yeh hua ki pichle Inspector ko turant hataya gaya aur case ko officially “Crime Branch” ke hawale kar diya gaya.

Case ki kamaan di gayi Senior Lead Officer Vikram Rathore ko. Rathore apni sateek jaanch, thande dimaag aur uljhe hue cases ko suljhane ke liye pure Uttarakhand mein mashhoor the.

​April 2 ki dopahar, Vikram Rathore apni team ke saath Rajpur Road pe sthit Rawat Estate pahunche. Peeli crime scene tape ab bhi wahan latak rahi thi, par uska rang ab dhundla pad chuka tha.

Rathore ne rasoi ke andar qadam rakha. Har taraf kaala barood, jali hui lakdi aur tabaahi ke nishaan ab bhi maujood the. Unhone lagbhag do ghante tak ek ek deewar, sink ka kona aur counter check kiya. Physical clues lagbhag khatam ho chuke the, isliye Rathore ne files ke dher ko naye sire se khangalna shuru kiya.

Rathore ne sabse pehle us aadhe jale hue courier receipt par focus kiya. Unki team ne investigation ko agle level par le jaate hue us private courier service ka pata lagaya jahan se yeh maut ka parcel bheja gaya tha. Yeh Chandigarh ke ek busy ilaake mein sthit “SkyKing Courier” ki branch thi.

​Rathore ne turant Crime Branch ki ek team ko Chandigarh ke us office me bheja.

Officers ne wahan pahunchkar February 15 ke saare consignment registers aur digital entries ko apne kabze mein le liya. System mein saaf likha tha ki February 15 ki dopahar ko ek parcel book kiya gaya tha, jisme sender ka naam tha “N.K. Sharma”. Lekin jab Chandigarh police ne receipt par diye gaye address aur phone number ko physically verify kiya, toh unke hosh ud gaye.

Jo phone number likha tha, woh kisi gumshuda sim card ka tha jo mahino se band tha, aur jo address tha, woh Chandigarh ke Sector 17 ka ek aisa kona tha jahan is naam ka koi makaan ya insaan kabhi rehta hi nahi tha. Sab kuch puri tarah se farzi tha.

Vikram Rathore ne Chandigarh office mein maujood apni team ko phone kiya, “Mujhe us booking ke din ka CCTV footage chahiye. Mujhe us insaan ka chehra dekhna hai jo woh box lekar aaya tha.”

Courier company ka owner darr se kaanp raha tha. Usne jo bayaan diya, usne Rathore ko andar tak hila diya. Owner ne bataya, “Sir, hamare office ka CCTV camera pichle 4-5 mahino se kharab pada hai. Humne use theek hi nahi karwaya.”

Yeh baat jab officer ne Rathore ko batayi to Rathore ne gusse mein apne office ke deewar par haath maara aur kaha ki yeh system ki bohot badi laparwahi thi.

Qatil ko acche se pata tha ki is office mein koi camera kaam nahi kar raha hai, isiliye usne issi jagah ko chuna tha.

Isse bhi bada jhatka tab laga jab officers ne parcel ke travel route ki jaanch ki. Courier company ke saste aur bheed-bhaad wale network ke mutabiq, woh parcel kisi secure cargo plane ya scanner equipped truck se nahi bheja gaya tha. Woh parcel interstate aur local private buses ke jariye transport kiya gaya tha.

Lagbhag 3 se 4 alag alag transits aur buses badal kar us box ne Chandigarh se Dehradun tak ka safar tay kiya tha.

Pure raaste mein kisi bhi bus stand ya courier hub par kisi bhi tarah ki scanning, X-ray, ya security check nahi hui thi. Yahi wajah thi ki kisi ko bhi andaza nahi hua ki is cardboard box ke andar ek bomb chhupa hua hai. Qatil ne system ke is loophole ka poora faayda uthaya tha.

Issi dauran, Cyber Cell ne ek chota sa lead nikaala. Parcel ki tracking ID ko delivery se pehle do baar online search kiya gaya tha. IP address ko trace karne par pata chala ki yeh search Dehradun se 120 kilometer dur, Vikasnagar ke ek private computer institute se kiya gaya tha.

​Rathore ko laga ki shayad qatil wahan baithkar bomb ki delivery ka intezar kar raha tha. Unhone turant Vikasnagar mein raid maari, institute ke computers aur registers check kiye. Magar ghanton ki jaanch ke baad pata chala ki yeh koi human search nahi tha, balki courier company ka jo automated hub tracking system hota hai, usne data transfer ke waqt automatic us server se connectivity li thi. Yeh bhi ek dead end nikla. Rathore ki frustration ab apne charam par thi.

April 4 ki shaam ko Dehradun Police Headquarter mein ek anjaan dakiya ek brown envelope chodh kar gaya. Us envelope ke upar koi naam ya pata nahi tha, bas do shabd bade aksharon mein printed the:

“IMPORTANT LETTER”.

​Vikram Rathore ne apne office mein baithkar jab us chitthi ko khola, toh unka dimaag sunn reh gaya. Woh puri tarah se computer par printed thi. Usme likha tha:

​“Tum sab ke sab bewakoof ho. Dehradun Police aur Crime Branch andhere mein teer chala rahi hai. Tum sab sender ka naam N.K. Sharma padh rahe ho, par tumhari aankhein kharab hain. Woh naam actually N.K. Sinha hai. Us insaan ke paas us naam ka ek fake Aadhaar card bhi hai.”

Rathore ne turant magnifying glass uthaya aur original courier receipt ki forensic photo ko dhyan se dekha. Unki aankhein fati ki fati reh gayi.

Jo naam sabko ‘Sharma’ lag raha tha, woh darasal itni gandi aur messy handwriting mein likha gaya tha ki use dhyan se dekhne par ‘Sinha’ padha ja sakta tha. Qatil ne jaan bujhkar yeh trap lagaya tha taaki police Sharma ke naam ke peeche bhaage aur Qatil safe rahe.

Chitthi mein aage aur bhi likha tha ki:

​​“Is kaam ko Chandigarh se teen logon ne milkar anjaam diya hai taaki koi pakda na ja sake. Aur tum puch rahe ho ki motive kya hai? Yeh ek bohot bada dhokha hai. Crores ki property ka vivaad tha jise chupaya gaya. We are successfully undertaking the project of destroying this family. Kanoon bilkul bekaar hai, isliye humein yeh kadam uthana pada. After completing the project, no one will be left alive. Agar hum unke pure parivar ko bhi maar dein, toh bhi hamare nuksaan ki bharpaai nahi ho sakti. Chup chaap baith jao aur beqasoor logon ko pareshan karna band karo.”

Rathore ne chitthi ko table par rakha aur unki aankhon mein ek chamak uthi. Unhe acche se pata tha ki yeh chitthi koi shararat nahi hai. Is chitthi mein parcel booking aur fake Aadhaar card ka jo zikr tha, woh baatein police ne media se kabhi share hi nahi ki thi. Yeh andar ki details sirf 2 hi logon ko pata ho sakti thi ek investigation officer ko, aur ek us qatil ko jisne woh bomb pack kiya tha.

​Qatil behad confident tha aur woh police ke saath ek ‘cat and mouse’ ka khel khelna chahta tha.

April 4 ki us sunehri raat ko, Vikram Rathore apne office ke night lamp ki halki peeli roshni mein us printed chitthi ko lagatar ghur rahe the. Jo qatil ab tak poori tarah gayab tha, jiske baare me abhi tak kuch bhi nahi pata chala tha bas ek farzi naam tha, us qatil ne aaj pehli baar par apna asli footprint chodh diya tha.

April 5 ki subah Rajpur Road par halki dhundh thi, jab Crime Branch Lead Officer Vikram Rathore apni gaadi se Rawat Estate ke bahaar utre. Ghar ka woh vishaal aangan, jo kuch hafte pehle shaadi ki raunak se chahak raha tha, aaj bilkul sunsaan tha. Rathore ne gehri saans li aur ghar ke andar dakhil hue.

Living room mein ek ajeeb si khamoshi thi. Shalini Rawat unke samne aakar baithi, unki aankhon ke neeche kaale dark circles saaf bata rahe the ki woh kayi dino se soyi nahi hain. Rathore ne Shalini ko us letter ke baare mein kuch bhi nahi bataya.

Rathore ne bohot hi dheemi aur professional aawaz mein sawaal shuru kiya. “Shalini ji, mujhe is mushkil waqt mein aapse kuch behad zaroori sawaal poochne hain. Kya aapke ya aapke pati ke parivar mein koi aisi zameen, jaidad ya property ka mamla hai jahan koi anban chal rahi ho? Ya koi aisa chupa hua financial dushman jiske sath bada len den baaki ho?”

​Shalini Rawat ne Rathore ko dekha, unka lahja bilkul calm aur saaf tha. “Nahi, Rathore saab. Hamare parivar mein ya hamari profession mein kisi ke sath koi property dispute nahi hai.

Ravindra ek seedhe saadhe biology professor hain aur main college mein principal hoon. Hamari apni ek-ek zameen aur is ghar ke kaagaz bilkul saaf hain. Hamara koi aisa dushman nahi hai jo property ke liye aisi darindgi karega.”

Rathore ne unke bayaan ko dhyan se suna, apni notebook mein note kiya, aur bina koi aur sujhav diye wahan se nikal gaye.

​Shalini Rawat ne property ke vivaad se saaf inkaar kar diya tha, isliye Crime Branch ki SIT (Special Investigation Team) ko laga ki shayad us gumnam letter mein likhi baatein sirf jaanch ka dhyan bhatkane ke liye thi.

April ke agle do hafte Crime Branch ne ek bohot bada aur parallel manhunt shuru kiya.

SIT ki alag alag teams ne Chandigarh, Delhi, Ambala aur Dehradun samet char bade sheharon mein dauda daudi ki. 100 se zyada door ke rishte daaron, doston aur padosiyon se kadi puch taach hui.

SIT ki puri team ne lagbhag 1000 se zyada Call Detail Records (CDR) ko ghanton baithkar scan kiya taaki koi purani dushmani ya koi ajeeb phone call pakad mein aa sake. Lekin is puri bhaag daud ka nateeja bilkul shunya nikla. Har ek rasta ek dead end par khatam ho raha tha.

​April ke aakhri hafte mein, saare raaste band hone ke baad, Vikram Rathore ek baar phir Rajpur Road sthit Rawat Estate pahunche. Woh living room mein Shalini Rawat ke samne dobara baithe. Is baar Rathore ka rukh thoda zyada sangeen tha. Unhone ghum-phira kar wahi sawaal naye tareeqe se puchna shuru kiya.

​”Shalini ji, aap ek baar phir se thode thande dimaag se sochiye. Kya pata Sameer ne Bangalore mein koi investment ki ho jiske baare mein aapko andaza na ho? Ya koi aisi pushtaini zameen jahan aapke bhaiyon ke sath dushmani chal rahi ho? Aisa ho hi nahi sakta ki itna bada hamla bina kisi wajah ke ho jaye.”

​Shalini Rawat, jo pehle se hi bete ke gham mein andar se mar chuki thi, ab lagatar ek hi sawaal ko sunkar puri tarah se irritate ho gayi. Unka sabar tut gaya aur unhone apna chashma table par patka aur gusse mein Rathore se kaha ki.

“Rathore saab! Jab main aapko pehle he mulaqat mein repeatedly bata chuki hoon ki hamara koi property issue nahi hai, toh aap iss baat ko baar baar kyun dohra rahe hai?

Kyun baar baar wahi sawaal ghumakar puch rahe hain? Do you think we are lying to you?

Mera eklauta jawan beta chala gaya, meri saas chali gayi… kya aapko lagta hai ki hum aapse jhoot bolenge is haalat mein?! Hamara beta mar gaya hai Rathore saab, hum jhoot kyun bolenge?!”

​Rathore ne unke gusse ko dekha aur apne haath hawa mein uthaye. “Shalini ji, aap shant ho jaiye. Main aapko pareshan nahi karna chahta. Lekin main aise hi hawa mein sawaal nahi puch raha hoon. Sachai yeh hai ki Crime Branch ko ek gumnam chitthi mili hai, jisme qatil ne bohot daave ke sath likha hai ki yeh crores ki property ke dispute ka nateeja hai. Humne is baat ko sabse chupa kar rakha tha.

“Yeh sunte hi Shalini Rawat ko ek gehra jhatka laga. Unka gusse ekdum se hairani mein badal gaya. Unhone aage jhukte hue kaha, “Gumnam letter? Kisne bheja hai? Mujhe woh letter dikhaiye, main use padhna chahti hoon.”

​Rathore ne apne bag se us printed letter ki ek copy nikaali aur table par rakh di. Shalini ne gehari saans li, apna reading glasses pehna aur kaanpte haathon se us paper ko uthaya. Unhone us par printed English ke shabdon ko bohot bariki se padhna shuru kiya.

Chitthi ke aakhri hisse mein jab unki nazar gayi, toh unki aankhein ek jagah freeze ho gayi.

Unhone un lines ko dobara padha, aur phir unke hothon se woh shabd dheere dheere par saaf aawaz mein baahar nikle:

​“Undertaking the project… completing the project…”

Unhone paper ko wahi roka aur unka dimaag bohot tezi se piche chal rahi college ke administrative files aur official chitthiyon ki taraf doud gaya. Unhone ek baar phir zor se unhi shabdon ko dohraya, “Undertaking the project… completing the project… Yeh kaise ho sakta hai?”

Shalini ne letter ko table par rakha aur unhone shock mein Vikram Rathore ki taraf dekha. Unki aankhon mein ek chamak si aa gayi thi.

“Rathore saab… yeh words, ‘Undertaking the project’ aur ‘completing the project’… yeh letter ho na ho unhi ka hai. Meri puri zindagi college ke administrative kaamon mein beeti hai, aur main is phrase ko hazaaron mein se pehchan sakti hoon.”

Rathore ne pucha, “Kaun hai woh, Shalini ji? Kiska naam dimaag mein aa raha hai aapke?”

Shalini ne saaf aawaz mein bataya, “Pradeep Joshi.

Woh hamare college ke ex-principal aur English ke senior lecturer hain. Unhe har official letter mein, har speech mein, aur daily conversation mein ‘Undertaking the project’ bolne ka ek ajeeb obsession hai.

Jab unhe college ke funds ke scam ke mamle mein principal post se hataya gaya tha, tab meri aur unki professional rivalry hui thi. Unhone mujhe pure staff ke samne barbad karne ki dhamki di thi.”

Ye sun ke Vikram Rathore ne Shalini ji se Pradeep Joshi ka phone number and ghar ka address liya aur unki Crime Branch ki team ke saath uske ghar pohoch gaye.

April 24 ki dopahar, Rathore aur Crime Branch ki team ne Pradeep Joshi ko unke ghar se round up kiya aur seedhe interrogation room mein le gaye.

Kamre ke beechon beech ek lohe ki table thi, jiske upar ek tez bulb jal raha tha. Pradeep Joshi uss table ke uss taraf baithe hue they.

Rathore ne Pradeep se ek gehri aur kadak aawaz me pucha ki batao kya ye letter tumne likha hai?

Iss per Pradeep Joshi ne Vikram Rathore se kaha:

​”Rathore saab, aap mujh par galat shaq kar rahe hain! Ye letter maine he likha hai par maine apni marzi se nahi likha hai balki mujhse zabardasti ye letter likhwaya gaya hai.

Main sach keh raha hoon mera yakeen kare aap. Ek shaam jab main apni daily evening walk par nikala tha, toh jangal ke paas ek anjaan aadmi ne mujhe roka. Uske haath mein ek chaku tha.

Usne mujhe jaan se maarne ki dhamki di aur kaha ki agar maine yeh letter type karke police station nahi bheja, toh woh mere parivar ko khatam kar dega! Main darr gaya tha sir, isliye maine uske kahe mutabiq yeh letter type kar ke police station me bhej diya. Mera is bomb se koi lena-dena nahi hai!”

Vikram Rathore ne jab Pradeep ki is kahani ko suna to unke chehre par ek thandi aur sakht muskaan aayi. Unhe is ki baat par bilkul yakeen nahi aaya.

Unhone piche mudkar apne junior officer ko ishara kiya, “Rahul, Pradeep Joshi ji ki real time mobile tower locations aur unke call records ki technical report taiyyar hai?”

​”Haan, sir. Technical team ne report just abhi room mein hand over ki hai,” ye keh kar junior officer ne ek file Rathore ke haath mein pakda di.

​Rathore ne table par thoda aur jhuk kar Joshi ki aankhon mein dekha, unka lahja bilkul thanda tha. “Joshi ji, aapki yeh walk wali kahani bohot hi bekaar hai. Chaliye, ab dekhte hain ki aapka mobile phone us din kis tower ke paas khada tha. Aapka fake story ab khatam ho chuka hai.”

Vikram Rathore ne file ko khola aur bade hi aaram se uske panno ko palatne lage. Interrogation room ki tez peeli light Pradeep Joshi ke chehre par pad rahi thi, jahan paseene ki boondein ab jam chuki thi. Rathore ne ek sateek report nikaali aur use Joshi ke bilkul samne table par rakh diya.

“Joshi ji, aapki yeh walk wali kahani bohot hi dilchasp thi, par afsos, yeh puri tarah se bakwas hai,” Rathore ne aage jhukte hue kaha, unki aawaz mein ek thandi dhar thi.

“SIT ki technical team ne aapke phone ka pura data nikaal liya hai. February 15, yaane jis din Chandigarh se woh maut ka tohfa parcel me book hua tha, aapka mobile phone subah se lekar raat tak aapke Dehradun wale ghar ke tower location par hi dikha raha tha. Ekdum stationary, bina kisi movement ke.”

Joshi ne thoda sukoon ki saans lene ki koshish ki, par Rathore ne turant dusra panna unke samne rakha. “Aapne socha ki phone ko ghar par chodh kar aap safe saboot bana lenge, hai na? Par aap ek purane zamane ka dimaag chala rahe the.

Humne Railway Security aur ticketless travel logs ko khangala hai. February 14 ki raat ko aapne koi ticket nahi khareedi taaki koi electronic trace na bache, par Haridwar-Chandigarh route ki har ek CCTV camera aapke is chehre ko capture kar rahi thi. Aap physically us train mein baith kar Chandigarh gaye the, jabki aapka phone Dehradun mein aaram kar raha tha.”

Room mein ek bhaari khamoshi chha gayi. Pradeep Joshi ka woh shareef, dare-hue teacher ka mukhota ek jhatke mein utar gaya. Uske chehre ki ghabrahat achanak ek thandi, ghinoni aur bekhauf muskaan mein badal gayi.

Usne apni peeth ko chair se tikaya, dono haath piche kiye aur ek ajeeb hi garv ke sath hansa.

​”Maan gaye, Rathore saab. Crime Branch ne sach mein mehnat ki hai,” Joshi ki aawaz ab bilkul badal chuki thi. Usme koi darr nahi tha, sirf ek bimar dimaag ka ghamand tha.

“Haan, maine hi kiya tha woh sab. Aur mujhe is baat ka koi afsos nahi hai.”

Rathore ne apna pen uthaya. “Kyun, Joshi? Ek innocent ladka, ek dadi… unka kya qasoor tha?”

​”Qasoor tha us Shalini ka!” Joshi chillaya, uski aankhon mein barson ki nafrat utar aayi.

“Main 2009 se Jyoti Vikas College ka Principal tha. Pure college mein mera rob tha, meri kursi thi. Aur phir 2014 mein woh Shalini Rawat ek ordinary history lecturer ban kar aayi.

Government ke naye rules aaye, aur woh mujhse 13 saal senior hone ki wajah se legally us Principal ki kursi ke layak ho gayi. Mera ego, meri izzat, mera pride… sab usne ek jhatke mein mitti mein mila diya.”

Joshi ne ek gehri saans li, uski ungliyan table par chal rahi thi. “Maine teen saal tak use pareshan kiya. Us par fake allegations lagaye, college ki deewaron par uske khilaf gande shabd likhe, par woh peeche nahi hati. Jab mujhe zabardasti us kursi se hataya gaya, toh mera wajood khatam ho gaya tha. Main har raat sirf badle ke baare mein sochta tha. Shalini ko rulaana tha mujhe, use aisi takleef deni thi ki woh har din tadpe.”

Rathore ne pucha, “Toh tumne bomb banane ka faisla kiya?”

​”Haan,” Joshi ne muskaan ke sath qabool kiya. “Jab mujhe late 2017 mein pata chala ki uske laadle bete Sameer ki shaadi Feb 18, 2018 ko taye hui hai, toh mujhe mera mauka mil gaya.

Maine socha ki inki khushiyon ko aisi raakh mein badlunga ki pura Dehradun dekhega.

Maine pure ek saal tak internet par Bomb Making Tutorials dekhe, VPN use kiya aur daily apni search history delete karta tha.

Diwali ke waqt maine dher saare patakhe khareede, unhe aaram se baithkar dismantled kiya aur unka saara gunpowder nikaal liya.”

​Joshi ne puri process ko aise bayaan kiya jaise woh koi bada academic project samjha raha ho. “Maine us gunpowder ko decorative LED lights ke andar pack kiya, ek zinc-chloride battery lagayi, aur ek micro-switch ko us safed dhaage se connect kar diya. Woh carton box bhi maine college ke store room se churaya tha taaki koi dukan wala mujhe pehchan na sake.”

​”Aur Chandigarh ka rasta kyun chuna?” Crime Branch ke Officer ne pucha.

​”Kyunki mujhe pata tha ki SkyKing Courier wale saste network ke liye local public buses ka use karte hain. Unke paas koi parcel scanner nahi hota.

February 15 ko main Chandigarh gaya, wahan maine apna naam ‘N.K. Sinha’ likha. Maine jaan bujhkar itni gandi aur messy handwriting banayi ki woh ‘Sharma’ dikhe, taaki tum log Sharma ke naam ke peeche bhaagte raho aur main aaram se Dehradun mein baithkar tamasha dekhun.

Aur pata hai Rathore saab? Main toh February 18 ko Sameer ki shaadi mein bhi gaya tha, unhe aakhri baar haste hue dekhne, kyunki mujhe pata tha ki yeh hasi bohot jald cheekhon mein badalne wali hai.”

Joshi ki yeh darindgi sunkar interrogation room mein khade baaki Officers ke jism mein ek lava phute aisa ghussa doudne laga. Uska ego itna bada tha ki use do mauton ka koi pachtawa nahi tha.

​Uske is pure bayan ke baad, Vikram Rathore ne turant Crime Branch ki ek badi team ke sath Pradeep Joshi ke rented house par raid maari.

Wahan se Joshi ka laptop, printer, patakhon ke bache hue khali khokhe aur wahi khaki tape baramad hua, jo bilkul FSL ki blast site se mili report se match kar raha tha.

Saare digital aur physical saboot ab lock ho chuke the. Late raat ko, Vikram Rathore ne Pradeep Joshi ke arrest memo par sign kiya. Unhone pen ko table par rakha aur glass se paani piya. Unka dimaag sunn tha.

Ek choti si professional jealousy, ek kursi ka ghamand aur ek wounded ego ne kaise ek haste-khelte, masoom parivar ko hamesha ke liye ujhad diya tha.

Joshi ko jail ke lockup mein le jaya ja raha tha, par Rawat Estate ka woh sannata ab kabhi khatam nahi hone wala tha. Crime Branch ne case toh suljha liya tha, par is sach ne har ek ke dil par ek gehra aur kabhi na mitne wala zakhm chodh diya tha.

Dehradun Sessions Court ke kamre mein hamesha ki tarah bhari bheed thi, par us din mahaul mein ek ajeeb sa bhari pan tha.

Vikram Rathore aur Crime Branch ki team ne jo thos saboot aur technical reports adalat ke samne pesh kiye, unhone qatil ko bachne ka koi rasta nahi choda.

Pradeep Joshi adalat ke katghare mein khada tha. Uske chehre par na toh koi darr tha, na hi koi pachhtawa. Woh ab bhi usi ghamand ke sath seedha khada tha, jaise usne koi apradh nahi, balki koi bada maqsad pura kiya ho.

Judge ne apni aakhri ruling padhte hue Pradeep Joshi ke is karname ko “Rarest of Rare” mamla qarar diya.

Adalat ne saaf kaha ki ek teacher hokar, sirf ek kursi aur toxic ego ke chalte, is insaan ne pure hosh-o-hawaas mein ek masoom parivar ko tabaah kiya.

Judge ne hathode ko zor se mara aur Pradeep Joshi ko maut ki saza (Death Penalty) sunayi gayi.

Jab phansi ka elaan hua, tab bhi Joshi ke chehre par ek feeki, ghinoni muskaan thi. Faisla aa chuka tha, kanoon ne apna kaam kar diya tha, par kya is insaaf ne us parivar ko wapas lautaya?

Faisle ke kai mahino baad, Rajpur Road sthit Rawat Estate ka nazaara puri tarah badal chuka tha. Woh ghar jo kabhi gende ke phoolon aur lights se jhilmila raha tha, aaj waha ek bhoot bangle jaisa khamosh mahol tha.

Deewaron ke rang dhoop aur barish mein feeke pad chuke the. Rasoi ka woh hissa, jahan blast hua tha, use hamesha ke liye ek bhari lohe ke taale se band kar diya gaya.

Ravindra Rawat aur Shalini Rawat ab us vishaal ghar mein do chalti firti laashon ki tarah reh rahe the. Dono aamne samne baithte, par ghanton ek dusre se ek shabd bhi nahi bolte. Unki aankhon ka paani sookh chuka tha.

Shalini Rawat ne us haadse ke turant baad apne Principal ke pad se hamesha ke liye resignation de diya. Jis kursi, jis power aur jis administrative position ke ghamand ne unke jawan bete ko unse chheen liya tha, aaj us kursi se unhe nafrat ho chuki thi.

Woh niyam, woh anushasan jo kabhi unki pehchan thi, aaj unhe wo ek mazaak lagne laga.

​Wahi dusri taraf, Riya apne Papa ke ghar ke ek chote se kamre mein baithi thi. Uske seene aur baahon ke jale hue nishaan ab dheere dheere physical tor par bhar rahe the, par uski rooh par jo zakhm lage the, unka koi ilaaj nahi tha.

Uske haath mein unki shaadi ka album tha. Woh un tasveeron ko ghoor rahi thi jisme Sameer uski aankhon mein dekh kar muskura raha tha.

Riya ke kaano mein aaj bhi har raat, har ghante, wahi ek aawaz goonjti thi… Sameer ke woh aakhri kaanpte hue alfaaz: “Riya… tum… theek ho..?”

​Woh uss din khud to bach gayi thi par wo Sameer ko nahi bacha paayi thi, aur yeh dard use andar hi andar har pal kaat raha tha.

Lekin Riya ne harna nahi seekha tha. Usne dheere dheere stand par khade hone ki koshish shuru ki. Woh ab ek local school mein bacho ko padhane lagi thi.

Yeh koshish kisi khushi ya kamyaabi ke liye nahi thi, balki sirf isliye thi taaki woh Sameer ki yaadon ko apne andar zinda rakh sake aur is lambi, akele zindagi ko kaat sake.

Insaan ka dimaag bhi kitna ajeeb hai. Power, chairs, aur administrative positions toh aani jaani cheezein hain. Aaj koi is kursi par baitha hai, toh kal koi aur baithega.

Lekin jab ek insaan apney pure wajood aur identity ko us lakdi ki kursi se baandh leta hai, toh woh apni insaniyat kho baithta hai.

Pradeep Joshi ek padha likha insaan tha aur ek Principle bhi tha, par jab uske ghamand aur ghayal ahankar ko thes pahunchi, toh uski har ek shiksha ek zehar mein badal gayi.

Ek choti si professional jealousy aur ego ne ek jawan bete ko maut ki neend sula diya, ek dadi ki saansein chheen leen, ek naye naveli dulhan ke aanchal ko raakh kar diya, aur ek haste khelte parivar ko hamesha ke liye maut ke sannaate mein duba diya.

Insaaf toh adalat ne de diya, par Rajpur Road ke us purane ghar ke andhere kone mein khadi khamoshi aaj bhi har aane jaane wale se ek hi sawaal puchti hai.

kya kisi insaan ka ego, kisi ki zindagi se bhi bada ho sakta hai?

End of the Story

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Padhne ke liye shukriya. Jude rahein, agli mystery on the way hai!

English Thriller Readers Ke Liye Ek Khaas Suggestion:

Agar aapko Hindi ke saath-saath English mein bhi dark aur suspenseful stories padhne ka shauk hai, toh meri doosri website par is kahani ko zaroor try karein. Ye ek alag level ka experience degi!

“A Dead Crorepati, Missing ₹14 Lakhs, & A Cheap Nylon Rope? (Part 1)”

(Read in English)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Usama Deshmukh

Chief Author

Main Usama hoon, StoryQuirk ka Chief Author. Mera passion aisi deep aur darawni crime stories, berehmi se bhari murder mysteries, aur dark suspense thrillers likhna hai jo aakhir tak aapki saansein atka kar rakhein. Meri StoryQuirk ki duniya mein utar jaiye, aur inn mazedar crime aur suspense stories ka maza lijiye.