Tuesday, 28 July 2015

episode 206 what's your colour



holi morning is here.

khushi in her true crazy self, sanka, is talking in her sleep. i am looking at the girl sleeping by the poolside, blissfully unhampered by her predicament, planning fun merrily even in her sleep. so very endearing.

and if i may say, so damn needed.

as our world standardizes and loses flavour and colour, as all of us are so busy being "right", being perceived as being correct all the time. as how we are seen becomes more important than who and how we are... as we lose touch with ourselves, i know i sound doomy and gloomy, but posturing and being perceived a way rather than being who we really are is entering our genes sometimes i fear...

the image above all else.

in this world, i think we really need a khushi. so very human. she would have charmed a whole cave, men would refuse to go hunting and gathering i bet.

a little nutty. not always right. fighter, spirited, heart in the right place. head sharp enough but always somewhat floaty, kyunki tumhara dimaag jo pehle se hi itna kharab hai... because your brain which is damaged already, can't let it get damaged any more.  only she could have gotten a man to feel so giddily and utterly tender and loving, even when he thought she was christine keeler's guru, home wrecker, lying conniving bad five letter word.

but that screw loose brain of hers and that never wrong heart of hers, that had him feeling stuff no one could make him feel.



essential to khushi this crazy clean quotient. essential it is to asr falling for her too. this used to touch him. this was believable... every time. that a hardened man would suddenly respond to this character... there was spike in her. needed if one is to cleave that thick faraq nahin padta fortress and break down barriers of mistrust and cynicism. her aap shut ups, her crazy oh i didn't get orange juice that's why, her sitting quiet in a ditch counting the minutes, her popping out of cupboards, her chakki pisseeeng. all made a mark. and her innocence, her cleanness of heart. he could never fight that. her clear eyed fact facing, her gutsiness.

if she were just a sweet "good" girl he might have felt protective toward her but he wouldn't have fallen for her, gorgeous head over sexy heels. lagi shart?

as the scene unfolds i am thinking, she tries to find her own way through things. even hell. in minutes from now: hamare saath jo bhi ho raha hai, whatever is happening with me right, today they will get resolved. an upbeat, let me take you on life attitude. i like.

and she is instinctive. not always thinking with her grey matter, but thinking with her heart and gut. this is valuable. we are losing this all around us. too much of so called rational thinking, too little of dil.

i can't explain how much it hurt when it was decided it was okay to let this lovely character go and become "good".

"uthja khushi aaj holi hai... kitna kuchh karna hai," get up khushi today is holi... there's so much to do.

she talks away.

he awakens.

"thandai... tel lagana hai..." must make thandai... have to put oil...

"rang? sabke liye rang bhi toh kharidne hai..." colour? must buy colour for everyone. she laughs. 



"what the..." he is grouchy. they both are in such an impossible situation. maybe sleep is the only time when there's respite from a most painful reality.

"amma babu ji ke liye hara," green for amma and babu ji, declares holi girl.

he's listening..

"bua ji ke liye sandhi... jiji ke liye neela, devi maiyya ke liye laal," buaji has a colour (i don't know what that word means), payal will get blue and dm gets red. ah so she is thinking of dm, though she as we know is not talking to her. yeah, what the, just because you're god, don't think i have to be nice to you... in fact i hate you. you have done this to me. so asr hates kkg who hates dm. something so natural in that anger against her goddess whom she loves and trusts with everything.

in the bedroom, he is getting lost in this thing as he realises what's happening.

"aur hamara? hmm..." and mine? hmm.

he begins to smile. hansa toh phansa, i think... smile and you're caught.

"hamara rang hoga.. peela!" my colour will be yellow.

he's melted.

holi hai! she wakes up laughing, happy, all woes forgotten.

a very husky "pagal" as sanka realises where she is...

he must have been so happy to see her as she really is after so so long. he goes back to bed.

creatives always used the festivals well. never too heavy handed, somewhere using the essence of each occasion to take the story further. forgiving and forgetting is a part of holi. also if i am not mistaken. with the burning of holika it's as if the past mistakes are driven away, making way for the new, the future. plus of course this is the beginning of spring. winter's chill clears and makes way for sunshine. for birth and rebirth.

"kyunki bura na maano holi hai" don't mind, it's holi! khushi yells out the familiar holi call.

"shut up, khushi!"

back to nasty... for effect, bas.

"unbelievable!"

"kisse baat kar rahi ho tum?" who are you talking to?

"khud se, aur kisse!" to myself, who else.

i feel for asr. khadoos humourless man, always carrying the burden of the world on his perfect shoulders... poor baby. what does he know of sublime sanak.

"pagal ho gayi ho kya?" have you gone mad?

she smiles, "bachpan se," from childhood.

weird almost besotted grimace, "right."

"aap ko pata nahin tha?" you didn't know? she pushes. she wants something from him alright... because she knows her heart trips madly when he's around even though he has been so utterly mean and awful.

he is dying to laugh. how can you hate such a lunatic?

"aap ke liye rang chunne mein bilkul bhi waqt nahin laga, aap ko pata hai kaunsa? kala." took no time to choose a colour for you, she teases, black.

he is ready to hit her.

she runs off on a giggle, he gets up on a snarl, but his eyes, they just want her. so much.


a most poignant moment comes later, when he lowers himself to her level as she searches for her coins under the bed. and then just has to reach out and protect her head when she is about to bang it on the edge of the bed. to perfect this scene, there's humour, gussa, and all those things they say with their eyes which you can feel even when you aren't watching, just remembering them.

isn't that how love should be?
 
she breaks her gullak, piggy bank, after apologising to it, of course. she was collecting money for a gotewala saree when she turned 25? aw, buy the girl one of those right now, i say.

she drops some coins on the floor.

crawls and checks under the bed.

he walks in on cue, lost in a file. steps on piggy bank bits.

picks up piece... what?

sees her, head thrust under bed.

sits down by her... staring... what now. there's this gentle quizzical air about him. something so delicate in this frame.

she comes up jubilant with a coin, sees him and her smile freezes. a touch of comedy all through, but a deep tenderness in all of it too.

"toh tum mujhse chhup rahi thi..." so you were hiding from me. he is obviously flummoxed by this ostrich behaviour.

"haan?"

indeed.

"kyunki tum shayad haar gayi," maybe because you lost so you are embarrassed.

nothing like that, she explains about the coins and dives back under the bed to retrieve coins.

his hand stretches out to shield her from getting hurt.

she looks back at his hand, heart stopping pause.

"tum koi kaam theek se nahin kar sakti kya? sar par chot lag jaati toh?"  can't you do anything right? if you'd hurt your head?

he has to yell. concern, love, his own awkwardness at all his crazy feelings.

she's surprised... as she comes up, rabba vey fades in.

he looks at her, she is helpless in the surge of an unknown feeling that has just walked in uninvited.





he turns away, withdraws his hand, seeks his anger, his "couldn't care less", "faraq nahin padta".

she fixes her dupatta, looking down, a bit lost... touching her confusion, her yearning for what she thought might happen between them. he looks at her.



then she asks a khushi like question, there's no one here other than us, then why did you do that?

he cuts in, a rough edge to his voice, a need to shut her up, because the real answer he just can't give, "kyunki tumhara dimaag jo pehle se hi itna  kharaab hai, usse aur kharab nahin hone de sakte." because your brain, which is already damaged from before, can't let it get worse.

sounded like i adore you, i want you so bad, i can't let you be alone any more.

and her gaze and words seemed to say, if you like me so much why are you avoiding me.

one could only sigh and just keep staring at the two. so much tenderness and longing, all communicated through the eyes, and little notes in the voice.





then came the lovely encounter over 300 rupees.

"aap ke bhasha mein kya kahte hain... loan," what do you call it in your language... loan. said she, all perky and i can crack this problem like.

"oh, loan," the look on his face.

her "busines business khelna" and little promissory note, followed by his resigned, "thank you," were just too good.

"ladki mujhe pagal kar degi," the girl will drive me mad he muttered, sounded as though he invited the predicament with open arms.

where did they find this tenderness?

that was his colour today surely.



where are these guys.

nani ji is upset. her holi box with pichkari waits. no doubt khushi who talks to goats seriously will find a way to appease her.


episode opened on snake and the one he has charmed... anjali. every word of hers riled him. he was going to do something about khushi ji. and finally he walked in wearing white, kala of heart, red on his hand.

apparently he will be the first to put colour on khushi. she froze, then found a way to vanish in the nick of time. but not before two very angry eyes had seen the whole thing. eyes that turn to puddles when she does crazy things. eyes she can't look into and not feel her heart race. but for now, his gaze is fixed on a cretin. gussa reddens the air. let's play holi.

 



 

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