Friday, 7 August 2015

episode 180 games people play

she laughed at him, he wiped his haldi off with her dupatta, he opened her hair, she kissed him, he felt lost, she felt lost, he wanted to be with her, she left with another man, he worried about her, he thought he'd lost her, she wanted to know why it mattered, he couldn't tell her, she was mad at him, he pulled a glass piece out of her wrist, she felt things, he gave her bangles, she wore them, his first gift to her, her first smile for him though she had no idea, she fainted, he fretted.

what a day it's been in the life of asr and khushi. or should one say in their love life... or hate love life. and now with this cheap and simple prop... bangles... one of the sweetest episodes ever. so quintessentially boy meets girl romance. heady sweet sexy naughty, saucy, you wonder when it will happen to you. and if it's happened already you recall details of those early days of i like you do you like me?

only at the end of a day like this you don't usually bump into jija ji while stalking out of a tryst by a pool.

that meeting at the end gives the episode structure, a depth, a sophistication (okay, not that with a certain waistcoat man around there's any dearth of it). in good design, nothing is wasted, if possible it serves more than one purpose. here we have a day where the romance grew, as did the anti-romance. shyam had to see all this for him to get desperate and strike.

otherwise, it was all about the silly little things that lovers pine for, get angry over, fight over, make up over and then fight over again... nani ji and anjali did tell us last episode about this chooha billi, mouse and cat pair.

this is their way, got to fight, got to make up, got to get all mushy, then fight like hell again. to fight is to engage, to feel each other's anger, to be touched by it, be sparked by it, it's really a way to be intimate, feel each other's hold, that thing called faraq.

and now a man paces... a purpose in his gait. he is waiting for someone... most impatiently, and also eagerly. lovely music in the background.

a fire sizzles in him. and a havan gets going, flames leaping.

this man is not a havan attending sort, so his sister does wonder why he hangs about here. the fun elder sisters can have watching their dude, don't care bros falling flat for jhalli babes.

would you like to go to your room? no need to be here, says helpful sis.

no, if you need anything, i'll be here, "agar kuch chahiye toh i'm here," answers determined bro.

sis smiles.

and jhalli is here.

so you didn't answer her question when she asked whether you'd given the bangles... so now see what she does. she sees him and knows he wants to see those bangles, and so the game begins.

no bangles for you, laad gov. her arms are under the ubiquitous dupatta. especially after seeing he is looking for them... again that hide and seek, that ankh micholi.

his eyes on her, she looks away, lovely interlude, he cranes his neck a bit to see, she looks up... he turns away... so very boy girl... in any language, any age, anywhere on earth... she's all nakhra, he arrogance...

suddenly a little peek at her hand with the mehendi, "a" for aphrodisiac in it, looks like it's all working well.

he pretends he is not looking... oh that characteristic swing of the head. denial denial denial. the slightest glimmer of a knowing smile on khushi's face. this game she is going to win. she knows he is a goner. true, khushi muses later why he was so upset, who'd have thought he'd give her bangles, but the game she plays you really only play with the boy who likes you and whom you like. somewhere she knows what it's all about.

woman's instinct. she was always a woman to him, for him. child woman maybe, but woman nonetheless.

om keshavaya nama swaha, om govindaya namah swaha... we are praying to krishna, and the kanha games are on... radha krishna and their many little games. him torturing her by pretending not to care, her paying him back... a whole picture in my head from childhood tales. and now these two are at it.

snake is in a bad mood... two men before fire burn with passion. one valid and beautiful no matter how arrogant and highhanded the man. the other patently wrong, disgusting in fact even if he is a soft spoken man with much knowledge of the shastras and the ways of an esteemed hindu family.

the arrogant one keeps peering at the lovely girl who won't play ball. he never tires of looking at her... such delightful desperation in a young lover's heart. when will she look at me, when will i see the bangles i gave on her arm? till now he's given expensive bags with an indulgent air to girl friends. now for a girl who is not even a girl friend he's gone out at night and picked up of all things shiny bangles because she likes them and he wants to adorn her. what an intimate sort of feeling.

bangles have so much significance, both culturally and for him personally. husbands give bangles to wives, wives in many parts of india, never keep their arms bare, their bangles a sign of marriage. and for him, the sound of his mother's kangan, it brings peace. maybe he wants to hear khushi's bangles clink, subconsciously he's seeking that peace perhaps. it's been years since he felt it. he locks himself away because everything hurts, but with this crazy radiant girl, somehow he wants to open up, wants to feel, take a risk even...

however light and rom com in style, to watch arnav singh raizada in this mood is somehow terribly touching. the meanie has an extraordinary sweetness within him, a giant heart that is so ready to love.

to tell us all is not well, no matter how light the air, the director shows us shyam is watching asr watching khushi. feels like a violation really.

if rabba vey trills in asr's world, snake music raises its head in shyam's. a feeling of the garden of eden here... adam just can't leave eve alone, nor she him... and the serpent watches, thinking of a way to spoil the beauty.

again she looks at him, he looks away, she folds her hand deeper in the dupatta... she is going to win this one she's sure...

and it's prashad time, the astute game player has an idea... 

he takes the plate from di's hands, goes to khushi wrapped in dupatta and offers a laddoo and a look.

a look that says, i will win... give up, kkg.

this is asr. everything has an element of win lose. in his being, his whole system... he can't let go of that. the mazaa, the zing of life is in it... and he ain't gonna be a pushover, so no he won't answer her, but he will see her arms gleaming with his bangles, his first gift to her. it felt as though he wanted to be part of her life, her beauty. he feels an inordinate amount of happiness at the joy of this crazy pompom chic he can't live without... such a huge faraq padta hai in all that we see.

and thanks to bua ji, hai re nand kissore, prasad must be taken without daag on dupatta... uh huh kkg, you got to give it to the devil, he's got you.

but not to worry... she's not sanka devi for nothing.

oh the look on his face when he sees them bangles... understated smile, overwhelmed by happiness... made his day. looks at her face, that same tender smile just a bit of that shatir thing...

a gentle breeze, rabba vey is rising around them, a few strands of her hair fly... little touches by an adept director to show the state of two hearts, surrounded by the whole world they are in a private place where there's you me and chooriyan, rabba vey fades all else out.

she has to acknowledge, connect, smile back a bit. there's triumph in his look but also too much love to not feel it...even if he won't say it.

and eyes won't stop talking... the world goes about its business.

nani and di are the other two watching the romance, and they are at a 180 degrees from shyam, utterly thrilled.

she wants to know if he gave her the bangles. of course, she knows he did... but here's the thing, she wants to hear him say it. acknowledge. kya faraq padta hai aapko. chhoriyan aapne di? they are the same question in a way... asking him to admit. something. what?

"bataiye na aap hi ne kharidi thi?" tell me, did you buy them, she persists, appearing by him suddenly.

he turns around... not giving in... "kya kharidi thi?" bought what?

awkward search by her... then, "chooriyan?"

"maine? ah i don't know what you're saying." yeah, right.

madam is upset. enough. "iss baar hum aapko bina jawab diye, jaane nahin denge." this time i won't let you go without replying.

the group photographs are being taken by nk and she goes on the offensive... irritate him with chooriyan.

"chooriyan hain" these are bangles.

"haan toh!" and so! he isn't budging. her antics amuse him i think.

"bataiye na...!" tell me...

he leaves.

on to a little fun with nk. who gave you these bangles, khushi ji?

"arnav ji" she yells and completes, "also doesn't know... must have fallen from the sky."

in a hilarious scene where writers decided to have a good time, nk tells asr to look at his snaps... he's looking so handsome... nk sounds genuinely pleased that he could manage to make asr look nice. i am rolling on the floor. "yeh dekho, tum, nice you're looking nice!!"

di has been watching bro the whole time... she decides to have a spot of fun too, and why not. khushi ji, arre wah, you're wearing nice bangles.

"bekaar vayat aur ghatiye..." don't sit nicely, bad colour. kkg has a list of complaints against these useless and rubbish bangles.

the man looks up. his sis suppresses a smile. oh the games people play.

the only reason she wears them is because she doesn't want to leave her arms bare.

he is seething.

di sees her bro, and sends kkg to pick up something from the poolside, something that is of course not there. then she sits and counts... tik tik one... tik tik two...

of course, he strides out after that pest of a bangle wearer.

"agar chooriyan itni hi napasand hai toh uthakar phenk kyun nahin deti?" straight to the point at the poolside, if you dislike the bangles so much why don't you throw them away.

he's here, she is perturbed... trapped...

"ghar tak pahunchne ka intezaar kyun kar rahi ho..." why are you waiting to get home?

oh he's hurt and angry by her words. a little skirmish, nice strategy really.

"kissi aur ke chooriyon se itna pyaar? aap arnav sigh raizada hi hai ya unke sar pe chada hua eksau do bukhar." the brilliant dialogue writer was in today... so much in love with someone else's bangle, is that asr or the 102 temperature on his head?

"aur waise bhi, yeh chooriyan theek se nahin baith rahi hai," and anyway they don't sit properly...

"perfect fit hai..." emphatic, angry. i am surprised the forum didn't go into paroxysms of laughter over the perfect fit thing. in the tradition of "thoda dard hoga," and "ho gaya," now "perfect fit hai." when you have all those restrictions on showing explicit sex, and clever, slightly exhibitionistic writers, you get this not too bad college boy humour i guess.

"aap ko kaise pata aapne kabhi chooriyan pehni hain kya?" how do you know, have you ever worn bangles...

then taken aback at her own temerity and the thunder on his face, she steps back... but insists, you have to tell me.

"excuse me?" immediate comeback from her angry young man, "batana hoga?! yeh khushi kumari gupta bol rahi hai ya har waqt usske sar pe chada hua pagalpan."

have to tell you? is this kkg talking or the ever present madness on her head?


i have won the bet, she insists.

a beautiful look, like handling a tantrumatic child, sweetest voice, "kaunsi shart," which bet?

the kkg "o" appears, what! you've forgotten so quickly, but you can't not do what you said you would, so i will make you do this..

he nods sexily, says just one word, husky and out to get everyone... "kya!"

sanaya's super mobile face, couldn't catch the dandanake... eye flash, goes into overdrive.

you have to answer my question.

"poochho." ask. again one word. loving teasing telling her she's gorgeous... yes all of that. the two contenders stand facing each other arms folded.

music changes... little flutters of anticipation and fear and butterflies? zero hour is here...

"kya aapne humare liye chooriyan kharidi thi?" did you buy me the bangles?

smart little shake of head... "haan..." sand voice, noncommittal...

hey hey...

it takes her breath away.

just one word... haan... yes. so much in that "yes."

"tumhare liye chooriya maine hi kharidi thi..." he continues, i bought those bangles for you.

sanka is speechless.

finally when she can talk, a little huge question, "kyun?" why?

tremulous, worried excited mixed up, on the edge of the precipice, knowing a deep abyss looms ahead, she will never ever get out of it.

he turns and walks away. oh what a move.

arre i'm asking you something.

beautiful raizada music...

"shart ke hisaab se tum mujhse ek cheez karwa sakti ho... aur tumhare ek sawal ka jawab mai de chuka hoon... deal done... shart khatam"

according to the bet you can make me do one thing, and i have given the answer to your one question... deal done.

then, her remarks still rankling, he continues, revealing exactly how much this means to him, "aur agar chooriya itni napasand hai toh inhe utar ke..."

and if you dislike the bangles so much then take them off and...

she cuts in urgently, "aur agar achhi lag rahi ho toh..." what if i like them?

"toh pahle kyun kaha ki.." then why did you say that...

because i wanted you to admit you'd bought them

"maan chuka hoon," i have admitted...

good thing that you did.

"theek hai toh pahenkar rakho..." ok then keep wearing them...

"shayad aap theek se dekh nahin rahe hain... par maine yeh chooriya pahni hui hai," maybe you can't see properly, but i am wearing the bangles. she snaps and holds up her arm... how she loved those glass bangles, he has bought them for her, oh they made her feel so good.

and his eyes fall on those bangles on her arm again and his heart melts, at least his eyes say so.

and the handling... a little hot, a little girly, one minute up next down, playing deal making fighting... if this is not love making i'll never know what is.

in the hallway, mami ji unleashes unnecessary venom... however nk manages to get a priceless thing out of it... "makeupiya without tuchupiya."

mamiji's "repeat telecast" makes me wonder, repeat of what?

here a question is repeated. "kyun?" she asks again in that lover like way... why did you buy me the bangles? or was she asking why do you love me so much?

"aapne humare liye, chooriyan kyun kharidi?"

rabba vey rose, his heart stopping turn, would he say why?

how his eyes softened as they landed on her, they always call out, especially when she isn't looking. an adult experienced man who's known women and desire, now thrown into the whirlpool of a deeper emotion... that makes him lose control. something so tender in that.

she is but a child in these matters, her very first stirrings of a serious feelings for a man... a time to play...

he walks up to her, he is about to say something... then a considering look and he looks away...

you can sense him taking a decision...why... is this his last fight with a feeling?

"tumhare her sawal ka jawab dena zaroori nahin hai..." it's not necessary to answer all your questions. soon he will say that again to her, but in circumstances drastic and dark. not lovely and light like tonight.

he walks off, she turns indignant, her arm goes up to push back her hair, and the sound of bangles...

she looks happy, shy, so happy.

he comes out and bangs into somebody... "i am sorry, jija ji."

what an epsiode...
the most gossamer fine, dupatta like romance with a sparkle of gota in it... endless intimacies... light and frothy... then the lick of danger... fire.

"tumhare har sawal ka jawab dena zaroori nahin hai," soon he will refuse to answer questions more important than why did you buy these bangles.
as you can probably tell, i went a bit ballistic doing bangle edits.

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