Saturday, 19 September 2015

episode 104 signs of love




"khushi ji darwaja khul gawa, bhagwan ne aap ke sun li."

an interesting opening line i thought. khushi prays fervently before the entrance to rm and her playmate op assures her that the door has opened,
god has heard her prayers. a simple reference to the door by the talkative young man. but at another level... signifies a new opening, a certain ease in accessing something. which door is being referred to i wonder. the one to a closed heart?

then there is vanvas talk from la. yes she is all silly and confounded as you'd expect her to be. where is vanvas? is it further than gurgaon and noida? can a grown educated woman in india really ask such questions. obviously some significance to the exile story and how now it's time for ram to return from it. well, asr is in self imposed vanvas upstairs and khushi has to go and get him.

khushi is today even more talkative than usual, constantly chatting with devi maiyya. obviously the happenings of  the past few days are doing funny things to her. first babu ji's terrible illness. then the constant pressuring by bua ji to agree to marrying shyam. her utter confusion regarding this. and all the time a terrific awareness of a not very pleasant young man. yet he is always on her mind. think anything and she thinks of him. sister speaks of dream man and there he is. it's all getting to be too much, just the evening before that dhak dhak giving fairy lights incident. he was so close and she was feeling all sorts of things. now she can't stop thinking about that laad governor. she's asked devi maiyya to explain this thing to her. why is she thinking of him, why is she refusing to listen to her family for the first time? she just doesn't want to see him today. but that's not to be.

however, when her attempt to call him down fails, she is delighted and scurries back quickly. he's not coming, la...

but the wind says something else...

and ram ji comes back from vanvas.

so the door to a heart has opened and now its owner is ready to return from his exile. interesting analogies and hints all over. the fairy lights have sparked something in both. she roams around perturbed but in denial. she has never imagined falling for a man like this. but he? that contemplative look at the lights the night before, the long intense gaze at her, a concern, and just now, again the memories... but he too is in denial.

yet can he ever deny her ever again. listen to the wind, the answer is coursing though it.

"di, main sirf yeh check karne ke liye aa raha hoon khushi yahan koi gadbad nahin kar rahi hai, " i've just come to check if khushi's doing some goof up here. di had started all khsuhi had to do was call you... he'd cut in with his curt little answer. he'd refused la just moments before. di laughed off his answer, but la noticed what had happened, it registered in her slightly troubled look trying to mask her worry with a smile.

"doh," he grabs the wires from khushi and starts work on the gallery lights. a cute little moment with khushi. he's looking for the tape which is safely held between his teeth and she is pointing this out. a strange sweetness, a glint of a smile at the corner of his lips. but he is not going to smile. no way. he is bothered by this happiness he seems to get just looking at her, especially looking at her when she is happy. he's been in exile too long. exile is safe. it doesn't hurt. but this? dangerous. his instincts are warning him perhaps.

yet, try as one might, certain things just have their way.  and so there is this constant awareness of each other as they do their work. she is helping di with rangoli, he stands on a stool and fixes the wires.

"dm, aajkal na aap humse bahut ukhdi ukkhdi si rahti hain... lagta hai pichhle hafte joh prashad humne chadaya aapko achha nahin laga," dm, you seem upset with me, looks like you didn't like the offerings i made last week. khushi talks to herself... audibly. the essential sanak of khushi is at work. she has asked dm for some clarity on the marriage issue (it was poignant the way everything inside her said "no" to a marriage with shyam and the restless yearning that stoked her heart, all she does is think of arnav ji, why), but dm hasn't answered.

"khushi ji... aap kya badbada rahe ho?" anjali asks, what are you muttering?

"shadi," marriage. at khushi's reply a man is alert.

"kisski shadi?" whose marriage?

he goes still.

"humari," mine.

he's chiseled stone for a fraction of a second, then he turns.




she is silent, he is waiting, she looks at him. eyes say things, wonder if the ears hear. just simmering awareness.


no, i mean your marriage, how did you think about marriage? she asks anjali.

when anjali mentions it was easy to fall in love with shyam...

pyaar? asks khushi, a note of lovely excitement in her voice, a wonder. yours was a love marriage? but how did you know?

crucial question, how does one know one is in love.

anjali gives a beautiful personal answer. and had the listeners' minds been working they'd have recognised themselves in anjali's words, but all they knew was this awareness. inexplicable. no one in a rush to explain also. early heady days of attraction slowly coming out of the closet. nainital was not reached, but a far more important destination seems to have been.

"pata hai khushi ji, jeevan mein na ek aisa insaan aata hai jise aap har pal dekhna chahte... rat ko sone se pahle bas wohi ek chehra hota hai jo aap dekhna chahte ho... subeh uthne pe na... bas aisa lagta hai ki unki nazar aap pe pade... agar unhe koi dukh aaye na toh lagta hai ki bas kuch bhi karke woh dukh.. woh dukh unke jeevan se hata doh..."

you know, khushi, in life there comes a person one day whom you want to see all the time... before sleeping at night that's the one face you want to see... in the morning when you wake up, you want those eyes to fall on you... and if that one is even slightly troubled then you feel you must take away the pain by whatever means...

why do i think of arnav ji all the time she's asked. before going to bed he'd stood by the pool thinking of her. and when she was in pain he was restless till he could ameliorate it somehow.

but neither was in a state to make these connections. too too bristling with the sense of each other.

"bas, pata chal jaat hai," anjali ends, you just know.

anjali leaves.

he can't, she can't, stop looking at each other... rabba vey... they both know but don't want to. she gets up ready to leave, walking past him with that dazed air, and he falls... taking her with him, he is down, holding her, keeping her safe.

colours of rangoli scatter and fly.

joy, blessing, fun they seem to say. two people hopelessly entangled sprawled over a half done rangoli. something erotic and sensuous on the main hallway floor. a man and a woman and the colour that wants to enter their heart. rabba vey...and their they lie.

khushi tries to get up, but of course falls right onto him, can't stop looking still... till finally, he tells the wriggling girl, "stop... ruko..."

they extricate themselves. as he pulls her up, she falls forward and strokes his neck accidentally, smearing yellow powder, i think of haldi, uff that nearness. she is about to put her hand in her eyes and he stops her, look you have colour on your palm he shows her. a normal enough exchange, just that there's a parallel conversation on all the time. desires calling out to each other. why do i think of arnav ji all the time?

hot and bothered she is... he is.





the heady days of attraction are on. in full technicolor.












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