Sunday, 20 September 2015

episode 109 part 2 red saree night

there was that rush of wind again, gathering, coming close, swirling. the man walked down the steps busy on his phone, stylish in his silver grey suit. he stopped dead in his tracks. there she sat surrounded by circles and circles, concentric and flowing, of tiny sparkling, oil lit lamps, their flames flickering in that gust of knowing breeze. their glow reflecting off her face, her little red bindi, her jhumka, her intricate gold necklace, her gold border and motifs, the gorgeous red, and her black hair fell straight to her waist, open, free, silken strands. piano notes trilled in, a natural entry for them as they well know. hey hey... he stands their looking at her, unable to look away, possibly unable to breathe. saansey ruk jaygi... your breath will pause... when she comes, when you see her.

she is in red. fluttering, graceful, diaphanous chiffon in vermilion splendour, gold glittering on it today. but that day, there had been only red and more of that, and two dark accusing hurt eyes, ridiculously large danglers swaying on either side of an innocent face with a sensuousness it had no idea it possessed, making it even more erotic, he had come down the stairs with his phone then too, only to be struck, to be stunned, to not be able to look away. he'd stood there helpless, viscerally drawn to that woman in red. the first time the piano notes were heard. music had entered his being that day perhaps after a long long break.

so much had happened since then. as he stood looking at her today, there was a hint of pleasure at the corner of his lips, a willingness to be drawn, he walked toward her wanting her closer to him... a need to just linger and stare, and yes that helplessness. like it or not, he had to be here, looking at her face, inviting enchantment. jadoo. black magic... no just pure unadulterated chaotic mind altering magic.

seems she was not supposed to wear that saree. that was in his favourite colour, meant for his girl friend. when khushi heard this, she was awkward, uncomfortable, full of apologies. for unknown to all she had fallen for the sari, maybe his message was wrapped in its folds, i love red and i want to see you in it, please wear it for me. no, he hadn't written that, but could it just be chance that had the sarees switched? or was it a strong desire that made the mistake happen. not all things in heaven and earth are known to us, so no harm imagining, what it might have been, even though we know script writer wrote it so. there was that hint of magic in that switch too.

how many ages passed as he stood there we'll never know, but suddenly the wind decided to get her attention. as she blew out a match, she felt it and his presence, his eyes on her... she has made sugar free sweets for him, has she dressed up for him too? without knowing that that's what she did? she sees him across the rows of diya. she stands up slowly, so conscious of that stirring male gaze, chocolate brown, velvet like, fire within... a slight hint of smile softens his features, he looks at her rapt, mesmerised... not even a hint of resistance or embarrassment.

this is elemental attraction, born somewhere far away, growing every day from the moment they met, now wanting to express it self, undeniable, palpable desire. and it's enriched by subtle touches of other emotions: tenderness, care, concern, indulgence, irritation, ire, anger, a whole confusing bundle of things she makes him feel. it drowns him, it intoxicates him when she looks like this.

she is perturbed but a skein of excitement in her too. and those things he makes her feel... that don't allow her to take sensible decisions. 

an eternal moment between the two. it's diwali, and something is certainly lit.

"arre..." she's startled. it's la, "yeh kya kar diya tumne... tumne toh apne aap ko diyo mein gher liya..." what have you done, you've surrounded yourself with lamps.

row upon row of diyas around her. tricky to get out. his eyes on her feet as she lifts her saree and starts to make her way out of the lovely trap she has made for herself.

"asr, chamkili ki help toh karo, please..." it's la again, and she is telling asr to go help her friend. her friend who has taught her so much, and la doesn't mind she's wearing that saree meant for her. in asr's favourite colour. la has no idea yet what this red does to him. no, not the red, that woman in red.

he steps towards the circles to help her. but wasn't he already with her right there in the centre the moment he saw her, innocently lighting her diyas, smiling to herself, like a flame that gives light to the darkest night?

he's walking in. is this chakra vyuh, asks my mind. the strategic battle formation, you must know the way in and the way out...

but he doesn't care, because she is waiting for him, can't you see? and no matter how many times i see these episodes, the magic refuses to release me. and the intoxication.

No comments:

Post a comment