Tuesday, 7 February 2017

episode 196 nafrat at last (vm)

"janna chahti ho ki kyun tumhe suffer karte hue dekhna chahta hoon?! kyunki main tumse nafrat karta hoon!"

want to know why i want to see you suffer, he roared, his voice opening out and hitting decibels that strike the eardrum, that dash against the heart.

"because i hate you!"

she looked at him horrified, another layer of incomprehension and pain invading, still no idea why this has happened. what made him do what he did. and now... now this hate. her tears gleamed.

he watched her, a letting go it seemed after the words had been said. maybe the meaning of what he'd uttered just hit him... he seemed unable to hold her gaze. he looked away.

"hum bhi aapse nafrat karte hain...  jitni aap karte hain, usse se kahin zyada..."

i too hate you, she countered at last, face contorting, a force in her voice, fire and hurt combating for turf in her eyes. yes, she hated him.

"kyunki koi aapse pyaar kare aap uske layak hi nahin hai, mr arnav singh raizada. nafrat karte hain hum aapse... nafrat... kyunki aap sirf nafrat ke layak hain!"

because you are not fit to be loved by anyone, mr arnav singh raizada. i hate you... hate... because you're only fit for that.

love. did she mention love? pyaar?

i hate you. i hate you too. an equal and absolute emotion they both had... no no, she hated him more.

they looked at each other having found their mark and slaying the opponent. there was nothing else to be said, but look at each other, just look.

the moment had to be gathered close and cherished, for within it lay a germ of a feeling that struggled to live, even as the darkness snuffed it out or tried to. and so the music trilled in, their music, their refrain... they hated each other after all, rabba vey.

an exquisite moment in a love story. 


over the last few days emotions have been roiled and churned and played with, hysteria has been rising, there's been confrontation but no answers given, no solace or calm achieved. and now efforts are on to bring coherence through ritual and custom, almost ignoring the latent heat of the situation, maybe all this has taken things to a boiling, no annihilating, point. suddenly the senses blow, the dam bursts... and it's time to hate. for you so need to want to have to and do love.

the day was weary making, unbearable for him and her. he couldn't watch her being taunted by his aunt. he couldn't believe her mother refused to speak to her. he couldn't stay immune to her pain. maybe he couldn't take his own battering of her. he paced in his room hurting. he had hurt her more than anyone else he knew that... you mean nothing to me. he'd said. and thrown her out of their bedroom. he ached. but then came the voices, the visuals, jammed in his head a terrace's treachery.
hum sirf aapko chahte hain, khushi ji!... aap ye shadi tod kyun nahin dete?! i only want you, khushi! why don't you end this marriage?!

suffocation. he needed to get out of his waistcoat... his room. quick, angry movements, asr signatures. he needed respite from that mess of thoughts. so he sat by the poolside... but he wasn't free of his feelings... neither the longing. nor the torment.

a turmoil of images and sounds within him. fabulously crafted storm by creatives, use of the two aspects of the medium: sound and visual, dramatically and viscerally, creating many dimensions, giving girth and structure to the madness in the mind.

khushi... in the rain the two of them... ab tum meri patni ho sirf chhay mahine ke liye, now you're my wife for only six months, it's his voice... he is putting sindoor on her as she weeps... khushi ji humari zindagi ban chuki hai! humara pagalpan, khushi has become my life, my passion, shyam is screeching... in the guest house, khushi and he... aur ab hum dono ke beech mein sirf ek rukawat hai! raanisahiba! now between us there's only one hurdle! anjali! shyam again... wrapped in fairylights the girl he loves and he takes the wires off her slowly... hum sirf aapko chahte hain, khushi ji! i only want you, khushi ji, says shyam... and then that sight of shyam enfolding khushi in his arms... and khushi's voice exhorting shyam to break the marriage with anjali.

the ultimate betrayal. the girl he loves, his sister's enemy.

she has had a terrible day. tired and bereft, she picks up her quilt and sheets, coming outside, ready to sleep on the poolside floor. by mistake she knocks against the table.

that's all it takes. he flies into a rage. 

what the... her jagah mera peechha kyun kar raho ho... stop following me everywhere, he yells through violently gritted teeth. she is taken aback, she has no idea that her thoughts have not left him alone even for a minute the entire day. he is worn down by it all... his own sense of guilt perhaps along with that terrific pain thinking khushi is not ever going to be his and then the notion that she is having an affair with shyam, compounding all this his desperate bid to save his sister and this bizarre marriage. the chot in his heart is throbbing, drawing blood.

"chali jao yahan se.. just get out of here!" his voice is losing control, he is yelling.

she's angry too. it's all gone on for too long, and all the hurt from everywhere the whole day. khushi is no moper, she is a born fighter. his anger sparks hers instantly.

she flings the bed clothes onto the floor. beautiful.

if you can't stand me, why did you marry me, why did you bring me here... she hurls her questions at him. she complains to him about her mother disconnecting the call. something terribly touching there, as if he is the only one she can bring her broken heartedness to, she wants to... because after all it's all his fault.

anjali ji, nani ji sab humse naraaz hain... sirf aapk vajah se. anjali ji, nani ji, everyone is angry with me, just because of you, she shouts back.

and so, whatever i feel like doing, i'll do... bravo. this is beginning to sound like a rollicking fight, between lovers, between husband and wife, between life partners.

i'll shout if i want to... and you can't stop me.

she pushes him, she prods... he must be happy to see her so unhappy, happy that she has lost all her ties, she's again orphaned.

she shoves him and reflexively he grabs her arms. both are hurtling in a space within, driven by insane pain.
and he yells, yes, happy, he is happy to see her in the state, because he has done all this to watch her suffer... because he hates her.

the opposite of love isn't hate. it's indifference.

and when the environment is not one where love can be expressed, what will keep it alive, burning, inflamed, central. why, hate, of course.
"nafrat paas aane na de, mohabbat door jaane na de" at last we come to the premise with which ipk started... just that things have gotten more complex, nafrat it is now that keeps them close, holding the fort for mohabbat.

she walked away, her anger still raw. he lost it and took it out on objects all around. such a human real sequence. another kind of love making on the poolside. broke my heart though. and no one was really acting, were they. i am still thinking of how her hair blew a bit as rabba vey came in. it should have looked corny, it didn't. touched the heart, emphasised the beauty of the moment. 

the other wonderful thing was khushi's angry chat with dm. this is her friend, her confidante, her mentor, how could she stand and watch as a rakshas came and dragged her off to a temple. aapne aisa hone kaise diya! khushi demands of her deity. in the best tradition of personal god, the idea of ishta devata, devi maiyya is khushi's own connection to divinity... her loving trusting clean heart connects to dm... in another scenario, dm would probably be her imaginary friend, a hobbes.

i am weary (and wary) of religion being dragged into stories just to generate trp, also of all tv heroines habitually having to have a personal deity... heroes rarely do, ours of course is an atheist. why must girls constantly be seen relating with god? otherwise what? we are not good, not wife material, not achhi ladki? usually all the mutterings of kanha ji and ganpati ji and shiv ji, set my teeth on edge, but sanaya's khushi did a marvelous thing with dm. she made their interaction natural, khushi like, no good girl doses here, thankfully. and with that khushi let us know exactly how terribly important this relationship was for her...for her very survival in fact, her sense of well being.

but now she's mad at dm. the young orphan girl, who will she be angry with? that rakshas she's married to, of course, but also devi maiyya... so she will not be talking to her or giving her prashad, she will find a new friend in fact. so there.

always enjoyed the fact that khushi was no doormat.  and when she spoke of how she took a cue from dm's smile, deciding that was the way to be... to face all life's troubles with a smile, i thought... attagirl. rarely does television portray a girl like this, upbeat confident loving and spirited.

a poignant sequence without being maudlin at all... and there a gorgeous hate that makes you cry and smile.

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