Saturday, 5 September 2015

episode 197 the bride wore white




what an incredibly sexy episode.

that's what i think every time i watch the woman in a white shirt, her husband's white shirt, fine and slightly transparent, just casually pulled on over her lehenga and the man in brown suit, the man whose shirt it is, in their grey white black brown bedroom, hating each other but so close to each other, almost touching, and those feelings in their eyes. most sensuous of all, his extreme irritation with her, no not that, it's right and proper sleek silvery anger, which he's trying to hide because curious eyes watch through binocs. so he smiles, sort of nastily yet sweetly and yes, devastatingly.

she is looking slightly knocked off her equilibrium. why does the man who was screaming i hate you just the evening before, smile like that, touch her so intimately adjusting her collar, holding her hands tenderly, slipping on his mother's kangans? but most of all that smile and the nearness. she is going a bit crazy, maybe with worry, maybe with dhakdhak.

since episode 185 when he sees her on the terrace, it's been a series of grim tense episodes. if there's been beauty it's come from pain rather than joy and lightness. the air has been heavy and tense. and the evening before perhaps a climax in that ringing blasting "i hate you" and "hum bhi aapse nafrat karte hain". it's time to ease the pressure a bit, i think that's what the creatives decided. i am glad. because last episode i could sense a touch of hysteria reaching me as i watched. too much pain, its intensity draining.

so i think this episode it was a conscious decision to signal season change. yes, they continue to be mad at each other, and the rituals also carry on, but the whole treatment is lighter. realistic i thought, even in life when there's been a lot of chaos and emotionally ripping stuff, it's almost human nature to look for and find a break. especially if you're upbeat and optimistic in general, or maybe even otherwise.

asr is looking dapper and utterly handsome in his neat brown suit. and khushi is not moping at all but grumbling about tight clothes, getting ready for mooh dikhai (i need to yell about this. what sort of weird custom is mooh dikhai, why should people come and lift your veil and see you face and say nice things and give you a gift, sort of okaying the new bride... so so tribal, but alas, ancient culture, all this stuff just goes on and on, no one says this is a pretty pointless exercise, offensive too...).



perhaps the biggest sign that we are going for a lighter day at ipk is mami in teeptaap form. mama ji in attendance, amused as hell by his wife's inquisitive soul... she must find out why someone was sleeping on the poolside having seen the bedclothes there. so while guests mill around and the rasam is about to start, mami goes hunting. of course, the whole thing is a bit forced, but the actors are strong and funky enough to pull it off.

mami in orange and bizarreness is a special delight when your heart is sore and hurting with all the nafrat pyaar of these days.

 
"daal ma jaroor kuchh na kuchh black hai!" something is not quite right claims mano. she has seen things, she will do inbesstigassun.

"dekho manorama, apna ee pocket books wala jasoosi upanyaas likhna bandh karo!" see, stop this pocket book style spy novel writing, says her devoted husband. deadly dialogue.

but mano not giving up, how come the bed clothes were not on the bed, not on the couch, "seeedhey poolwa ke bagal mein jaake padi!", went straight and fell on the side of the pool, she said.

smoothly came in mama ji's droll, "itna lamba naahi bolat hai, poolwa ke bagal ma... poolsiiide." no need to say in that longwinded way... next to the pool, just say poolside.

unfazed, mami declares, "james baand ke baad humra hi toh number aawat hai." after james bond, it's my name.

"manorama baand, inbhesstgassun kareka padi!"
mami i want to kiss you. first, with that ridiculous spying with binocs bit, you bring on the nearnesses and interchange that drive me crazy.

and did you say james bond?



there was something so bondish about that woman in white shirt and suave man in brown suit sequence today. even the way it was shot, those corny cutouts, the angles, the movements and yes, the game they played, everything had a style of its own and a cool cool sexiness.

isn't there something terrifically intimate about taking a man's shirt from his cupboard and wearing it without even asking him. says something that. some part of you exercises a right over this man. i am sure she wouldn't even take anjali's saree without asking her. but when the blouse tears, and she decides she will not talk to dm but find her own solution, this is what she sees as the simplest solution. get a needle and thread from hp and sew... but what should she wear then? why, that khadoos laad governor's white shirt of course.



all through, that khushi lightness and her nutty music.

sanaya looked gorgeous i thought, especially after all the heavy clothes of the past few days... and of course, khushi unwittingly revealed her intimacy with him deep down.

the set up was a bit contrived. clearly creatives knew the concept of a woman looking hot in a man's shirt and wanted to devise a highly charged arnav khushi sequence making the most of the famous barun sanaya chemistry. now that they were married, tv and audiences would allow a bit more closeness. besides, everybody needed a respite and a happy round of palpitations. since a straight forward "love scene" was not possible, necessity became the mother of lovely invention.

he came irate to the room to give her the kangans. she knew he wouldn't be pleased at the sight of her in his shirt, she ran and hid behind the curtain, only sanaya can look so cute funny and alluring doing that. in "what the" frame of mind, he came to her, all set to explode. he looked up and there by the sidiya of the poolwa mami stood with her snooping glasses. he had overheard her earlier and knew he had to do something to convince his aunt all was well. so started the charade.







sigh. that adjusting of expression, that change to lopsided grin from puckered for "what the f" lips, eyes softening, body relaxing... and in contrast khushi getting more and more perplexed, even terrified. now what's with the laad gov.
and lover boy says, "aaj yehi pehenna hai kya?" planning to wear this today? husky voice with a smile. he is mad at her. killer brown smile, she is huh!



she quakes, shaking her head fearfully.

smirk.

"tumhe toh shirt pehenne bhi nahin aati," you don't even know how to wear a shirt. oh hell, i can't focus.

he leans in to do up the shirt. those lines, that closeness, how come mami ji isn't going up in flames, imagine seeing all this up close.

"ab theek hai," gentle sweet man.

his woman gawks.

and trademark "come!", then most lovingly, a kangan is held up. that shot of her through the looking glass, sitting and drawing away and him before her at her feet coming closer, has done me in.



"yeh tumhare liye hai..." this is for you, husky grainy voice.
sanaya said nothing throughout the segment, her voice was in a mess, so i guess writers had to find ways to cut down khushi talk. they found a great way and sanaya carried it off wonderfully. in fact, she hardly said anything the entire episode.

tender preparation to get the kangan on, and he sees the torn shirt cuff.

"tum kitni pagal ho..." he says almost pleasantly after eyes record a high blip of rage. he is angry as hell. i am thinking it isn't easy to do this counterpoint kind of thing, can get quite forced... but here it's just smooth and supremely, to repeat that word, sexy.

"tumne..." gritted teeth, "tumne meri shirt phaar di?" you've torn my shirt?

man has feelings for his white shirts. woman is horrified, the end is nigh. she takes the cuff with the lipstick stain and starts rubbing it furiously, remember the kitchen scene way back? wiping asr's shirt sleeve with a dirty duster?

"koi baat nahin," doesn't matter, says he.

huh?!!

he makes her wear the kangans. then softly, "ab tak naraaz ho mujhse... main promise karta hoon aaj raat tumhare saath poolside pe taare gintey hue bitaaonga!"

still angry with me? i promise tonight i'll sit on the poolside with you and count stars.

"okay?" soft.. oh soft... whispered almost.

khushi is mystified and scared. mami however is smarter than many give her credit for. and she and her arnow bitwa have a vibe anyway, she knows something is amiss, this is just not him.



i enjoyed that chicane by writers. a sense of intelligent writing all the time. who can blame us for missing this later. 


the next scene was equally hot. there was possession in it... thrilling possessiveness. maybe i am a bit of a cave woman in these matters, but a man staking his right over a woman he loves i do find gorgeous. the other way around too, but something primal in a man publicly owning, tethering to him with a simple "meri", mine, his mate.

my wife, meri patni. don't mess with her. though he was convinced this marriage was in name only and to save his sister's happiness, anyone insulting khushi or making fun, he would have none of it. he didn't even accept nani's admonition later. to defend khushi's honour and place in his home, he was willing to take on anyone and would be rude again if necessary. khushi looked at him shocked when he stopped the guests from talking about her... but did he ever ask himself, why she was so important, if indeed she was a promiscuous home breaker and he hated her? why he had to jump in and roar, he knew he'd upset many people, but he just had to say it.



"enough!"

only asr can say it like that by now i know. and i am already grinning. now for some classy rudeness, not the garden variety kind.

"aur kuchh bhi bolne se pehle itna yaad rakhiyega ki jisske baare mein aap iss tarah baat kar rahe hain woh meri patni hai..." and before you say another word, remember the person you are speaking about is my wife.
meri patni. mine. somewhere she is already a part of him, and anything that belittles her, strikes in his heart too.

"aur kissi bhi raizada bahu ke baare mein iss tarah baat ho, yeh hum bilkul bardasht nahin karenge!" and we shall not tolerate anyone speaking like this about any raizada bahu.

hum... the royal pronoun, we. he never uses it. but today a bit of a shehenshah tone. also a note of patriarchy in my contemporary modern minded young man. raizada bahu... the daughter in law of the raizadas...

he is not the sort to care too much about who is bahu who is beti, etc., but some ancient thing in him seems to have been stoked by the barbs from rude guests (note, raizadas have strangely nasty and crass guests hamesha), a response from the amygdala... he is king in his castle and how dare anyone mock his consort.

grand, majestic and totally, yes, sexy... this nafrat that is mohabbat.

"khushi meri patni hai... aur iss ghar ki bahu... humne shadi ki hai, aur yeh jayez rishta hai."

khushi is my wife, he tells his family, the daughter in law of this house, we have married and this relationship is valid. i believe him and i marvel at how brilliant the acting has been all through that that really unfair forced wedding, we could touch the most sacred and sustaining emotions within it, so that we not only were okay to carry on watching, we wanted their marriage to be a true one. for me that was their wedding and yes their relationship jayez. yes, they had to work out stuff and at some point he would realise his mistake and fall apart and seek forgiveness, but that emotion in them, that surpassed all... that made everything, okay i won't say the word.

 




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