Thursday, 24 September 2015

episode 211 unremembering things

"by the time you swear you're his,
shivering and sighing.
and he vows his passion is,
infinite, undying.
lady make note of this --
one of you is lying."

~~~ dorothy parker ~~~


but what if both of you are vowing the opposite and saying you don't remember a thing? that you have no idea there was passion, infinite, undying? what then... are both of you then lying or is that a way of telling the truth?

a confession: i have done this before. had lots to drink, flirted with a friend's boyfriend outrageously, and the next morning when my friend came by and sobriety was creating havoc in my brain and heart, i said without any planning or thinking, exactly what asr said... nah, don't remember a thing.

it was a lie. something of that evening's hurt tucked away in some uncharted corner of my mind.

the hurt. when he and she both lied, all i could feel was their hurt. no matter what the reason was for refusing to admit the truth... they felt terrible... and sanaya and barun managed to convey that through the most moving looks ever. quiet, poised, intense.

he was getting clothes to change into from his wardrobe, he turned around and she walked in. he stopped in his tracks, an alert, slightly taken aback look, as though he was struggling with something.

she looked at him equally perturbed.

both very awkward about that letting down of guard and coming out of their shells thanks to bhang.

his eyes darted here and there, ah time to pretend again.
she also looked away.

he couldn't help but look at that deck chair outside where dhadkane became one... jo tum mehsoos karti ho, jo main mehsoos karta hoon.

it was a lovely shot, and again much said without a word, the way most significant things often are.

she saw the chair, "aap ko... kuch... yaad hai?" do you remember anything, she asked half hoping, half fearing his answer. perhaps she did want him to say, yes. she did want him so, she knew what happened to her heart beat when he came near.

"jab tum mere paas hoti ho..." when you're near me... echoed through him, through me... he recalled every single word, of course.

she stood looking at him, slightly expectant.

his eyes grew dark and hooded, "nahin!" no! came his short sharp reply and of course he turned away, the classic asr look away whenever he veered from the truth. he slammed the wardrobe door shut.

"mujhe kuch yaad nahin hai!" he completed the lie.
she looked on, a sadness about her.

he looked at her and "tumhe?" he had to ask... and you?
she too chose to lie..."nahin... bilkul nahin..." no, absolutely nothing. maybe given his reply, she had no choice.

poignant. the feelings flowing about the room, there were tears in them, of a young boy, a little girl, there was a bereftness here... of a man and a woman. they who so needed to love, wanted to be loved, they who did so love each other, yet there was no space in this reality to say it out, to feel it, to give it to each other, and embrace fiercely that truth uttered on a deck chair.

in just a couple of seconds so many feelings swirled by.
and then a moment was gone.

they both walked off with a distracted air only to meet again at the door to the bathroom, hands clasped on a knob... the bathroom had to be claimed.

an interesting exploration of space and what you claim as your own. when love comes and starts occupying parts of you, spaces in you, does it set off a struggle within... does one feel a part of oneself getting lost and holds on fiercely... or at least tries to? is that why we fight so much with the ones we love? often for the strangest and most paltry of things? is this why there is that whole idea of "submission" to love? an acknowledgement that it does indeed take something away from us, maybe even ourselves? giving in is always such a struggle.

they pause for a moment and the now they are rivals.
"pehle main jaaonga," i'll go first. he is brusque.

music and mood change.

how fast they ran from a moment that was true. there was no hiding there.

"kyun? darwaaze pe pehle hum aaye the..." why? i reached the door first... and off we go again, to and fro, the war of the raizadas.

"mera ghar hai, i'll go firrrst." oh the rolled "r" and how terribly adult, it's my house, i'll go first. so often they'd behave like kids around each other... he almost 27, she 19 (or 22 smile emoticon ), both really not that ancient. and when the game of love got going, the irritation levels directly proportional to the thwarted sexual desire, suddenly the itch to win made them lose control and often regress to childhood. 

two minutes ago that traumatic suppression of a feeling, and almost like a nasty side effect, this silly fight. nice writing i thought.

"iss ghar mein humara bhi adhikar hai, hum aapke patni hain." i have a right too in this house, i am your wife.
in the confusion of a fight, the simple truth burst out. whatever the marriage might have been, she wears his sindoor and mangalsutra, and she is ready to claim her huq... days later, she'd say... i did not ask for this tie, it was foisted on me, but now that i am responsible for it, i shall take care of it...

khushi loved this man, even if she had not said it to herself yet. somewhere perhaps, despite his insane behaviour, she could sense the facts lying beneath. the undeniable fact of love that tied them together. she couldn't turn away from the tie he'd forced... she couldn't say it was a sham...

she will take it to a place that makes sense... that's her instinct. while destruction and destructiveness stalk him, and he can't leave it behind.

both have a headache. a bout of major arguing comes by. khushi is shaking her head, getting all quarrelsome. he is intense, speaking through gritted teeth. clearly kkgsr and asr are here. the holi days are over.

it was hard for me to let them go like that. why exactly was that heady week planted there if it would be quickly run away from?

while thinking about such things, and reading one of faiqa's takes, it dawned on me that really the marriage was force fitted here and it had no place in the tale at this point. none.

the writers were floundering, wondering how to make this work. channel was relentless no doubt on the trp trail. the show that had beat balika vadhu in september, was not looking that good vis a vis numbers in february march. and so the merry go round started... how to leap onto the trp game... what do audiences want... do they want chemistry? give it to them. oh that's not enough? how about a new track... bali? babli? ballistic.

some part in a writer felt defiant, wanted to write, add preciousness... and so they did. bang in the middle of free flowing going anywhere nowhere plot... abysmal forgetfulness and enraging lack of commitment, especially to common sense. 

he claims the loo.

she wants to throw a fit. a hissy one maybe.

soon, thanks to mami ji, we are seeing drama on the hall steps.

two things i loved about this senseless scene. khushi was wearing a kkg ishtyle churidar, and looking almost like her usual self... hair open being the one big difference. have never liked this idea of women changing the way they look just because they are married. some day our serials will not need this sort of regressive semaphoring i hope.

and the second is the speed at which she runs thinking asr might take the wrong medicine. she doesn't even stop to think why she gives a damn. just like maybe he didn't when he came down those steps and defended her honour during mooh dikhai.

one by one fam members come and join the fray. looked nice, natural.

she flies into the room... you didn't take that medicine did you? she is in panic.

but she misunderstands him again. she decides, he'd switched medicines on purpose...

he is outraged. what?

"ghin aati ahi hume aapse, mr raizada..." she is disgusted, mr raizada. again lover like, there's no calibration of anger. completely emotional she goes.

"nafrat karte hum aap se..." i hate you. second time.

as chaos goes to a new high in the hall, an authoritative voice.
"wait payal..." he says just two words, and it seems to change everything.

at the head of a flight of steps he stands, his music flows around him. 

"usski koi galati nahin hai, mami," mami, it's not her fault. in a room full of hysteria and angst, the voice of reason... decision... a voice you can trust.

it's a simple mistake.

and as mami ji goes to resume her drama, a quiet word from a young man who has a tender feeling for this offbeat, some might say unbearable, woman. he knows her every fault, but also her strengths, her good, her love. he will handle his mami his way. i have always loved this detail in asr's character, his relationship with his loud, lazy, not at all classy aunt.

"mami, chillane se aapke dard aur badega," mami, shouting will make your pain worse.

akash and payal are deployed to get things for mami. he explains to her, mami, this could have been a mistake by anyone, if we'd made it, would you have thrown us out?

"aisan kaisan kahat ho!" how can you say such a thing, mami is aghast.

he urges her to go lie down. she struggles with it, manorama doesn't like to lose turf.

"theek hai... tumre liye..." okay, for you, she mumbles, knowing her nephew would not give up.

"mere liye... please!" crisply he agrees, superb handling of this difficult lady... third time.

he looks at his wife who has accused him... ghar mein sabko relax karne ki... zaroorat hai. everyone needs to relax.

khushi is naturally very upset... whole fam is in turmoil thanks to this storm out of nowhere. hyper emotions all around.

asr keeps it down, but he is no doubt roiled.

she comes back into the room only to accuse him more... she can't believe he had no hand in this.

"bazi hamesha asr ki mutthi mein rahti hai," the bet is always in asr's fist, she mocks. she rages. like that day she had come to resign. and just like that day, he is shocked at the allegations being made.

he'd thought she'd be happy to realise he had no hand in the misunderstanding.

he tries to talk.

first you did this to me, she yells, now to show your strength you're doing this with my sister's life.

oh, she was so hurt by that night he gave her no choice.

"khushi, bina soche samjhe..." he tries to tell her not to go on without understanding what has really transpired, his anger is beginning to appear. how long can asr be expected to keep his cool, especially in this situation.

"hum soch kar hi bole rahe hain..." she claims she knows what she's saying... return anger.

i love their normal interaction.. rarely seen on tv. two young sexy people in love, in the grip of a lie, and mad for each other, mad at each other... as normal as can be.

smoulder returns to chocolate eyes.

"pehle aap baat ko bigadte hain taki aap jo chahe wo kar sake... aur phir sabke samne uss baat ko samhalte hain..." first you ruin everything, then in front of everyone, you set it right. she flings at him.

maybe, that's what he has done with her...

"taki sabko lage ki aap kitne acche hain," so that everyone thinks you are so good.

nostrils flare on a rigid face.

lips thin on the other.

khushi... he tries again.

but she believes this... and will not stop...

hume yeh sabki aadat hai... jiji ko nahin hai.

why does she have this aadat? and why is it ok? is it because she is an orphan and has subconsciously come to accept that pain is her lot? or because from their first meeting he has inflicted only that and now she is used to it? if so, why did she allow herself to get used to it?

she again promises not to tell a thing, to stay with him, just spare jiji.

he seethes, troubled, nothing to be done... a sadness, this is a mess.

he leaves.

and she decides to take him on so he will ask her to leave.

storytellers are changing gear, we are headed where who knows. sometimes we don't reach nainital, sometimes the end of any track.

  
next morning.. she is up with pencil and notebook, he sleeps comfortably, she plans to ruin his happiness...

he sleeps like a baby.

she marches up to him, vile plans buzzing in her head, then sees his sleeping face... and a delicate moment. a little smile and a few seconds to just gaze at the one who makes her heart race. felt like a SMOOCH. teehee, i quite understand why there's been talk of one in ipk recently, whenever the two looked at each other, maybe we completed the act in our heads and gut.

"kaun keh sakta hai, iss masoom chehre ke peeche ek khonhar laad gov hoga." who can tell, behind this innocent face hides a terrible laad governor.

lovely lovely intimacy.

"shut up, khushi!" how can a man make that sound so sexy.
achhoo! she has an idea.

"arnav sigh raizada ko satane ke sau tarike, pehla unka neend kharab karna."

one hundred ways to bother asr, first, destroy his sleep. kkgsr hath murdered sleep, and therefore asr shall sleep no more... lines from macbeth in my head.


*****

mami ji's beauties today

"jooice aan the racks, samjhi?" juice on the rocks, understand?
"bhang ka nassa toh bai bai... lejkin sar dard hello hi" bhang intoxication bye bye, but head ache hello hi.
"sirt ki button ki sije ki goli, coat ki button ki sije ki ho gayi?" a tablet the size of a shirt button has become the size of a coat button?




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