Monday, 2 November 2015

episode 227 swami and the showgirl


"although 'making love' may serve as a polite name for an act that has many rude ones, it's misleading. for lovers do not so much make love as they are remade by love -- dipped into the fire, melted down, reshaped. if they are devoted to one another, love will transform them, dissolving the shells of their old separate selves and making them anew." 
~~~ scott russel sanders, a private history of awe ~~~

episode 227

"god knows kab aaygi!" god knows when she'll come, the episode started with asr waiting for khushi to come to their bedroom, wanting to see her despite having been pretty nasty to her a couple of days ago. a sense of someone becoming part of you, your day incomplete without them coming through, even as he lies awake on his uncomfortable chaise longue, his eyes darting to the hideous multi-coloured mobile which she has added, defiantly altering his room to accommodate her. he the lover of black, white, grey, at best some dull brown, sober blues, muted olive green... now in a blast of colour. they are on his walls, adorning his poolside, on his bed (poor fellow, the pink floral sheet next to his brown one, so telling of two really differently made people), and he can do nothing about it. 

but back to "god knows kab aaygi," and the outburst "but who cares" (r rolling, utterly endearing), i have to say i can't think of a single tv hero whose dialogues were as natural and perfectly in line with persona. he is westernised, sharp, a man of few words, clipped and non fussy, an urban soul. his words are from his life, his times... english comes in naturally, expresses him as he is, his language may not be pure and shuddha, but it is energetic and urban, mixing a smattering of english into hindi or using hindi words most naturally in an english sentence.

despite sad sighs from purists, i think the "mixed" language is here to stay and more and more a sign of our times... the english having gone everywhere and spreading their language, it sort of crossed over and began to belong to all of us and we speak it our way... and now that the colonial days are kind of over and there is an ease with one's own culture, not considering it in any way infra dig, it's almost cool to mix both tongues. i see it in my land all the time, and elsewhere too. in fact, i speak this combined language myself, my bangla has some english in it (makes many people cringe), and when i write i use words like pyaar nafrat mohabbat ramanchi quite easily right here, all the time.

asr's sentence construction is matter of fact and far from flowery, and totally contemporary; another matter that he says all this with the air of a nawab and you want to rush and become part of his darbar, an aura of ancient indian nobility, its best side that is, somehow clings to him though he is oh so westernised really. and no matter what his state of mind or the story... never, not once, does his dialogue sound thobby, out of place, unreal, or filmi. huge salaams to hitesh kewaliya and team... they were superb with dialogues. each and every character was well thought out in terms of the spoken word, especially the very down to earth and "normal" sounding hero who actually was the most larger than life character of the entire show.


"ab sundari ko shaitan ke mahal mein jana hai..." now beauty has to enter beast's castle... she's pretending she doesn't care too. yet she's most irritated he's gone to sleep. they haven't spoken to each other for a while, she's wilting without him... a funny fear of this angry man she loves and a sense of dejection that he didn't want to see her. 

at this point, there's only one thing to do, turn to the goat who comes calling and have a hearty chat, while the who cares man must open his eyes and see her the moment he hears her voice. 

and later... till he's seen her and she him, where is sleep. where is peace.



227 is officially the opening of what came to be known as the swami track. the first time i saw it, i laughed a lot, but also got angry, felt disconnected, did not see what it had to do with the two characters i had gotten to know. why this break into meaningless laughter.

while reading aarwen's take, it suddenly struck me... this was not just ha ha funny. this was two people in a terribly tricky situation, who desperately love and need each other, who though living in the same room for days, cannot do what they want to do with the other... love, make love, discover each other physically and emotionally... do all the things a newly married couple who adore each other might do.

along with an emotional restlessness and the anger they both feel, a sexual tension and hankering is growing. a need.

this perhaps is one way of engaging. its craziness makes it special. exclusive. and breathtakingly intimate. this is perhaps the instincts' way of devising the mating dance... a foreplay as it were. we have seen them before hurling water at each other, again in that intimate, i want to reach you touch you sort of way... that time he was doing crazy things to bring her back home.

since the tumultuous evening of valentine's day, every now and then their true feelings have come careening out and the dam has almost broken... holi, heer ranjha. but just as surely, after that has come anger and distance. because one thinks the other is a harlot, and the other thinks she's been dragged into hell by a monster.

there's no resolution, no let up. the tension keeps mounting.

khushi is mad at him and wants revenge. but note, she is not exactly doing really terrible things to him. now suppose it were shyam who was bothering her, would she do cute little things like hanging up salman poster, taking over his bed, washing clothes in his pool or would she be slapping him and running out of the place?

here instead, she is "ragging" him, roughing him up a bit, a way of "touching" him, and enjoying herself hugely while doing it too. by her proactive dive into revenge mode she is actually keeping the conversation alive, the emotions warm and in place. and he? if lavanya did these things to him would he tolerate it? would he play along? never... his instinct is picking the cues alright and he is playing back with her... now angry, now fretful, now pulling, now hauling, but never ever letting go.

this is too exciting to walk away from, that is why neither lets it go... not till the day on the bridge and the "truth" is out.

there was no way of keeping the conversation normal, so this was the way... one of the many ways in which lovers speak and flirt when normal channels are not available.

after the first scene, came two people looking at each other with yearning before either could sleep, then before setting out to "kill him with love," her convulsive need to touch his hair as he sleeps there looking vulnerable and lovely... all say the same thing. love. and these tender moments give the structure of the episode its depth... you know everything is really an intimate communication between two lovers.

love has strange ways of speaking. sometimes it says swami.

his eyes opened the moment she passed him, and of course, he stared at her with endless longing as she slept... no matter what the misunderstanding, the chhap gaya hai, the whatever... the "khushi!" he'd connected to his dil ki dhadkan... that truth asserts itself over all else.

and so with her.


first look in the morning at her bed naturally... but she's gone. "subah subah dabba service shuru ho gaya... pata nahin yeh natak kab tak chalega..." he knows this is a natak. not for a second is he fooled, but he does play along.

okay, breathing break. couldn't get a cap, so swift was the slight flapping of jacket and putting on of button. but i am at the foot of the steps, dead.


telling meeting with di who is now resolved to interfere a bit and ask if all is well. the intercepting of the beastly letter has her thinking. i am trying to hear her, but please must a man look so deadly even in red tika? partucularly so in fact. brown suit, red teeka, should be a fashion disaster but aaargh.



daljeet is a lovely anjali and the bro sis vibe consistently beautiful and believable, though i am a rough tough sort so anjali's gentleness and cheek stroking can drive me nuts at times, but it's such a lovely way of showing how much he actually needs to be shown love too, though he doesn't say so... contrary nature, you'll show me love, i'll harrumph and stalk off but you'll know i am thrilled inside and really thrive on"laad" from those who matter to me, and i don't need too many such people, in fact i won't allow too many such, just one... or maybe two.

anjali shoos away her irritating brother, after his utterly devastating, "main aisa hi hoon" i am like that (yeah he is and please do not try to change him anyone), and that gorgeous, "di jo bolna hai clearly bolo". then she comes to khushi and while explaining her strange bro's ways, gives her the deadliest weapon to attack her rakshas with... love. seems he can't, never could handle being petted and loved... 

di explains, he puts up a badi si diwar, a huge wall, if you evince lub, but if you work with him his way, you'll reach him and get to see a new asr... aha! "ab ek nayi khushi kumari gupta singh raizada bhi nazar aayenge. toh yeh hai shaitan ka asli raaz!" now a new kkgsr will be visible too, so that's the beast's secret.


next thing you know, she has a long ghungat on and dragging his feet, he leaps up, sees her new look freaks out... goes to check his shoes... he knows the minx he's married. "kuch dala hai kya!" a brusque question, and very cleverly writers connect us to one of the cutest and most love releasing days in all of ipk, episode 75, mango juice in shoe because she couldn't get orange, ohhh will he ever forget that day, his heart did such a flip, and his smile had to lopside.

we are reminded by just that one dialogue that this is kkg, she is quite capable of these childish plans and extra filminess. in fact, she thrives on this whole thing. 


she's all sweetness, he's hassled... he can sense a full blown strategy here. "kyunki aap humare pati hain... aur yeh humara kartavya hai," because you are my husband and this is my duty, she avers demurely to his ragged question... why are you taking off my shoe?

"no, i don't want any kartavya!" oh that hindi mix.


as she goes to leave, ready to dash into the door, a "khushi!" and a lunge forward to make sure she doesn't get hurt, and into the comedy gets mixed a stroke of "i love you dammit". 

"normally toh tumse chala nahin jata, upar se dupatta or liya... hatao isse," sublimely brusque the voice. normally? takes years to know a person that well, but in just six months he knows all about her "normally" and of course being laad governor he has the right to tell her to take off her ghungat in a loud commanding voice. lovely. 

i did always like his attitude to women... no need to change and do things to fit in with anyone or some archaic tradition, be your own person, do as you please.

"saath nibhana sathiya," wife is delighted with the results of her simple ploy. and dialogue writers have a lot of fun setting up a cool slick and filmi to and fro between the two.

"kya naya drama hai?" what's this new drama? aaah the voice, a funny sort of patience in it, he is going to put up with the drama, it's better than the silence.

"oh but it's been on for a while." she deliberately misunderstands. gh was writer of that serial too, and gopi vahu was pretty popular in her time, makes me wonder what the ladkiyan of my country want.

"i am talking about your drama."

"but mine is not that, taking care of you is my kartavya."

"DAMN THE KARTAVYA!" man stalks out, door is banged. i am again dead. who says death is forever, some you must return from again and again only to seek the pleasure of death once more.


wife gets ready to use his allergy to love as her "ramban davai"... she has found a path to reach him actually and stay very close, striking what she aims at... his heart.


next morning, all set to drive him nuts, she got blown away just looking at him. then she told herself to be strong and attack... be strong, huh? so you have feelings for this nasty man who has hauled you to the temple, turned your life into a mess... niiice.


"humney kaha uthiye na, swami!" i said, wake up, swami!

"swami... what...!!!" of course, swami had to look ddg in that flopped hair, just up from sleep state. and my favorite part of barun's face, his asymmetrical right lip, pulled down at the corner, at its sexiest in the swami days.


"aap ke 'what the' ke karan thandi ho rahi hai..." because of your 'what the' the tea's getting cold. shudh pure hindi with a little asr in it. ufff.

then came another classic: who the hell is swami?!!!

only barun can make that sound cute, confused, maddening, hot, little boy, all man. i am seriously considering upgrading myself from fangirl to groupie. 

"aap, aur kaun," you, who else, countered the fiend in green swirling alluring churidar kurta, veil adorning head.

sparkling dialogues, constant to and fro... "ghungat hatao, humey swami mat bulao!" remove the veil, don't call me swami... no please, thank you... only roughness and intimacy.

"kaise na bulao?" how not to call you? more drama, more foreplay... 

"yeh toh hamare kshma maangne ka..." this is my way of asking for forgiveness.

"kya maangne ka...?!!" the harvard grad is flummoxed by the shudh bhasha.

dialogue writer has a bit of fun with the real shudh bhasha speaker of the show, the totally crooked shyam... and the actor's name is tossed into madam's dialogue... an "abhaas" of whatever is mentioned.

"swami!! oh nnnot again... stop it just stop it..!!" he can't take it. 


"humne aap ka tauliya aur itr bahar rakha hai, aap nahane jaa sakte hain..." i have kept your towel and perfume, please go for your bath, says teh supreme patni/wife of the raizadas.

"haaanh?" is all the articulate tycoon can manage. i have a feeling had they been in a "normal" marriage too, he'd have not expected his wife to do such things. very cutely self sufficient this 27 year old... i like.

"pss.. pss parrfume..." khushi is incorrigible, and sanaya unsurpassable here.

he goes ballistic checking... "zaroor kuch gadbad hai", bet there's some hanky panky. i am thinking of the lovely gadbad episodes straight after teej... when she was so hung up on some gadbad that had happened. (episode 43)

"gadbad ho gayi, jiji... tumne uska naam le liya. ab saari raat humey neend nahin aayegi... baar baar ussika khayal aata rahega."  

in this episode, complete gadbad with his life. 

the poor man looks at her irate, and snarls, "swami se achha toh laad governor hi tha..." laad governor was better than swami... so he is willing to take one of her names. actually, she has given him that name first, and he has sort of gotten attached. she is "pagal" with an amused smile, he is "laad governor " with clenched teeth... another way of saying darling, sweet heart, lover, whatever.

asr is hot and hotter. kkgsr is fun and games and sexy... 

the fiend dances. the beast discovers colour in his wardrobe now. "what the!" at another level of pure sexiness is blasted out.

shudh hindi torture continues, shy and feminine "aapatti" fearing wife says, "aapki kameez kissi poorani film ki tarah lagti thi...", your clothes looked like some old film... she has thrown 'em all away... he is not throttling her, just glaring as she plays "kaanto wala phool" game... swami, this is love... 


as she leaves, of course, she walks into the door. and he yells, "dhyan se!", watch out... he hates watching her get hurt. he knows he's hurt her, he knows there was something wrong, galat in the way this happened. even if she were the harlot he believed her to be. most important, if he had his way, if he were not the man who took all responsibility on himself, he'd never ever ever hurt her. try throwing away even the sweetest gentlest man's entire wardrobe and see what he does. 

she hears his concern and she has to smile. though she covers it up with a phoney "shukriya" quickly.


toward the end of episode, some more rambans at the viewer.

asr talks to akash... uff.


asr yells at hp, "JAAAO!" again i leave the planet.

and yes, he was bare torso, the flattest stomach, the most toned arms and clavicle, the towel there to make it all look hotter, hair wet and tousled, anger in his eyes and stance, right lip dragged down and demanding swoons.


it's a good thing she had her dupatta on... otherwise foreplay would have gone much further than shudh tv audience can take.

and finally, the ultimate torture and loss of identity for our hero... he is in red, she is giggly and triumphant in green... go and stop, constant signaling.


two actors, perfectly matched in their ability to portray a range of feelings and delightfully versatile, kept sexy alive and kicking despite the ha ha. this is really really tough actually. comedy has a brain thing to it and sex a gut thing, in most cases, the brain tends to drown out the gut in our world where such a premium is put on being sharp and witty, a premise of the brain. the writing was easy and light and the actors made it sparkle and dance.

sorry to say, one of the clearest indications that creatives were getting lost... all the trp and channel interference and demand had put too much pressure, the first crack that showed... babli.

and if you inspected a bit more, you'd see akash and payal's character being pushed around, not really headed anywhere. i am the last one to quibble about pure language and stuff but what is "aap ne meri subah bana di?" i bet none of the dialogue guys wrote that... direct translation from angrejiii? but mano kept my heart with her "kishmishes."

i watched 50 this morning, when khushi left for lucknow... there were several separate segments... nani la mami and cooking, kkg leaving, shyam looking for her, di and ar at lakshminagar. the episode tied everything up so neatly, easy flow into each other, wonderful use of dialogues, no lose ends, such great use of asr/anjali/shyam in front of kkg's house, anjali as usual hiding from reality behind puja... these were creatives fresh and inspired, interested in every second of the episode. unfortunately, forced marriage on, that interest waned.






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