Friday, 6 November 2015

episode 235 combat zone







enter into blind darkness: those who delight in the true cause, enter, as it were, into greater darkness.
~~~ vagasaneyi-samhita-upanishad ~~~


darkness. episode started with that. and i was reminded of the night before janmashtami when lights went off and yet he could sense her and she him... later, as we went toward nainital, there was again a lights off scene, and he leapt to save khushi instead of his girl friend, completely attracted to her on the same day that he had berated her scathingly and bruised her arm... unspeakably stirring attraction. darkness in ipk always reveals and illuminates. leads us again and again to the heart of a feeling, the light in its core. diwali kiss was on amavasya night of course. he married her one dark night in a temple illuminated only by the havan fire... and telepathy, oh so sublimely in the night lit only by stars.





"load bad gaya ji," the load has gone up, said the electrician. how could that have happened wondered the mausis and chachas of  lakshminagar.

that's the specialty of this place, declared the electrician, whenever a "nayi machine" arrives, they are the first to know.

and what a nayi machine has arrived just this morning! a nice arch one on asr, rather liked the dialogue writer's tongue firmly in cheek words.

while the friendly lot living in bua ji's mohalla agreed that since he was damad, they would put up with the inconvenience and spend the night without electricity, the damad came out with biwi looking a bit fazed... what the. he had no idea this would or could happen.

khushi is in consternation. her bua had to face the whole neighbourhood and explain thanks to her laad governor.

asr is also affected. "uh main kissiko repair karne ke liye bulwa leta hoon..." let me call someone to fix the problem he says, concerned, trying to solve things as usual.

"koi zaroorat nahin hai..." there's no need, says an irate khushi.

if this is not husband wife, what is.

and the two older women, perfectly in law like, caught in the middle, try to pacify the warring couple.

the darkness took us directly to something lovely and a little crazy like everything to do with asr khushi love.



love in the time of pink mosquito net.

rather neat the way that made its entry and coloured the whole scenario a shade more weird and dare i say wonderful.

who would have thought when they saw the man descend stylishly from a helicopter, long legs sexily unwinding, aviators coming off, that one day he'd be lying ensconced in a gulabi macchardani on an orange floral printed bedsheet getting solidly kicked and punched by a girl in a salwar kurta with an off centre choti.

thanks, kate, for the sbs segment, one look at the two actors and you know why they could pull this one off without it looking totally corny or just plain ha ha. oh the undercurrents of desire shooting around.

"woh chandni raat si hai" got going.

first a little you me fight. my side, your side, etc.

"lagta hai yahan ke maccharo ko bhi sugar ki bimari hai tabhi toh aapka peechha nahin chhor rahe..." seems like the mosquitoes here have diabetes too, they refuse to leave you.

as usual sanaya is in form in this angry saucy khushi mode, and asr always on cue... each expression perfect, in tandem they move, back and forth, squabbling.

just another kind of pillow talk... woman talks... man gets busy with solving yet another problem... a divider of a rolled bedcover is placed in the centre of the narrow bed... to do what exactly?

lakshman rekha set by ram ji? so that he doesn't touch sita ji who thinks he is ravan maharaj?

he seems to be barricading himself really, knows he will fall apart with her sleeping next to him.

she who has never slept with a man and certainly not him, is most easy about the whole thing... obviously has not given it any thought. khushi rarely looks at unpalatable things unless she must.

"yeh humara pala hai..." this is my pala.

"pala?"

"side."

"'scuse me... yeh meri side hai," really asr, this is your side? but this ain't your bed. this whole interaction is so typically husband and wife, territory claiming, fighting over sides.

they get into verbal skirmish, sounds like foreplay.

my house, my bed, my side, get up! she commands him.

he does. she is a tad cowed.

he of course says the sweetest thing, right, where do i get to sleep in my own bed even at home.

"bechare chhotey!" mocks the missus.

"shut up!" flirts the hubs.

he is utterly dishy telling his wife that he gets why her side of the bed squeaks... can't keep quiet, just like her.

finally, they lie down... on their separate sides... but soon all will change, sides will bash crash merge. on their first night together on the same bed, under a rosy haze, it turns into a battlefield.

a seriously painful one. 5:18 taekwondo starts. the attacker sleeps, the opponent is wide awake and angry and um who knows what else...
arm on you.
catch, fling.
legs on you.
push away and glare.
both legs ride you, huh!
off with your leg, you!
turn and cover your chest with one outflung lissome arm.
catch the wrist, thrust away...
but she lies against him... the rekha has been royally crossed.
turn away.
let me push against you with my body.
off the bed you...
got to cling to pink net to stay on the bed.
push back with the tush, give the girl a taste of her own med.
and roll out, kick lightly, throw hand on neck, leg on waist...
at 6:12/13 peaceful coexistence is agreed upon. 


   


he wakes up and finds her hand lying on his neck, casually, naturally, he wants to throw her hand away but while she sleeps isn't he allowed to feel what he feels? a strange situation they find themselves in... this was the way perhaps they would have woken up every morning if everything had gone the way he thought they might...

special mention... barun's waking up. wipes his mouth with back of sleeve, moves around as though slowly letting the sleep go, begins to get up... brilliantly natural. good direction... worth the linger on the wake up.

he goes back for a little snooze... reaches down, pushes her leg off and in one movement turns, all set to shout maybe.

but there is her innocent face, she sleeps deeply...

piano notes come quietly in... feelings that will not be denied and whacked away like a mosquito... no matter how irritating they are.



he looks at her hand on his neck... eyes travel slowly back to her face... thoughts... he holds her hand and can't really let it go...

she wakes up, awkward at their proximity, her hand on him...and she reaches for her dupatta... a telltale sign of embarrassment, feeling lost.

she has never slept next to him. tender sweet seconds.

then grumbles the man, seeking a return to status quo maybe?


i couldn't sleep even a minute the whole night.


"hum toh aisa hi sotey hain..." i sleep like this, said khushi. poor payal, i think."


"oh really! pahle toh tum kabhi aise nahin soyi..." you've never slept like this before, he comes back. so he watches her every night.


"aap ko kaise pata, aaj tak hum dono..." how do you know, till date we have never slept on the same bed, khushi is quick to return. she is chilli hot kkgsr till the fact she has mentioned hits her.

divine awkwardness...




and piano notes enter, ascend.


if the night gave us khushi at her weirdest, and asr helplessly attracted no matter what, she was lovely mysterious moonlight like, now it was "hai dhoop sa agar woh" time, and asr was as dazzling as that sun up above, no agar magar.

khushi couldn't help but stare. gawk, gape, and stare some more, her face bemused, besotted.

when he left for a morning jog (whose voice was that calling out to aunty?), khushi glanced at the clock, and seemed like a plan hit her. so out she went to get after him and delay him as much as possible.



asr music polished and western in sound with akhada music rugged and robust laid over, a man in black lopes elegantly... something is about to happen.

nice set up.

"arrey namaste, beta!" calls out lakshminagar uncle ji from the little local gym by the street. early morning exercise on full swing.

"morrrning," says damad ji (stop that accent now, i can't keep dying every few seconds, samhje aap?).

as he tries to get on with his jog and not get waylaid into doing a routine with the dumbbells and embrace the happy lakshminagar moment, he hears his wife "translating" on his behalf.

"yeh kah rahen hain ki hum theek hain..." he is saying he is ok.

a classic asr palat to look at his taekwondo queen.



who promptly goads him, let it be, chacha ji, he can't do it.

ohhhohoho, now there is no question... he must show her what he can or cannot do. there was a slight suggestion earlier by one of the men that perhaps he was not man enough to pick up the dumbbells, he had ignored that... his ego isn't fragile and he certainly isn't into showing off. he knows how good he is with this sort of thing.

she goads further, "theek se utha bhi nahin paa rahe hain," he won't be able to pick it up properly. you better jog, she tells him.

asr music enters nice and slow, a zip goes zzzip. and the teaser is trapped. eyes widen.

ooops, jacket off.

her taekwondo... his akhada number... neither knew the other had this in them.

a revelation episode surely.

my eyes are stuck on muscles rippling near shoulders now, so are khushi's.

he looks at his real challenger. gorgeous series of tracking and close up shots of the two in the challenger mode... great akhada ishtyle music. works, this desi version rather sexily too.



and an arm swings up with the dumbbell... she goes slowly googly eyed, yessir, your husband ji who jogs and clogs your arteries with dhakdhak can do weights too and how... try to remain cool if you can.

this is like a mirror of the bed scene... then he had been affected, mesmerised. and look at her now.

supreme grace, abs ease, the man is an expert at this thing.

then he lifts two of those wooden hulks and swings them around deftly, his arms swing, open, fly... it's a dance really.

girl watches mouth open now.

thanks to bad res could not get that shot where we see him from the back, his clavicle muscles and biceps etched.



fluid sinuous, sinfully beautiful fluid muscles all over his arms, back, shoulders. not bulked up but drawn it seems with extreme care.

"maje hue khiladi. yeh toh sab kuch kar sakte hain," uncle 2 says this one's an expert player, he can do everything.

um, ah... innuendo there?

wife ogles... applause from akhada mates.

khoosie bitiya is asked to give her man some aqua.

and he comes to her on beats of drum... a glass of water she waits with.

"paani pijiye..." she mumbles. it was delightful to see her attraction. i find any unnecessary awkwardness around women's sexuality or normal healthy desire almost offensive now.

don't want "good" girl, give me this woman any day, eyes going almost drowsy with that jolt of awareness. wonder what she was thinking teehee.



"pakdo isse," hold this, says he. breeze blows through the grainy voice...

he hands her the dumbbell casually. he is not happy about that baiting. but even as she collapses he helps her up...

"rahne do, khushi!" let it be, khushi... a little condescending... "tum nahin pakad paogi," you won't be able to hold it. all sorts of not very innocent thoughts in my mind...but i shall be very achhi... just thinking though, if "thoda dard hoga," it'll hurt a little, triggered so much giggling... this one is lots of ahem aha.




  
instead of drinking the water, the man pours it all over his head and face... khushi is first astonished, then totally dumbstruck. lovely this onset of desire... natural, beautiful... a girl is allowed to have sexual feelings, desire, craving everything... no, kkgsr did not go shyam hunting on her suhag raat, please tell that to the birds because even trp aunties did not buy that humbug.


and just for that look on her face, i will overlook the fact that even this disrobing and muscle show of the man was meant to raise trp. it did succeed in raising my heart rate and disturbing my cholesterol and bp levels.

but it became part of story, a story of attraction, that starts who knows why and where and then grows all the way, from out to right in.


he looks at her realising he seems to be having some sort of affect on her... he was out to show her not attract her... she looks away just as he starts sensing the thing in her... lovely. the gentlest brushing of two forces.

 
a little bit of his water is on her, she wipes it... intimate, a sense of touch there.

many many little details through out this scene made it rich and delicately crafted.

she starts her game again... to delay him.

back at home, the bathroom saga begins. "nand kissore!" sings bua ji as she hurtles out and he is trying to get in...

"kahan nahay, babua," where did you bathe, sonny, buaji asks looking at teh perspiration drenched man

"bua ji, yeh pasina hai, main exercise kar raha tha" this is not sweat, bua ji, i was exercising, says asr. love this matter of factness. no drama... just who he is.

i never realised why she kept delaying him, when i did, i wanted to kill someone.

pass me a dumbbell.
 
but wait, i need to see them collar bones. 
what hurts you, blesses you. darkness is your candle.
~~~ rumi ~~~





......................

episodes of swami and 
taekwondo queen
episode rambles
fanfiction










No comments:

Post a comment