Monday, 7 December 2015

episode 258 to love

a long time ago, when he was still involved with another girl, in fact engaged to her, he had forgotten everything and remembered only her. khushi. for she had looked troubled, distracted, fragile and brittle. like the pieces of the mug that had broken when she'd dashed against him by the poolside in her rush to get away from something terrible.

he had been angry, but then that was usual. then he had seen her eyes and everything had turned in a chaotic pulse beat to driving urgent concern, worry. what was the matter with khushi? why was she in this state? had anyone hurt her... then horror dawning... had her... had her... and no matter how much it hurt to say it he had asked if her fiance, her mangetar had done anything... did he do anything to hurt you? the flare of protective anger in his being, his eyes, the instinct to guard her, to not spare anyone who had hurt her.

she had almost said yes, almost told him what her fiance had done, but then she had fled.

leaving him worried, disoriented, unable to focus on anything. not his girlfriend even; he was unable to hide his feelings... he had openly shown his concern, his sister had noticed... so had his girl friend.

he had called her again and again that day. and finally when she'd picked up the phone, he had raged, "don't you ever, ever do this to me again... samjhi tum!!" the first time perhaps clearly saying... she mattered.

to him.

of course the layers of anger and his long nurtured defence, his fortress of indifference, and khushi's complete mental disarray at that moment had come in the way of a real delving into that unguarded statement of his.

"pata hai kabse phone baja raha hoon main... tumne phone nahin kyun uthaya...kitne pareshan ho gaya tha main" do you know for how long i have been trying to call you... why didn't you pick up the phone... i was so worried, he had yelled... then he had somehow controlled his ire and let his concern, his need to hear that she was ok come to the fore...

"khushi...khushi... talk to me..."

she had been dumbstruck... still fragile.

"tum theek ho?" he had asked his classic question to her, perhaps itself a semaphore signal, a telegraphic code of his vast emotion, his deep feelings for her. three little words.

"kahan ho tum!" he wanted to know where she was, what was the matter, was she alright... this is a man supposedly to whom she means nothing, koi matlab nahin, he had left no opportunity to let her know she meant nothing to him, she had no importance in his life.

then he had gone running back to his wall of don't care. no he was not at all concerned about her, it was the work not getting done that bothered him.

today again a phonecall has been made. it is he who is where no one knows. only one call, and everyone must be reached through it...

did he even know or think he would reach the one he really needed to now.

then or now, it was always her.

the faraq only perhaps is he now knows exactly why... kyun faraq padta hai. and going even further he knows... that is all that matters.

that she matters.

to him.

the episode moved not too elegantly but surely toward the call. there was anxiety building in khushi about the whereabouts of asr. she tried to pretend he called when di's worry started to peak, so unlike chhotey, not to call, even though she has left a message. nani caught khushi's lie.

khushi and nani's confabulations by the pool were overheard by masala mama, who ran to his cousin manorama, who slowly extracted the truth and spoke loudly so, most conveniently, di could overhear... and in this chinese whispers the main message managed not to get lost.

chhotey hasn't reached london, di cried... and the glass of milk fell to the ground.

an inauspicious sign no doubt.

all along shyam was seen noting the events, twitching, fretting.

foolish me thought then, he was not the big bad guy, just a sicko henchman. alas.

when matters were taken all the way to let's call the cops, shyam sidled out of the room pretty fast and seconds later the phone rang.

anjali picked up the phone as nani wondered who could be calling so late at night.

she said, "hello!" then her expression changed, she exclamed, "chhotey!"

swiftly, and just like with her brother, relief turned to anger, "chhotey, tum kahan pe ho, tumhe pata hai hum log tumhari kitni chinta kar rahe hain. tumne pahunchne ke baad ek phone bhi nahin kiya... ek message bhi nahi kiya, chhotey!" you didn't even call once after reaching, not even a message you sent, chhotey!

and we have the first new shot of him in almost nine days, after 251.

his head is bent, then he raises it and his face is sombre. almost expressionless. hair flops on forehead, the only sign that he is not in complete control, yet a certain poise.

"di, i'm sorry, main..."

and di butts in with an angry "sorry!"

khushi swallows.

"tum jaantey ho hum yahan pe kitna pareshan ho rahe hain..." do you know how pareshan we all are here...

pareshan... an echo of that conversation from episode 141.

"haan di main london nahin gaya, kyunki mujhe last moment par scotland aana pada..." yes, di, i didn't go to londsn had to come to scotland last minute.

now why did this feel so terribly asr.. find a solution, no matter what, don't hurt di, the fam... don't make them worry. i will get things done.. i am here...

even if a man is pointing a gun at him as we soon realise... mind is thinking.

when di says "tum theek toh ho na..." as someone who loves you would i guess, he replies with that cool that is asr...

"yeah, di i'm fine."

nani grabs the phone.

"chhotey, kaisan hain aap?" chhotey, how are you. her tears and smiles mingle as she tells him she will forgive him this one last time.

and that flicker of the eye, the slight hesitation... what will i tell her to make sure she is reassured, unconsciously a little vulnerability maybe in the eyes... he is so like her in many ways.

silence... then, "ji, nani" to her command to call no matter how busy with a look at khushi... brilliant acting by jayshree t i thought. also by daljeet, her body language when she realises it's chhotey, she sort of sits up, thrusting forward, life in her suddenly.

hello hi bye bye gestures that the phone be given to her, and she rushes in, "arnab bitwa, bhat you dooj?!!"

on the face of asr, a little frown maybe... it's his whacky mami.

"haan mami, bas woh," was there a slight smile?

mami's question about "isskatland se ka laane wale ho?" what are you getting me from scotland, gets the smiles going...

perhaps something feels normal... at last. it has been two days in captivity, no idea what's coming. he tied in ropes to a chair as we shall soon see. a man of extreme energy, strength, always active, suddenly stationery... bound. why am i thinking of samson tied. often a sense of a mythic hero comes by and seems to recognise something of itself in asr... and leaves a trace of it behind as it leaves.

yes, this time definitely a smile as mami prattles.

"khushi, abhi toh thoda muskura de, ab toh arnav ji ka phone bhi aa gaya," payal urges a her forlorn younger sister to smikle, now that arnav ji has called. she obviously can't bear to see khushi the ever sprightly girl in this state.

"iskatland se isskiretwa leke aao... kaisan ho tum?" mami's talk continues.

he is silent. onto aakash who takes the phone from his mother with a "zara mujhe ..."

asr's face is impassive as he lies to akash in a confident voice... aman doesn't know of this deal.

then a slight hesitation, "l-listen main, shayad touch mein nahin rah paaoonga.." i may not be able to stay in touch. asr is making sure his fam does not worry.

the reception here no good... don't tell di... "phaltoo mein tension lengi..." will be tense for no reason.

"di ka aur..."  a "k" is stuck back of his throat wanting to rush out... "khushi ka khyal rakhna."

take care of di and khushi. a thickening of voice... he may never see them again and be able to do just that. his duty, his desire only to take care of these two people... he knows at this moment, this may never happen again.


the piano trills, my heart again flips... why so much sincerity, mister... why should you give such a convincing take... you are just a tv actor, plus you are doing double shifts as you shoot for that movie of yours. you are tired... just give a take and go... not that your telly serial will be judged at cannes or anything. but no, you got to do it just right... right?

then akash surprised him, without asking, "achha bhai aap khushi ji se baat kijiye..." okay, speak to khushi ji...  eyes widened and gleamed ever so slightly.

rabba vey rose.

seemed as though this bit all creatives had woken up for.

khushi looked struck by a terrible emotion... she took the phone and walked away from the rest.

this phone somehow precious beyond all now, her path to arnav ji.

he waited as if to hear her but she said nothing, at last he got ready to speak.

he closed his eyes, pursed his lips, a streak of emotion unsettling.

at last he called out, lips  trembling a bit, unsure? what was it...

"khushi" intimate, special every time, an appeal, a connection.

and the gust of wind rose.

her eyes said she had heard that call. after so long, her name on his lips. she had probably despaired wondering would she ever hear it. how he had called her in her dream... but now he was here, just across that line.

camera closed up on asr's face... a vulnerability now certainly.

hearing his voice a dam broke and tears came... she had been saying again and again all will be well while filling up with the worst fears...

now he spoke to her...

he listens carefully, the breeze does its thing... it seems to wrap around them and create a separate space, somewhere outside this given physical reality for them... "yahan na sahi, shayad kahin aur ek duniya hogi, jahan tum... aur main kabhi alag nahin hongey" ranjha's words had painted a picture of a world elsewhere where he and her would never be separated... the wind seemed to create just that.

he struggles to say something, she grabs the phone with her other hand too... him, that's who she wants to hold, the phone is just a proxy... she is trying to keep him with her.

"kh.. khushi i'm fine, main theek hoon.. okay..." a breezy voice, level, yet urgent and strangely palpable, as though it is murmuring against her skin...

he's rushing a bit, he wants so much to make her feel alright... he knows she is collapsing... he just knows... what a simply gorgeous understanding of an emotion. i wonder who wrote this bit.

sensitive writing all of a sudden after a while, felt so good,.

"please mat ro..." please don't cry. he sounds so sincere, almost close to tears himself, my legs feel weak and this is i don't know how manyeth time. i feel like a fake marketeer "talking up" a product, but really this is so product worth putting every bit of your money on.

she sobs silently.

rabba vey.

he waits, then,

"khushi bas... bas stop..." a little asr command.

she cries away.

a  slightly impatient asr head turn, "khushi, rona... band karo." stop crying.

why do his lips look so tender, why do they tremble a bit... asr? what's up.

and the melody sweetens, softens, sings a bit, his heart wants to say something... "khushi, main..."

his mouth opens but the words are not there yet...

"khushi, main... woh..."

he must say this... he must.

she weeps, she senses he struggles... but she really has no idea why...

he waits, she grabs the phone in two hands again... hmm hm hmm hums rabba very

and he says it...

"khushi, i love you..."

the volume is  a bit higher, the echo clearer.

but no one put anything in the eyes... that was all him.

her eyes widen.

on his face the most open vulnerable look... not since the day he was missing his mother and buried his face against his sister, this lack of mask. an open expression. simple, true, no game, nothing... a man in love on a phonecall to his beloved holding her close in his heart, telling her he loves her, bas.

at last the undercurrents always flowing below their conversations were heard and said clearly what it was he had really said with every shut up, get out, tum jaisi ladki, seatbelt, tum theek ho, don't you ever... ever do this to me... samjhi tum, koi matlab nahin... and most of all with mujhe faraq nahin padta. 

khushi main...

khushi main woh...

khushi, i love you


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