Saturday, 30 January 2016

episode 92 deep fried love

he's in a haze. he can't focus. he walks up to the kitchen, "khushi."
she swivels around, hassled at the sight of him, her project is to control dhakdhak, that thing triggered by "acidity" or whatever, and this requires that she avoid looking at him, being with him, being anywhere near him, talking to him, the works.

as episode 92 opened, did you hear the sound of a drill boring or was it a mixer/blender that was layered with the music, as he started to feel the surges of blackout? hitchcock apparently had used a watermelon being stabbed with a knife to create the sound effects of the famous and heart stopping shower scene in psycho. here that sound of a machine relentless, humming with a metallic edge, throbbing, out of place. 

intruding on shots of him beginning to come apart, it effected a funny kind of terror, of extreme worry. the first few times i'd seen this scene, all i could do was look at him and wonder what the, but this time that sound reached me, giving depth and texture to the whole thing, a spike in a scene quite flat in terms of colour. barun was understated and convincing, camera controlled the desire to go ott. that sound was enough to create panic.

khushi said, "aap aap yahan kyun aaye hai... rukiye... humne aapse kaha tha na, hum aap se door rehna chahte hain. aap jaaiye yahan se," what are you doing here... stop...i'd told you hadn't i, i want to stay away from you? go away from here.

ah, the temerity... to order the man out of his own kitchen.

"khushi, mujhe wo..." but she cuts in...

"aap kisi ki baat sunte bhi ho ya nahin..." do you ever you listen to anyone? traces of her nuttiness beginning to enter frame. "hum kya kah rahein hai aap se... naahi hum aap se baat karna chahte hain... naahi hum aapka shakal dekhna chahte hain" what am i telling you... don't wanna talk to you... don't wanna see your face.

in her bid to solve the acidity issue, she's decided not to look for the cause, but the remedy. some part of khushi no doubt knew that isolating the cause would be far worse than the dhakdhak. might endanger life itself. for certain truths are rarely prepared for in the shelter of our monitored upbringing, where a notion of what's good and palatable is firmly fixed in the mind before a girl reaches any age of independent thought.

and certainly, an arrogant, devil may care, self made, destiny and devi maiyaa challenging man who's drop dead gorgeous is not not not desirable or palatable for a "good," "decent," "middle class" girl.

so she tells him to disappear. not to rustle her veneer of knowledge and calm regarding the opposite gender.

he disappears.

she bends to pick up the duster and sees him...

and suddenly, that calm is set aside and khushi goes right out of her comfort zone. when the man who causes your breath to race, lies helpless on the floor, can you be expected to keep your guard up?

and one of the most intimate episodes comes into play. have i ever seen them so close to each other in every possible way? especially her?

the panic she flew into when she saw him lying there. the desperate note in her call of "arnav ji... arnav ji," the pacing, the jerky motion.

the trying to do something... anything... to bring him back, the phonecalls everywhere, the rushing to get some water when he managed to  say "paani paani,"... and then sprinkling, then dousing him with it only to see his eyes open. so much water, that when he came to he had to say "stop it," in that very asr way, and the viewer had to die.

but khushi couldn't care less about the viewer, all she was focused on was him. told us didn't she, she didn't want him near her, didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to see his face.

her hands just reached out to him, wanting to grasp solidity, shaken as she was by the sight of this strong man who strode the moment, lying there on the ground, struggling to get back on his feet, but failing, passing out.

when he asked for a jalebi, first she was confused. he had diabetes, so how...? but his insistence had her rushing to get her favourite sweet for him, and as he lay dazed, without thought of demurring, she held it to his lips.


did rabba vey start playing here? i didn't notice, but i felt it inside me. feeding someone is perhaps one of the most intimate and tender things one can do. and there's an edge of sexuality in it when a man and a woman are involved in this act. the sheer physicality of it gives one a stir. perhaps that adage about the way to a man's heart being through his stomach is not just about the path to his love but also to his desire. in the most intense relationships love and desire lose boundaries and entangle with each other.

the two before me were losing boundaries right now. there was a pretext, but even with that, would khushi have gotten quite so close, quite as urgent had it been someone else? of course, she would have been most worried, and done whatever she could. yet there was a sense of "you matter to me, oh i can't bear not to see your face or hear your voice" in her actions.

jalebi bai fed jalebi to her laad governor. her beloved mithai, crisp on the outside, wild orangy swirls, sweet and flowing inside. a little like her almost, especially that crazy swirliness of it. felt almost as though asr was caressing khushi with his lips as he groggily lingered on the bite and took one finally. khushi never lost her concentration on him. are you ok are you ok tell me you are ok echoed all around.

he came to. tried to stand up, started to flail, and again without hesitation, her arms came up on either side of him, as she formed a barrier with her body, a support for him. you won't fall as long as i am there. she can save him in the kitchen, she can save him from a kidnap.

of course, the moment he recovered, he had to be him. an almost funny "hato" broke the spell. maybe it was too beautiful for him too, strangely exciting, to see her inches from him, right up against him, arms open wide, come i will take care of you, i am here, you are safe. lover, protector, all of it in in that one stance of hers. something exciting about this beautiful man who the world leans on, being cradled and kept standing by the slip of a girl.

guess he really had to walk away from that. she kept worrying about him, he assured her there was nothing to fear, just a sugar drop. don't tell di. in earlier discussions i have read many people's opinions that diabetics apparently do not pass out if they don't take medicine for a day. so, ok, maybe medically off the mark. but so on the dot in many other ways.

though khushi never says it in so many words, but her involvement with him is riveting here. and in the next scene, her beguiling attraction. she adores looking at the man, but has no idea why. this episode really explored khushi's response, the undeniable element of her relationship with asr.

khushi fretted about her bad behaviour. and the time before he had come to her, now she walked into the lion's den to apologise. for the occasion, she wore make up. besan.

how fabulously writers linked a casually introduced pakoda way back in the story, i think on the day khushi undertook the training of la, to some of the most sexy and expressive scenes of the tale. a simple, deep fried in oil, humble concoction of gram flower, onions, chillies, coriander powder, a little soda if you like... deep fried things are really good for you.

sound of zip, an overnighter is closed, man in brown black waist coat on the phone. isn't it hot suddenly. that waistcoat and that sleekness.

"hum log by road aa rahe hain... mai aur lavanya," we're coming by road, lavnanya and i. he's discussing the trip with someone. could this be aman who entered our lives next episode?

knock knock.

heart stopping handsome visage.

she stands there and again, "aap theek toh hain na?" you're ok, aren't you? third time.

he nods, "i'm fine."

at that, because of sheer relief perhaps, her sanka leaps out, "hum bhi na, galat samay par galat baat karte hain... bahut badi paglahet hain... hume maaf kar dijiye..." i say all the wrong things at the wrong time... i am such a nut case... forgive me... nonstop talk starts.

and she streaks her cheek with besan. he's aghast.

"wo... hume pata nahin tha..." oh i didn't know...

she is so absorbed in her guilt, his "khushi, tumhare gaal par" khushi, something on your cheek...  gets no attention. some more batter is slathered on...

"you won't forgive me... whatever i did wasn't on purpose, it was because of dhakdhak and acidity..." she is unstoppable.

"khushi... tum..." he begins, with a sweet little break in the stern features... 

then a smile...  just as he had on the night di spoke of saansey ruk jaaygi. and later on the day of "ajeeb", when khushi said she had to pour mango juice in his shoe because she couldn't find orange juice
then he starts to laugh. delighted happy carefree.

she's entranced.
and maybe this is when she falls for him once more. or for a moment realises dhakdhak wasn't acidity.

"chhotey, tum... tum has rahe ho?" i can't believe you are laughing like this... kitne saalo ke baad humney tumhari yeh hansi suni hai.. i hear your laughter after years. di is surprised and overwhelmed to see her perennially grim brother laughing.

of course, he has to return to his shell, but before that he has to tell di what it is that has him in splits. a suave gesture with the hand. there. that besan covered innocent face. how cute and sexy was this whole thing, very man woman, with a glint of a naughty boy in it.

"haste hue aap bilkul bhi laad governor nahin lagte," when you laugh you don't look like laad gov at all. a girl smiles to herself thinking about a handsome man that makes her feel different. a quiet intimate moment.

an episode of intimacy. just the day before, he had rushed to her with a container of food wanting to let her open her fast, feel the touch of nourishment, energy. today she gave him that, sugar to make him feel up and alive. food, such a basic instinct. tied to our desire, to survival, to joy, to emotion, to love. when a man marries a woman in bengal, he promises to take care of that which covers her body and which nourishes it... bhat kapod... rice, cloth. and then there's laughter, the spontaneous opening of the heart, of happiness. eat with me, laugh with me, make me return to myself, eat laugh love.

at last, we are set for the ride to nainital.

"baye ka chakaar, dayen ka jhatka, phir aram se jalebi wala chakka... hai khul gaya" a little swing to the left, and a swing to the right, then a gentle swirl of jalebi... and the boot is open.

pakodas in place, a secret plan to have asr and la in a clinch in the middle of nowhere progressing well. and the dupatta does its trick again. did anyone notice how determined it was to get khushi into the boot?

la has allergy. can't go to nainital. l.o.g. naya phassun hai kya? asks the incorrigible mami ji. nahi mami ji, gadbad ho gayi.

again gadbad, again jalebi, and with, "i don't care about the damn pimple!" again gussa. if i read the signs accurately, all is well and acidity will be incurable... hamesha.

ooops, just noticed i made a mistake, no, he didn't ask for water, he was almost unconscious, she muttered "paani paani," and went to get some frantically. also apologies for not mentioning the parallel love story, blossoming in "bhaji gali," the vegetable market. it was very sweet. and a perfect contrast to the drama love that has all my attention when i watch.

ps: that besan on face thing most likely inspired by the story of how raj kapoor met nargis the first time at her mother jaddan bai's home. she opened the door and apparently while talking, pushed her hair back leaving a streak of besan on her face, she'd been cooking. mr kapoor was reportedly enchanted. years later in the 1973 film bobby, when raj meets bobby for the first time, she is baking and while talking to raj, pushes her hair back land there's flour on her face that she is quite unaware of. love of course happens... 



  1. you mean raj kapoor met nargis :) btw love your blog :D

    1. thanks so much yes, i meant nargis... glad you like the blog, do browse happily.