Saturday, 30 January 2016

episode 94 where are you going 2


finally, she is ready to hold his hand and get out.

but was she ready to get propelled straight up to him, almost in his arms, her arms holding him involuntarily for balance... ah what physics... a spot of heady momentum.

was she ready to feel that crazy feeling at his closeness or he at hers? you can yell and shout and insult each other, you can irritate each other, call each other names, but can you deny the shiver up your spine at a certain nearness, the goosebump at the back of your ears, and oh that dhakdhak. 


from the top

the "khushi" that grazed against his throat as it came out was strangely soft and brimming with fear replacing irritation, in his hand a piece of sparkling blue glass, a broken bit of a bangle she had been wearing. the woods seem to close in around him, where was she? those "junglee janwar" wild animals she had said she was trying to fool with her prattle, had they...?

"khushiii!" a wild leap in his voice, a bit of anger in it and that fear. do you hear me, it's not funny, where are you where are you, a panic series of questions trailed it in silence. of course, that's exactly when director said cut, editor switched to shyam and his shenanigans.

babu ji asked shyam a tricky question about the third of march. what's this date on your driving license if you and khushi share the same birthday? akash met payal at the door, gentle music played. his heart lifted and his eyes said as much. his mother spied the two and with mother's instinct kicking in, she had to immediately dislike the tension of the man woman sort in the air around her son. 
"phatti saree part two!" shrieked the sweet subtle sophisticated... not, manorama. but akash ignored mother and decided his extremely urgent work for which he was rushing out and was therefore at the door, could wait till bhai reached nainital. oh the flutters of new love. and yuck the falsities of an old decrepit liar. shyam said he'd lied... what? music went up, three concerned faces stared at him, i thought the typical serial moment of repeated close ups would hit us next.

thankfully, editor decided otherwise. shyam said he had to, because he was so sharp for his years that his age had to be tinkered with somewhat to get into school. what school was this, sss shyam? school for scoundrels? oh well. two faces cleared instantly at this explanation, but babu ji was far from convinced, growing even more suspicious and letting his thought spill into his tone when he averred, yes indeed, shyam was clever, very clever.

deciding that the viewer was just at the right point of tension, director returned us to the jungle.


"kahan dhoondhoo isse, dammit." where shall i search for her now, dammit. on that sexy dammit he hurled all his worry and panic. of course, the gritted teeth, the gritty voice, had certain viewers in a bit of a state.

"arnav ji..." her voice all of a sudden from somewhere, and quite calm and matter of fact at that. i enjoyed this craft in it. the contrast between the tones of the two voices... one growing ever more panicky, the other completely normal, about to say something most everyday.

his face changed. a bit dumbfounded.

"time kya hua hai, arnav ji?" what's the time, asked the lady of the cool voice.

"what!!!" who could blame the guy for sounding nonplussed. time? huh? here he was imagining a girl lost perhaps for ever, and now she asks what's the time?

if five minutes are over, i want to tell you, i have fallen into this ditch right behind you. he whirls around seeking her with his eyes, jaws clenching with the anger that rides behind relief (they say the innuits have hundreds of words for snow because it is such a part of their existence, anger is an integral part of asr, he expresses so many many emotions through it, with it, and somehow it's always around, his gussa, right on his nose, as his mother wrote, and who knows you better than your mom).

as he looks at her and his eyes glare, i am all set for fireworks.

then, just like that mysterious vanish of khushi's, the anger melts away, leaving behind flowing emotion. in it a concern most crucial, the sort of feeling you have about someone who does make a difference.

his voice drops, urgency in it, a rush, "khush- tumhe chot toh nahin lagi?" khush... no he needs to just ask her this first, you're not hurt, are you.

every time i have watched this scene, my heart has felt a thud and a falling sensation. tell me this is not good acting.

cute shake of head, in reply, from the girl in the ditch, who has to be threatened with salary cut for her to shut up. maybe that concern touched her somewhere? so for a second she was just a girl, looking at a boy, who had lots of warm flowy something in his eyes for her. and she didn't need to talk?

was her constant prattle also another sign of the worries that sat in her at times?

i had no time to consider this, because then came the asr anger. first a botched up trip, a girl friend acting irresponsibly, all the hassles of the road, the extreme panic a moment ago, now this sight. girl sitting nonchalant in a pit, completely calm.

he shouted. looking for you for so long, couldn't you reply earlier... "paagalon ki tarah dhoond raha hoon." searching for you madly. my stomach is in cleaving somersaults. why why are you looking for her madly, and why is your voice softening like that.

she was of course saving her salary. well half of it, sizable amount.

"you're impossible, khushi kumari gupta!"

"niklo bahar!" come out of there, a brusque command.

"achha agar khud nikal sakte toh idhar baithe rahte kya, yeh bhi toh caaman sense hui na," oh, if i could come out by myself, would i be sitting here, this is "caaman sense" isn't it.

at the "khushi" english, again his heart lightens, a change in music. sanaya is so refreshing and without a trace of guile here. maybe khushi is a bit winded, and wants to appear super cool. very khushi that would be. and which is why her break down holding him tight just six episodes and a day down would be as much a sign of all that he means to her.

he stands with his arm stretched out, waiting for her to climb out. first come the mojris, then pakoda box, he can't take it. while she dusts the slippers with a little moue and slips them on, the container of deep fried goodies gets a royal treatment and gets placed with care on the edge of the pit. 

finally, she is ready, and lets him pull her up and out. but she wasn't really ready for all that would lead to, was she? all that dhakdhak, that nearness that stops her breath... that stops his breath... that...

but that must be the pakoda, na? acidity? caaman sense, isn't it.

she's embarrassed, he too.

she sees dust on his jacket... eyes widen, he's puzzled she goes to dust it off quickly, then again awkwardness. delightful. though i keep thinking crying over what's done is pointless, there are moments when i miss this jodi and wonder if i'll ever see such powerful attraction onscreen again. and feel their acidity right in me.

"do ulta ek seedhe..." payal explains the basic stitch of chikakari to la, as the scene shifts again. two back and one forward. is that how the asr khushi affair will progress, i wonder

akash uses the the newspaper again as a prop to peer at someone. this time it's the one his heart beats for. she also seems to have some feelings. thanks to the ever helpful la, payal steps on a needle and akash leaps to her rescue, carrying her in his arms, alarmed at the sight of blood on her foot. but before this can lead to dhakdhak attack, there's mami assault, and the name "khoon bhari tang" takes birth.
has anyone seen the movie khoon bhari mang that inspired our dear hello hi bye bye? particularly gruesome that was. and somehow the man who threw his devoted wife to hungry crocodiles reminds me of shyam, who made his pregnant loving wife walk on glass then slide electrocuted her to make her miscarry. the level of gore and horror was the same in both cases. or maybe it was more here. were the writers hinting at this all along. i used to hate that khoon bhari tang much more than phatti saree. it kept reminding me of that terrible movie.

anyway, lavanya has kindly made sure that both sisters are with the men meant for them, bless the girl. and khushi is wiggling and wriggling all over the place.

what's up, khushi. seems something in her clothes, she rushes to the public loo right across the road outside the wood. ha ha, in india? ah well, poetic licence. and not, she hands him her dabba very carefully before running off.  

"kar kya rahi hai yeh ladki," what's this girl doing, asks impatient gorgeous man.

creatives play with us. cut to rm. finally akash speaks. wow. he steals bhai's line though... i'm really really sorry, payalji. anjali shows her stern side when she insists payal stay back for tea, despite mami's obvious disapproval. there was steel in anjali too, that might have been used to crush a snake.

"chor chor, hamare kapde leke bhag gaya, chor..." thief! thief! ran away with my clothes, shouts the girl that makes asr wait. 

and a swirl of dupatta, gauzy, orange, colours of sunrise. a face radiant against these shades.

he is hit hard. hey hey, energy ripples across rabba bey... this is instant attraction... desire simmering... like the night of the red saree, now the day of the rising sun.


as the vision approaches shouting "chor chor," he watches... yes there's been a thief around here. who might that be. and what's been stolen.

"woh, asal mein hamare kapde chori ho gaye," woh, actually, my clothes got filched.

"yeh sirf tumhare saath hi ho sakta hai," this can only happen to you. now anger is being used as a recovery tool. from gobsmacked to in command it carries my sweet man.

"haan, pata nahi kyun," yes, don't know why. another incorrigible khushi answer.

then more talk. let's go to that dhaba down the road, the poster was in the loo... "ek punjabi thaali pe ek phone call bilkul phree," for one punjabi thali meal, one phone call free"... he is losing it ... "achha ab dus minute ke liye hum kuch nahin bolenge, pukka" ok, now won't speak for ten minutes, promise. she was silent at the top and now back to it we come. he is staring at her helpless, what do you do with a girl like this, how do you solve a problem like maria?

but the breeze rose just then and blew her dupatta to the ground.

and so much rushed into the moment again.

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