Sunday, 31 January 2016

episode 95 whither thou goest ~ (vm: a man and his cazy girl)







no one can tell me,
nobody knows,
where the wind comes from,
where the wind goes.

it's flying from somewhere
as fast as it can,
i couldn't keep up with it,
not if i ran.
~~~ a. a. milne, wind on the hill ~~~


the wind rose, lifting the light shimmering dupatta with it, and the borrowed covering fell; leaving her quite bare, her upper body suddenly only in a small blouse and nothing else. she was mortified, he  awkward, shocked, by now he knew how she felt about such a thing.

the most riveting moments for me in this episode were these first ones. the immense beauty and significance of just one interlude... i have watched this scene repeatedly to find all that i couldn't clearly read yet felt was there. every time it has glimmered with its loveliness.



i didn't count the seconds or minutes, but i felt something timeless here, as i had in that one long look in the guest house on the night of the storm. after he plucked her out of the dangerous corner and headed out, for a second they were separated, he turned and looked straight into her eyes, the wind was there too, gushing wildly, lifting her hair, scattering feelings and sensations. there was a moment then as they just stood staring at each other when i felt something elemental, eternal.

similarly, here.



her life in that instance, her sense of self respect, here. her abroo (is that what i am looking for?), the respect and honour of her body as important as that of her soul, her spirit. he will be there taking it on as his responsibility. as long as he is there, no one can mess with her life or her respect seems to be in these moments somehow. and so very poignant his own handling of himself at this strange juncture.

a hellish day it's been, the road to nainital filled with surprises he could do without, they are just out of a jungle, on a highway, no idea where to head next, she goes into the washroom, and her clothes are swiped by a girl eloping, of all the... she emerges in beautiful bridal gear from a dilapidated public toilet, just as they are trying to make sense of the whole thing... this.

which man in this situation would be as delicately sensitive as the khadoos rude nasty laad governor asr was.

yes, he will misunderstand. yes, he will be brutal. to her, to himself. yet, somewhere always, arnav singh raizada will hold himself to be the one to protect her honour, her life. contradictory his dragging of her to the temple one day might seem, his harsh words, his throwing her out of the room, all of it, but because of this that we have seen, we'll know how much it agonises him, we may even understand why he did what he did. i at least, did.

her hand went up instinctively and touched the side of a her neck, a classic gesture, a girl embarrassed, feeling naked. she stepped back, turned away as he stood still, the wind rising the only sound...

he looked at her back and she seemed to feel his gaze, as rabba vey entered the sound scape, an awkward half turn.

he felt her tense embarrassment. khushi doesn't like to expose her body, her beauty, she contains her desirable physical side in, she doesn't believe it is for all eyes to devour. she's not demure or coy, this is her choice. and that dupatta on the floor she can't pick up because she just doesn't want anyone to see her without her covering. certainly not a man, not asr.



the minute the dupatta deserted her, he saw her startled, troubled look, and figured exactly what to read in it. his gaze moved away from her entirely. the seconds ticked and the murmuring of extreme awkwardness and embarrassment grew. then, seeing that she wasn't doing a thing, he picked up the dupatta finally, and with absolute respect, averting his eyes, held it out to her, as he had in that hot and bothered store room one sunday.

the sexiest innate decency in one; and the most endearing sense of one's own self in the other.



she took the dupatta after ascertaining he wasn't looking at her. or maybe she was touched by this simple act of consideration, of his knowing her.

at a time when it is considered almost necessary to flaunt your body as a  mark of independence, here's a truly independent minded girl who knows what she wants to do with her body. (perhaps that's why, i was a bit rattled to see creatives opt for a bare all look for mehendi, if trp was driving such a choice, shame on them. khushi doesn't need to show navel to be adorable or sexy. she is sexy sometimes precisely because she doesn't. instead she wears crazy pom poms and drives a fashion man nuts.)

after handing her the dupatta, he does the most unexpected and sweet thing. he goes a step further from her then and turns completely away from her, creating the privacy for her to wear her veil. even she can't quite believe how considerate he is being. not a word, just doing what he believes he needs to do... for her. a trait of the man perhaps, a remarkable one.




months later in a darkened hut, as his desire inflamed for her and he wanted to watch her change, he'd again turn down a lamp, save her, protect her, not let anything taint her respect, not even his own gaze. it was always up to her, even after they both knew how much they loved each other.

goons arrive.

the gentlest, "chale?" he seems to sense her unsettled state of mind, her clothes have disappeared, now this extremely difficult  intimacy that is swirling in like the mist, yet neither knows its name, just a girl and a boy and a road to some unknown place.

couple of things from the dhaba.

a thin girl's lunch order:
uuuh kadai paneer, tadke wali daal,
sarson ka saag,
uuh
laisoon aur dhaniye ki chatni,
mmm haanh jeere wali chawal,
naan, aur haanh makhan wala naan...

she would have ordered more perhaps.

a macho man's lunch:
ek mineral water.

she is climbing higher and higher on table, stool, whatever to catch the signal or so creatives have written, to create a situation where she can fall into his arms. she does too. but the cutest thing here was the irritation/ugh/confusion/tenderness combine that barun sobti's asr expressed. along with a smile bringing, "pata nahin main iss ladki ke saath yahan kar kya raha hoon...khushi neeche utro." don't know what i'm doing here with this girl... get down, khushi!!

really arnav ji, won't you ever call the girl you've eloped with khushi ji? and if the large mrs suri in garish red with gota edging and ingratiating questions is giving you nightmares, my sympathies with you, i am finding her and her noisy garrulous dhaba a bit of a nahiiin too. i wouldn't ever want to meet her if i were trying to elope quietly. but then you're not trying to do that anyway, right? but then, arnav ji, how come the girl is in bridal... ok ok sorry, no no, i get your point, you must fly into a rage soon and i must get all face palmy.

but before that, a cute lassi mustache (what's it with ipk and its mustache fixation), you did look rather cute, so i had to make an ad reminiscent of the most famous mucchhad campaign ever. seen the milk mustache ads? been around since 1993.

here are some super heroes with their milk mush.




here's your very own ad, our dear super hero you and your hatke lassi mustache.


all sorts of things are happening, there's dhol and bhangra on the way, khushi has been too khushi and just announced she let the petrol out... just the way happy ji taught her. whaaat? impossible girl, too much "chhoot" has been given to her you say. "chhoot?" she is not a child or animal being trained that such a word should apply, but never mind. she understands, you are hungry, you fainted just this morning, you're tired, you must eat. she is really feeling worried for you, you know. but you're going to storm out of the place, you are gussa again, and we know what gussa does to you. she tries to push you into changing your mind. whaaat? "main ja raha hoon, yeh jagah tumhare liye bilkul perfect hai, yahan ke log tumhari tarah bilkul paagal hain, khushi kumari gupta." i am going, this place is perfect for you. the people here are as mad as you, kkg.

"rukiye, par aap jaynge kaise, aapki gadi toh band padi hai," stop, how will you go, your car isn't working.

"meri fikar karna band karo," stop worrying about me... "tumhe usse kya," what difference does it make to you. clenched teeth, i am having breathing trouble.

"hume toh sochna hi padega kyunki gusse mein aap dimaag lagana band kar dete hain," i have to think, because when you're angry you stop using your brain. the girl understands him perfectly. as he her. yet that misunderstanding... what a tale.

your phone isn't working, nor car, strike on, you haven't eaten anything since the morning, where will you go?  nahin, i won't let you go.

"tum rokogi mujhe?" you'll stop me? er can you not look quite so you know...

"haan... warna hum..." yes, otherwise i'll... khushi is all determination and battily cute, some combination that.

"warna?" incredible eyebrow lift, just a litttle bit.

he stalks off and she steals my line... "nahiiin." nooo.

but honestly, all that registered with me this episode: opening scene...

and two words from mills and boon, never thought i'd see them, maybe i got the meaning wrong, but that's what they seemed to be...



tawny eyes.


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


  
do take a look at this vm: 








......................
fanfiction



no copyright infringement is intended. this is a fan appreciation video and has no commercial purpose. all visuals and audio belong to original owners.










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