Wednesday, 3 February 2016

306 first take

much ado about nothing?

strangely enough, that resonated, priya.

i am fairly certain i don't need another wedding for them; in fact, seems a bit unromantic if anything. a huge fussy wedding between cool and jhalli. they need hatke stuff if any more nuptials are required. bet man in black won't let it happen any other way, specially if you consider his current wooing technique.

good morning and good too see crooner 1.9, priya. i was delighted yesterday when he asked her, "what's the matter?" and she said, "nothing." remember that one from crooner? oooh that's such an adorable utterly man woman thing. and you only say it to a man you've come to accept as your own, what say.

will wait for your post and update here later. me happy happy today.

adding on. 

when bua ji asked if everything was ok and he stopped in his tracks, pausing for a long moment, with unbelievably a hint of hopelessness in his eyes and said in a low tone a flat "shayad," i felt a sadness making its way within me.

the mind is a funny animal, i instantly recalled in school this guy used to say, when a woman says, "no" she means "yes", when a woman says "maybe", she means "no". today i thought i heard that "no" in a man's "shayad".

he looked tired, confused. the usual swagger missing completely. i had never really seen him like this. the day both the women left him alone, he still had resolve in him, and he acted immediately to make things ok; brave, confident, karta that he is. but this was a different pain, one he hadn't felt before.

he had tried so hard since that fight that night. everything he could, sweetness, light, food, gifts, happy birthday declaration, flirting, old moments, flower bedecked path, whatever he could think of. he'd even taken nk's advice! he was gentle, tender, understanding, as much as he could be, trying to keep a grip on that temper, his best friend; to a point where we were clamouring for him to go to work, be more asr. but for her, anything.

then she left to go to bua ji's and he'd made four trips to see her on the same day. he just wanted her so badly. he loved her so much and longed to hear she'd accepted him as her husband.

but now she'd told him to go away. after telling him she didn't want him to pay bua ji's rent, no favours please. he was shocked, he thought he had a right to worry about her family. after apologising to him for lying, she'd said she just needed to get away, for this that and a bit of change. when he asked so lovingly why didn't she at least try telling him this. instead of tea, she threw a memory at him. remember how you were on my birthday? his face fell. go away, she said, everything will be fine after 13 days.

he was perplexed. what was this now. there were no explanations, she insisted he leave.

even at the last minute he tried, he came back in and said, i'm with you, tell me what's wrong. and she said, nothing; as women have said to the man they love for centuries. only and always when everything is wrong.

two beautiful lovers at such a strange crossroads. how will they reach each other.

soon enough i saw the effect of this separation on khushi. five minutes to twelve she'd lain silent, unyielding, to his poignant overture of love on her birthday. five minutes after twelve she sat forlorn and said to devi maiyya, one more day gone. just 12 days and i won't be his patni anymore. sadness, tears, panic almost in her eyes. won't her saansey stop if she should cease to be what she is essentially? his wife.

some loves change us. they demand we mend our ways, bend backward, show how much we love if we say we do. and some loves set us free. they let us be, let us breathe, they know we aren't perfect, but yet that feels perfect, they delight in us being us. they get us instinctively, they know when we are we and when we are not.

maybe khushi could sense he was trying too hard, maybe she didn't really want him to be who he was not. how thrilled she was when he played his prescription for kiss trick, and delighted at his ramanchi kiss, his i never lose a shart. she actually had to tell herself to focus. funny girl. look at her dream, he is all asr, chucking money at her, laughing at her meanly, oh how she loves him just like that just so bad boy.

thank the almighty for grandmothers. finally he realised why she'd left home. at last he had a clearer goal, past that confusion, realising the meaning of "nothing". and thankfully this time he decided that only one man could handle this challenge. raizada, my name is arnav singh raizada.

goodbye sweetness, hello sexy. welcome back.

and gosh, what have you done to your smile? thud. go away, got to write.

he is back, peremptory, unsympathetic, imperious, mocking, and in black. she's mad at him again, stomping into his office gorgeous in flaming red. demanding he explain his reason for withdrawing the cheque she'd categorically refused, snatching his phone from his hand when he talks to someone while she yells, making it quite clear without knowing that she has this huq... on him.

all their familiar storm and thunder music is on. "if music be the food of love, play on. give me excess of it..." from what else, twelfth night.

he has, as mami ji said, "one two," 12 days. this time it will all go as he thinks it will, well almost all for he has been true to himself and "it shall follow as the night the day," as polonius said to laertes in hamlet, if memory serves me right.

for me the epiphany at the the end: can't bear to see asr in "shayad" frame of mind. howard roark laughed. arnav singh raizada smiled. o yes.


 a few thoughts.

this is one of the most beautiful episodes ever in words, action, thought. i could right a song on that stepping back by her out of his hold on her shoulders, leaving his arms empty, still, surprised, yawning nothing he holds on to while she stands stiff, downcast.

anjali is either cheating and meeting snake on the sly or going a bit crazy, either way, trouble. no prob, bring it on.
the week has been full of hints and things, eager to see what it's all about. as long as you tell me a story well i don't fear the monsters in it.

bua ji's dukhbhari dastaan snores, then mami ji's filled with what? kind of like our lal chhadi, something about her, there's a sense of right and wrong i can't not like. so cute that call to payal, i'm scared of ghosts and have been in mami ji's state many times.

priya, the second part of that howard roark confession that's what i want for our lovers, wedding or no wedding. for that is the physical manifestation of real love, love that laughs at the boundaries of time and space.



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