Thursday, 7 April 2016

episode 361 a woman a mother a sister a wife

"out flew the web and floated wide, the mirror cracked from side to side, the curse is upon me she cried, the lady of shalott."
~~~ lord tennyson ~~~
what a terrible night in anjali's life.

out flew her dreams, her illusions shattered and cracked her inside, the curse was upon her, before her eyes. a curse she had held aloft and above all else, as her life's greatest blessing. she had given him the place of pati parameshwar, her god. and look how he'd turned into a demon right there. "haan, hain hum bure, bahut bure hain hum," yes, i am bad, very bad am i... the demon screamed. and anjali's eyes went numb.

he raved and admitted killing his own child, planning to murder her brother, his willingness to kill any and everybody for the money, the wealth. i wondered what she'd do, would she call back her illusions to create her perfect universe again? then i saw her hand move. 


she went for the jugular. her mangalsutra. flashbacks scrolled: him changing her medicines, scattering glass for her to walk on, her miscarriage. her face scrunched up in disgust, in anger, she seemed to call upon some power hidden deep within. she tugged and tore her mangalsutra.

with one clean movement anjali singh raizada broke her ties with shyam manohar jha and claimed herself back.

it was stunning to witness.

just a string of black beads and gold, so much in it. memories of a tempestuous wedding another night. a man, fire in his eyes, deliberately tying a mangalsutra around his terrified bride's neck. One neat movement and a tie was made that would last a lifetime.

tonight, anjali at last saw in herself what we were shocked to watch her forget. she saw in her a mother. daljeet went deep to unearth anjali's complex set of emotions, thankfully it was led by rage. a rage that burns you bright and taut, the fury of a mother defiled, a wife desecrated.

she was my daughter, my raanisahiba.

don't you dare even speak of her, she is in no way a part of you.

shyam couldn't believe his eyes as his plaything turned into a a powerful opponent. gandhari had taken off the blindfold. enough, shyam, you are not going to dupe her any more. ever again.

anjali's dialogues were crafted well, it allowed her to admit she had been wrong, we heard from shyam how he'd sneak in to meet her, she didn't deny it. and no one judged her either, certainly not her brother, i was proud of him for being above that. for knowing the place of those you love in your life.

this episode reached me more than the 360. it was focused on anjali as it had to be. shyam was not the centre of the scene, he was the instrument i felt, so that we could go into anjali's dilemma and let her make her way back to the circle of love and trust she has for so long misunderstood. the girl who told everyone that they had a "vaham" lived with the most tragic of vahams. a lesson there?

the pain and insanity of it all was consuming her. something had to be done. anjali was never one to take emotional turmoil into herself like khushi and bury it inside. she needed release otherwise it would harm her. i felt terrible for this woman who had made the mistake of loving too much, loving the wrong man.

she chose her outlet. fire.

"jalaa do ise fooq dalo yeh duniya
jalaa do, jalaa do, jalaa do
fooq dalo yeh duniya
mere samne se hata lo yeh duniya"
~~~~ sahir ludhianvi, pyaasa ~~~~

burn it down, this world
burn it, burn it, burn it
blow thsi world down
remove this world from before me

he had killed her child, she made a pyre of all his belongings, his gifts, his memories and poured diesel on it. then threw in a lit match stick. there was no miracle this time, the diesel didn't become water.

yet you could see her slowly burning within, the fire will take a while to die down. i hope the innate strength and stubbornness of anjali which we glimpse at times will assert itself and help her make her world ok again.


she has to do it, he said almost serenely. tonight arnav singh raizada was not going to lose his cool. he who was known for his red hot gussa had ice in his eyes. he knew his duty was with his sister. he had to show her the truth and be there for her when it hit her hard and terrible. he stood at the back and led from there, watching di, observing shyam's every move. he knew he couldn't step in and do this for di.

this was her battle, she had to fight it on her own terms. he worried for her, yet trusted her too, plus his best representative khushi was by her side. hardly any words, very little screen time, yet he is the only image that stays in the mind. the stance, the waiting in the eyes, the striding up to take charge, the running to di now that shyam's gone he can show his worry, the gentlest yet most dependable hug. finally, the keen insight while all looked horrified. let her throw everything into that suitcase and set fire to it. she has to do it.

some say the world will end in fire,
some say ice.
from what i tasted of desire
i hold with those who favour fire.
but if it had to perish twice,
i think i know enough of hate
to say that for destruction ice
is also great
and would suffice.

a robert frost poem, quite a popular one, came to mind.


~ i haven't watched jab we met with any concentration, don't remember the scene everyone is referring to. maybe that's why it worked for me. and i try never to ask things like where did the jerry can of kerosene come from, what will happen to the floor and why is she in a synthetic saree next to the fire? LOL

~ shyam was for me for a short while the day before he was good, but alas.
my heart never quakes with fear at abhaas's acting, it just shuts down, there's so much action and noise. lalit mohan was all praises for him those days... and strangely, never a good word for the male lead's interpretation. which makes the serial what it is.

~ i did think daljeet did a damn good job of further creating anjali singh raizada.

~ beautiful involvement from everyone in the fam. some meaningful lines and role next time please for akash and payalia, creatives.

~ while i'm dying to return to the romancing remarrieds, i would like to see how anjali works with her troubles and gets back. maybe a little less pooja path? little more looking at reality, a la bro.

adapted from a take on crooner.


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