Wednesday, 31 August 2016

episode 331 a touch of your colour

he saw her dori was coming undone...

he played with her, held her in his arms, pulled her in.

"chhoriye, hume chhoriye," she demurred, perhaps thanks to force of habit. they were in a public place virtually and the man in a brown suit looking rather princely was asking her to do things she was so wanting to do willing to do perhaps even waiting to do a la eliza dolittle's father,  yet, how to? ladki you are, sharam you must have... besharmi is the exclusive right of the laad governor.

"really?" he murmurred provocatively. if anyone knew kkg's heart and mind it was possibly this man... only him.

a rabba vey took the moment on a dizzy trip, an intimate possessive moment, bodies intimately nestling against each other.

his hand moved to her hip, just where her lehenga's waistband sat and pushed slightly, turning her around.

his hand reached a place she had no notion it had reached and brushed against her mehendi... and took his share. there is no separation perhaps in this love, no yours and mine... he would not put mehendi he'd said and then decided otherwise... once he'd casually picked her dupatta and rubbed haldi off his face, leaving her marked perhaps, today he wants her to mark him it seemed... something so sensuous and giving in that gesture at once...

maybe it was not there in the idea, but more in the acting... might have been just sensuous otherwise, not such a sexy surrender.

she was losing it in the meanwhile. one of those rare occasions when we'll see khushi come undone at the nearness of this man, his compelling sexuality managing to penetrate her perennial happy sweet girl demeanour... making her feel like a woman, go a little crazy, crave, shiver all over, forget her to do list for a moment, just give in to him.

such a man woman moment and explored with such grace. again i have to wonder at the chemistry that is so touched by light joy gripping excitement absolutely enchanting and absorbing, arousing yet without a single streak of darkness or something sort of sleazy embarrassing it is... never seen this kind of sexually explosive chemistry without a trace of the unwholesome.

it's a rare thing... please smart producer, grab it and use it in your next film, telefilm, whatever.

with absolute concentration, the man who had snapped her dori once, in a secluded room when they were utter strangers, tied her dori slowly, making sure it was secure... shielding her with his body.

something had pulled at him when that dori had come apart and pearls had scattered and a girl had flung her hair over her back to hide her body, looked back at him with tears in her eyes... maybe something in him yearned to set that right every day, in whatever way possible... he wasn't  a brute, an egregious monster, the moment had made him so, for all that had lain torn in him she had touched and yanked hard at... without knowing... without ever meaning to.

the mehendi soothes him perhaps, tells him with its saffron touch, a hurt ends, colour returns... reminded me of the day he had given her a bindi and all the dhakdhak... always a little game a little winning in his moves... 

when she would have walked away he held up his hand, his head down just a little, like a little boy showing what he has done... a plea in his eyes maybe? why did i think of the day he held the payal up and showed her by the poolside... something so very touching in his expressions, then and now... it seemed to say, all of me... take all of me...

a little mark of mehendi sat on his left palm. her mehendi.

she had said no to his embrace earlier, her mehendi might get spoilt... but now she had to run to him and hug him close, happiness in her eyes, her smile, her heart.

were there tears in his eyes...

a chance at happiness for a man who had lost all sense of it when he was  a mere boy.

bit by bit a heart healed and hoped again, tried to believe... but would life leave asr unbroken this time?

unaware though wary of the deceit around him, he danced... giving in to her and nk's persuasion... of course he might have seen danger lurking in his home right before all, but right then an old ipk devise, lights out, came calling and he never saw shyam... neither did dadi see garima... a foolish hide and seek and one whose consequences would be horrific continued.

she is handicapped, she is pregnant... her own husband is going to smite her... a sadness mills around me... what was this, was this even necessary?
a delightful interlude with bua ji and nk had started the episode.

"bahut sarmate ho tum nand kissore..." bua ji had yelled at the quaking nk, you are too shy. he of course couldn't control those visions of bua and he about to tie the knot, she in her fancy white wedding gown...

"abhi se gala sookhne laga beha ke naam pe!" your throat has started getting dry already at the thought of marriage, she teased in her loud bua way... the thought of what is to come in 332 freezes my brain, nk's horror film is about to start.

episode 330 of sahi galat and being human

i am a khadoos type, i rarely cry while watching anything.

i actually felt tears spring up and release as i watched the first few minutes of this episode. a young man, totally bludgeoned by life, trying his best to cope, to be responsible, do what needs to be done... cope, survive... a grandmother who has faced the hardest thing a mother ever will. the death of her child that too by her own hands... a young woman who never understood why life did what it did with her life, now expecting a child, looking happy and hoping her scum of a husband would come by, she loves him that's all... a woman who made a mistake at a very young age overhearing what transpired as a result of that mistake... her daughter will soon marry the boy whose life she may have damaged permanently... life blowing by and human beings trying not to lose their moorings... hold on somehow.

barun sobti was absolutely brilliant in this moment. yes, dadi did bring some good things to the show. and jayshree t, the matriarch, the one who has always tried to keep calm no matter what, dealing with all the undercurrents and explicit rifts. a tender touching moment, when lips that never look anything but sure or devastatingly sexy, suddenly tremble a little, a head turns just a bit... nani... he's just trying to put all of this behind... and a grandmother stroking the tough young man's cheek, for a moment it's okay to be just her child, her little chhotey... and that totally inspired, when does one have the chance at so much happiness at one time.

these are people who have lost... a lot. they know happiness is rare. it can never be taken for granted. they value what happiness comes their way... no wasting of this precious thing. it's a blessing. they have known what it is to rend and rip and not know how the next day will come, how it will be faced. this is an ordinary hindi serial, without any melodrama, to deliver such depth in story, connect with life in the most real unfettered way, despite awful gaudy colours and sets... what to say.

adding on.

as i watch the battle between dadi and grandson, i note they are nothing like each other. opposites really. from different planets. she ungrowing, unevolved, holding defensively onto a position, incapable of anything else.

he evolving constantly, headed for the next, nothing defensive about him. a human being who will grapple with this thing called life with all of himself and face every consequence.

i have seen him warring with his other grandmother but they always seemed hewn from the same rock... she had that thing to evolve in her... always. she had taken a maid servant into her home as a daughter in law and despite her caustic words, loved her dearly, didn't interfere with her freedom to be who she was, however much she may have liked her daughter in law to be somewhat different. she encouraged enterprise, didn't balk at the idea of equal status for men and women, allowed her servants near the puja room, even one of a different faith. and she had a song in her heart. she was a survivor, a doer... one who took her responsibilities seriously, however difficult. 

between the two grandmothers i thought ipk said, there are ways and ways of being buzurg... elder. of believing you are owed respect and your voice matters.

he was happy after so long... allowing his own happiness to matter, wanting his sister to be happy as he always had wanted. after all that has happened at last a chance at it and now dadi says this.

"kya karne ki koshish kar rahin hai aap? dadi, aap uss ghatiya aadmi o iss ghar mein lane ki soch bhi kaise sakti hai!"
what are you trying to do, his voice is tense, bated, anger underlying...  how can you even think of bringing that lowdown man into this house...

"chhotey, shant ho jaiye!"
chhotey, calm down pleads nani, caught between her love for her grandchildren and her duty to an old friend, the one supposedly with more right, the paternal grandmother. an elder who has never taken responsibility and shirked everything is being given the time of day only because she is from the father's side... patriarchy and its ridiculous norms have a field day here.

asr has actually brought this up asking his dadi, where she was when they needed her. yet, sheer upbringing and respect for elders and family makes him explain why he will not go along and will absolutely oppose her.

"main usse di ya unke bachche ki aas pass bhi nahin aane doonga..." i will not let him near di or her baby.

dadi calls shyam anjali's jeevan saathi, her life partner, using the word garima had used a while ago... shyam is apparently anjali's bhavishya, her future. a stodgy scared egregious mind which needs to adhere to social norms and hasn't got what it takes to refuse to take nonsense. she is supposed to love anjali dearly, but she will not love her enough to believe her granddaughter need not live with a philanderer... it's just a small mistake. she has the same attitude to her son's womanising... patriarchal excesses are kept raging and healthy through women such as herself... women who believe they are the lesser gender so must take whatever comes their way. so, yeah, she may look poised and calm and talk with a lot of "hum" and what she will or won't allow but she is a weak irresponsible person. and she is galat. never sahi.
and nani... openly and clearly saying, it's not khushi or payal's fault, it's damad ji's fault. a damad ji she indeed had loved much. but if he is galat, he is galat. bas. no wonder her chhotey feels so much like her. how did a woman who spent years being a cabaret dancer in hindi films, figure devyani raizada out so well and conveyed such a deep convincing impression despite stiff heavy wig and stiffer heavier make up. fabulous acting by jayshree t. here she is struggling to bring order, play peacemaker, yet not take the wrong side.

and i want to loft asr high and dance with him that he did not put up with dadi's nonsense in the name of elder and respect beyond a point.

he set that point. teehee.

and told khushi, no need to put up with this.

i am surprised khushi was shown to be so meek and desperate to get dadi's approval. i can understand her basically not wishing to upset an elder, but the extent to which she was shown to go. again a part of that achchhi bahufication, i guess. good daughters in law never say anything to their elder in laws, no matter how wrong they may be. this is a sign of being a good woman. such women will keep our family, our society in fact, running smoothly. will someone please place dadi on a cliff that i may push her and be a bad woman forever.

and to anyone who says this is to do with khushi's fragile inner being, her being an orphan, her being a lover of tradition, and stuff, i say... i don't agree.

actually, i think khushi would have found a way to tell dadi she was impossible... the hell she has been through and her basic strength of character would have made her tougher, also the now yellingly and lagi shart-ly expressed large giving love from her arnav ji, who says, come take me, exercise your right, huq hai tumhara, pause, thrust lip, mujh pe... oh all this certainly nourishes and strengthens her. i don't think she'd be in a state of quake perpetually at the mere thought of the nasty woman.

"i'm sorry, dadi, lekin aapke iss bat se main sahmat nahin hoon," asr takes a stance and refuses to yield, i am sorry, i don't agree with you, dadi.

every time i hear asr's "main" i feel a strange thrill. a sense of himself in his "i" that feels glorious, an owning of all that he is, and a bold facing of this life as it is. i shall have to quote from a poem that i have not read fully nor really understood but that "main" makes me want to read,

  i bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass i love,
if you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.
you will hardly know who i am or what i mean,
but i shall be good health to you nevertheless,
and filter and fibre your blood.

failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
missing me one place search another,
  i stop somewhere waiting for you.

~~~ the last lines of walt whitman's leaves of grass ~~~

"filter and fibre" my blood... sigh. and i hope i do see him somewhere in someone or many ones, waiting for me.
a sudden vulnerable note in asr's voice, "dadi, try and understand, chauda saal pehle jo hua, usse bhulane mein hme bahut time laga tha... jab hume laga sab theek ho gaya hai tab usne di aur hum sabke saath beimaani ki. he cheated us."

took them years to mend after what happened fourteen years ago, and just when they thought things are getting better, shyam cheated them. you're just healing and along comes another attack on your sense of normalcy, of decency, of goodness. in itself shyam's action is deplorable, but given the situation, it is completely chaos causing... both he and di can spiral out of control, the displacement and breakage caused by shyam's infidelity much more than it might have been if both were not touched by betrayal already.

in a flash i get why he had to be so out of control almost in a whirpool of pain plunging to hell that night. why he was so thrown by that sight on the terrace... he had just been mending. only just. no, he was not shatir that night... just human.

and yes, khushi bore the brunt of his relapse... he of all people knows that well and wants to make up for that act... so this marriage with rituals, which means nothing to him.

before his eyes is a beautiful scene drenched in red.

"aaj... aaj di kitni khush lag rahi hain..."
today, di is looking so happy. and then words which he never would have said just a short while ago... this is the growth of a man touched by love and returning to belief. a brave man who is willing to take those hard steps.

he says, today, we must forget the past and move forward, because the past is not worth remembering.

i feel bad for a young son who saw his mother played with, then her death.

today everyine is happy, i am going to be mama. how poignant...
sheer hope there in a man who had seemed devoid of any. "main mama banne wala hoon..." my mind picks up anjali's voice on a stricken night saying "tum mama banne wale ho..." and again today a strike is ahead.  
di will be mother... and i am getting married... so please... and he ends in classic asr words and style.

"let us be."

garima has overheard this entire conversation and her heart is breaking... he wants to forget. she decides, she must not rake up the past then... we know that is impossible, but i guess human beings try and tell themselves something can be done even if they know it can't, because they want to protect those they love.

"chahe jo bhi ho jaaye" fumes dadi, "hum wahi karenge jo sahi hai!" she'll only do what is right.

sahi galat... right wrong... constant pondering on these in ipk. a feel of a canvas where individuals, humans, are pitted against the huge phenomenon of hurtling life that doesn't observe any traffic rules, it just speeds through taking all with it. some of us get crushed along the way, some hold on and weather the passage. nani and asr refuse to get crushed, standing firm and strong. they do falter at times. he is almost shaken to the point of almost being uprooted and flung to the ground, run over... but he holds on. he also learns to take a hand and allow it to soothe him. ooph beautiful.

almost in tears to his nani he says, "nani, main sirf apna dard... apna dukh.. mamma... unki shadi ki problems...unki death...main bas unhe bhulane ke liye..." 

never have i seen him this tremulous... a boy whose tears got choked and blocked within. with so much hope he comes here today and so is that much more vulnerable i guess.

i was only trying to put my pain... my sorrow... mamma (oh he calls her that like a young one, not maa)... her marriage... her death... i was just trying to forget and for that...

and nani stops him with a hand on his cheek, loving him.

"chhotey," she whispers with a smile through her tears... "aap bilkul theek kahat hai..." what you say is absolutely right.

"aaj aap ke amma babu ji hotey na toh woh bhi yehi chahatey ki aap aapan zindagi aapan tarike se jiye..." if your parents were alive today, they'd want the same, that you should live your life... your way.

"muskuraiye, chhotey, muskuraiye," smile, chhotey, smile.

you are getting married, you are going to be an uncle... "itti sari khushi kahan milat hai ek saath?" where can one get so much happiness at once, says the one who has been oft visited by complete sorrow.

grandmother and grandson look toward the scene of happiness. a moment of triumph i feel.

i know he will not succeed in saving that smiling girl's baby, nor in keeping shyam out thanks to his other "important" person, actually the most important one she has become. and she will act against his wishes and bring shyam back.

but still i sense triumph in the character, in his fearlessness, in his sense of sahi. some day, his di will have a child i feel sure, and shyam will be vanquished i know. yes, there is life and its preponderance maybe, but even life or fate if you like to call it that, is admiring of a brave clean human. in its own way it will relent, because his intentions were pure, clean. when he hurt khushi so terribly, he perhaps wrote into his own story the failure of his mission... but because he did what he did without malice, only in pain and with a sense of duty, i get the feeling life will not disappoint him.

asr has set up security check.. and shyam must find a clever way to get in, so we have heavy duty of lawyer damad ji, now as drummer. would have been funny, if it did not lead to the macabre.

shyam is the shastra spewing, pure hindi prone, always respectful of elders, "good" boy... and asr the baddie. that is, in our world. gosh, asr even is an atheist, and shyam so god fearing.

yet who is the real man here... and who the real cretin. who has faith, who doesn't. who respects elders, who shams. who loves, who lusts. funny twist, they even made asr play the drums later. what is with the writer and drums? or is he remembering the nataraj and his dumaru, whose sound is that of creation.

i know that is not the case, yet, ipk keeps taking me to these larger than life images.

shyam notices her shoes are off.

asr mutters, "yeh mera ghar hai," this is my home, i don't have to take anyone's permission to go anywhere.

nk recalling akash's mehendi tries to pull him back.

nani takes a step forward again and says, this time mehendi shall be open to the boys (if she hadn't, fandom would have hired assassins to get her, being a wise woman, she relents and gains our undying love, shatir nani).

"great!" grates mills and boons man after stunning me in tragic hero mode. shatir arnav ji.

"dadi ji, you rock!" says nk, choosing english wisely.

"everybody loves bhai!" akash quips, maybe akshay's slight envy seeping out.

shyam does his thing in anjali's room... he had left stuff under the bed... huh?

glass shards. check. mean look check.  inordinate accent on this character of late. what is happening? is the director sensing rightly shyam needs to be impactful.. balanced against asr... yet story makes him so silly. shyam was never a real antagonist of asr, he might have been if the writing took him to that place, but gradually, he just became a melodramatic caricature and that too of  half men, a little man. yet, sadly i guess in life these little men trip up the giants. perhaps because the deep big sincere clean ones have no idea of the depths such men of no conscience, no content, stoop to.

"attensson pilleejh all oph youj, ab godh bharai ki hui bye bye aur mehendi ko hello hi," hollers my sweet mano.

anjali recognises her shyam ji. or so she thinks.

and what does your name begin with, you wonderful man in crazy jodhpur and bandgala looking regal? 

lg for laad governor, but of course.

"oh i forgot tumhare naam mein bhi a hai na? khushi kumaaari guptaa--aa..." i forgot, your name has an a in it too, doesn't it... quips m&b hero and instantly heroine is puddle recalling a scene. uh huh, this rasam also they've been through already. check.

hey hey.


episode 52 chutney date

it's not easy being a serial writer. even if there's a whole team of you taking care of different things. to come up with a plot movement, plus dialogues, and the design of it all every single day, that's some task.
and then the lovers.

to device a meeting of the two, again and again, without getting into a rut. an absolute challenge. we're on the fifty second day of the serial. from day one these two have met. every day we see them coming upon each other in different ways, with all sorts of little nuances added, story grown, attraction taking hold. somewhere along the way, rabba vey has entered the scene, the breeze, even the awareness of each other. flashbacks have become a trusted technique to connect dots, "show" feelings. and they've moved from being perfect strangers from two different worlds who clash at first sight to this. where the thought of not being in each other's sight is causing palpable pain or complete misery and confusion, depending on whose side of the story you're watching.

we've just seen a plethora of flashbacks as asr looked at the locked door over 50 and 51. finally, khushi's confusion has cleared and she has taken dm's "ishara" to come back, not leave delhi.

jai davi maa mishtanna bhandar is coming up around some really cute scenes hinging on a bizarre business plan. of course, i've suspended all disbelief, since i'm really keen to see how the lovers will get together again. and of course, sanaya irani, abha parmar, deepali pansare are fine actors who can bring a loveliness to practically anything, the writers have gone all the way to cooky without holding back, yet somehow it's working, happy ji adding the cutest footnotes to the scenes.

just one conundrum, how should the two meet in this scenario? why, it's a sweet shop, they'll meet here, of course. and since the man is a diabetic, he can't partake of the sweets, but what's to stop him from getting some kachoris. with a slosh of chutney for good measure?

the most ingenious meeting of two love birds i think i've ever seen. writers deserve an applause, a standing ovation for that. it shall be theirs once i stop rolling on the floor laughing. the front page tycoon and the ticked off maithaiwali, met for a hot date...  here take some more chutney, you!!! said the smitten sweetheart. he looked implacable though and kept eye contact right through.

sanaya was utterly awfully madly nutty. and did you see how well barun acted?

this was my high point in the episode. enjoyed the rest of story telling. naturally, poor la bungled big time. poor mami said, "
hum toh samjhe the ki ekdam rajdhani express hai par ee toh nikli payssenger tirain," i'd thought it was an express train, turned out to be a real slow one. nani was too sharp for the super duo. the cinnamon added just the right flavour to malai kofta but completely spoiled the taste of the meal. the girl who would rather get the servants to cook and was willing to try, couldn't bear it all no more. she stormed off. her irate boy friend followed. but only after a flare of his famous temper, "nani, ab sach mein bahut ho gaya," nani, now that's really enough. face stony, eyes simmering, fire wanting to burst out of every pore.

and before i go, just one other thought. khushi and co's success at getting customers reminds me of mine when i attempted to sell lovely hand made things from india in a "muhalla" that was supposed to have plenty ready customers: my daughter's school fair. bua ji's desperation echoed mine, khushi's joy at making even one sale, certainly i've been there. and did you see the face of the first one the three ladies swooped down upon? was he the one who months later would try to attack khushi on a lonely road, and get her karate moves? her mithais or her chops, what's your choice?

now all is in the hands of the one and the only. and she did a mighty good job of showing the writers the way today. jai devi maiyya.



episode 51 khushi comes back

if just to say "ghar chalte hai," a guy looks this good, then what are we to do.
episode 51

"there is a space between man's imagination and man's attainment that may only be traversed by his longing"
~~~ kahlil gibran ~~~

he turns and looks at the door
one last time i'll look at you
rabba vey unwinds gently and eases into frame

when the most expressive pair of eyes long for someone with stirring eloquence, it's hard to think of anything else. to not feel all the things this torn young man must be feeling, unprepared as he was for emotions of this proportion.

then a question came knocking. and though i tried to lock the door and refused to let it find me, it persisted. i have felt most uncomfortable watching the scenes of asr being paralleled with shyam's in the matter of khushi. while one's emotions have felt beautiful and right, the other one's completely illicit, even obscene.

yet, both men had women in their lives. not just shyam. had asr not brought lavanya and it was just a casual fling between two people who belonged to the same world, it would be one thing, but now it wasn't that. thanks to his confrontation with his grandmother over choices and the individual's right to live the way he or she wants to, he now had brought la home. the complexion of there relationship had changed. it was as close to permanence as two people, who expressly did not believe in marriage, could take their relationship. she trusted him. she read some sort of commitment in this act of his.

and yet, his thoughts were wrapped like a stubborn dupatta around another girl, flying to her at the sight or sound of anything. why did this feel right and not what shyam was doing?

i guess it was to do with the response of the two men to the situation they found themselves in. while shyam never tried, not even once, to fight the attraction he felt, asr did everything he could not to think of her. not only because of la, because of himself, and his stated idea of there being no space for love in his life.

till the very end, he tried to deny the claim her thoughts made on him. he fought hard, very hard. he tried to be fair to la, he almost convinced himself, but finally la saw the thing for what it was.

he admitted then perhaps he'd never really been fair to la. and in their interaction was a respect for each other, a pain, that made you feel, this is the inexplicable grip of human relations that we do often find ourselves in. we may want it all to be cut and dried but matters of the  heart rarely are. the essential question is how do we deal with the difficult questions.

which is where character comes in, i guess. shyam unfortunately, was made of weak and dark and ugly things. while asr of stuff more noble, more clear and strong.

even after la left, it wasn't as though asr immediately chased his feelings for khushi, he just kept trying to ignore them, till he absolutely couldn't and had to say, he would tell her that day, "faraq kyun padta hai."

shyam wouldn't understand the finer points of such a struggle, nor why you must search for the right path, for him always the easy way out.
a huge difference in the way he defined living life his way and the way asr defined the same thing. as far as shyam is concerned, this constitutes getting everything he wants, no matter what happens to others. to asr, it is getting to live the way he wants to, without interfering with the way others want to live their lives.

and so it was that i got lost looking at a man completely tossed by the absence of a woman who said she was going "hamesha ke liye." how out of it all his air when di finds him, and that caught unawares look in the eyes, the slightly unrooted feel, how does an actor get the perfect nuance of a moment as hard to describe as that. no over acting, no under acting, there was a man standing immersed in another world, and his sister walked in on him.

a pause. someone should learn from this young man how to make utterly ordinary things sound fabulous. "kuch nahin... chale," oh the distracted air in the voice. "jija ji yahan kya kar rahe honge...," a grainy rasp in the voice... "di, let's go!" er, how does one not get stuck here?

so many times it looked like she would walk in on the truth regarding her husband. as at this very moment. but again the hide and seek with shyam's truth continued. what started with a  suspicious frown ended on a smiling, indulgent, "aap bhi na..." shyam again made use of his extreme ease with lying and got his saale saab and raani sahiba exactly where he wanted them.

but shyam wasn't the only one with a penchant for the non-truth here. far away in a car, another liar fretted. again a question, why did khushi lie about leaving town? the answer can go so many ways, in literature class this could well end up being the favourite of examiners, if not for anything just to see how imaginative the students were capable of being.

my easy answer: she was feeling, just like him, things unfamiliar, things too powerful, and things she neither knew what to call, nor wanted. too complicated. a young girl from a sheltered middle class home, her head already filled with several set notions of what's love, marriage, duty, etc., and what a "good" man was all about, was certainly not prepared for the things she was feeling. why was she constantly thinking of the rakshas, why wasn't she happy at the thought of never seeing him? and then in that hot and bothered storeroom, everything possibly came to a head. not just her heart, her desire possibly spoke and said things that terrified her.

so she had to find a way to shut it all out. and without thinking, just wanting to hit back at the one who caused this unplanned madness, she lied. to hurt him back. the canny thing in us always knows to whom we matter and to whom we don't. she knew her declaration would bother him, badly, not make him "khush." i'd have loved to hear her say some day, she knew even then they had a weird thing for each other, and tell him how much it had bothered her to even consider leaving delhi.

thankfully, the jalebis saved the day, and back khushi turned, to walk right back toward her rakshas, this time with a lovely rational excuse. they will run a sweet shop from bediji's empty space adjoining the garage. by dropping the chunari on her that morning, this is what devi maiya was hinting at. not to leave delhi.

asr held the chunari handed to him by di and remembered a girl in a storeroom, saving her dm, falling on her, her thoughts plagued him. shyam took the piece of cloth from his hand and tied it on the mirror. but by then what the chunari had to tie it already had. a girl who was an expert maker of sweets and a diabetic who'd be totally bowled over by her sweetness.

again i wonder, what if there were no dm to organise the proceedings and push the two stubborn ones toward each other? wouldn't love find its way anyway? are we capable of finding the right path through right thought and action on our own, or is life/the eternal's interference an axiomatic truth and requirement?

too many questions today. behaving like la in the kitchen. so cute, so clueless.

and here's a log of the most clued up one's dialogwas this episode for your enjoyment. nebher phere bhen mami's here.

ee cookerwa bhi sasuma se poochke siti bajaayga ka?

will this cooker whistle only after asking ma in law?

ari o miss teep taap kassyap...

oh miss tip top kassyap.

ee pyaaj kati ho ki pyaajaaa

have you sliced onions or slashed them (loosely translated)

hamri akhiyan ke kaajal se hote hain sab ghayal... dekho kaise chhum chhum bajti, dekho humri payal...

the kohl in my eyes breaks many a heart, now see how prettily my anklets (payal) ring... there was a playful hint by the dialogue guys about the payal that would ring quite a bell in her life.

hello hi bye bye... arre aise isspoon se karogi toh rotiyan humre goldeyn jublee par banee.

hello hi bye bye, if you use a spoon to do that, then the dough will be ready on my golden jubilee.

arre kaanstipessan baad mein, pehle kaam.

not constiptaion, first work.

haan miss teep taap kassyap, tum singal pees ho.

yes, miss tiptop kassyap, you're a single piece.

how elated a girl who was ready to leave was at the plan she'd cooked up to stay back.

remember how sad she was when leaving seemed inevitable? and still she believes she wants to have nothing to do with him... hai re nand kissore.

and here was a man looking back yet again, next to him the one who never had any right to, but had no sense of wrong.

finally, a cap i couldn't resist. some day asr will take of those glasses that clouded his vision. this one, if we needed an excuse :) , is in anticipation of that.



Monday, 29 August 2016

restless and close to a precious feeling

couldn't sleep. restless as h. thought might as well watch some ipk... actually, wanted to watch the drive after diwali, and once i started, i couldn't stop. now at 116... when i watch i wait subconsciously i think to reach that point when my heart will feel the graze, then the tug... and my eyes get that fixed stare. i wonder would this feeling just go away one day, like so many feelings do... especially those crushes in school... and if you're made like me, even much later. but for now there is that pressure on the chambers of the heart, a pull at the gut. i don't know if this happens to you. everything is so physical yet not... khushi!... aur yeh bhi yaad rakhna ki main apni kismat khud likhta hoon... wahi karta hoon jo meri marzi hoti hai... lekin jis din aapko yeh pata chalega na, uss din wahan hum nahin honge...uss din kya... aaj se... in fact, issi pal se meri zindagi se nikal jao... na tumhari shakal dekhni hai, na tumse koi baat karni hai... aur yeh definitely mere haath mein hai, khushi kumari gupta...


khushi!... and remember this, i write my own kismet... i do what i please... but the day you realise this, that day i won't be there... why that day... from today... in fact, from this moment, get out of my life... neither will i see your face, nor will i to speak to you... and this is definitely in my hands, khushi kumari gupta...