Sunday, 18 September 2016

episode 126 the storm has landed

and once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive, you won't even be sure, whether the storm is really over, but one thing is certain. when you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. that's what this storm's all about."
~~~~ haruki murakami ~~~~

jo tum mehsoos karti ho... jo main mehsoos karta hoon, humari dhadkane ek ho jaati hai. they feel things together... heart beats racing, storms rising... and the emotions are so stirring, they reverberate long after the screen has gone black.

there was a storm, a tempest, in the episode.

and a mehsoos. a feeling, a synchrony of feelings really.

there was the rising gale and thunder of the hour, at the same time an array of reflections, equal and opposites: in visual sequences, in dialogues that kept on building that sense of what he feels is what she feels and vice versa.

with "yeh humari sagai ki angoothi hai," in 124, a hot desert wind seemed to blow in from far away and spiraled into a wild frenzy throwing all in turmoil. a tempest on the ocean, the waters restless, turning, tossing, pitching, rolling, heaving in terrifying waves, crashing on the shore. the shore reflecting the same unrest, shaken, torn, untethered, asunder.

"aur ant mein rajkumar aa jata tha..." and in the end, the prince would come... the sisters sat laughing a bit, yet both lost in private sadness about childhood dreams of rajkumar and happily ever after.

a dormant unrest in the air... then it reached khushi's eyes, she tried to deny that fantasy.

"hume bachpan mein aisi sari kahaniya sach kaise lagti thi, jiji... asli duniya mein sapno ke rajkumar kahan hote hain." why did we believe these stories were true, jiji... in the real world, where are such princes?

and yet the connection had been made. the word "rajkumar" had triggered a face, a man, a man shaking her and yelling at her... how can you be engaged, why don't i know...

a princess had chosen her prince... as if in a swayamvar, the ancient hindu ritual... no matter how many princes good or bad want your hand, you are free to choose the one you want, with just the adorning of a garland. in this case a garland of insults and angry words. from him to her and her to him, in private, only to and for each other.

she has chosen her rajkumar, and it is not the man who gave her a ring.

"asli duniya mein sapno ke rajkumar kahan hote hai..."
and the gust of wind rose to remind her... but this was no ordinary wind, it carried that storm in it...  she recalled him grabbing her, beside himself with gussa...

"yahan pe toh rajkumar gussel insaan hote hain..." here the rajkumar is an angry man. "jinke naak pe har waqt gussa rehta hai..." on whose nose there's always temper (a clumsy literal translation, sorry). she hadn't read a letter from a mother... yet she knew the exact description. two women who understood him instinctively perhaps. khushi had not yet worked out the math entirely, balancing the gussa was the ability to love really big... but something in her seemed to have started getting the hints already. otherwise why would she want him as rajkumar?

a lovely sequence where two sisters talk of their princes charming and the troubles of reaching happily ever after. and in classic ipk cool, delicate writing, neither knows who the other is speaking of. are you talking of shyam ji? no. and you? about abhishek ji?

camera moved and found the reflection scene.

two siblings again in a deep discussion. asr stands staring out of his room, while his sister gets some work done talking about an "alag si bechaini" she's seen in khushi. he is in pretty much the same state as khushi emotionally... storm tossed, bechain (literally: without peace... restless). his mind grapples with the situation, and just as she had hit on the fact that he is her rajkumar, he picks on a central truth... she does not care for her fiance, perhaps he even senses she cares for him.

silently, he listened... little eye movements, understated music, then the cut and thrust of riving violin strings. and words came pouring out of him, unguarded, uncontrolled... diwali night and again now... loss of control.

"bechain hai... khush nahin toh shadi kyun kar rahi hai... aisa faisla liya hi kyun jisse baad mein pachhtana pade... khush nahin hai toh sagai kyun ki.. kisne kaha tha haan kahne ke liye... kissine zabardasti ki thi kya... jisse pyaar nahin karti jisske saath reh nahin sakti, usske saath poori zindagi kaise bitaygi?"

restless she is... if she's not happy why is she marrying... why take  a decision you'll regret later... not happy, then why did she get engaged... who told her to say, yes... no one forced her... how will she spend her whole life with a man she doesn't love?

that wasn't all. he went on to:

"aur main..." and i... 

then he noticed di's face and stopped. what would he have said otherwise... and i... how will i spend my whole life without her? would he have said that?

di is shocked at this tirade... a very odd response. she hasn't seen the sadness, the hopelessness on his face. the voice... and this is the boy whose voice was considered a problem at one time, is indescribably real... he was lost in another world, where his mind was in a whirl.

he realised what he'd been saying...

"chhotey..." as di tried to comfort him, ask what's the matter, he cut in... a little shallow his breathing, a strained look around his nose and lips, he just looked away, separated himself from everything, everyoone, back in his shell, needing protection, he said,

"di, i'm fine... bas kuch der ke liye mujhe akela chhordo." di, i'm fine, just leave me alone for a while.

a wild wind entered frame. he heard his own words echoing... she will marry one she doesn't love... how does he know that? he can feel her... mehsoos, this is about knowing a person viscerally without having to think or even feel, pure instinct.

"there is peace even in the storm."
~~~~ vincent van gogh ~~~~

she stood in her verandah, he in his den. the storm came out in the open and showed itself. turbulence within, howling winds and thunder clap without. classic reflections again. her fiance talked to her, his fiance rambled behind him, but they were both in their own world. each thinking only of the other... with each other.

shyam had the temerity to hold her hand and slip on a bracelet... she was too perturbed to say anything... that cutting of his hand, the roil and agony in him since her angoothi words. she could feel it all... nothing else.

flash back: ''kya hua sab toh tumhare shaadi ke baat se bahut khush lag rahe hain... lekin tum?" what happened, everyone is so happy about your wedding... but you?

shyam is talking away, but it's as though she can't see or hear him, a beautifully executed scene, rich and fascinating in subtext... he talks of date cancelling... and there's clap of thunder. ambient sound segues to a voice in her head, she hears, "tumhari sagai ho gayee... kaise... mujhe faraq padta hai dammit kyunki...!"

and again camera looks for the other side of this picture... there it is. he stands looking out of the windows by the pool as la paces right behind looking for ideas for a honeymoon. he is hearing khushi's words,"aap yeh angoothi nahi pehna sakte... yeh humari sagai ki angoothi hai... aap kya kah rahe hain humey samajh nahi aa raha..." a vulnerability in the voice, yet it seems to hurt him with its implications.

la notices he is far far away. winds race and howl, an omen in them, a feeling of all hell breaking loose. just in the tightly packed pain in his eyes is the message of a world ending.

the next morning, in the hallway a tense meeting... he wants to know what makes her bechain... he is concerned, hates to see her upset.

there's talk of the bracelet given to her by her fiance, of course he overhears and is irritated.

she hears shyam's voice on the phone and is curious about its familiar ring... who could it be? anjali wonders why khsuhi is sad... khushi avoids the question.

and then out of nowhere a face off with asr. the bracelet falls off her wrist, wonder why everything shyam gives just drops off here and there... a neat  cuing of no sense of belonging, no right, no place in her life.

"apni mangetar se kehna agli baar tumhe itna sasta gift na de," tell your fiance not to give you such a cheap gift next time, he says offensively. offense by the way is sometimes the best defence.

some insults are traded as always... that choosing of each other with a very special garland made of barbs and thorns.

"itna yakin hai toh nakhush kyuin lag rahi ho..." if you have such faith in him, why are you looking unhappy? i had the feeling, her downcast face is bothering him, he wants to hurt her a bit but also make her feel better... the classic push me pull you in him in all matters khushi.

"humari baat choriye, mr raizada... par aapka bank balance to achha hai toh aap itna pareshan kyun lagte hain?" let's not talk of me, she retorts sharply, fed up with his nastiness, your bank balance is good so why are you so het up?

ask yourself... "ki aap itne nakhush kyun hain." why you are so unhappy.

and finally, she plays back to him a line he'd said just the evening before. one that had hurt her. how could it not hurt him.

"aur rahi humari baat, hum aapko batade ki hum bahut khush hain..." and as for me, let me tell you, i am very happy.

he was concerned, but her sassiness enraged him... her naak pe gussa rajkumar. and for that claim of being happy, he wanted to hit out at her. happy? without him in her life? how could she? who did she think she was?

he starts a gritted teeth barrage, but it must be curtailed.

had it come out maybe the next hurricane could have been avoided... but in this scenario, nothing to break it... and so his decision to have his engagement ceremony the very next day.

before leaving a stymied audience and tears and worry and tension all around, he stops before his antagoniser, his opponent, his everything, and gives her a long hard look... let's check out who is more "khush."

arnav singh raizada is out to ride this storm and win. not a thought in his head for anyone else... pain has transformed to anger... someone must pay.

a storm song dedicated to the two... girl you gotta love your man... take him by the hand... make him understand.

  credit uploader


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