Sunday, 4 December 2016

episode 160 love and war





i am so wanting to write 160, but sleep calls, will be back here tomorrow morning... an edit highly influenced by my pink and orange mood and farha's (omoraboti) beautiful edit. did this man ever think he had a chance?

"leto, maharani."

lie down, empress.

bua ji fussed over her jumpy niece, who'd just called her arnav ji. that "maharani" so reminded me of my mom, the colloquial
style of speaking... so real and just right, the dialogue writers of ipk never failed, did they. even when everything went off key, the actors and the dialogue guys stayed true and talented.

i watched the two of them... he struggling under a blanket, a rather large mound... slightly too big for payal, but bua ji is oblivious. below the covers, darting eyes, irritated expression, gussa asr, the moment he gets a chance he's going to give it to her.

and then there's khushi, clinging to the edge, looking worriedly at the inert mountain of blanket behind, somehow managing to close her eyes, but before that a desperate plea to the aunt who stands like a mountain before her, equally inexorable. between a rock and a hard place, our jhalli.

"bua ji?"

"ka hai, titaliya?"
what, my butterfly? oh poor butterfly how she wishes she could fly away far far away from here.

"yeh sab karne ke baad aap so jaayengi na?" after doing all this you'll go to sleep, won't you? khushi was so desperate and funny at that moment. sanaya at her best in these episodes. beautiful not because of her make up, dress, or features, but because she was so so in character.

a character not too easy to portray. overact a bit and it becomes tinny and campy, too chirpy or too good, loud and flat. underact, and the sanka doesn't touch your heart your gut. sanaya held the balance with such amazing skill and elegance.

but most important here, perhaps, this is the first time they are in the same bed together. lying next to each other. no matter what the circumstances, there's something erotic here. in fact, the situation makes it so really. he is trapped in her bed. a third person hovers around. chances of discovery high. then she is lying next to him and... this is strangely dhak dhak giving.

he gets out from under the blanket ready to yell, then sees her lying there, innocent face, that errant bang on forehead, a mercurial change of expression... only barun can deliver this with such ease, so convincing and delightful... from angry and in control to slightly gobsmacked, yet asr all the way through, never a callow youth.



and rabba vey comes in trilling and teasing.

the lightest breeze plays with his hair... rabba vey rises and fills the air... he's helpless before a desire he can't fight... "khushi yeh tumne mere saath kya kar diya" playing out again and again, wearing down his barriers, his fort faraq nahin padta. this man never meant it to be what it became... but then that's what was meant to be.

the man never had a chance, did he? of resisting this fluttering, floating, enticing, curiously exotic titaliya.

oh, he had to touch her, had to push the bang back...

she, of course, was cute as hell in her freaked out state... and had to open her eyes just when he'd almost done what he felt so compelled to do.

she leapt up at the sight of his hand... and an awkward silence... strains of their music still in the air.

offence again a handy defence.

"kya zaroorat thi mere saamne aane ki..." asr rough and angry, what was the need to come before me.

"mera naya saal barbaad kar diya..." ruined my new year. so he believes in this thing? as akash would remind him later, he doesn't really subscribe to such ideas... to which his response, it's the losing to her that's getting to him... really?
pronto, the butterfly stings like  abee. "hum! hum aapke saamne aaye... badi jyotshi banke bhavishya vani kar rahe the..." i? i came before you, you were being the great astrologer and predicting the future...

khushi takes off, angry funny, fighting rakshas back...

don't think you've won, he threatens. lovely writing, a neat set up to take us to talk of winning and losing and on to sangeet competition and, can't breathe... man in black.

she points back a finger at him... won't think... no need to think... because i have won.

8 and 14... every now and then how they seamlessly move to being kids around each other. playmates. smarty pants boy and irritating girl with a plat which he is dying to pull. she seems to release the child in him, the one he shut away in the aftermath of tragedy, growing up overnight, becoming the "man" of the house. yet, her irrepressible child seems to touch something in him, make him drop his guard. he brings out the woman in her, she the child in him... a many faceted relationship... this must be love.

"just shut up, ok..." he yells. (ok, and may i die before that too, my mind replies.)

she's urgent in her "shh." some more buaji and her questions cannot be faced.

and then her dress is caught in his watch... this urge of all sorts of inanimate things around them to get together... all the time. we pass on our energies to everything on us, don't we? some sort of communication going on at an unspoken level? her earring wants to get stuck on his lapel. her dupatta wants to touch his face or hang on to his cuff link, his watch wants to get entangled with her shiny, chamkili border. unstated wish at play it seems to me, a burgeoning seething desire...



but he is in no mood to read signs, everything in him says "fight," his instincts know he's in danger...

and so the mean boy says, "jeetne wale ki shakal aisi nahin hoti..." winners don't look like this... pointing to her ripped kameez... low one, mr high handed raizada. "tum haar gayi, khushi kumari gupta, have a good year." you've lost, kkg, have a good year... i wanted to hit him and hug him at the same time, bet khushi did too.

and like a leitmotif in the song of asr khushi, an advance retreat before he turns around smartly and leaves... (dammit, a paper can be devoted to barun's palats and swivel arounds while doing that phd on ipk.)

in the car driving back with akash, the sliver of gota on his watch is noticed by akash... and the guy's had it.

"dammit... itna kuch sunane ke baad main aisa hone kaise de sakta hoon." dammit, after saying all i did to her, how could i let this happen, then he turns on akash... "yeh sab tumhari vajah se hua hai." this is all because of you!

he doesn't believe in such things... but it irks him that that kkg will think she's won. he repeats with more vehemence, "sab tumhari vajah se..." akash has that helpless yet quizzical air, maybe he's getting the drift...?

miss gupta... sorry, "hum khushi kumari gupta" is all set on declaring war. "jeet" shall be hers. how could that miserable boy call her loser... she'll show him.

payal's "inteqam ki aag agar sulagh jaaye na..." if the fire of revenge abates get to sleep, is hilarious. only fam members know how hard it is to live with a filmi butterfly. drama queen is eating jalebi planning decimation of rakshas. "iss phate gote ki kassam..." i mean, khushi... really.

so she hates him and he thinks she's a pest, so why does it bother him where nk was that evening.

starting with nk's entry, episode 148, a great bromance is coming along nicely. nannav, akash, nk a potent combination loaded with jibes, pokes, rivalry, camaraderie, a certain dilli coolness, and loads of male sensuality. every woman watching, 6 to 106 would be enamoured... almost not miss the girls. poor sanaya, to take this on, teehee.

have to say at times they had me grinning even more than joey, ross, chandler. and of course, only here did my heart do crazy cartwheels, getting caught in watches, voices, palats and other sundry things.

"yeah? guess aaj nk kahan tha? " yeah? guess where nk was tonight... gah, that's really got him... nk at khushi's place with flowers.

nk with rose, a la the receptionist at sheesh mahal, episode 1, is asking for "sabun." hyuk, soap. present the soap (instead of saboot, proof)... good one, writers.

"kyun gaye the wahan..." why did you go there, barks the man who doesn't care.  nk's flakepot answer about a young man and a young woman, etc., drives him nuts.

"khushi kumari gupta ke baad tum pehle aise insaan ho jisske liye main yeh kah raha... unbelievable." after kkg, you're the first person about whom i'm saying this... unbelievable.

so kkg was the first? hmmm. this equating of the two mad ones was interesting. he could resist neither. do seemingly hard hearted ones have a weakness for genuine, clean people with a streak of looniness? their childlike innocence reaches them in a way adult worldly behaviour cannot, and the craziness seals the deal. just a thought.

and also somehow with that one word he turned them into a team... which endured till the end. a special bond between the ati swadeshi khushi and the phaaren return nk. asr was a sharp one, he could sense the innocence that resided in the heart of both these creatures and in that they were identical.

the worst scene of this great episode: a married man  with his devoted and trusting wife right before him, first sweet talks her into believing what he wants and then leers at khushi's picture on his mobile while his wife looks at him adoringly. that rustic creepiness of shyam, spiders up my arms.

but terribly ipkly, when asr is worried about sis and yelling (but naturally), she tries to calm him down with a question...
where did you go, did you go to a party... and he gets entangled like a piece of gota in time... a flashback.

and memories of a girl come by... she was a party, wasn't she?
the best new year eve's party ever. he stalks off, unsettled by his thoughts.

next morning, the win lose conversation of the night before finds its perfect denouement. sangeet. idea!... "haar jeet ki toh baat hai, bua ji... yalgaar yalgaar! jung ke liye taiyaar kijiye." it is a matter of winning and losing, buaji... get ready for war, urges our drama queen... watch out, boy, she's coming to get you.

beautiful episode, smoothly sliding over to the next thing on the agenda. faraq padta hai...












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