Wednesday, 21 December 2016

episode 209 in my heart




why do i think of you even though...?

why do i remember you and me?
funny moments here and there
fairy lights glimmer and a touch 
does leave a shimmering trail.

why do i think of you even though...

why were you kneeling there and i sitting still
why were you coming near and i waited till
i was beating, pulsating, pulsar,
why are
some things so hard to understand
why are
some things not easy to forget

why do i think of you even though...?

and why does my breath race
a pace
sets my heart beat quickening
when you come near.

come near,
come near still...
heart beats, oh! catch them
hold them back, let me breathe
hold me now

even though.






curious are the ways of the heart. refuses to listen to the head when it feels it mustn't. seems to have a compass of its own and knows exactly where the lode star rises.

this episode reminded me once again, where the real bank and source of knowledge is. real knowledge.

two people whose lives have been blighted terribly by what seems like a terrible reality. two people, each hurt immeasurably by the other. that shattering "chot" that she knows nothing of, but he feels with every fibre of him, his eyes growing unfocused in intolerable pain at every reminder.

and she so brutally treated by the man who moments ago had said "bas karni hai" and every bit of her had sung. her bangles, her bindi, her heart, nothing had not been touched by that little turn of head and something in the eyes of the man who wanted to talk to her about... what, what does he want to say to me. with a little smile trembling with anticipation she'd left to hear what he had to say. and then an unexpected visitor... after that only cold contemptuous voice, a harsh proposition, a merciless dragging by the hand and here she was, with a colour thrust on her parting, and all around her only confusion and pain. no answers.

but sometimes, just sometimes, there's that window of clarity in the midst of mayhem. when what is true touches the only part of us that senses truth... the heart. and that is all that matters.

today he put the red, not on her parting but her cheek, but it was as though he accepted her, made her his own, and she returned with the same emotion... you are mine, mine, said his eyes, his touch, the colour floating all around.

she looked at him with eyes that wondered then capitulated and said, i am but yours of course, hum toh aap hi ki hain. in fact, they seemed to implore, make me yours.

if there was any chance that they might walk away from the heart's message, the bhang dropped in to make sure no such thing could happen. not today. not on a full moon tithi (date) when radha had played with krishna and he had put colour on her face to bridge a distance, to tell her she was part of his heart.

isn't bhang a great favourite of that cool deity, the ultimate husband it is said, though he walked around wearing animal skin, ash on his body, not gainfully employed in a solid money making job, hangin' out with his pals and a snake wound round his neck, smoking pot, ganja chandu charas, and drinking bhang? our revered lord shiva. it takes a deeper knowledge to know why this being was so loved by his wife, why he had the power to move the world. all in the heart i think... he was just totally pure of that. the one who consumed all the poison so that the world may survive. and after he had taken in the poison, amrit rose from the churned oceans.

a hundred metaphors and myths and stories of childhood evoked in the scenes of this episode. not done by design perhaps... but so powerful was the coming together of asr and khushi, it took you to mythological realms and tales of divine love. and of characters that stepped up and took on more so that their world may survive. on a night of catastrophe when poison rose, a young man decided he could bring amrit to his family, his di, by swallowing the poison. what he never realised was that it was amrit that he was holding in his throat thinking it's vish... the bhang i felt, let the true nectar seep into his heart. and she thought the same, i'll take every bitterness, anything... to bring eternal joy to my sister... almost like an o'henry tale isn't it? a life lesson practically there.

"the heart has its own reasons which reason knows nothing of." 

~~~ blaise pascal ~~~

a bowl of water, rose petals float... she is here.

she splashes water on her face, her eyes... the bhang is upon her maybe, the truth will be seen when her eyes are clear of the colour, the lie, the deceit.

rose petals. they had to be there i guess. always somehow a reminder of his mother, a sign of blessing... clever use of it in many places.

slightly high, thoughtful, a little troubled, pensive... she roams in a gazebo of fluttering drapes and mirrors. why is she troubled, what bothers her?

she's thinking of him. not yelling and screaming and dragging and denigrating, but untangling fairy lights wrapped all around her. his gaze intent, his touch gentle, his skin on her skin. curious how the heart works. and this understanding of it is laudable.

her eyes look confused as though she doesn't want these thoughts, and yet... there he is... leading her out of the rings of diyas. putting on her payal. all those moments when she'd felt his tenderness, her excitement, her desire...

and as always, she finally comes to the kiss, the kiss she didn't want to stop. she wanted it. and the kiss on the cheek. and there she is standing alone and he comes and holds her hand to dance and help her win. at last a memory from moments ago. an implacable man with gentle fingers touching her with flaming red gulal.



on cue it seems, he walks into frame, behind the mirrors through the drapes... i can feel my heart constrict then start to race. a perfect shot by creatives to tell their story. barun seemed to glide in and the look on his face... so many emotions mixed, all centred on her, she not yet aware of his presence.

"khushi?!"

a question... a yearning... a man's whole world.

the wind comes in... it's staking a claim on its place and time.

a pause, a wait as they stand there just looking at each other. the makers have felt every bit of this scene, the editors are tiptoeing gently so as not to disturb magic.

he is frowning, worried, about many things it seems... possibly worried that he's hurt her a bit too much?

the wind is a quiet murmuring sea... she turns away.

he walks on silent feet to her and stands there, a little unsure of his next step.

she is rubbing her eyes.

he takes a decision and puts his hand on her upper arm, she goes still. ting tring... rabba vey starts... there is music in their hearts today, even if they don't wish to  hear.

she turns back to look at him...

she rubs her eyes. he holds her hand to stop her... the wind comes again, a sign of intense feelings that will break free...

almost mesmerised, with dream like movements he lifts his hand and pushes a silken strand away off her forehead, ever since then that night in a collapsing building, he's had this desire. today her head involuntarily turned a bit as though to feel the caress, to accept it and bring it nearer.

her eyes closed as feelings overwhelmed.

he gently blew into her eyes... hey hey... heyhey hey... she was stunned and remembering again. he had done this before... the day she thought he was practicing black magic on her.



languorous moments ticked by this holi afternoon and he blew away the irritant in his lover girl's eyes... she stared and remembered so many lovely things... which memory do we live by? the ones that are tumultuous and bring pain? or the ones that stir and thrill? a personality here and an emotion too.

she stared as he took care of her eyes... they both were getting lost in each other. an intimacy touched the frame. his eyes watched her closely, read her thoughts and there came a question in his eyes...

two people stood still face to face, not touching, just his hand by her eyes and a breath of his soothing her... there was such poignancy in those lissome lithe bodies standing there... so many possibilities, and this is all that seems to be left. poison had been drunk that night, to save whom, to vanquish whom.

maybe she remembered other things suddenly. she pushed his hand away... why, i wonder.

felt like a little angry gesture of a lover, that said, "how could you!" they both knew how much they wanted each other. even though...

his eyes moved in his signature way, assessing, she looked away, rabba vey played, not at all bothered by the rift. for it perhaps knew better.

he saw her troubled face, he struggled a bit with his own thoughts, conflicts within, and he turned to leave... he knew she had reason to reject him. too many reasons. yet every time it hurt him, even though...

but all of a sudden he stopped.




the first time i saw it, i had a feeling she'd stopped him, but i didn't dare hope for that beautiful moment. yet, it was that. her hand hand reached out and held his, pulling it back, stopping him.

a stirring breath taking moment. how still he went.

and in their love story a massive step was taken ... i thought of that small step on the moon analogy. she had reached out and held back the man who'd heaped only a slice of hell on her. she needed him. no. matter. what. the heart has its ways, thank g.

her face was troubled... but she had to have him close, had to ask him something urgent. he stood among the mirrors, speechless. time passed, they stood there like that. a plethora of emotions going through them...

at last he turned and looked at their linked hands, then his frown just as dark as it had been the whole day, more of consternation and puzzlement than anger perhaps, he looked up at her as though his glittering eyes asked, "why, what is it you want..." and as though it couldn't believe what was happening.

a glint in her eyes too as she made eye contact after she'd turned away with that anger between lovers...  a touch of tears.

she took the next steps too... the girl whose hand he'd held and taken roughly toward a temple, refusing to hear her words or all that her eyes said. but she had to talk to him... "dil ki baat" is often so different from the human made notions of shoulds and shouldn'ts, what does or does not happen.

divine complexity i sensed in these scenes... so much about our inner workings coming through. really, ipk did understand the language of this inexplicable thing we have come to call love.

ipk made clear, there is no place for social niceties, political correctness, rationality, nothing, in this feeling. extra rational, pure, untouched, it is what it is.

she stepped all the way to him... he stood their transfixed... all that hate... he knew how much he must have hurt her... and yet this innocent girl full of just a need walks up to him. pristine pure... this can defeat all that's negative, this can release a tear, this can win the universe. snow queen and the releasing of a boy's heart by a girl's unclouded heart wafting through.

she stood looking at him and heart beats came in over the rabba vey, thrumming...



 

two hands came up without any hesitation and held his face, he looked at her approaching hands, such a thing had never happened to him... to them.

heart beats.

he stood without a word, his eyelids lifted to glance at her again...

such tenderness had he ever been shown?

"hum aapse kuch poochna chahte hain, arnavji"...heart beats... the sun shone, and the curtains fluttered, a man looked on nonplussed, how much he loved her, how much... i want to ask you something, arnav ji.

she let go of his face and her hands reached for his hand, the wind rose, the girl took the boy's hand and placed it on her heart...



"aisa kyun hota hai," a delicate, guileless voice, the sound recordist wanted to add an echo to pretty it all up a bit, every creative wanted to give this scene some love... but really, that makeup was not necessary... sanaya's acting was enough to make it ethereal... why does this happen?

"jabbhi aap humare paas aate hain toh humari dil ki dhadkan tez ho jaati hai..." he looks at her almost stricken, what was she saying, how much he wanted to hold her and what a mess life had become. whenever you come near me my heart beats quicken...

she's a bit high, he knows that... he just wants to hear her words...

"humne samajhne ki bahut koshish ki"... she is troubled by the state of her being, how can she love this monster who made her do such things... life is complex... khushi delved into the mysteries of life with asr, he took her where she'd never been before and he changed her just by being there as she changed him... at the cost of sounding most cliched i must say, they helped each other find the person within.

i have tried hard to understand...

she shook her head and a childlike... "lekin samajh nahin paaye... bhulana chahte hain... par bhula nahin paate..." but i don't understand. i try to forget yet i can't...

how hard she's tried to hate him...

he feels her pain, her confusion, his heart reaches her on that plaintive note, why can't i forget though i try? he's hurt this girl so much, but she can't stop loving him. what is he to do with this beautiful innocent girl he so wants so wants.

"aisa kyun hota hai?"

she is in tears by now, a heady mix of her feelings, the bhang and his colour on her, his nearness, she's immersed.

and he holds her face gentle and loving, in his hands... his pagal, the girl whose sanka he must take care of, she who will return 300 rupees to him, he just wanted to be so good to her... and yet.

in this gazebo far far away, where rose petals float, their fragrance in the air, where for a short short while it's just him and her. not the carrier of responsibilities, the brother, the outraged lover, the broken boy, none of them. he. as he is, simple and just that. with her. he touches her in a way he's longed to for such a while.

"bataiye na... aisa kyun hota hai?" tell me. why does this happen?

no words really in him, just an overwhelming burgeoning of feelings, tears gather in dark chocolate eyes. barun makes sure you never feel the glycerine.

i am sure the guy cried behind the glycerine.

"ki humari dil ki dhadkan humari saason se bhi tez ho jaati hai?" that my heart beats race faster than my breath?

and even as he looks at her, a part of a question whose answer is a truth, one eternal... she passes out on him.

what a lovely girl... gets drunk and falls flat... i could trust her and love her. seriously.

and the wind rushes, the trilling piano notes of rabba vey wrap around them, the gazebo holds them like an oyster, a pearl in its heart, she collapsed on him.




a little time to himself, he looks away fighting his tears... wipes one with the knuckles... like a child. a cut in the stone, and a tear at last, the beginning perhaps of the washing away of pain. a child's heart awakens another.

he is overwhelmed by her innocent giving love... you can't fight that. it is easy to scream and shout and shut everything out, but what do you do when someone tells you with complete trust... when you come close to me my heart starts racing... tell me why. even though i try to forget... she knows he has hurt her... even then i can't forget... tell me why?

she swings away awkwardly and he holds her looking at her. i felt there was a lovely scene edited out as he draws her close and picks her up as he has done many a time before and walks away. an owning of the moment, a taking charge of his truth in his stride. somehow they are separate from the crowds all around.



he takes her to the place where they've met again and again... lay her on a chair, and tended to his lover... so so tender, with a large handkerchief and holi colour on the cheek...the feeling was in his fingers, his face, his eyes, as though all he wanted to do for the rest of his life was take care of her, make her feel good... oh to be loved like that...

the bhang was having its way with him too... you could see it in the loosened jaw, the relaxed facial muscles, the lack of his usual aggressiveness.

he let the hankie go, then sat looking at her, his hand settled on her cheek... cherish. that is what he wanted to do. his girl.

she slept. she knew she was in safe hands.

when her eyes opened, the wind came in instantly, the feelings swirled and danced, they wanted voice, they wanted to live...

he was stroking her hair. yet when he saw her eyes open he began to draw his hand away, as if worried their status quo didn't permit all this... how hard for him not to love her, touch her... yet that is what the current situation demanded.

he sat staring at her beloved face and remembered a girl in white with a wide smile with a key on her palm. mannat ki chabi. a simple key that was supposed to open the lock... she would. she did.

many memories rushed him as they had floored her. the early days, when he'd seen her on the road in delhi, angry with the man who'd rammed into her scooter.

he'd never not wanted her.

and she stood there in red and he gobsmacked...

i have goosebumps for how long i have forgotten, the music is perfect, the sound soars and takes me on a memory ride... i remember sitting up in bed waiting for this magic night after night... so many memories of ipk.

how he'd needed to come out and save her from the car that night of rain...

a return to now as she says, "arnav ji, aapne abhi tak humare sawal ka jawaab nahin diya..." you haven't yet answered my question.

so cute, she had not forgotten... even the bhang wouldn't couldn't make her forget... she needs the answer...

he shakes his head as if to say don't hurt like this, he strokes her cheek with his thumb and he tells her why he thinks what happens, happens. today he won't lie, won't fob her off... today he won't scream "i hate you" to tell her he can't live without her. today he won't tease, he won't play, he won't stall, today he will tell her and he will love her and adore her and hold her and hug her just as his heart wants to.

he leans in toward her and says the words that would be embedded in many hearts forever. fairly pedestrian words really, even silly and mushy, most men would balk at saying such things... but not this actor. he would make them real. and exciting.

"main batata hoon ki aisa kyun hota hai..."

low key, understated, thinking man's voice... as if he is wanting to alleviate pain with a real answer, a solution.

he swallows, his hand moves to hold hers...

and he places it on his heart... clifftop wafts in, a flash forward in me...

"jab tum mere paas hoti ho," when you are near me... he is gentle and husky and intimate... she looks into his eyes... an instant of complete meeting.

"toh tumhari dil ki dhakano ke saath saath... mere dil ki dhdkane bhi tez ho jaati hai..." then along with your heart beats, mine quicken too.

she is wonder struck by this... hey hey sings the air.

and a smile begins to clear the troubled look in her eyes... she understands what he tries to say. she understands this man alright.

"humari dhadkane ek ho jaati hai," our heart beats become one.

nth time i watch... and the goosebumps are all over me... why does this break through all my cynicism, my jadedness and feel right... true... beeeautiful.

"jo tum mehsoos karti ho... jo main mehsoos karta hoon..." which i can feel and you can feel.

she joins him...

"humari dhadkane..." tearful she is, caught in the wonder of it. 

"ek ho jaati hai..." our heartbeats become as one. he nods and affirms.

she seems to sob, but now in joy, a glimmer of a smile on his lips and on hers... rabba vey.

why should this kind of feeling matter? let's talk of real estate, bank balance, investment, reality check, branded shoes bags jewellery the right brand of college... that's real, that's life that's what we must have... must.

nah. let's talk of a boy and girl and a poolside named romance.

and he stroked her cheek again, and she looked at him and all was good.




"i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it...
~~~ e. e. cummings ~~~








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