Thursday, 12 January 2017

episode 39 you galvanize me



for years, he'd built his wall. his fortress of faraq nahi padta. the ramparts reinforced with anger, denial of any emotion remotely connected to pyaar. he knew the consequences of giving one's heart unthinkingly, the tragedy had shaken the foundation of his being, and this was the only defence he could put up against such devastation. and so his eyes remained remote, his emotions nowhere in sight. he didn't give a damn. all relationships were contained, within control. then she walked up the ramp, tripped, and fell into his arms.

in that moment something changed. something quickened within. something galvanized him. and that stillness he so needed to stay calm was permanently broken.

 
when i saw the episode, this was the scene that got embedded. and with it the word, galvanized.




whenever he met her, something would always give way. came out as temper, but indicated a loss of his characteristic control. no one got that much under his skin. he did not allow it.

in this context his relationship with la is interesting. he likes her, precisely because he never loses that sense of self control with her. she is important... up to the point he is willing to allow. she certainly doesn't quicken him. 


we saw his reaction to her when she walked up teetering on high heels and awkward, for the first time in a sari. he was pretty calm, a bit amused, perhaps a little indulgent toward the girl who made such a  lot of effort for him. he found her pleasing to behold in her new gear, but it didn't make him hear the breeze and a refrain reaching up for the eternal. it didn't catch him, pull him right in, make him do things he had never done before. 


he was fond of lavanya, understanding in his own way, but their relationship was not predicated on a powerful feeling from his side. if anything, it was lavanya who had a sense of being utterly and insanely in love with him.

that day at the mandir, his main concern was his sister, "
di, aap janti hain na ki main aapki koi baat nahin taalta... iss baat ka bahut faida uthati hain aap." he was willing to open la's fast for her sake, anyway such rituals meant nothing to him. and now his jija ji had again failed to appear on time, plus di had just discovered the platter with the raksha dhaga was not the correct one. twice he assured her, not to worry, he'd get the right kind of platter for her... "kuch galat nahin hoga," and finally with the sweetest pause and absolute self assurance, "main hoon na." sahi, galat, a major theme of ipk. how important it was for him that everything should be sahi now in their lives. their had been enough galat.

but man proposes, dm disposes.

while galat was being pondered here, khushi was wondering why was it that every galati seemed to bear her name on it. in this case, the switching of the platters. anjali's silver thaal, heavier and made of pure silver now in her hands, by mistake. her mistake, it seems. come to think of it, was it only her mistake? how come he didn't realise that the platter returned by the stall keeper was much lighter than the one he'd given? or maybe, neither khushi nor asr were thinking straight at that time? not thinking at all, something tells me.

a very clever foreshadowing of what's to come. there will be a galati, and she'll be blamed for it. it would turn everyone's life upside down. to set it right would take much more than returning the property to the rightful owner. and try as she might she may not be able to correct the situation ever as all relationships got caught and churned in a cruel twist of fate.

if asr wants a relationship which is easy to keep in check, di wants to give all of herself to hers. which is what she does. so much, that she almost forgets to ask anything for herself. other than intermittent appearances by her beloved yeh and a few words of love and devotion via phone. hmm, now who is it that's always getting mysterious calls and skulking off to speak to his client, the enigmatic raanisahiba?




she wants to make everyone happy. sometimes even interfering where she oughtn't, yet, every time he isn't there when she expects to see him, a heavy blanket of sadness chills the air, burdens her heart. she needs her husband for her own sustenance, and somehow it feels terrible to see her so despondent.

no wonder, her chhotey wastes no time to go call for a fresh platter, and maybe find out what's holding up his brother in law.

khushi has reached the temple with payal. chatting and coming up the stairs she looks up and there he is. what! she stands there nonplussed.



as if on cue, he looks up, something is different. he sees her. there's nothing to do but stand there gazing at her, hopelessly lost. this is not the first time he's seeing her in a sari or dressed up, yet he looks stunned, can't turn away.




she too is unable to break that riveting eye contact. the call of rabba vey all around, as though something within is almost seeking the help of the eternal.


what is one to do with this strong, undeniable, unfathomable feeling. his eyes lose their distant look, they smoulder. she is so aware of him though she pretends to be calm. strange, his girl friend gets an amused look, and this girl who has dared to yell at him, even turn her back and walk away gets this. i remember nani at holi saying something about huge mountains crumbling before love, this is but dear chhotey, the little one. but his fortress was thick, strong, secure. and the fall of it is bound to be painful, even though what breaks it is love.

 
payal comes back. a return to reality, he turns away and moves elsewhere to make a call. she makes for a stall but not without looking at the place where she'd seen him. her lips say, "hume bas woh arnav singh raizada ke aas paas aana nahin hai... par woh yahan aaya kyun... woh toh bhagwan mein vishwas hi nahin karta..." her eyes say, she wished he were standing right there.

and then of course, what had to happen, happens. she'd been getting dizzy spells, unused to fasting that she was. dreams of 15/16 jalebis the moment she can eat had kept her going. but suddenly, it got to her. and she started to sway, about to faint and collapse on the temple ground.




he was away, back to her, talking on his phone. but he felt it. mehsoos, across distance, an instinct about the other in place... without knowing, you know.




he turns. he sees. as realisation dawns, horror. she begins to give way. the platter clangs to the floor. just like it had when she'd dashed into him and smeared him with sindoor, earlier that very day. an echo of that moment crashes into the scene.






then all happens at such speed, it takes your breath away. forgetting all else but her, he springs forth, sprints across the distance separating them, hurtles down the steps, and comes running to her, catching her hand just in time. galvanized. she is in him and there is no place there for opaque inert things any more. there is instead a quickening, a passion, a movement toward another. unstoppable. just as he runs toward her with his body, so with his being, his mind. his heart has already settled some matters, the rest are catching up.

 



barun was absolutely fabulous rendering this feeling, this motion toward her without words, his face panic stricken, his movements urgent, yet graceful and energetic. beautiful. he had run into the guesthouse that night, and come swiftly out of nowhere to save her in the rain. today, his flow toward her even more defined, a sense of commitment almost. of course, if lavanya had fainted, he'd do the same for her. but would there be that panic on his face, that leap from a step almost as though he wished he could fly?




having reached his goal, he finally paused and looked at her. relief and that other thing on his face, always difficult to put words to. with the gentlest yet most assured touch, as if he had every right to do this, he drew her close, put her arm around his neck, and picked her, cradling her close.


then gazed at the one who made him forget everything. even his famous faraq nahin padta self control. 




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like to end with some of my favourite  dialogues of the day. and that early sequence between mami ji, anjali, akash was really charming. of course, mami ji is horrified that her bitwa might have a girl who's getting ready for him this teej. poor one and only son.
 
"sabse best hamri mehendi lagike padi, hanh."

my mehendi must look the v best!

"anjali, aisan kaha jawat hai ki jisski mehendi mein dark colour awat hai, usski sasuma ussko lub karat hai."

anjali, it is said that those who get colour in their mehendi, their ma-in-law loves them.

"arre wah di, mehendi and all..." (how cutely delhi that sounded to me.)

oh wow, di, mehendi and all!

"kaun kahan kaisan...bhy?"

who where how... why?
 
"rajbade khandan se hoi... mehendi bhi gold plated lagai."

from a aristocratic family we are... the mehendi also is gold-plated.
"di, main aa raha hoon, wahi bahut hai."

di, i am coming with you, that's more than enough.

"chatori number one."
 
greedy number one. 












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