Sunday, 26 February 2017

episode 124 of faraq and zaroori

"yeh humari sagai ki angoothi hai"

his face lost all structure almost, all the hardness, the set jaw, the sharp gaze, the imperious lips, the utter certainty, the air of dominance. this is my engagement ring, she'd just said, and even if the echo hadn't been added to her voice, the music hadn't been tweaked, the slow (yet almost instant) wipe and falling away of all expression from a face, captured by a staggered pan would have told the tale and more. there was a crashing sound in it and it was picked up by my heart. i felt the draining of everything in him. a wind rose somewhere far away in a desert and blew across the wide expanse in seconds to sear through him; a howling, hot, merciless phenomenon of nature, swarming around, entering his heart carrying the dreaded words and tossing it everywhere, reaching his mind, his soul, his being. was there no escape from it.

i had been wondering for a couple of days, when i was forced to take a break, if indeed all was well in my ipk and barun world, or was my fantasy world crumbling. was the boy really the actor i thought he was? did i still feel the dhakdhak? yes, this too did happen, believe it or not. because not only were there the demands of family and ad, there were the mood swings of dailymotion. days went by without my watching anything. so many attempts to see 124, only to get stuck in the middle of backless choli scene. finally, the stars aligned and i saw the episode. again i realised, it is one thing to remember content, but another to actually watch the performers in action.

when this scene came, i knew the gold i thought i'd found was indeed that, no sign of dross in it. and i knew it straight in my heart as that expression hit it where it ticks. there are several brilliant actors in this world, many much more proven in their art and experienced than the young man i was staring at. but not one has reached my heart the way he does. every single time, har baar.

six months since we saw anything new from barun sobti. many rumours about the film he's made. no idea when it will be released. shooting for the 22 yards project pushed back by rain. sometimes a strange thought in my head. was it just a mirage? that shaking up of my reality by someone on a screen, that talent one could almost touch, that startling energy? 

all the doubts and worries gone in an instant. he will be back. would like to dedicate 124 to barun sobti, and pay tribute to his talent. this was his episode really.
his eyes seemed to bore into her, shocked yet entreating. tell me it's not true, they seemed to say. how could you do this, how could you... no. in episode 4, with glance icy cold he'd spoken of the world that was "bedard," heartless, where only money and power mattered. how hard he'd strived to give his heart this shell, this protection of material things, yet here was dard. again. she was engaged. she whom he couldn't fathom, who broke through his thick fortress walls every time, who got right under his skin, she whose every tear hurt him, with whom he could get angry, upset, completely besotted, bedazzled, but could never ever remain indifferent... what was this she just said.

the dhakdhak stayed long, rumbling quietly within, gradually melting through and becoming a part of heartbeat.

the day had begun with an altercation. they'd walked into each other, his papers had flown all over the place, he'd demanded an apology from her, she'd refused and said no way. of course, the argument had continued till she stomped off with a won't apologise, and to you... never. what was it with khushi. didn't she know that that's exactly the kind of thing he couldn't leave well alone? he'd find a way to retaliate. or maybe, one of her layers, that dupatta girl, wanted precisely that? oh, such lovely understanding of our contrary and striated characters by the writers.

curiously, and reflecting the same contrary thing in us, he'd dropped his phone in sheer surprise when he saw his nani dance to placate khushi, but he hadn't raved and snarled at the scene. instead a little quickening in his eyes when she reciprocated la's little flirtatious overture and decided to give in. got to say, sanaya was so fluid and lovely in that bit of oo la la swing, anyone would have succumbed. he'd actually gotten quite caught in the moment and smiled as he watched his fam go bonkers and so happy, also this exasperating woman do her loving giving thing. but of course, when their eyes met, he had to return to a closed look and walk off.

in the meantime, the ring is back with him... and he knows it's hers. she'd all trepidation walking into his room. he looks at her, remembers her yelling, "haan haan hume pata hai ki aap arnav singh raizada hain..." yes, yes i know you are asr, but i will not apologise to you, i will say sorry to anyone but never to you, "
aur aap se toh bilkul nahin magenge." had he not remembered that, i have no idea what would have transpired. but he did. and the most wicked expression ever came into play. he was gonna have some fun.

a sweet smile planned revenge... "toh yeh tumhari angoothi hai." so this is your ring, he demurred, starting the game.

"ji, hume de dijiye." yes, give it to me, she returned not gauging mood, a little imperious in her choice of words.

not acceptable. "tumhe kya laga, tumhara jab man chahega tum iss kamre mein aaogi aur mujhe order dogi ke ring de do... aur main lauta doonga?" what did you think, you'd walk in whenever you like into this room and order me to hand over your ring and i'd do that?

this is asr, do not mess with him. whatever his feelings for her, he will not take that tone from anyone lying down, especially from her precisely because she matters; he so wants her to be his, hanging onto his every word, and there she goes defying him. unbearable. basic personality, hard for him to fight it. the duel begins in earnest. "kya kaha tha tumne, tum kissi se bhi mafi maang logi par mujh se nahi... socha arnav singh raizada se badtameezi se baat karke bach jaaogi? ring chahiye? sorry bolo." what had you said, you'd ask anyone for forgiveness but not me? thought you could be rude to asr and get away with it? want your ring? say sorry.

it was still somewhat playful, shards of the famous temper, but shades of naughty too. the little girl of 8 and boy of 14 never too far way when the two are together.

"sorry? kis baat ke liye?" sorry? for what? oh she's in no mood to give in.

how adroit the handling of escalation of war by writers, it's not in one jump ever that they reach a point of no return. always a to and fro, a provoke and attack and a rise of pace. i remembered the moment when he dropped her from his office... also had come on the back of this dueling they engage in no matter what when where. the only time they've both lost their heads and let it be what it longed to be was diwali night. but through many harsh words and hurtful encounters aren't they really always articulating just that very longing? that frantic desperate need for each other?

his anger pushes up. "sirf sorry nahin... kaan pakad kar maafi magogi." just sorry won't do, you'll hold your ears and apologise.

she storms off. keep waiting for that apology in which case. he'd said the ring was important to her. but it wasn't. not really.

the ring was important to them. it was meant to bring them to that moment in the rising hot sahara wind, when a man's world would fall apart and he'd make a connection that his tongue would not have the courage to utter, not because it lacked guts but because a heart had hurt too much and feared getting shattered again. and she would look into his eyes seeking answers to questions she'd not even asked herself yet knew they were there, she wanted them answered as though life itself depended on it.

he'd have thrown the ring... had it not been for the knock. beside himself with anger now, he was brusque, "kya hua, ab kyun ayee ho?" what happened, why have you come now?

"kya chahte hain aap?" what do you want. the tone has gone more tense now, thick... adults in place.

"main kya chahta hoon tum acchhi tarah jaanti ho... maafi mango." you know very well what i want... apologise. he is insistent, flint in his voice.

she begins to answer, but he cuts in, he wants his pound of flesh... "uh huh. kaan pakad ke..." uh huh, hold your ears.

devilish smirk... he's winning.

"sorry." she was humiliated but helpless, that ring she must get back. that ring not important to her.

and he was just settling down to enjoy his victory, when the tear in her voice caught his ears. he looked up... and in less than an instant, a shift in his eyes, so quick, the smile didn't have time to adjust. just the eyes... and a leap of emotion... a complete change.

"kitni baar bolna hai?" she was nearing hysteria in her pain...

"sorry sorry sorry sorry... sorry sorry sorry..."


he was up, and before her in a trice, holding back her hand from catching the other ear. he couldn't take that hurt in her voice, eyes, face, everything. the game had gone too far.

"sorry..." she went on like an automaton.


he couldnt see her like this. how could he bring her to this state. that easily awakened gussa of his... he picked up the ring and returned it. rabba vey took note of the intensity, the remorse of the moment. a man and a woman in a place where nothing is as it should be.

then a beautiful thing happened. 

as she struggled to slip her ring on, hands trembling, unsteady, he took her hands in both his ever so tenderly to help her. she watched mesmerised. perhaps her heart wanted this moment, this putting of ring on her engagement finger by him to be true. but had he not said he was marrying another... so what could she do but agree to that alliance not of her heart... the one that meant nothing?

and she remembered, and pulled her hand away, "aap yeh angoothi nahin pahna sakte," you can't put on this ring.

he was surprised, taken aback at the vehemence in her voice. perhaps all he wanted to do was slip it on, on to her delicate finger, absorbed, engrossed, wanting just that. this was perhaps the first time ever he'd held a girl's hand like that and taken a ring in his to make her wear it. tenderly, patiently, lovingly. he hadn't even done it for the girl he said he'd marry.

but she said "yeh humari sagai ki angoothi hai," and the whole world blew away, leaving a deafening silence, a suffocating emptiness, a death almost of breath.

the ring slipped from his leaden fingers and plunged down. like his heart probably at that moment. the low angle shot transited to a close up of a club foot in black shoe under a lovely pink saree walking into frame exactly where the ring comes to rest, a delicate hand with manicured nails picked it up slowly. di had arrived.

perhaps someone had sent her to save him from this slow constriction of his senses. he returned to reality and walked away, she turned slowly toward di, numbed by all that had happened, emotions in turmoil, storm within.

a beautifully laid out scene.

anjali, with characteristic gentleness, put on the ring for khushi ji, admonishing her sweetly for dropping off this ring so valuable to her all over the place. khushi choked back tears as this whole world tumbled around in this crazy game of rings and engagements. rabba vey entered frame.

she looked at him, for her eyes just wanted to seek him now, now that she'd said the words and he was looking the way he was, what was happening to them her gaze seemed to ask as she watched him watching her. he turned away. no one was allowed to see him so vulnerable, he would hide all his pain, he would take care of it all. only the song seemed to know how far deep in he had been cut. 

we are not perfect... certainly asr is far from it. but the heart surely is pristine. haanh, nahin hai dil asr ke seene mein, he'd told her the day she had come trying to patch things up between him and la. but there was always that heart in the man. that heart that yearned, that longed, that wanted to fight with a girl and then wrap her in his arms and never let her go, kiss her by the poolside, lift her to his heart, never let her be hurt, yet tell her she meant nothing... didn't she know he said it because she did mean so much... some might say, she meant everything.

"lagta hai yeh ring aapke liye bahut his special hai... bataiye na iski khasiyat kya ha," di wants to know what makes the ring so special.

he looks at her as though asking her to break his heart again and again with those most hurtful words she has said... 6 words and his world reels, his heart aches... his breath stops... he can't focus... he can't...

"aapki shadi hone wali hai..." di is delighted, you're about to get married. he is struck by the meaning of sagai again, it means marriage...

two people, apparently not meant for each other, in fact now beholden to others, what is the thing that makes them ache so much for each other. does this have a name this intolerable feeling?

di leaves, and a long long moment in that difficult evening. two people stand looking at each other, pain and complaint in their eyes, yet who can say anything, now that they find themselves here in this forlorn juncture. rabba vey has never sounded more lost.

the phone rings, but...

"khushi," he needs to call her, he needs to be angry again. now.

"haan, buaji," she answers her phone, not him.


"angoothi mil gayi," she's found the ring... he grabs her phone abruptly.

"yeh aap kya kar rahe hain.. hum baat kar rahe the..." what are you doing, i was speaking... she's angry, perhaps this time she too is using anger to mask the pain.

"main bhi baat kar raha tha..." i was speaking as well, his voice is throbbing with pent up something.

"aap kya kah rahe hain hume samajh mein nahin..." i don't understand what you're doing... he stands there, arm swung back holding her phone, face tilted looking at her with a question and something else in his eyes, just looking. an emotion enters his irises, his face begins to show things he rarely does, a pursing of lips, a flaring of nostrils, emotions he is trying hard to control but they will not listen. she is moved, confused, shaken by what she's seeing.  

soaked, salty voice, "kya kar rahi ho tum..." what are you doing. the edge of surf, white foam, touch of salinity, all guard down.

"humne kya kiya..." what have i done?

"tumhari sagai ho gayi... kaise... tumne mujhe batana zaroori nahin samjha? why... kissi ko pata kyun nahin hai ki tumhari..."

and it's all torn out of him, tide rising higher, gushing uncontrollable, submerging dry land, you are engaged... how? you didn't think you needed to tell me? why... how come no one knows that...

oh my sweet arnav singh raizada, "tumne mujhe batana zaroori nahin samjha" you ask. how is she to know that she needs to, even if she wanted to? didn't you tell her she means nothing to you? don't you understand she's too young, too inexperienced to know when you say that you mean the opposite. yet how you long for her to understand exactly this, don't you. someone to understand you as you are? someone to love you no matter what. and that someone is this girl right before you. khushi. the one whose name sounds different on your lips, the one you dream of, and fear losing. father betrayed you, maa went away, the world broke trust. you barricaded your fragile dil and said to h with it. yet something inside always wanted that one. the one who would release you. be yours. and you'll be hers forever. khushi.
"tumne mujhe batana zaroori nahin samjha?" he'd ask her that on a ravaged bridge months later again. always that need to be important to her. mean something.

though she knew he hurt, she felt her own pain too keenly still. she flung back:

"aap ko isse kya faraq padta hai..."

angry, ferocious cry from a girl hurt by him too many times. what difference does it make to you? the classic question.

he caught her and jerked her close...

"mujhe kya faraq padta hai?!! mujhe faraq padta hai, dammit, kyunki ..."
i can translate the line all i like, but i'll never catch the tone, the texture, the velvet under the fire, the desperate wanting wrapped in violent words. what difference does it make to me... makes a difference, dammit, because -

and the struggle starts... to finish a sentence... to release the heart into the emotion... into this moment. faraq padta hai. makes a difference. he has said that at least. at last. and as she stares at him speechless and he holds her gaze but can't say a word, yet that slight swallow of his says it all, rabba vey now racing pounding insisting yearning loving submerging.

the ring had a job to do and it's kept its promise.
brilliant writing. for asr to get to the point to say, yes damn you it makes a difference, one had to have a situation as harsh as this.

"khushi ji..." anjali came and took khushi away. she did look back of course, he quickly hid his face, but did she see it?

he stood there, aching. then his nostrils flared a bit, he tried to control himself, just the slightest swallow... yes, it was there... a tear in his heart.

rabba vey.


dard... a vm i just had to make

dard is ache, dard is pain, agony, wound, dard blows us away. without it, how would we live or love.

made this vm just as 2015 arrived... this is what i wrote when i posted it on india-forums:

hi everyone, pictures of asr khushi in my mind the whole day, that too with a sombre piece of music... the last movement of tchaikovsky's pathetique, a symphony i heard a while ago by chance and absolutely fell for... not that i listen all the time, nor that i recognise every bit of it, but at some point as a movement plays, it reaches out and i do know yes, this is the sixth in b minor and i fly off...

just read that in russian the name translates to passionate...

believe it or not i made this to wish you all a great year ahead... my daughter saw it and said all the "staring" reminded her of twilight, though some bits made her happy.

have a splendid 2015...

please watch in hd and push up the sound.


note: no copyright infringement intended. this is really fan appreciation, and nothing else. there's no monetary or commercial involvement in this endeavour. the songs, visuals, music belong to original copyright owners.

Wednesday, 22 February 2017

episode 26 (mahaepisode) get out

"kal raat ki baarish ne sab kamzore kar di

it was all because of the wretched rain. and as expected, though we saw a bit of sunshine yesterday, today again the skies darkened, the clouds came dark and grizzly, threatening, grim. the first ipk mahaepisode, 43 odd minutes long, telecast on 9 july 2011, episode 26 was designed with great instinct and built on the themes developing through the week. interestingly, despite all its destruction and doom, it really is a beautiful bridge between two contrasting emotions, both very powerful. a wild attraction that won't be allowed in. and a gentle, almost tender feeling that just wants to come out.
"kal raat ki baarish ne sab kamzore kar diya." last night's rained weakened everything.

"kya hua, aaj phir tum gusse mein?" what happened? you're angry again? anjali's plaintive question to her scowling sibling was like the key signature of today's entire story. the main players: gussa and baarish.

rain as metaphor, rain as backdrop, rain almost as character, heightening every sense. what efficient use of a device. torrents of emotion breaking inside asr, into his carefully erected fortress. a shower of confusing feelings within khushi. what's happening, why is he like this, what's the matter, and why doesn't she walk away?

and the same rain, now in the physical sense, a destroyer, bringing down a structure. again a metaphor? asr's whole facade of unemotionality crumbling? the lightning breaking across, the thunder crashing into it, none other than the shattering attraction of this unknown girl from another world, almost another planet? her innocence, her feisty spirit, her attitude, her ability to be different, her indomitable spunk, all proving impossible to hold out against? oh that heartless rain, it was a day that had portents of disaster in it. or maybe this is the only way love finds its path to some.

from the moment nani heard about lavanya from a very unguarded khushi (sometimes it is good not to speak so much, mmm or maybe not, maybe this is how it was meant to be, and dm was at work, for normally would khushi go all the way to when she saw them upstairs... interesting this motormouth in the usually circumspect ms jhalli)
, the mood was set. it was to be a day of confrontations and rage.

miss gupta!

arnav singh raizada was incensed. he'd reached another pitch of anger today. she'd crossed yet another limit. in his city. in his office. in his mind. his thoughts. but in his home? he was not allowing this girl in to this extent. even as his irritation gnawed at him, anjali's call came through. khushi had told nani about lavanya. that was it.

barun sobti's performance of cold, complete fury was at a level rarely seen anywhere my eyes and heart felt. the office quaked, air stilled, red lost colour, khushi made her terrified way upstairs.

 "come in," said he almost gently.

from there to "get out... i said, go" was a series of insinuating questions and insults full of hidden layers and hints of what had come before. it was fascinating to watch the two, as though contenders in an arena, one intent on winning, the other clutching on hard, hoping to stay standing. a high pressure, claustrophobic environment. the long spots heightening the arena feel, the music deftly wielded, reftlecting the ins and outs of every emotion.

"tumhari kismat acchhi hai ki main
tumse abhi baat kar raha hoon...
yeh contract, job, sab ek taraf hai
par agar mere personal life mein koi interfere karta hai
toh main usse maafi mangne ka bhi mauka nahin deta..."

you're lucky i am talking to you now... this contract, job, everything is on one side... but if anyone interferes in my personal life i don't even give them the chance to apologise.

khushi knows she has transgressed, but she has no idea how completely he guards his private life. no one is allowed in. even di has limited access. this is the boy who had to take a lot of zimmedari at a young age. and his private world is his space. certainly no one is allowed to discuss it, especially behind his back. a similar coldness enters his eyes when he sees lavanya at rm later, why didn't you tell me you were coming here?

"galati meri hai, ki tumhari aukat jaante hue bhi maine tumhare saath yeh contract kiya...mujhe yaad rakhna chahiye tha ki
tum jaise logon ki
niyat kabhi saaf nahin hoti

the fault is mine... despite knowing what sort of person you are i have entered this contract with you... i should have remembered that people like you never have clean/good intentions.

khushi's eyes widened at that. my ears pricked up. what? tum jaise logon...? got the feeling, in his anger he was losing his sense of space and time... and other people, other incidents from his life were strolling in, becoming part of the tirade.

"kuch toh maqsad hoga...
kyonki yeh toh main jaan gaya hoon ki tum jaisi ladkiyan kuch bhi bina matlab ki nahi karti."

there must have been a motive... for this much i know that girls like yoy never do anything without a motive.
huh? girls like you? who're these girls he refers to? who does he know who did things for a matlab?

"kya soch rahi this tum...
pareshaan hogi
kyonki itni koshish karne ke baad bhi...kissi ameer ladke ko phassa nahin payi!"

what are you thinking... you must be upset... despite trying so hard you haven't been able to nab a rich fellow. 
and with that final insult, khushi is broken. while something tells you, ah so there was a a scheming woman and a rich man somewhere in this man's life. an incident that has left him with a lack of trust in women other than those in his family, of sharing any real and deep emotion with them, of betrayal and endless anger.

that's why maybe: arnav singh raizada ko kissi bhi ladki se koi faraq nahin padta. he is not a misogynist, but his faith in women and relationship is badly damaged. which is why i could identify with his disquiet at khushi's impact on him, it was not just a man being arrogant, there was almost a fear in him. of doing something wrong, while getting carried away by his feelings for a woman. (his father had obviously done much worse than just have an affair with a simple young woman; and that woman was not so simple, even though that's what we were told in the end.)

shaking with fury, he sends her away, refusing to see her face anymore. tears well up in her eyes, but he has turned away, go to the guesthouse and work from there for the rest of your time at ar. i said go.

he seems to have left sparks of his rage at home. for nani picks them up and becomes strangely asr like in her quest to know and get control of the situation. lavanya is summoned. and though there are some lighter moments with lakshmi ji and the short dress. the "hum nani hain" segment is edged with a flintiness, similar to that in his eyes.

and lavanya, though seemingly shallow and self absorbed, i mean did you see the way she screamed at rahim chacha, has more to her. there's a certain can do spirit in her quick change to namaste nani ji and lakshmi ji; and an endearing glimpse of a slightly unsure girl in her, "sorry nani ji, next time se main lambi dress pehenke aaoongi, salwar kameez..." sorry, nani, next time onward i'll wear longer dresses... salwar kameez.  

then warming to the theme, "by the way, mere paas ek saree bhi hai, designer one." by the way, i also have a saree, a designer one.  

asr means much to her, and she is smart enough to know she'll have to "adjust" a bit to get on the right side of his family. a young girl, city bred, ambitious, willing to go out there and get what she wants, there were things in her i sort of always liked. and behind that cold me first attitude, an interesting girl with a heart and a tenderness. but right now, just like khushi, she is trapped, albeit in the rock steady and plush environs of rm.

time is ticking by, looks like rain. khushi's not back home, payal is getting edgy. she calls everyone she can. while asr sits there, still wrapped in gussa, refusing to take calls.

"ek khushi aur ek yeh sinha. dono milke mera dimaag kharab kar denge." that khushi, and now this sinha. these two will drive me crazy.

did he just call her khushi? oh that sounded lovely. he puts down the phone in the middle of her call. he has no idea the guesthouse is dangerous. everything is crafted to perfection to bring us to a moment that will again change his life.

two gussas clash as nani and chhotey face each other. i find his view of life and marriage interesting. crisp, meaningful, no fuss. marriage is about happiness between two people. this man's mind is so contemporary. and it is intriguing to watch him clash with tradition. though he is younger, says apparently selfish things, what he says you know is valid.

"yeh poori zindagi ka sawal hai."
it's about one's whole life.  

"meri zindagi ka sawal hai." it's about my life.
nani is unhappy with what happened with his mama, obviously mami is not a girl of her choice.

"mama aur mami iss shaadi se khush hain. aur kissi bhi rishtey mein wahi baat sabse important hai." mama and mami are happy in their marriage. and in any relationship, that's the most important thing.

good point. but did he know of a rishta where this happiness was lacking though it seemed to be a traditionally "good" match, you can't help but wonder.

two ladkis and a terrible impasse. nani declares one girl is not good enough to be bahu of family. and the other girl? "kaun si ladki? kaun ladki andar aayi thi? kahan hai woh?" what girl? which girl came in? where is she? 

khushi is stuck in a collapsing building. alone, aghast, banging doors trying to get out, then sitting down helplessly whimpering, crying for help from her loved ones.

"bas. bahut sah liy
e. ab aur nahin sahenge." enough is enough, i'm not tolerating this any more.

at last, the gussa is carried on a gust of wind and reaches her. scared, confused, petrified, but an anger growing within. wonderful performance by sanaya. from chatty khushi to hurt, insulted, terrified, and now feeling shards of rage khushi.

asr's eyes are getting icy on nani's words, khushi stares unseeing at the storm outside and wreckage within. episode ends. the tension is palpable. asr signature tune fades in and up.



all in the family

khushi's brothers.

khushi's brother... not.


office episodes

Tuesday, 21 February 2017

episode 100 why did i, why didn't i?

an episode that felt like a movement from a symphony. like the second one or maybe the third where the inner underlying feelings are rising and cresting and crashing, even as an overall structure holds, trying to make sure there are no breaches, no overflow, lines hold and the course of the music isn't lost.

asr and khushi were never apart, not from the moment she saw him, in fact from even before that, when he came and stood in the corridor looking at her... anguished. without even knowing it he had felt all the feelings his sister mentioned later... he, an orphan like her, had instinctively known what would happen to her at the news of her beloved babu ji's illness. he had felt guilty for the way he threw her out of the car. that he knew, but his inner workings had quickly calculated what she must be feeling and he'd come running.

and once she saw him and lost all track of everything, just sensing her shore was near, and she'd run to him, flinging herself on him like a wave breaking, like a song reaching a high and letting go... then on they seemed to move together even when far apart, a strange connection between them, neither completely free of the other...

extreme anxiety, it changes things. suddenly your innermost fears are dancing on the surface, relentlessly. in all this while i have never seen khushi say what she said now...

"nahin hai himmat..." i don't have the courage.

"thak gaye hum..." i am tired.

"nahin hota humse yeh sab..." can't do all this any more.

she has smiled and sanka-ed and jalebi-ed and laad governor-ed her way through it all, but it was never easy. there was extreme burden on these young shoulders... from the age of eight. oh to be brave all the time. to laugh, to bear, to never complain, to say all is fine, i am lucky...
now her strength, her father is paralysed, hurt beyond belief, helpless... khushi feels the sweep of this massive moment, it drags her down, she is trying hard to stay afloat...

and he is there.

arnav ji.

without thought she flies to him.

and says, i am broken.

a body blow to him her words, his eyes close, his arms lift, yet he can't hold her in them. who knows what thought deters him. perhaps the feeling he will be swept away if he did? or maybe he knows just as instinctively that he is still linked with another, the ethics of this moment are confounding. for maybe he knows, if he should hug her there would be nothing platonic about it, it would be the hold of one who loves, no, one who needs and adores.

i have no idea why he stops. but this conflict becomes central to the episode's story and its music. a recurring theme, that hug that didn't get completed, and that abandoned crashing of hers into his arms.

she senses something isn't as it ought to be and she steps back...  and a moment of face to face... and the silence loaded with things unsaid, not unfelt... she looks away but she must meet his eyes once... she is khushi, darti hai par karti hai, a magnificent khushi at this moment, vulnerable, innocent, yet fighting back, being what she must be...

for several minutes the camera circles them as though in an arena, a battle place, a ring... at last, he steps forward on a "khushi", the wind is rising, she moves back...

and the feet that had rushed forward without volition on seeing him, retreat. she turns and runs away, fey and light and lilting and unstoppable.
her eyelids and cheeks and lips slightly puffed with crying, the lines soft, tremulous, such heartbreaking vulnerability on her face... she's gone, her dupatta flying, now disappearing beyond that corner... yet in his thoughts, in the brown agony of his eyes she stays.
a family is falling apart before a terrible situation, that feeling of despondency and lack of hope in hospitals.

she's tired, she needs to rest... but a thought makes her jerk to alertness, he is always near, maybe she needs his thoughts now to keep her focused, strong?

"kyun hue hum unke saamne... kyun humey sar rakhne ke liye unki kandhe ki zaroorat padi..." why did i go to him, why did i need his shoulders to lean on?

she acknowledges she did it because she needed him in this fearful, shaken hour. his solidity, his kandhe, his shoulders.

she is wan and slow in her movements.

in contrast, adding a layer to the sound and feeling and rhythm of the tale, is he... moving swiftly, jerkily... pacing.

why? the same "kyun" in his mind as hers. but in his case it's why did i not put my arms around her.

"kyun nahin rakh paya usspe haath main?" why couldn't i put my hand on her.

beautiful writing. unknown to both a feeling has taken over... their instincts make them go, make them stop... a turbulence of emotions in an ocean beginning to reveal its existence. a depthless, endless, myriad hued thing... some may call it love.

"woh ro rahi thi..." she was crying... "shayad chaahti thi ki main usse kuchh kahoon..." perhaps she wanted me to say something to her... "yeh kahoon ki sab theek ho jayega..." say that all will be well...

"aur main..." and i? "main uske aansoon dekhta rah gaya" i just kept looking at her tears doing nothing...

"kya ho gaya tha mujhe?" what happened to me.

it is always a privilege to be witness to arnav singh raizada's reverie. his voice reaches dark hidden corners, high unreachable edges and searches, its grain hints at his state of heart and mind, though he doesn't know it...

"kyun usske ek ek aansoo mujhe iss tarah..." why does every tear of hers does this to...

and he feels something.

a wet patch on his chest... tears.

oh something of hers always lingers around him, staying back even when she is not there, getting stuck, falling off, not wanting to leave him perhaps... payal, jhumka, dupatta. now tears.

his fingers reach the moisture, his thumb and forefinger feel it... as though a moment with her he steals.

an overwhelming moment.

director takes a break to show us the rise of the ugly force, now that it thinks it's in command. shyam manipulates bua ji quite deftly and too easily. she is willing to believe anything he says. bua ji had decided to take a liking to shyam, perhaps a childless woman craving a son was prone to make this sort of mistake. the talk of it being difficult to get a boy for khushi, which of course shyam brings to the fore knowing its value, is a bit irritating, but in their milieu likely true.

bizarre as it may seem, but suddenly talk of shadi starts. i did feel that was a bit forced. but it added the necessary dark foil to the light glowing within the rest of the episode.

here are two men, both in relationships with other women who are affected and aroused by khushi. why is it that in the case of one it feels all wrong, filthy, defiling.

and in the case of the other, even if he has a live in girl friend, it feels right, it feels perfect, in fact. why do i not feel this is wrong? i do believe that is to do with how it's written with poise, restraint and an innocence almost and the actor has interpreted it all.

shyam plays the game of the weak, the sly... he manipulates, he vitiates.

asr can only play like the strong, the brave... examining his own motives, examining honestly, acting with conscience.

walks about distracted, unable to concentrate, that classic pause and stillness before his wardrobe. when troubled he seeks the familiar corners of his room, his poolside, his laptop... he takes his thoughts there and likes to be with them, cloistering himself away. he is not his usual sharp self, something moves in him, aches, questions.

and when his girlfriend comes and hugs him, something spills over within. he must talk to her, to khushi, he must tell her he is here, all will be well, he will make it alright. his eyes close and he does what he has been wanting to do, hold her and reassure her.

his arms go around lavanya... maybe because this is allowed... that is not... and yet his heart and mind transgress a barrier... he talks to khushi holding lavanya... might have been obscene, when shyam did it with anjali, it was... here it felt moving, two people tied in different realities, terribly needing each other. yes, lavanya would get hurt, not because he meant to hurt her, but because certain things are really out of our control.

the growth and surge of love was perhaps the theme of this symphony.

he had always sought control, ever since that terrible night at sheesh mahal. maybe life meant to show him, ultimately we are not in control. especially before love.

"don't worry," the words were wrenched from him it seemed. everything will be alright. sab theek ho jayga.

kya theek ho jayga, asr? what will be okay, asked la mystified. he is taken aback, he is lost.

at the hospital, khushi and payal show their upbeat nature. khushi has absolute faith there will be "chamkatkar", a miracle and babu ji will be fine. these are girls with innocence, work ethic, faith and hope... not willing to act helpless because they are girls. i liked this portrayal of women in ipk. a lot. they may be traditional and not brought up with a lot of wealth in a huge cosmopolitan city, but khushi and payal are contemporary in their mind set. and strong.

"bahut acchhe insaan hain mr arnav singh raizada..." asr is a very good human being says the doctor, and khushi is with him again...

"asr, ittne upset kyun lag rahe ho..." why are you looking so worried asks la. a girl friend who cares, who doesn't want him to hurt... there was so much tenderness in this whole situation, between people who cared for each other, just that things did not go the way one thought they would... love came unasked and and asked for its place. was lovely the way it got resolved.

those who don't have parents, only they know when someone close is unwell how one feels... at that time you feel the need for someone's support... and writers again let di point asr in the right direction.

standing right there, his expressions growing dense, he ponders: that's what i couldn't give her... when she most needed support... she just needed to hear this much from me...

"wahi toh main usse de nahin paya... jab usse sahare ki sabse zyada zaroorat thi... usse bas itni si baat toh sunni thi mujh se."

barun sobti's voice is even more immersed in thoughts of the girl who eats pakoda while sitting in a ditch, the girl who never gives up, that irritating girl for whom he is losing control again and again, he almost killed a man, the girl who came flying to him seeking a simple thing... and he couldn't give it to her.

it hurts arnav singh raizada that he could not help a girl who was so vulnerable. he could not help "khushi!"
toward the end of the episode they meet again, though they were never apart. she has just assured her father she and payal can manage everything. but she is just a young girl in a new city with only her salary to depend on for material needs. she is distraught. she needs the money now... a tiffin box of steel comes out as he watches her still anguished, unsure what he should do, perhaps just relieved to see her.

that box reminds me of the evening he gave her one with food and she stayed up for hours staring at it, wondering why the rakshas had done this for her.

the panic in her voice when she sees the amount on the check... how will she manage, why is it three thousand less, can't she give the "sarkar" its tax a bit later?

he walks away... but in her thoughts he stays... again he is walking away angry... can't he understand i need this...

she wants him to understand, she wants to run to him. he wants to comfort her, he wants to hold her... he cannot see her in this state and yet he doesn't put his arms around her...

why? both had asked of themselves. some day they will know.

that tear that had slipped out of khushi's eyes, the rage asr had felt when a man pushed her... in today's feelings shades of those inimitable moments. inexplicable actions and emotions, each one beautiful and telling. especially the rushing of river to her ocean, her shore... and his inability to put his arms around her and hold her against his heart. this is inspired writing and acting. years later some of these things will stay with us, even if we haven't seen a single shot in a long long time.


kyun humey sar rakhne ke liye unki kandhe ki zaroorat padi?kyun usske ek ek aansoo mujhe iss tarah...?