Tuesday, 23 May 2017

the night khushi...


21 september was a special day... from crooner 1.42, jab tak hai jaan, page 3, my first thoughts on her saying yes, and him opening a dori finally.

i loved this episode... the dance added to the feeling of immersion in each other.



i knew she'd do it, and indeed she did.
to the towel dancer and his one true lover.

you are right, priya, that needs some recovering from and no amount of replay is enough.




edit
priya, just read your beautiful update. rich with quotes and thoughts, real and in love. my thoughts still floating. sorry, will update monday morning.

will leave a quote here, that struck a chord:
"do you want me to tell you something really subversive? love is everything it's cracked up to be. that's why people are so cynical about it. it really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. and the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more."
~~~ erica jong ~~~


update
it all came together finally. under the stars and revolving planets, floating upon an inky blue ocean in the night, nestling on a bed of glimmering mother of pearl, two lovers; each the other one's pearl, the ocean crashed on the shore, the shore undulated and raced to merge with the water. take me.



what sound was that?
i turn away into the shaking room.
what was that sound that came in on the dark?
what is this maze of light it leaves us in?
what is this stance we take,
to turn away and then turn back?
what did we hear?

it was the breath we took when we first met.
listen. it is here.


~~~ harold pinter ~~~


yes, it was there, their very first crashing upon each other; a girl in the wrong place at the wrong time losing her balance, falling into arms that were not wanting to be there, shock and surprise and something else in that breath of first collision. what was that something else? today it found its answer.



she had found her balance, and the arms now (as then too) did want her. and only her. nothing else but her. i understand, take me.


priya, i am still dizzy really. delirious and yet in a funny kind of calm. guess this is the effect of coming upon real beauty. how not to think about something that brings us to that. true, the hindi serial "elements" are too pronounced at times, even unbearable. but every now and then along comes magic, that restores our senses, resets our sensitivity, makes us feel the things that matter. makes us believe, "fairytales can come true, it can happen to me, it can happen to you..."

 
"dance is a vibration of the spirit that stirs the body to move when music is being played. by that definition, it is not unreasonable to conclude that if the quantum universe is made of music, then we are all dancing right now." ~~~~ lar lubovitch


there was so much dance last week. a love story was told, a proposal made, a lover was punished. as we laughed and hooted and swayed and tapped our feet, as we dropped our inhibitions, opened up and relaxed, the real and last dance started on a quiet note in a secret place, under the stars, above the earth, in a space beyond the grasp. every move was natural as though they'd practiced for years. when he arrested the motion of her arm reaching for a remote, held her hand and brought it to his lips, why did my heart thud. what did i know and how? somehow, one knew this time the dance would reach its climax, there would be no rude interruptions.



but before that started, she finally took as hers what he'd been practically thrusting upon her since the night of a terrible fight. huq. it was his way of saying take me. claim me as yours and yours alone. tonight when he asked: why did you come here? she looked into his eyes and said: because only i have huq over you, no one else. what would you have done if you'd found another woman, sorry chudail, here? i'd have killed her, but before that i'd have pulled her hair.
at last at last khushi was feeling, all her feelings. her love, her lust, and lo and behold, her hate. it was time to feel the truth. (kalpana's storyboard "kiss me" had the most interesting tying up of these words and it just stayed in me. thanks, kalpana, hope you don't mind the borrowing.)


he wanted to show her something. their own galaxy, neatly contained in a room, or was it just limited to that.
there he laid her down and held her in his arms to tell her she was everything to him. what, she wondered, their parents must be talking about, looking up at the stars he'd fetched for her, just as she'd said to her mother he would all those months ago. oh they'd be happy to see their children had found true love.


true love.


but how do you know it's true? he asked. she knew. a convulsive move toward him, arm reaching out and wrapping around, as she recalled his being away. they remembered a conversation outside the barrier of time and space. "hum done... kitne ajeeb hain." ajeeb. his word for her, now his word for both of them. is he relieved to rediscover his ability to be "ajeeb"? strange are the ways of love.


somewhere along all this talk and play, their breath grew thicker, warmer, a wanting to be one in them. he broached the subject, ever so gently, holding himself back. i'm sorry i know, you don't want to... not before the wedding. she stopped him with a kiss, with a arching of her body, with a few words. i understand, i trust you. the winds sang, make love to me.


khushi let go of the hold of the outer world and acknowledged an inner truth. she loved this man, this man loved her, without limit, without barriers, with all of him, she trusted that. that's what made union with him right, correct. he had taken her as his wife on the basis of their wedding, she accepted him as her true husband tonight. brilliant bend in the story. nayi soch finds place at last.


the most lyrical yet completely natural movements of body mind heart and soul followed. who had thought of this? how could anything be so beautiful? take off the bangles, remove the earrings, untie a string, let the woman in black lose herself completely on this inky blue ocean of love. let her lover merge himself again and again in her. for this is love, real, ethereal, surreal. this is true love.


ek.


truth is one. aaj se hum ek hain. hamari dhakane ek ho jati hai.




three memories (there are many, but these i wanted to share):

1. in crooner 98, priya, on the day of their fight, you'd chosen two insightful storm quotes.


"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 s 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." ~~~~  murakami


"there's always another storm." ~~~~ maria v snyder


in my post i'd referred to that: murakami's storm leaves you changed every time. snyder's storm is always there. as one ends the other comes. sometimes there's a little respite, happiness, giggles, koochie coo, rain dance. but the storm does return. yet through it all love asserts, ascends, attains. you give each other sukh but also dukkha. khushi will too, i am sure, if this love is to go where it can. one day your feelings transcend the petty limits of earthly hurt and pain, crosses boundaries you never thought you could, and reaches for hamesha. you no longer need to say it. you become part of each other. not getting carried away. promise.


2. in crooner 1.2, the night khushi didn't accept asr's birthday wish, your quote:
"it reminds me of that old joke - you know, a guy walks into a psychiatrist's office and says, hey doc, my brother's crazy! he thinks he's a chicken. then the doc says, why don't you turn him in? then the guy says, i would but i need the eggs. i guess that's how i feel about relationships. they're totally crazy, irrational, and absurd, but we keep going through it because we need the eggs." ~~~~ woody allen


i wrote in my post: how come wise, deep beauty is sleeping, not letting her shaitan feel a bit better. he's been trying desperately since that fight and forcing her to remember the contract. disturbed me. but no matter. priya, thanks for that woody allen quote, we're all in it for the eggs really. i want it, mr raizada wants it, and something tells me sleeping beauty will wake up soon and ask for an omelette.


3. after the thursday episode where the towel dancer floored us, i'd written: "i do have a crib i confess. i am not connecting to khushi as well as i want to. is it the writing that's making her tad too strident and sp bahu? or is it performance? or both? no idea. gut again. khushi kumari gupta is far more than this. i hope the problem corrects soon. asr and kkgsr need the other to be completely themselves." and the next day, khushi just got it all back, i was lost in her. had been so wanting to see her looking gorgeous with minimum fuss. and there she emerged in her lbd. has a black blouse ever been this sexy and sat on such an innocent bare back. the straight long hair minus bouffant, the silver touch on arms and ears, the bindi, absolutely alluring. both times asr chose her clothes, he did a pretty neat job. fire her designer, employ her husband instead. her huq.


right from that moment on june 6, 2011 when they first set eyes on each other, we've been coming toward last friday. one long, unbroken dori gathering pearls, one by one, ah so many many memories. now that a string is untied, a string is done, and the next one begins. an extraordinary tale of love, be prepared for giddiness, dizziness, giggling, laughter, heart thudding, pillow clutching, and tears.


hamari dhakane ek ho jati hai. 


it was the breath we took when we first met. 


listen. it is here.

 









......................
fanfiction



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