a tight brief, which doesn't give you everything you want often produces the best of things. it creates necessity... the thing that stokes the thinking, the imagination, and gives birth to something new, beautiful. a thing born to serve a purpose but sometimes far exceeding its need it becomes a want... a desire... like this enchanting set piece in the middle of the everyday, the ordinary, in an episode of a serial.
had barun not gone away for a bit. had there not been panic about how to keep the show going with the hero not around. had there not been a need to keep the love story alive. had there been no hair tearing about the famous chemistry gone missing. had there not been heads wondering if they'd roll in case trp went down.
but there had been all of that. and show had to go on. writers had to create "tracks" that worked. their only key, the female lead... asr had already acknowledged to himself his feelings for khushi, but writers had still not worked out khushi's realisation. i've heard ved raj mention this and how challenging it was to find the right moment and method for this.
the hero is not there. he cannot be interacted with in the "real" world. perhaps that was the gate through which they neatly stepped into another space, a bit of surreality, the sphere of imagination. kidnap is drizzled with dreams, reveries, telepathy, spaces where the imagination goes and claims real estate... beyond the restrictions and barriers of the three dimensions. in a thought world, sometimes far more potent than the "things" world.
two episodes back khushi had dreamed of him and had a lover's premonition. she ran frantically in search of the man she loved, becoming his woman while he was far away. maybe he heard her? maybe he called her?
today something inanimate yet always a part of her emotions, a sign of her in fact, a little orange swirl, crunchy outside, soft and sweet inside, her jalebi, it took her straight to him and her longing, her memory, her first declaration of love... she made it to herself. because it was she who needed to know it maybe, before she could tell anyone else.
and perhaps the most lovely and enduring and insightful soliloquy i have ever heard in a serial, i got to hear... the first time, i remember feeling dumbstruck, how beautiful sanaya's voice, the pace, the afternoon light, the tumble of memories, the exquisite words one leading to the next and then the talking to hawaein. just a touch of sixties' filminess, and a forlorn, filmi girl's tete a tete with an emotion, in her way. not cutesy, more romantic heroine in feel.
she had said baat aapki hai to him at the airport but without pondering as to why, it had come rushing out of her when she could find no way of convincing him. but today she entered that feeling.
the realisation is massive, its language had to be different from the chal khushi chal sort of inner chats she has. the story of asr and khushi started on a strange evening, in these months they have moved from the first meeting, always significant in a major love saga, through many layers to the heart level. to dhadkan, to saans. but the story continues deeper... maybe to soul, to our astral being, to an aspect of the human beyond the material. and that is possible only in a different space. in a different metre. in a different rhythm.
khushi is missing asr constantly and very badly, it's wearing her down. she feels distracted. the loss of the papers worries her further. she wants him back... but he is not there.
after a long time we see her making her jalebis. you almost feel relief for her. she is trying not to think of him... the memory of that beautiful first meeting comes by... and then the dreadful last one.
"kuch toh kahin galat hai..." something is wrong somewhere... something is not adding up... why would he message her and not di... an uncanny sense of mishap, she worries.
the mountains of jalebi reach the table. once way back she had been worried and made "arnav" jalebi... that was then, the still light and fun filled days of ipk with its entrancing and hot nok jhoks. but now the jalebis will take us to another world... she has made the whole lot with less sugar for her sugar free man. he is not here.
naturally a bit of leg pulling ensues, and the girl who can handle such things quite easily, just can't take it and runs away to her room... where she feels his presence and his absence both.
in nani's words we are told that she is in a different mind state... her memories bother her... unhen chhotey ki yaad satawat hai.
and khushi runs to her room, locks the door, weeps remembering the man she had fed jalebi to one day... her mate, whom she did hate. she goes to the cupboard and something catches something, next thing, pearls are dropping and tuhi bata mere maula fades in...
this nudging of emotion, memory by inanimate objects was always interesting in ipk. how adept her dupatta at talking to him, reaching him. now it's pearls and jalebi that talk to her, guide her to her feelings.
that very first time, he'd snapped the dori, she recalls.
kuch rishte ajeeb hi dor mein bandhe hote hai...
some relationships are tied with the strangest of threads...
starts the
soliloquy in sanaya's impeccable, strong yet rich with emotion delivery.
yes, the snapping of dori was actually the tying of a thread... which
brought them together instead of tearing them asunder. ajeeb it was...
strange... as things in life often are.
takrar se shuru hotey hain... starts with a clash. he slaps money into her palm and turns away with a sardonic smile, amused she'd dared to tell asr that she'd pay for something...
with every line the memories pour and drench... in the guest house he slams her against a drum, in the rain he comes running and saves her.
some relationships are tied by a strange string
they start with a clash... they grow in the shade of hatred...
they fall, they crash, but they remain
the hatred keeps on growing and the knot
becomes even more firm
so much... that one day even hate shies away
from growing any more... and that relationship remains
only as a tie... but only of hatred.
sometimes it feels as if in this realm of hatred
there's something that says to me
this unheard, unknown, unspoken feeling
give it but a chance...
but a relationship whose cornerstone is hatred
to expect anything of it
wouldn't it be naivety and nothing else
perhaps this naivety i did act with
otherwise why despite so much hatred
i think of you...
why do i fight and quarrel with you
yet after you leave i look longingly for your return
speak to the winds of you...
even in a bad translation there is power in those words.
takrar se shuru hotey hain... starts with a clash. he slaps money into her palm and turns away with a sardonic smile, amused she'd dared to tell asr that she'd pay for something...
with every line the memories pour and drench... in the guest house he slams her against a drum, in the rain he comes running and saves her.
some relationships are tied by a strange string
they start with a clash... they grow in the shade of hatred...
they fall, they crash, but they remain
the hatred keeps on growing and the knot
becomes even more firm
so much... that one day even hate shies away
from growing any more... and that relationship remains
only as a tie... but only of hatred.
sometimes it feels as if in this realm of hatred
there's something that says to me
this unheard, unknown, unspoken feeling
give it but a chance...
but a relationship whose cornerstone is hatred
to expect anything of it
wouldn't it be naivety and nothing else
perhaps this naivety i did act with
otherwise why despite so much hatred
i think of you...
why do i fight and quarrel with you
yet after you leave i look longingly for your return
speak to the winds of you...
even in a bad translation there is power in those words.
why, indeed, do such relationships not end not break...
the memories touch points of pain and connection, he is pulling her, he is dragging her into the temple, he is marrying her... and as she droops slowly, staring at the poolside where so much has transpired, where the winds possibly know him so she chats with them... this ethereal journey to the land of imagination unfolds
the four layers of: sanaya, her voice, tuhi bata, flashbacks and yes that emptiness, worked so well to paint an evocative canvas.
shyam and the daal sequence mirrored that lovely asr eating hot daal just to show her scene. now shyam in a distorted reflection of it. disgusting. was there really any need to up the lascivious lechery aspect appealing to our sense of the sordid because they feared the appeal to our yearning for romance would be affected during this time.
well the brief was tight, sometimes, pretty bad creative ideas seem to come of it too.
there was a sweet scene at the beginning where khushi talks to shiv about keeping asr safe, etc., then requests him not to tell dm that she spoke to him... i mean dm might take it to heart and khushi can't afford that.. a need to call out to the deities ti protect hers, her saans is in this one after all.
i wrote this on facebook today, quite overwhelmed by the scene, thought i'd leave it here too.
ipk 3 anniversary month still on. i wanted to just sigh over the beautiful writing and delivery by a lovely inward sounding voice. i have no idea who actually wrote the "shayad yeh nadani" soliloquy of khushi's. what i do know is you rarely get such depth of thought and words on telly. not in a serial certainly. falling in love and romance are not arcane niche things, there's loads of writing on this... naturally to find what stands out is tough. so many things start sounding the same. here there was a brief to writer i think to establish love including the feeling of falling in it without using the word love... also to say it all using nafrat, the feeling clearly identified by the speaker. hate is akin to love, ha, mills and boon stuff, right... so how come these guys took it to this classic level. no hesitation, no yikes i will regret this later, but this is fantastic writing.
and sanaya irani, such flawless delivery. hits the insides makes you want to feel exactly those feelings. whoever directed her for this one... arshad k or lalit m... may jalebis rain on you all your life.
soliloquy brings back college and deep consternation... couldn't understand a thing most times. this one could understand and not understand too ha ha... too good.
kuch rishte ajeeb hi dor mein bandhe hote hai...
takrar se shuru hote hai... nafrat ke saaye mein panapte hai...
girte hai padte hai lekin qayam rehte hai
nafrat badti jati hai aur rishte ki gaath
aur geheri hoti jaati hai...
itni... ki ek din nafrat bhi aur badne se
sharma jati hai... aur woh rishta
sirf ek bandhan ban ke
reh jati hai...lekin sirf nafrat ka.
kabhi kabhi aisa lagta hai jaise
nafrat ke iss mahaul mein kuch toh hai...
jo humse kehta hai ki...
iss ansuni... anjani si... ankahe se ehsaas ko
ek mauqa toh do...
par jis rishte ki neev hi nafrat par rakhi hui ho
usse kuchh bhi umeed lagana
nadani nahin toh kya hota hai?
aur shayad yeh nadani hum kar baithe
warna kyun itne nafrat ke bawajud
hume aap ki yaad aa rahi hai?
kyun hum aap se ladte hain, jhagadte hain...
lekin apke jaane ke baad aap hi ki raah dekhte hain...
hawaon se baatein karte hain. just saw the episode again and was floored. hawaon se baatein... uff.
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