and the pati talk begins, making my heart thud in curiously precarious ways. never knew the word pati as in husband could sound so potent. and manwa lenge? breathing really gets difficult. that the whole thing would turn so intimate who knew. heady, intoxicating really. again the flinging of tea coffee fluids, but this time there's no escape, it's straight to besharmi.
something utterly animal about this episode. a man, a male, out to find and catch and tame his woman. his desire stalked the frame, filled the air. and she was not immune to it... in fact in her a return fire and prowl, but there's the business of being man and woman and who will tame whom in the day.
in front of everyone else, she is only and absolutely achchi bahu but with him, just look the flashing eyes, the tense body, the repartee of escaping explosive desire.
he is besharam because he wants to be, she is besharam even though she things she doesn't want to be.
the subtext is rich and bristling, flaming with a seething need for each other.
i absolutely was fascinated by the way attraction was felt and explored in ipk. starting with a meeting under fairly unlikely though not impossible circumstances, where there was that initial friction and a spark... we saw how a sensing and a homing in between a man and a woman grew through many stages. through denial, anger, hatred, love... and how this desire took root and deepened. i don't think i have ever seen such a realistic portrayal of this essential aspect of romance/attraction/love, whatever we may call it, anywhere else.
during diwali, an animal desire had broken bounds and escaped unbidden into the night, catching both i its thrall and sending their world to unknown places. since then many things have happened, and like the circles of diwali diyas, ring after ring has been crossed.
at every step, a new depth of need of yearning of becoming part of each other.
now so enmeshed are they that she raves and rants at him perhaps without even realising how much it shows her comfort with him, her claiming of him, her pretty much taking her right.
i really don't want to hear what she said today, just feel her and the pulsating want in her whose first and most telling sign perhaps was the smile that pranced to her lips when she found him in the cupboard.
i don't think asr would ever do such a thing, but if it released that feeling... the moment worked. for a second, there was no one else in the room, just he, she and that thing between them.
of course, she had to fight it off and pretend it was not the case.
but today, he is not letting up.
the scent of a woman, his woman... intoxicates, he wants reach, to taste, to devour, to get high, go all the way.
be her pati.
i have no doubt as to what he meant by that.
"main kya kar sakta hoon yeh tum achchi tarah janti ho," you know well what i can do.
"aap badtameezi kar rahe hain," you are being insolent...
"badtameezi toh maine abhi shuru bhi nahin ki hai, khushi kumari gupta," i haven't even started being insolent, khushi kumari gupta.
very interestingly, he does not add singh raizada. she as she is, will be taken by him, as he is. two people, in a relationship that goes beyond a socially sanctioned one.
"aap aisa nahin kar sakte," you can't do this.
"kyun nahin kar sakta," why can't i?
eyes on eyes.
"biwi ho tum meri," you are my wife. husky, suggestive, possessive, playful voice.
"my legally wedded wife," a point is underscored. you are mine and i can do what i intend doing. his relentless bid to appease her and failing again and again and again seems to have aroused something in him. enough of the game, he is going for her... and she must give in.
predatory, cat like movement. a leap and pounce in it. that was the only thing i liked about that cupboard scene, the jumping out... there's a jungle in the story today.
now chil the kite brings home the night
that mang the bat sets free -
the herds are shut in byre and hut,
for loosed till dawn are we.
this is the hour of pride and power,
talon and tush and claw.
oh, hear the call! - good hunting all
that keep the jungle law.
~ rudyard kipling, jungle book ~
right in the middle of the day, the jungle grew wild in shantivan, the forest of peace. there was going to be hunting today.
oh the fingers grasping her hair, and that trapped look in her eyes.
tell me, she was not aroused, didn't want him.
soft threatening caressing voice, purring:
"yehi nahin... main aur bhi bahut kuch kar sakta hoon," not just this, i can do many other things. exactly, and no, these things don't involve being "good" in any way... he doesn't mean he can do arati with her or wait to open her karwa chauth vrat... he means a very basic and real business of being her man. he means to go for the kill, get her into bed... make passionate love, lie without barriers in each others arms...
"aapne humse zabardasti shadi ki..." you forced me to marry you, ah so now we're talking, the angry wife, extremely upset with his mention of the contract, shows her anger. yet, does she want him to leave her?
"aapko apna pati nahin mante hain," i don't accept you as my husband... isn't she provoking him, almost baiting?
"theek hai... toh ab manwa lete hain," alright, so let's get you to accept... can't exactly translate, but between the suggestion of that word, "manwana", and the grate and thick sensual in the voice, i am feeling dizzy almost.
aside: of late, i am hearing a lot of girls say christian grey reminds them of asr. well, asr never had to even take off his tie to transport everyone to a goosebump spreading, ears heating up, shoulders going warm place. that ab manwa lete hain... i am totally defenceless before that.
poor khushi. but wasn't she just lapping it up. the she cat who wants her mate to heel... to accept her dominance over him? worship her? i know i know, she can never say that, but what do her eyes, her body, her fight say?
he was going to kiss her, enough of time waste. she wanted him... yet. of course hp came.
tell them we are coming, said the irritated but unperturbed stalking, prowling hunter and grabbed his prey harder.
hp grabbed the door, tried to look unfazed and fled.
she whirled around and flounced off.
oh look on his face as he walked out... just the right touch of male raunch.
and yet, in the middle of all that, he noticed the marks he had made on her delicate skin. filled him with remorse, and further stoked his need... how badly arnav singh raizada wanted to make khushi kumari gupta his wife. in that intensity i felt a purity, an almost eternal beautiful thing.
"lagi tumhe?" you got hurt?
"haan lekin aap se chot khane ki aadat hai hamey," yes, but i am used to getting hurt by you, said she. fiesty spirited. aroused?
frisky playful moments on the steps. he will make her accept him.
"manogi... tum mujhe apna husband man logi," you will accept me as your husband, he was sure...
i won't.
you will.
"manogi," he repeated... intimate, close, gentle yet purposeful
"main manwaunga tumhe," i will make you accept, again that heady use of "manwana". there's pride and power there, there's talent, tush and claw too.
"aajkal aap bahut sapne dekhne lage hain," you've started dreaming a lot these days, she taunted him, using words he had said a while ago.
he barricaded her, with his arms on the walls behind, as he had way back on a day she had he didn't have it in him to marry and make that commitment. to day, the man who would be pati no matter what, seems to be telling her something about commitment, in his heartstopping way.
he has no doubt, she will come to him...
"daudti hui meri baahon mein aaogi, khushi kumari gupta singh raizada," you'll come running into my arms. oh the voice.
she does look helpless... and make s yet another bid to survive the hunt,
the day that happens, i'll accept you as my husband.
"deal?" oh the killer look and question. this is "lagi shart" in a new form, but if that time it was for akiss, this time he won't stop till she is all and entirely his.
the really crazy hazy heady days of pati and haq are here. i was floored by the acting and the feelings it set off. while the sensual play was highlighted, it never felt hollow or just about the skin. a touch of something sacred, beautiful also permeated... following the hunter faithfully and touching the hunted, no matter how hard she tried to deny it.
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thoughts
*that purane moments, old moments thing... was it an attempt by the writers to reawaken the interest in us by recalling the most wonderful days of ipk? not khushi, but we perhaps were the main target of this tactic.
* enjoyed the clear headed and responsible assessment of nani's even though she was perturbed... only shyam is to blame for the situation at hand, no one else. later asr will take a similar view of his dad and say, only he was to blame... he was the married man, he ruined two women's lives. i liked this similarity of approach, strength, fearlessness, intelligence and cussed holding onto life no matter what of nani and grandson.
* some of the dialogues, especially delivered the way they were, had me rofling and guffawing at once.
~ mere saath agra chalo, taj mahal dekhlena. come to agra with me, see the taj...
~ she: safai karni hai, have to do cleaning.
he: apni dimag ki, of your brain.
~ suna maine, i heard that.. his off screen retort.
there was banter and delightful zing. she would have to cave in at some point. maybe that's why she decided to run away.
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Never seen a review so intense.You did a fab job.
ReplyDeletethank you so much. i was away for some time, just came here and saw your comment, delighted you enjoyed the read.
DeleteAbsolutely brilliant stuff.
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