she was the most gorgeous mami ji i ever saw, that she the sanskari one made a good bit of fun of her elders, her sis's ma-in-law to be and their one of a kind buaji, i was completely willing to overlook because she was really and utterly funny...
otherwise would this man have looked thus.
while one left me rofling... no i wasn't holding my stomach, i just let it all hang outiya, mami ji of the khoosie bitiya kind... the other made my breath hitch and go haywire with this intense desire of his that keeps pulling him to strange places. sometimes her bathroom, sometimes the store room (oh that hot humid sunday), and very often the kitchen (now why this kitchen thing all the time, home fires etc., back of director's mind?) and there he went as though drawn by a string, then all that red rose, albeit, made of felt and brought on by a mami act. was that the reason the wonderfuliya act in the very first place? apart from a good dose of laughter, it would bring a red rose and two lovers into the same frame? maybe i ponder too much.
but felt like that to me, and felt good, rose being pretty loaded with reference, memory, meaning in ipk.
164 started with an irate khushi asking asr why he has picked up the phone. madam, it's his home...
"hum nanhe ji se baat karna chahte hain..." i want to talk to nanhe ji...
he's about to say something but holds back... in these little moments so much being said.
"nanhe yahan nahin hai, ab tum meri baat su..." nk aint's hee, now you liste-
he's been trying to tell her something for a while...
but she cuts in... stopping him, saying she knows all this is his evil ploy to distract her, to stop her from winning.
haar jeet, losing and winning, the theme continues.
listen, khushi... he tries to get into the conversation but with a "samjhe aap" and a "hum jeetenge" i'll win, she ends the chat.
we see a bit of manorama mami's insecurities re new daughter-in-law, vis a vis her "posting" in rm. but her son assures her this ain't no "demosson," it's in fact a promotion... to ma-in-law status while maintaining her elder daughter-in-law place in the fam. funny as it all seems, the entire situation reflects some real emotions and fears that accost many of us. and oh kitchen politics are far more lethal than ordinary running the government sort of politics... no doubt about it.
then all are off to gh for intense gift exchange, and surprise, both asr and shyam want to tag along. asr mainly because he remembers her talking rudely to him and insisting she'd win... how dare she. actually, the man is madly jealous by now but pretending huh, never. and shyam because he can't help but be a slimeball; what an opportunity to let bua ji know she can't be rid of him so easily. she has held him by the scruff and thrown him out... twitch twitch, smile creepily... he'll show her.
khushi and payal are much into mami day, natraj ki murti enters dialogue and... ting tong.
looks like the lord of dance is here! at the door are two people, thankfully khushi's twin is lost in her own world with her perfumewa. man in consternation, then cracking up.
another moment to be looped eternally.
jumping to, drawing room at gh. gifts are being given and taken... nautanki khushi is yet to make an entry. some people are impatient. bua ji calls out," titaliya, chai bani ki nahin..." butterfly girl, is the tea ready? man observes keenly, something brewing, hotter than tea.
he gets up... "kaa hua babua..." what happened, dear boy? "wo mujhe paani chahiye." er i want water.
butterflies. the man is desperate to meet the woman, he of course believes it's to tell her off. possibly one of his earliest moves as callow lover boy, he's come here looking for her, when he knows where she is, he has to get there. there's that need, palpable.
"nahin nahin nahin that's ok, main chala jaaoonga," no no, that's ok, i'll go. he walks off before anyone can stop him.
khushi is getting rid of mami things, praying to dm, save me... a hand comes and takes the red rose clip off her bun.
she swivels around as her hair cascades down... the first time he's done that. such an intense sensuality in the moment... on a computer, in a 6 inch star player screen what i'm seeing is making my shoulders go hot, my ears burn, causing extreme acidity too.
and that red rose in his hand...
silver smooth voice... out to make a point,
"actually, main bhi lucknow se hoon," actually, i too am from lucknow... awww.
"aap yahan," you, here? she's flustered.
"i said, main bhi lucknow se hoon..."
"haan, toh?" yeah, so?
"toh tumhari himmat kaise hui meri baat poori hue bina jaane ki," so how dare you leave before i've said what i had to...
she turns around without giving an answer.
"natak mat karo... pehle mera phone kaat diya... phir maine baat karne ki koshish ki toh..." don't put on an act, you disconnected my call, then when i tried to talk...
someone calls off screen.
she goes to take the tea...
"enough." clenched teeth.
again that thing between them even when they are far apart.
"ab sirf main baat karoonga aur tum sunogi..." now i'll talk, you'll listen.
he insists their side will win, she refutes... asr music coming on.
"tumhe itna yakin hai ki tum nahin harogi?" you're so sure you won't lose?
the battle of words continues, while their desire have their own chat, sotto voce... you can't hear it, but feel it you will.
"itna confidence?" so much confidence?
a little advance... retreat.
"aazma ke dekh lijiye..." try it out and see, she's not giving in.
"socho, khushi kumari gupta, agar kismat ne saath nahin diya, toh" think, kkg, if lady luck is not with you... he's walked steadily toward her, pushing her to the wall almost...
awful sexual tension, on the surface in him, beneath it in her.
"agar hum haar gaye toh..." she's a little nervous? if i lose...
"agar tum haar gayi toh?" if you lose..? the puma is closing in on the prey.
kkg asr have already taken position, the dance is about to begin. again. and this time it's a smouldering, passionate tango. i want to win you. i want to defeat you.
i want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
i want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and i pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of quitratue.
~~~ pablo neruda, sonnet xi ~~~
......................
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