something's cooking in the kitchen while in the drawing room gifts are being served up.
bua ji is forced to give shyam his gift, and not losing any opportunity to bait her, now that she's committed the cardinal sin of threatening him, he smiles and says with simple sweetness, "isske liye aap logo ka bahut bahut dhanyavaad..." many thanks for this. everyone loved shyam, even the astute asr, the clearly ugly creature had a chameleon like quality and could show only his decent, not wealthy but educated side at will and stay in character without missing a beat. the one knowledgeable in the shastras was the heel, while the one who challenged the very practice of worshiping with fanfare and rituals was the straightforward man, one you could trust, one with a deep conscience, who even had the grace to admit his mistake and apologise if necessary. always an interesting part of this tale. never judge a book by its cover seems to be an underlying message here.
mami in the meantime was out to calm her nerves with a spot of satisfying bitchiness, "bahut hi halka phulka hai..." seems very light, she says of the necklace given to her.
but nani, always the gracious elder, loves her saree and di her thaal, despite mami asking for "return iskeme" for this ordinary looking plate. bua ji says this is puja ki thaliya... from "nukhlau" (that flipping of consonants so very real) ki khaas devi maiyya mandir.
all are trying to save the situation as buaji and garima ji look more and more perturbed at mami's abject rudeness.
in the kitchen, the heat is being turned up slowly to get the right flavours going.
khushi
says to win this challenge one needs talent, not money and power. and
pretty sure of herself in that department, she throws in ssome chillies,
"agar hum haar gaye hum wahi karenge jo aap kahenge..." if i lose i'll
do whatever you tell me to. bright eyed and super sure she is, gaining
strength, going about her work.
but music indicates this was an unwise move, the man is being challenged... he will counter with a twist of something tart.
but music indicates this was an unwise move, the man is being challenged... he will counter with a twist of something tart.
"humne apni zabaan di hai..." i've given my word, asserts the "hunar" girl... and an out of focus asr just behind her, camera framing them in an interesting visual clinch, begins to turn, the mischief in those eyes... he's getting ready for some fun... i want to win you, i want to defeat you...
she's all miss confidence, but he says he'll remember what she said, they'll speak about it on the day of the competition. well we were there that day... so whose haar was it, whose jeet. and who kept the lord of dance? and who was the lord of the dance.
as he's about to go. he stops, draws back, lids guard eyes for a scheming moment then he turns to her, a deliberate question, "kuch bhi karogi, right?" you'll do anything, right?
i will not let my mind go to places it must stay away from...
she is worried but, "kuch bhi..." anything. oh she's in a mood to rush in where angels fear to tread. wonder why, wonder why? why this caution to the wind attitude? do you also just want to win exactly like that man looking sexy and smug... or do you want to lose. be vanquished. be won.
he would have gone, but she can't seem to let him, she wants her piece of him too,"aur agar aap haar gaye, toh?" and if you lose, then?
pause.
"agar aap ki kismat aapka saath nahin diya, toh?" if your kismet lets you down, then?
a game this is... and exciting, just when you thought one had given up...
"main nahin haroonga," i will not lose, a smooth confident statement. asr notes jump in assertively with a "what the..." at her temerity.
"aur mujhe kismat par bharosa nahin hai, kyunki main apni kismat khud banata hoon." and i have no confidence in kismet, because i make my own kismet. he took it nice and easy on that sentence, enjoying it, knowing he believes in it, not allowing anyone to mess with this belief of his.
i was grateful to ipk for not taking this away from him. in a world going haywire around us, where with age you realise there's not much you can trust, where practically anything can happen, we have to find something we can hang on to no matter what, at least that has been my experience. for some that is their faith, the belief in the eternal and that is how they live through it all. for some it is their faith in their own action, only that gives them strength, purpose, validity; helps them deal with this life. it defines them; neither way is the only way; both or some other too will work, in my eyes, as long as it is you. this was asr... let it be.
there was a certain elegance in the devi maiyya loving kkg and the make my own destiny mr raizada finding the immortal connection we humans call love. and living out a certain truth a young woman with not the most "ideal" ideas by tv serial standards had uttered... pyaar sabse bada hota hai. love is the greatest of all. that idea, i at least have found no reason to challenge or doubt.
kkg takes him on. she says, well he hadn't managed to make his destiny on several occasions and lists them much as he had reminded her of all the things she'd done which she'd said she never would.
he says ok, i accept your challenge, he'll do "kuch bhi," anything (gah, mind, please stop boggling) should he lose. okay, kkg, what will you make him do? fry jalebi? dance towel dance? or...
they shake on the shart.
scene moves to a tense drawing room. i often wonder why everyone keeps quiet while mami is being rude... then akash the husband saves the day... just a while back he was akash the son, now this. now this? his mother is shattered. payal's fate is sealed it seems.
between akash and his kitchen loving cousin they point out the thaliya is from sterling industries, who only make things of the finest silver.
hai re copyright laws, what infringementiya.
that evening, a very worried khushi, quakes and thrills at the thought of losing, "tumhe nahin pata, jiji, agar woh laad governor jeet gaya toh humare liye saza hi hoa," you don't know, jiji, if that laad g wins, it'll be punishment for me.
it's the evening of sangeet at last.
dropping his mask for a bit, evil shyam makes his entry with bichhua in a box.
but the real bite is in three hot young men dressed in sangeet finery, coming down the stairs. what is with these stairs... you know in singapore, i often notice the escalator is a major necking place, furtive kisses and groping while you ride a staircase with your lover in front the whole world, at rm, this static staircase seems to be imbued with some power, never is a walk down them simply that. even shyam has a certain look whenever he's anywhere near them.
"humare bhai kitne handsome lag rahe hain na..." our brothers are looking so handsome, aren't they? badi sayani anjali di voices the thought of half the female population of the planet.
look who is out to win tonight.
"akhir pote kisske hain," after all whose grandsons are they, says nani... that one is definitely the template for the super confident grandson. he's technically her "nati" daughter's son, considered just a little less important than "pota" son's son. but in another progressive cool move, ipk writers dispense with this distinction, and make all the three guys of the same generation (one not even related to nani by blood), grandsons... the same sort.
nani ji is in form tonight. as mami ji gets all dramatic about the pain of losing bitwa to new wife, she reminds her tartly that she realises only a mother can know that.
shyam carefully transfers the scorpion to a red mithai box, thinking it can be left there for a bit as he complies with his insistent wife's request to join the family photograph session. in the usual way, this goes on longer than anticipated... different poses, styles, combinations... his eyes dart toward his little black number all the while. at last he can get away.
but the red mithai dabba seems to have disappeared.
the setting up of the scorpion confusion was neat i thought. a time consuming photography session is exactly the kind of thing that happens during such occasions just before guests arrive. Servants organising the place, do often move things away at the last minute in a bid to get the venue looking good.
asr was not in a smiling mood (is he ever), but di makes chhotey smile with papad ka tukda... what a khadoos.
and yes, "we have to have to win, warna..."
No comments:
Post a Comment