come to think of it, la's instinct was right. there was a thief abroad. to catch it however, you don't call the police. you don't call anyone. you simply watch and hope some day you'll be stolen from just like this, in broad daylight, before all eyes.
today, while the whole family got ready to celebrate the birth of one of the most intriguing figures of indian thought, the eclectic vishnu avatar, krishna, love came to take what it thought was its, without seeking any permission whatsoever. such is the way of love. and perhaps this insight into its nature gave birth to the rich and beloved love story of krishna with his paramour radha. curiously set outside the boundaries of conventional norms, the love of the two, who met as children, separated, married other people, but continued to be lovers taking this emotion to its highest and most breathlessly immortal extent, this tale of prem, is sublime and so complete, it never occurs to most of us to turn around and say, "hain? how come"? even though many of us hear while growing up, that radha was krishna's mami.
the other love that comes to mind when gopal is mentioned is that of his mother's for him and his for his mother. his adopted mother... yashoda. i get goosebumps even thinking of this relationship. the many questions and playful love seeking of the little nand kishore is subject of lovely songs, stories, dances, paintings, and a part of growing up, grand mother's tales, memories. my mother's generic name for all of us siblings was, yes, "gopal." of course, she had to be kinda pleased with you to call you that.
both these loves were there today. as asr's eyes told many things at the mention of his mother, and again as he looked at khushi. he knew of that first love of his... it stayed in his heart, and in its intensity and purity it practically defied death. a son's love as full as a mother's.
his feelings for khushi, on the other hand, he was not really aware of, yet they were clearly in place, and love was quietly stealing his heart and giving it to a girl with a smile in her eyes, a happy giving heart who nonetheless had only the most bitter words for him on her lips. but what was in her heart? ha, there again the thief was up to its tricks. the clever cosmic lover had taught love well.
did someone who grew up in a very krishna environment write this tale? some day, if i get a chance, would love to find out from the creators how much of their own beliefs and desires and myths seeped into ipk.
another beautiful thing, story always moves in two layers, sometimes more. like a river. the surface is visible, flowing in a particular direction, but below it is another story rippling, gurgling, playing with thoughts, jumping over memories, going to meet the ocean and become part of its being.
the second underlying story was my killer today. as always it was short, pithy, and a complete knock out.
started with a prologue. he came down the stairs as his sister walked up to him with a dejected air.
in an instant he knew why. jeeja ji. khushi was teaching la to set up the birth of krishna tableau. he turned hearing her voice... looked at her and...
hey hey... the beautiful music device that hints at the state of his mind. what's happening to him? this call...
"tumhe yaad hai chhotey...?"
his sister recalled the time as a child he'd put glue in the cucumber which cradled baby krishna and he was stuck there. ah so asr had done this to bal gopal? maybe that's why he's planned such sweet revenge?
how angry maa was that day.
his eyes which were on khushi, came in a fluid motion to di, and then got lost in the memory of his first true love. struck me as interesting that shift of feelings. as though there was a connection there. his love for khushi and his love for ma. much later, sitting in a garden dedicated to his mother he would make her his wife, his ma's bahu, that is all the ritual he needs.
"dant hi nahin, maar bhi padi thi."
not just a scolding, got a beating too. touching clean delivery. eyes remember, caress and feel, then come back to reality, "meeting hai..." got a meeting, got to go. the little eye movements had said much. somehow i felt janmashtami is particularly painful for him, he just misses his mum. which is why, he'd rather stay away.
as he walks out, she sees him. and in classic khushi vein, delivered with sanaya's talent for funny, she goes in her head,"laad governor kahin ka, hoonh, pata nahin kis kis ko dara ke aa raha hai... aur kiss kiss ko daante ja raha hai..." laad gov, wonder who all he has scared and who else he is off to scare. just before this he was particularly nasty to her, calling her a gold digger again. but notice how, she never takes the awful things he says that seriously. why? is it because her heart hears the unsaid, and doesn't get so freaked out? and then of course, there's her typical fending off of the blues by catching some fun and throwing it on the gloom and doom. lovely dialogue, from the talented mr kevaliya (or whoever wrote this one), naughty those 4 "kisses" in the sentence.
he looks at her. and all that flows in him is a feeling... its mesenger, rabba vey.
"bye" says he softly to di, his mind still soaked in memory. me dead.
a little kurta giving and not really taking, as always, with di.
he again looks at her, then leaves.
krishna is being set up. or is he setting up his leela? his game?
the story.
"ek minute, nani."
he walked back into the scene amid turbulence. cops at the entrance, whole family standing there, tense. khushi has tears in her eyes. there was talk, some anger, some suave managing of the situation by the tycoon of raizada house, a "scene" superbly averted by the grandmother. she possibly had taught the tycoon many of his management skills and his straight forward, courageous handling of things, and bequeathed some stubbornness while at it. all that really registered was this.
(i had a feeling he knew she was at the centre of this fiasco.)
and then came poignant moments, not in some beautiful wood of vrindavan, right by the staircase at shantivan it took place.
he sees her wiping tears... she's turning, he pretends he didn't see a thing... walks away. rabba vey builds, he goes up the steps and stops, turning to look back.
a whole love story got told in those last few seconds of episode.
.............................
think the police could have caught this thief? anyway, some other prem kahanis from 69.
"payal ji, humne aapke banaye huye pede khay..."payal ji, i ate the sweets made by you... what he was saying really: you are the sweetest thing ever, when i see you my heart leaps up, other parts of body also do things. finally akash said something. and payal, isn't she a little bit more bold though than him, gave him this intense look.
bua and mami stole a few moments of lau with some trading of insults and lakshmi talk. their cupid is the goat for sure. missed kaal, bet that has major meaning. "ah ee ghar mein toh bahut jeeb jantoon hain," bua ji's yes this house has many animals, had me giggling. my family and other animals and durrell came to mind
my super love for nani grew. what a woman. when she took guarantee of khushi, oh the look on the innocent young girl's face. and that stylish handling of situations... with authority but with grace too. the way of the previous generation. how to be assertive without being aggressive... instead of reading management books on it, one should just see the matriarchs of yore. despite all the pushing down of women, they somehow managed to rise... and rule; and bind their fams with tough love.
ok, today no place for hate... so no shyam.
just one last thing, so la really thought lauki was cucumber? asr, tsk tsk.
......................
fanfiction
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