"life is pain, highness. anyone who says differently is selling something."
~~~ william goldman, william goldman: four screenplays ~~~
"gayi."
khushi spun around as she heard asr's voice. a second ago, anjali was standing there, but now this terrifyingly angry asr. a chilling expression, striking fear in the heart.
his voice had a cold flatness to it, burnt at the edges by something. what was it?
"kya sochke tumne mera phone kata tha... tumhe toh lagta hai bolne ka haq sirf tumhe hai... hai na?" silver voice... argentum ascending. what were you thinking when you disconnected my call? you must be thinking only you have the right to speak. a cold flow of anger.
just minutes ago he sat at the table by his sister, grim and upset about the whole marriage fracas. in fact, it had impacted him so deeply he had a splitting headache. this was unlike him. asr... rugged, robust, ready to take on anything. and now suddenly a serious attack of migraine, his eyes almost losing focus at the gnaw of the throbbing ache.
of course, somehow barun made it look all so real, facial muscles
slackening, eyes going numb, head not so firmly held, i wanted to go
give the fellow a massage. (see i did want to become a nurse and it's
only that instinct which made me think that, okay?)
i'd been wondering about his reaction to shaadi talk. i understood that he was contemporary in thinking and the tragedy at a very vulnerable age had laft an ugly impact. akash had said as much to khushi the night of the rain. i could
hear him vehemently state that marriage was not a thing he believed in.
yet, couldn't really understand why. something more than just a dislike
of a tradition that holds no meaning for him."tumhe achanak ho kya gaya hai..." he exclaimed to lavanya. what's happened to you all of a sudden? he was tired, the day had brought things he was completely unprepared for and which seemed to touch a raw nerve.
"subah tum mere liye chai lekar aayi. aur wo bhi aise kapdo mein jaise wo... pause, clench jaw... khsuhi kumari gupta pehenti hai" you brought tea for me in the morning, and that too wearing clothes like that khushi kumari gupta.
he just couldn't keep it all in, a spate of words as he took off his waist coat, and la stood by with his towel and change in her new found churidar kameez look. he admonished her every marriage oriented move. she kept quiet... and suddenly his anger collided with a strange frequency.
"react dammit, answer me." he whirled around and flung the words at her.
to la's credit, she didn't cower. in fact, she asked him what was the problem with marriage, they were living together anyway, so what was the issue in taking the relationship to its logical end and giving it a name.
somewhere in the middle of her last sentence, his eyes went icy cold licked by fire. had i been la, that would be the cue to run, but today she was determined. sometimes she was just all la, her own person, her own ideas. like when she paid for khushi's pizza without fuss, almost generous in her approach.
"iss baare mein mujhe dubara baat nahin karni." am not going to talk about this again. he slammed the door shut with his words. la took the cue from his rage, showed some of her own as she threw down the towel (oh oh was there a visual pun there by the makers? funny guys) and left.
all i could feel was a grating kind of pain trickling around inside the frame, threatening to blow it to bits. then at the table, in di's words, just a hint. she knows chhotey hates marriage, but he must understand that their mother and father -
he cut her off mid sentence. no, he didn't want to talk about that. finally, i began to understand. so the objection to marriage was really to do with his parents' experience. and recalling it, or going anywhere near it was just hard on him. for the last couple of days it had been nothing but marriage talk. the girl he thought he could trust and have a relationship with where both wanted the same things, was suddenly hell bent on something that only hurt him.
hurt. extreme hurt. and unresolved pain.
that was what it was all about. he could never bring himself to say it in so many words, but this was what was wearing him down. he just didn't want to go there. by 80, we knew the added layer of struggle and churn within. it was just a day before his parents death anniversary. he anyway was vulnerable, fragile. on top of that, this incessant band baja barat talk.
"feelings are disturbing. people are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. how can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? pain is meant to wake us up. people try to hide their pain. but they're wrong. pain is something to carry, like a radio. you feel your strength in the experience of pain. it's all in how you carry it. that's what matters. pain is a feeling. your feelings are a part of you. your own reality. if you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you're letting society destroy your reality. you should stand up for your right to feel your pain."
~~~ jim morrison ~~~
he had tried to take matters in hand. threaten khushi into submission, and get her to stop brain washing la, but khushi was not in a mood to talk to him. when she walked in this morning, despite that headache, he tried to talk to her. again she escaped into the kitchen.
interestingly, the screenplay presented a topsy turvy scenario. pain at one end, prank at the other. somehow it worked. made both seem keener, and further etched the characters.
here was a man in deep and utter pain. his entire being in the grip of a trauma. his every word taut, torn from him almost. nothing light about him or in the air that shuffled around him, hushed and quiet, mindful of his state of mind. the air and his di, they seemed to be the only ones who knew he suffered.then there was khushi. she had no notion whatsoever of the state he was in. to her, he was being his usual laad governor, rakshas self and trying to scare her so that she'd stop her shaadi plans. she was not keen to get into a scuffle with him, and her strategy was to flummox the adversary and get out of all tricky situations with her ajeeb khushi strategies. first the phone games. then the avoid at the table.
but now. now what? he stood in front of her, and for a second it looked like there was no escape.
then she dropped the container of flour. on purpose.
a loud noise, and a burst of white powder, rising like a geyser, spattering his face, his clothes. hot tea the other day, dry powder now. he flinched and turned away, felt as though this had hurt more than the scalding beverage. a pent up emotion tried for release but lay trapped in a suffocating container somewhere.
mami ji walked into the kitchen.
he sneezed. "gaad bilass, arnav bitwa." a few saucy mami comments about cooking kilass being taken by him and again asr had to walk away without saying what he wanted to.
but he did turn to look at her once more. why? because he was angry? because he was hurt? because he just had to? maybe a bit of all of that? certainly a threat in his look, he's going to get her.
today everything was in his voice. and that curiously moist eyed, not so taut face. a searing in the timbre of his voice, a fragility on his face. there was a loneliness in him that felt devastating. a distance from all around him. this song has come from nowhere and been playing in my head ever since i saw 79 and heard 80. the last stanza... patthar ka ashna mile/patthar ka devta mile/sheeshe ka dil liye jaaoon kahan, reminded me of him. not that he didn't have a dil, just that it was so very fragile.
credit: uploader
a few snapshots from 79
1.
"aap?" you?
"haan main, kyun? meri awaz sunke kaat dogi." yes, me, why? hearing my voice you'll slam the phone down? he's terse and clipped and dare i say, hot. those camera movements, picking his every expression and reflection, makes him look hotter still. it's like looking at him through a kaleidoscope. maybe a hint of that fragmenting within him, part of him falling to pieces, trying to stay together?
2.
"aap bolte rahiye," keep talking, in a sweet voice.
"bakwas band karo," stop the nonsense, a sour rejoinder.
"tumhe kya lagta hai... tum koi bhi patti padake lavanya ke shaadi ke baare mein khayal badal dogi... tumne samjh kya rakha hai hume," what do you think, you can fool lavanya into buying into your marriage idea... who do you think i am. gosh, he sounds like a mogul, haughty and sexy.
"ha ha hum kal aayenge na aur kal hum aapko aur bhi cheezen sikha denge, jaise karwa chauth, navratra ke rasm, suhagan ki cheezen, sab kuch sikha denge." yeah i'll come tomorrow and teach you many things, about karwa chauth, navratra, rituals for married women, teach you everything. she's chirpy... making sure her parents think all is well, it's only her eager student calling.
"what." flat and uff deadly.
3.
she offers shyam ticket money. shyam is upset. the hurt act. and then the cute cup of tea chicane. well, hope when he is ready to have it, she gets him a nice hot cup and pours it on his head.
4.
gaon ki gori attack, la with food in chamkili wear. i have made for "aap" food with my own hands. this oft heard hindi movie line, usually offered by sultry village belle to her grimy farmer husband under a hot sweat inducing sun, always has me wondering. if not with your own hands you will cook, then with whose? why is "i've made it" not enough? milad, point note kiya jaaye.
5.
a father and a loving daughter. she is alive to his every thought and need. he is not looking relaxed, very worried. she must assure him all will be well. he mustn't feel bad that she's working. yes, she is not their real daughter, but they are everything to her. oh, khushi never can quite forget that her family adopted her when she became homeless. which is why perhaps she always tries harder, always wants to give, to make it all alright for everyone. endless love and gratitude for her people. perhaps just a slight bit of insecurity too. by 81 we know, just as she feels that extra bit of responsibility toward her father, mother, sister, aunt, so does her father feel it toward her. he is aware that because he is not her biological father, he must be extra cautious in making sure all goes well with her life. how very touching these relationships.
6.
"thank you, mami ji."
"belcome, naat."
7.
she is lurking around trying to avoid him. he sees her.
"hilne ki koshish bhi mat karna, jab tak meri baat khatam nahin ho jaati. .. yehin khadi raho. haath bhi mat hilana... tumhe kya laga... ki tum..." don't even try to move, till i finish saying what i have to, keep standing, don't move your hands even.. what did you think, taht you-
she pretends to be dizzy. he is only concern, instantly.
"khushi.." gah, why does that voice strike right where the ticker ticks. i am too toughened and ad for this. but no, har baar his voice does it. actor. "khushii!" "khushi?"
how to hate this heartless, godless, marriageless man.
"khushi..."
"jaldi paani lekar aaiye..." quickly get water... did she just order him?
okay. just for a second he feels the dupe. then he runs to get her water. and she escapes. such a crazy sexy scene.
"one word
frees us of all the weight and pain of life:
that word is love."
~~~ sophocles ~~~
......................
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