episode 160 love and war

i am so wanting to write 160, but sleep calls, will be back here tomorrow morning... an edit highly influenced by my pink and orange mood and farha's (omoraboti) beautiful edit. did this man ever think he had a chance?

"leto, maharani."

lie down, empress.

bua ji fussed over her jumpy niece, who'd just called her arnav ji. that "maharani" so reminded me of my mom, the colloquial style of speaking... so real and just right, the dialogue writers of ipk never failed, did they. even when everything went off key, the actors and the dialogue guys stayed true and talented.

i watched the two of them... he struggling under a blanket, a rather large mound... slightly too big for payal, but bua ji is oblivious. below the covers, darting eyes, irritated expression, gussa asr, the moment he gets a chance he's going to give it to her.

and then there's khushi, clinging to the edge, looking worriedly at the inert mountain of blanket behind, somehow managing to close her eyes, but before that a desperate plea to the aunt who stands like a mountain before her, equally inexorable. between a rock and a hard place, our jhalli.

"bua ji?"

"ka hai, titaliya?" what, my butterfly? oh poor butterfly how she wishes she could fly away far far away from here.

"yeh sab karne ke baad aap so jaayengi na?" after doing all this you'll go to sleep, won't you? khushi was so desperate and funny at that moment. sanaya at her best in these episodes. beautiful not because of her make up, dress, or features, but because she was so so in character.

a character not too easy to portray. overact a bit and it becomes tinny and campy, too chirpy or too good, loud and flat. underact, and the sanka doesn't touch your heart your gut. sanaya held the balance with such amazing skill and elegance.

but most important here, perhaps, this is the first time they are in the same bed together. lying next to each other. no matter what the circumstances, there's something erotic here. in fact, the situation makes it so really. he is trapped in her bed. a third person hovers around. chances of discovery high. then she is lying next to him and... this is strangely dhak dhak giving.

he gets out from under the blanket ready to yell, then sees her lying there, innocent face, that errant bang on forehead, a mercurial change of expression... only barun can deliver this with such ease, so convincing and delightful... from angry and in control to slightly gobsmacked, yet asr all the way through, never a callow youth.

and rabba vey comes in trilling and teasing.

the lightest breeze plays with his hair... rabba vey rises and fills the air... he's helpless before a desire he can't fight... "khushi yeh tumne mere saath kya kar diya" playing out again and again, wearing down his barriers, his fort faraq nahin padta. this man never meant it to be what it became... but then that's what was meant to be.

the man never had a chance, did he? of resisting this fluttering, floating, enticing, curiously exotic titaliya.

oh, he had to touch her, had to push the bang back...

she, of course, was cute as hell in her freaked out state... and had to open her eyes just when he'd almost done what he felt so compelled to do.

she leapt up at the sight of his hand... and an awkward silence... strains of their music still in the air.

offence again a handy defence.

"kya zaroorat thi mere saamne aane ki..." asr rough and angry, what was the need to come before me.

"mera naya saal barbaad kar diya..." ruined my new year. so he believes in this thing? as akash would remind him later, he doesn't really subscribe to such ideas... to which his response, it's the losing to her that's getting to him... really?pronto, the butterfly stings like  abee. "hum! hum aapke saamne aaye... badi jyotshi banke bhavishya vani kar rahe the..." i? i came before you, you were being the great astrologer and predicting the future...

khushi takes off, angry funny, fighting rakshas back...

don't think you've won, he threatens. lovely writing, a neat set up to take us to talk of winning and losing and on to sangeet competition and, can't breathe... man in black.

she points back a finger at him... won't think... no need to think... because i have won.

8 and 14... every now and then how they seamlessly move to being kids around each other. playmates. smarty pants boy and irritating girl with a plat which he is dying to pull. she seems to release the child in him, the one he shut away in the aftermath of tragedy, growing up overnight, becoming the "man" of the house. yet, her irrepressible child seems to touch something in him, make him drop his guard. he brings out the woman in her, she the child in him... a many faceted relationship... this must be love.

"just shut up, ok..." he yells. (ok, and may i die before that too, my mind replies.)

she's urgent in her "shh." some more buaji and her questions cannot be faced.

and then her dress is caught in his watch... this urge of all sorts of inanimate things around them to get together... all the time. we pass on our energies to everything on us, don't we? some sort of communication going on at an unspoken level? her earring wants to get stuck on his lapel. her dupatta wants to touch his face or hang on to his cuff link, his watch wants to get entangled with her shiny, chamkili border. unstated wish at play it seems to me, a burgeoning seething desire...

but he is in no mood to read signs, everything in him says "fight," his instincts know he's in danger...

and so the mean boy says, "jeetne wale ki shakal aisi nahin hoti..." winners don't look like this... pointing to her ripped kameez... low one, mr high handed raizada. "tum haar gayi, khushi kumari gupta, have a good year." you've lost, kkg, have a good year... i wanted to hit him and hug him at the same time, bet khushi did too.

and like a leitmotif in the song of asr khushi, an advance retreat before he turns around smartly and leaves... (dammit, a paper can be devoted to barun's palats and swivel arounds while doing that phd on ipk.)

in the car driving back with akash, the sliver of gota on his watch is noticed by akash... and the guy's had it.

"dammit... itna kuch sunane ke baad main aisa hone kaise de sakta hoon." dammit, after saying all i did to her, how could i let this happen, then he turns on akash... "yeh sab tumhari vajah se hua hai." this is all because of you!

he doesn't believe in such things... but it irks him that that kkg will think she's won. he repeats with more vehemence, "sab tumhari vajah se..." akash has that helpless yet quizzical air, maybe he's getting the drift...?

miss gupta... sorry, "hum khushi kumari gupta" is all set on declaring war. "jeet" shall be hers. how could that miserable boy call her loser... she'll show him.

payal's "inteqam ki aag agar sulagh jaaye na..." if the fire of revenge abates get to sleep, is hilarious. only fam members know how hard it is to live with a filmi butterfly. drama queen is eating jalebi planning decimation of rakshas. "iss phate gote ki kassam..." i mean, khushi... really.

so she hates him and he thinks she's a pest, so why does it bother him where nk was that evening.

starting with nk's entry, episode 148, a great bromance is coming along nicely. nannav, akash, nk a potent combination loaded with jibes, pokes, rivalry, camaraderie, a certain dilli coolness, and loads of male sensuality. every woman watching, 6 to 106 would be enamoured... almost not miss the girls. poor sanaya, to take this on, teehee.

have to say at times they had me grinning even more than joey, ross, chandler. and of course, only here did my heart do crazy cartwheels, getting caught in watches, voices, palats and other sundry things.

"yeah? guess aaj nk kahan tha? " yeah? guess where nk was tonight... gah, that's really got him... nk at khushi's place with flowers.

nk with rose, a la the receptionist at sheesh mahal, episode 1, is asking for "sabun." hyuk, soap. present the soap (instead of saboot, proof)... good one, writers.

"kyun gaye the wahan..." why did you go there, barks the man who doesn't care.  nk's flakepot answer about a young man and a young woman, etc., drives him nuts.

"khushi kumari gupta ke baad tum pehle aise insaan ho jisske liye main yeh kah raha... unbelievable." after kkg, you're the first person about whom i'm saying this... unbelievable.

so kkg was the first? hmmm. this equating of the two mad ones was interesting. he could resist neither. do seemingly hard hearted ones have a weakness for genuine, clean people with a streak of looniness? their childlike innocence reaches them in a way adult worldly behaviour cannot, and the craziness seals the deal. just a thought.

and also somehow with that one word he turned them into a team... which endured till the end. a special bond between the ati swadeshi khushi and the phaaren return nk. asr was a sharp one, he could sense the innocence that resided in the heart of both these creatures and in that they were identical.

the worst scene of this great episode: a married man  with his devoted and trusting wife right before him, first sweet talks her into believing what he wants and then leers at khushi's picture on his mobile while his wife looks at him adoringly. that rustic creepiness of shyam, spiders up my arms.

but terribly ipkly, when asr is worried about sis and yelling (but naturally), she tries to calm him down with a question... where did you go, did you go to a party... and he gets entangled like a piece of gota in time... a flashback.

and memories of a girl come by... she was a party, wasn't she? the best new year eve's party ever. he stalks off, unsettled by his thoughts.

next morning, the win lose conversation of the night before finds its perfect denouement. sangeet. idea!... "haar jeet ki toh baat hai, bua ji... yalgaar yalgaar! jung ke liye taiyaar kijiye." it is a matter of winning and losing, buaji... get ready for war, urges our drama queen... watch out, boy, she's coming to get you.

beautiful episode, smoothly sliding over to the next thing on the agenda. faraq padta hai...

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episode 259 woh baat

just saw 259. a beautiful dream and dreadful reality converged and created sharp contrast. in one world he skipped like a callow lover around the pool, free and wafting, in another there were ropes. binding him, making movement impossible... she sat touched perhaps by both and yes that phonecall and figured out, yes, there's khatra. danger... she knew stalked her arnav ji. seemed as though there was again communication at another level.

update

the more i think about it, the more i feel there was something musical in the episode. i know nothing about music in a formal way... yet the beginning felt like a soft gentle deep opening introducing the basic notes of the piece. then there was a lyrical movement asking you to fly away to another world. the next movement changed mood tone everything but stayed with the fundamental notes and their ascent and descent, it left fantasy just like that, hit reality running... breathlessly. tied and bound, gun pointing at it and there was a complete change of rhythm and pace. a crescendo was reached and then cut off.

episode could have ended there happily, but for some unknown reason, maybe just to kill time, there was that akash payal nani bit... like a song that didn't belong. and the disturbing cop station ha ha scene. but i'll just ignore them i guess.

gust of wind entered frame and wrapped around them creating a place away from the material world, as they sat in their own spaces, physically at a distance, emotionally completely connected. her tears flowed and seemed to take him close to a point close his. she held her phone and pressed it to her heart... with his voice in it, it was almost a part of him, and of course the only place she wanted to hold him at that moment was her heart.

the moment seeped into the story. the girl who had fallen into his arms one evening and set up emotions that tore into him, and yet he couldn't walk away with his swagger and his faraq nahin padta; the boy who snapped her dori and filled her with yearnings and longings she couldn't understand, and who made her hopping mad, who had wronged her... these two at last had found out what really ailed them. it was nothing else, just that old simple truth... the one that doesn't care a hoot what anyone says or doesn't, does or doesn't, not even if anyone has character or hasn't... it just is and it is all that matters.

love.

supercedes all, doesn't it.

how simply he said it at last. how enchantingly she held the feeling and reciprocated. gust of wind and rabba vey must have thrown a party that night... at last these two had got it. at long last. so who could blame the wind for hanging around to enjoy the moment.the two of them said nothing... just held a moment close and took it into themselves... like they needed it to breathe... to survive.click. and the phone is disconnected.

she is weeping and he looks helpless, upset, not like his usual self at all.

a hand enters frame and it's the first sign that something is terribly wrong. beginning of kidnap...

an asr turn of head and icy glare at the whoever.

first notes of kidnap soundtrack with the jagged drumming comes in. a little taste of what's to come.

a gun is pointed at his head. i was shattered, and i must say i loved the kidnap sequences, well most of them, they were shot really well. raw and scary and palpable. 

how terribly gorgeous is asr looking even though his jacket is gone... only shirtsleeves, hair mussed, but the eyes, the stance, all asr.

and then come in the ropes. the reality dose is getting worse. good acting can sometimes be hard on the viewer. really. 

he sits in that terrifying space, ready for whatever is on its way... is it death.

and we escape to another world. khushi walks down the corridor to her room, on the way she recalls how angry he had been when he found out she was engaged... when he thought he had lost her... how both times he had said "faraq padta hai, kyunki..." he had always loved her... even then even when he hurt her all the time. it was all about this feeling, this one, nothing else.

i have mentioned earlier how i thought she almost instantly grew into a woman after embracing this truth. by the time she reached her room, she was all woman and a woman very much in love. so much, that her mind conjured a powerful image of him... here, looking beautiful, come all the way to tell her with all of himself... he loves her.

khushi, i love you.

into the second movement of the theme we went.

khushi wore bridal red to meet her man. he lit a candle to dispel the darkness, he stood there looking gentle and tender and so very loving, a light in his eyes. she was no longer afraid... she stepped into his world and held out her hand. he looked a little sad as though upset at having hurt her, she kept her fingers firmly on his lips. shh, not a word, no regrets.

aaoge jab tum balma... when you come, my love, flowers will bloom in my garden. the rain will come down... dancing. the first time i saw this, i had actually heard the song several times during that very day... no idea what was waiting for me at midnight.

he gestured gently and she saw he had brought a gift. a string of pearls. he was returning all those scattered pearls of the first meeting to her. how deftly the composition enriched itself with context. she was so happy, she let him put it on around her neck, and just as he moved in closer to wrap her in his arms and make love to her, she turned and in the way of filmi, slightly flaky khushi ran away from him, fully expecting him to follow just as in the movies no doubt. 

he didn't disappoint, he did a slomo run after her by the poolside where they always met to battle, to kiss, to love, to hate. and caught her and held her and she buried her face in his chest, her smile lit up the night. he was so content with her in his arms, but then he frowned... he was again assailed by remorse. she said to him not to feel like that. no. there was no need.

barun sobti and sanaya irani took what might have become impossibly embarrassing to watch to such sweet perfection, i couldn't even think, i was pretty silly gooey in a fairly dead state. i mean, did you see the look in his eyes, and she was suddenly just that bit provocative, that bit shy, wooing her man almost. 

then arrived the tackiest prop on earth and fantasy... the bottle which carried the message. even that couldn't ruin it for me. i love you, khushi said the note.

and a mirage melted away.

oh he had even in that gentle avatar of his managed to do an advance retreat... after all, this was a classic asr khushi moment, if a legendary couple's signature was a certain way they hugged or turned their heads or whatever... asr khushi's advance retreat was their thing... part of them, uniquely... right from the day they met, back in episode 2. thrilling this touch of things peculiar to them and always in an easy, unforced way. created memorable things, most brands would kill for such signatures.

she was startled to find herself in her yellow green churidaar kameez again. what was that. what happened.

and we shifted to reality. also the device of intercut. music changed. a feeling of pain and torture and disquiet all around. ropes, darkness. he sits looking helpless, perhaps exhausted and asleep, still sitting. his eyes open, he is groggy, eyes unfocused... he looks around... and we see for the first time where he sits tied and captured.  the phone lies before him. a slight lightening of expression, his hand reaches out, fingers enter frame, a will in them.

the phone is too far away. he tries his best to reach it, dragging his chair toward it, herculean effort just to get to that tine little thing. breaks out in sweat, very tired, he's almost collapsing, the ropes hold him back... he is trying to say something, is it "khushi"?



and she is instantly touched it seems as we cut to her in her darkness, wearing a bright yellow... not bound, not stationery, in fact moving... in thought, in emotion, in body. she feels a darkness, she sits down as though winded by it.

cut to him, he has pulled himself up again. and he tries valiantly once more to reach that phone... he is not giving up.

cut to her, a surge of energy and she gets up and starts pacing... music moves from sombre to a faster pace.

"humey pata hai. humara man kah raha hai ki kuchh toh bura hua hai aapke saath.." i know, my mind says, something bad has happened to you.

again we go to him and he is still trying... but now his fingers register his flailing strength. and he seems to lose momentum, something is dragging him down. his head lolls back, eyes begin to shut.

she is in fully up and about as he diminishes... calling him, calling aman... trying to figure things out. no, aman knows nothing about the scotland deal.

he lies there in his chair, fragile, unconscious.

she calls the airlines... there was no flight to scotland from delhi three days ago.

"iska matlab?" and fear comes to clutch her heart.

cut to him...and his captors come calling. there's the man in the jacket. now in shirt and looking the ruffian he is. three or four guys, rough, henchman variety, they actually touch his face and slap him around abit. oh no, not agood sign. "kya hua issey?" what's the matter with him...

he is a diabetic, get his meds, if anything happens to him "boss" will kill them. ah so there's a boss. "mar toh nahin gaya hai yeh?" hasn't died has he? and asr's head flops to the side. ugh.

cut to khushi, she sits cogitating. why did he say he is in london if he is in scotland? she goes through her thoughts and reaches where we had started out... again like music coming back all the way to the first notes.

"khushi, i love you."

aur woh baat.

and those words.

why did he say those words to me. suddenly? and the way he said the words? unke baat karne la tarika? he has never spoken to me like this before...

she recalls how he had said she was having an affair, that she has no character... a vulnerable beauty in khushi at this moment. the man she loves who has told such horrible things to her, worse still believed what he has said...

jinhone humse itna kuchh kaha... who said so many things to me...
itna rulaya... made me cry so much...
itni taqleef di... gave so much hurt...
jinhone humey sach sabit karne ka mauqa tak nahin diya... who didn't give me a chance even to prove the truth...
unhone hi humse kaha ki... he told me...

and she thinks of the words again. something oneirical (ha... that word) in the entire sequence, even though it is reality.

woh itni badi baat itni asani se kaise kah sakte hai... how can he say such ahuge thing so easily.

and in asani was the cue to the next thought.
the opposite of that asani... mushkil. difficulty.

zaroor, she averred, woh koi mushkil mein honge.
he must be in some difficulty.

if all is going well there's no way he'd say such abig thing to her. she is sure.

kahin unhe koi khatra toh nahi?

danger... khatra. she has reached the right word.

she had not said a word when he said, "khushi, i love you."

but in the last few minutes she has talked constantly, with others, then herself... and come to the right conclusion... sensing him. his words. beyond its obvious meaning. feeling his mind, knowing his ways...

kahin unhe koi khatra toh nahin?

why did it sound like "arnav ji, i love you," to me.

she stood up, now sure. i know, my heart says, he is in some sort of danger.

beautiful. there was that ipk kind of writing here. with its little games and surprises, and such a mad understanding of emotion. new music played in the background as season changed at ipk. this was the first time we saw him in captivity, and her becoming absolutely a woman, his woman... barun was so good in these shots, hard to believe he was actually doing two shifts shooting some happy sukhi role somewhere. sanaya was lovely, at long last energy in her now that she has spoken to him... and moreover he has said woh baat.

i thoroughly enjoyed the intercutting and the two spaces both similar in some ways and completely different too. seemed like they were again communicating at another plain... sensing each other, deciphering, desiring, moving in unison, never quite apart. and yes, it did feel like a piece of music composed with inspiration. 

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