a rickety ladder can sometimes be more potent than champagne.
......................
never meant to, but then who ever really plans the most astounding things in life. fell in love with a serial, a hindi one at that. completely unforeseen, unsought experience. led me to much. here i have started putting together the many things i've written, the pictures i have edited, my feelings really, for iss pyaar ko kya naam doon? maybe you've heard of the show, maybe you have strong feelings for it too. i hope you enjoy your browse through these pages of "indi and iss pyaar ko".
Sunday, 1 January 2017
Sunday, 4 December 2016
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...
...............................
episode 159 a midnight forever
my baby moves at midnight
goes right on till the dawn
my woman takes me higher
my woman keeps me warm
what you doin in the back aah
what you doin in the back aah?
you should be dancing, yeah
dancing, yeah
she's juicy and she's trouble
she gets it to me good
my woman gives me power
goes right down to my blood
~~~ barry, maurice and robin gibb of the beegees, saturday night fever ~~~
anyone seen saturday night fever here? remember the song? tell me the words were not written for that woman and her man. i have never known what to call this episode. the shut up episode? the bara baj gaye episode? the huma hoon do episode? but as i watched today, i realised call it what you like, this one was about a song in the heart and body, about a dance set up by a certain nand kissore, a midnight melody that was all about a potent thing called love and it struck at the witching hour.
goes right on till the dawn
my woman takes me higher
my woman keeps me warm
what you doin in the back aah
what you doin in the back aah?
you should be dancing, yeah
dancing, yeah
she's juicy and she's trouble
she gets it to me good
my woman gives me power
goes right down to my blood
~~~ barry, maurice and robin gibb of the beegees, saturday night fever ~~~
anyone seen saturday night fever here? remember the song? tell me the words were not written for that woman and her man. i have never known what to call this episode. the shut up episode? the bara baj gaye episode? the huma hoon do episode? but as i watched today, i realised call it what you like, this one was about a song in the heart and body, about a dance set up by a certain nand kissore, a midnight melody that was all about a potent thing called love and it struck at the witching hour.
"bara bajne wale hain..." about to strike twelve... she leaps around in the dark with the ubiquitous jalebi.
bara kisske bajne wale hai, i wonder... "bara baj gaye," a colloquial take on someone/thing being messed up, done for... memory of a sardar ji joke. yet despite the cuteness of the moment, nothing feels like a joke. in a darkened room, stand the two who are circling each other in a parallel arena in an unseen plane. a dance of conquest and capitulation in progress... long long before the actual dance comes along.
between them the rose, challenge, the heart of it all... the one whose face you'll see at midnight, the crossover moment from the past to the future, that will be the one with whom you'll live your lifetime. a lifetime decided in one midnight moment. whom will you see at this moment? whom do you want to see? who will pick up that rose and look the other in the eye. as you can tell by now i suppose, i was terribly struck by the episode. especially the opening sequence.
bara kisske bajne wale hai, i wonder... "bara baj gaye," a colloquial take on someone/thing being messed up, done for... memory of a sardar ji joke. yet despite the cuteness of the moment, nothing feels like a joke. in a darkened room, stand the two who are circling each other in a parallel arena in an unseen plane. a dance of conquest and capitulation in progress... long long before the actual dance comes along.
between them the rose, challenge, the heart of it all... the one whose face you'll see at midnight, the crossover moment from the past to the future, that will be the one with whom you'll live your lifetime. a lifetime decided in one midnight moment. whom will you see at this moment? whom do you want to see? who will pick up that rose and look the other in the eye. as you can tell by now i suppose, i was terribly struck by the episode. especially the opening sequence.
he
rises from behind her bed at her words and heartbeats start. were they
his? the dhak dhak had arrived just that he was not tuning in? what's
that look in his eyes, a little flustered... he knows what's coming.
"dus... nau...aat.." she chimes... no idea that the other person in the room was not her jiji.
"seven... six..." outside the room and its bated expectations, under the stars an open love affair, gentle soft... stated. lovely, but no dance in it... maybe some sweet poetry. payal and akash... who knows, if the writing had remained steady, they might have reached the level of unsaid underlying communication that khushi and asr always had. payal closes her eyes.
"dus... nau...aat.." she chimes... no idea that the other person in the room was not her jiji.
"seven... six..." outside the room and its bated expectations, under the stars an open love affair, gentle soft... stated. lovely, but no dance in it... maybe some sweet poetry. payal and akash... who knows, if the writing had remained steady, they might have reached the level of unsaid underlying communication that khushi and asr always had. payal closes her eyes.
"jiji, utho na..." jiji, wake up (open your eyes)... squeals and hops khushi... nice detail.
"paanch... chaar... teen..." he's wondering what to do... sees his phone... maybe he thinks of escaping after he's got what he came looking for?
"ek... aur," khushi takes a crunchy bite of jalebi... meetha for naya saal i guess... khushi is really determined to set up a great year... not see that laad governor's face...
he picks up the phone, she switches on the light, eyes shut still... jumps... "jiji!"
he draws himself up and is standing right in front of her...
she opens her eyes.
he had to be there i guess... there was no way out... not once the fort faraq was showing its cracks, not when he couldn't stop thinking of her no matter how crazy and weird she was. not when he hated to see her dancing with nk and some sixth sense perhaps told him... not tonight... no one else but me.
but that was all deep talk in his cells... he was still the man he knew himself to be. rough tough arrogant tycoon who has no time for such frivolous ideas as love, new year and that sort of nonsense.
she opens her eyes... and it's... not the face she expected to see. her smile slips. in shock... but was there any dismay?
a curtain wipes in a transition to his face... he looks a little helplessly back... he so didn't want to be here... or did he?
hey hey... while they both react without joy... something else within is having a blissful moment. you are here, yes i am, i knew you would be, oh, did you? lovers have conversations without words... all the time. rarely do they do it so eloquently.
direction, lighting, camera, music, acting... check.
she blinks... his hair flies a bit in the breeze. two people stock still... tiny movements without, so much going on within... wish i could see it all but perhaps it is too private a thing.
the jalebi falls.
she breathes a little heavily... an almost tearful look on her face... what is she to do with this gust of emotion, this pause that she wants to stay in.
two people caught in an undeniable moment.
before all the denials begin again.
this subtext rich nature of ipk thrills me. there seems to be an understanding of us humans way beyond the scope of this genre. we, who fight so hard to be rational yet are in the end, in essence, extra rational. just like love... faith... every emotion. we, who have tried so hard to express everything in words, find words for each and every phenomenon... yet the most important things in our world cannot be expressed in utterances... that's in looks, in pauses. in auras and energies. in the language of the body when it's driven by our spirit.
"aap?" squeaky and shrill.
"shaat up..." so the first words of the new year that he said to her were, shut up. niiice. so much right over a girl you couldn't care less for...
she raves, he tries to stop her...
"khushi, tum..."
"aap yahan aaye kyun," why have you come here... she's unstoppable. she has not appeared before him as he'd said and she'd sworn not to.
"kyunki mera phone yahan par rah gaya," because my phone was here... through clenched teeth (must say the setting up of that was pretty neat)...
"aapka phone akele chal ke toh nahin aaya hoga..." your phone couldn't have walked in here all by itself... poor man, his inquisitor has no idea about the glue shenanigans of the evening.
"hey bhagwan..." holding her head... "sabse pehle humne kisska chehra dekh liya..." oh lord, whose face did i see first thing in the year. it's kind of rude...
he can't believe it... as though she is the only one in a place she doesn't want to be in...and maybe a bit angry too... the way she speaks of "kisska chehra..." the chehra many women would kill to see and this disdain from a chit of a small town crazy girl in pompoms. i feel his pain.
"excuse me..." oh spiritual sexiness... "maine bhi tumhara chehra dekha hai, ok..." i have also seen your face, ok... a come back... rough, angry, and just a wee bit childish... oh holy g, save me from this child man... if she is child woman he is no less child man when with her in situations like this... kills me.
she thinks she is more at a loss because she's seen him... him... he, who had challenged her and said she would appear before him...
"ab kaun aya kisske saamne," now who's come before whom.
he's speechless... he is here. but... what the... he never meant to...
you've reached the wrong place at the wrong time just to ruin my new year... alleges kkg.
she's yelling, he's wondering how to get her to lower her voice and give her a smashing answer when her tirade hits a new pitch upon seeing the open window.
he walks forward with that incredible lithe grace... he has to shut her mouth physically with his palm (did lips suggest themselves as a better means, my unguarded mind wonders) and push her back.
"shut up... shut up, khushi kumari gupta."
"chillana mujhe bhi aata hai, ok?" i can also shout, ok? yes... we had noticed.
he tells her what's going on... her eyes do dramatic replies and responses... but the moment his hand is removed...
"jiji!!"
cute, the way his body jerks instinctively and his hand comes up to somehow get her to keep quiet, "khushi main tumhe akhri baar bol raha hoon, ok?" khushi, telling you for the last time, ok? like he is fed up with this girl he just can't have enough of.
she immediately shuts up, then whispers... "jiji"... can't stop talking this madam.
he is now standing arms folded across chest... assured... maybe he thinks he's come up with a logical explanation for his presence here... and she will not yell... so maybe he can linger.
outside akash is promising undying love over lucknowi chat...
they're standing next to each other by the window... she is all gooey about love... akash ji's faith in it... he's not impressed, looks for his faithful phone.
at "isse kehte hain pyaar," this is called love... he looks up...
"... yakin hi nahi hota ki woh aapke bhai hain." difficult to believe, he's your brother, she says. he was walking away... he turns around... "excuse me?" she realises her folly, yeah you are talking about the great akash who believes in love, so why did you bring laad gov into it exactly? "lekin hume kya pata tha... ghoom phirke aap hi humare saamne aa jayenge?" you'd said, how would i know that in some way or the other you'll come and stand right before me (weak translation, sorry). but kkg, have you asked yourself why all your conversations, all your thoughts, ghoom phirke come and stop in front of this rakshas man?
"excuse me?" he's back by her side... "what?" to and fro moves the ocean... now some surf glinting in the moonlight.
"matlab"... as she expounds on the lovely akash and his yakeen in love which is why he has devised a way to see her jiji's face... the man cuts in...
"filmi aur stoopid bakwas hai." it's all melodramatic rubbish.
you think so, because you don't believe in love, says she.
doesn't he? isn't the breaking of that very vishwaas in love which he's carried in his heart so long. so much love for his father... his mother... does anyone wonder what arnav singh raizada might have felt for his father? the only son, possibly much pampered in that patriarchal set up... the whole and good son... no limp, no problems? his father might have doted on him... what would anyone feel if their father, the greatest place of trust and the protector was found to be flawed, wanting, a traitor to a whole idea... how would his son feel? this was never delved into... but stayed in my head somewhere always. he adored his mother... maybe his father too? and now that love is shattered but can it just go away? in such a state what is one to do?
"right... nahin karta..." right, i don't believe in love, he retorts and turns away, there are places within he keeps hidden always... in fact even tells himself they don't exist.
"waise arnav ji..." and khushi brings him too close to thoughts he doesn't wish to ponder. it hurts too damn much.
she speaks of the yearnings of this first day of the year, the love people feel for their near ones... how they must be wishing for something for those they cared for...
she was looking away, she didn't see his eyes look a little lost, and that swallow, the adam's apple move up and down... every time he is near an emotion that overwhelms him, that swallow...
"lekin aap... aap mein itni karwahat hai ki, aap ko pyaar bhi bekaar aur bakwas lagta hai?" but you... in you there's so much bitterness, even love feels useless and rubbish to you?
right in the heart of his fort, a strike.
another swallow... a hurt feeling that could span the globe and still have more to go around... again she doesn't sense it...
"aap aise kyun hain?" why are you like this?
main bas aisa hi hoon, says my mind... he knows he acts strangely, he doesn't really mean it, but that's how he is, he has told you long ago, only you don't know. lavanya knows he was trying to tell you many things all along.
our perfect worlds, our perfect raaj kumars who must be a certain way... but what if they are not?
what if they don't say love is everything to them... what if they don't swear eternity in soft caring voice...
what if this is how they say they are capable of more love and passion than you'll ever imagine, that they live and breathe only for that... what if...
again the ocean flows close to his shore, again he says i want you with his body his aura... so urgent his need, his desire for her, she feels it coming at her, she turns away...
"poori duniya kuch mang rahi hai, kyunki poori duniya paagal hai... maangne se kuch milta nahin hai... bakwas hai yeh sab... nakli phool aur taarey lagane se yeh duniya khoobsoorat nahin ho jaati..."
the whole world wants something, the whole world is mad... just by wanting you can't get anything... this is all nonsense... plastic flowers and stars don't make the world beautiful...
i want my mother back... i want my father to be a good man... i want my home to be mine.. i want everything to be the way it used to be... if only just by wanting we could get our world back. poor nasty brutish arnav singh raizada.
his voice is low, intense, his body thrusts forward, his eyes are dark wretched dead but a searing flame within... "yeh duniya utni hi bedard aur pathar dil hai jitni hamesha thi..."... this world is exactly as stone hearted and cruel as it always was. i feel so terrible for this betrayed young man... never can he ever trust...
"par tum nahin samjhogi..." but you won't understand.
and he takes it back to confrontation... from almost a confession of his helplessness before the cruelty of the world. he never explains himself to anybody... but to this woman... he perhaps feels a need to. she thinks he is heartless... perhaps matters to him... so he does the only thing he can... show power... try and hurt.
you don't have the thing that's needed for you to understand this.
what thing... kaunsi cheez? she asks.
he turns around, his confidence back, teasing, baiting... "mujhe laga tha ki tum poochho gi hi nahin..." thought you'd never ask.
"dimaag, kkg," says the dil man.
and nk has arrived with the flowers.
a sense of comedy of errors takes over this point onward. ipk changing flavour. must get the viewer happy sad tearful giddy and once in a way dead after all.
she runs back into the room when she sees bua ji and pushes him back into the room... he starts to protest and she shuts his mouth with her hand now. bua ji is up... please keep quiet.
what was that look in his eyes as he gazed at her so close to him. how splendid this exploration by barun of a man searching for his feelings for a woman.
trying to give it a name.
"kaun hai nand kissore... nand kissore..." who is it nand kissore, comes bua ji hurtling out of her sleep and her room. she will greet nk at the door. there will be all sorts of funny moments. several times will we hear nand kissore... bua ji will say in so many words that the lord had sent nand kissore, his name sake.
nand kissore... cheeks will be pinched... humre nand kissore.
nk will pass out at the thought of spending his whole life with her... her face being the one he saw first at 12 sharp. consequently the vision of the wedding, and the "huma hoon do, nand kissore" a classic moment.
in all of this fun, a little naughty look at a common human thing... an older woman and a young fresh faced boy... against the backdrop of a slightly heightened atmosphere: a wedding in the family. the most unlikely couple they may be, and it's all in jest... but underlying it, what gives it validity and brings on more laughter is perhaps our sensing that a fascination can be there in someone old and lonely for someone so cute and bursting with youth... an innocent sort of thing, a slightly sad sort of thing too. of course, here it's nothing like that... it's bua ji at her batty best and some clever writing to put krishna into the moment. someone was certainly vaishnav in the creative team.
bua ji sees nk as nand kissore's vishesh doot, special representative... he perhaps is... the one sent to completely water that seed of love in the gardener's heart, the one the cosmic gardener has sown... now as fertiliser, a little jealousy, just the right amount, then watch how that love grows, gains colour, brightness, a fleck of immortality.
khushi somehow manages the devil in her room, of course, moving to ott in her desperation. the drama of nk continues... bua ji looks at him mesmerised, nk is worried sick, garima ji puzzled... oh so he wants to wish khushi too? bua ji yells out to khoosie and payaliya, see who's come... nand kissore.
and asr hears of it, nk is here. the face goes into what the mode... yes, cosmic gardener, this fertilizer called nk that is laughter and jealousy in equal parts works good.
"whaat!"
khushi rushes out to handle the chaos there. all she wants to do is get rid of nk and bua ji back in bed somehow. now amma is also here. a deftly handled comedy scene, all players at peak performance.
the man in the room can't take it any more... "what the hell," pace, "yeh nk iss time yahan kya kar raha hai..." what's this nk doing here now... mutterings about his jet lag.
he has to see what's up... he peers out.
bua ji in the meantime waylays the bouquet of red roses as nk tries to pass it to khushi. garima ji is looking pathetically funny, something tells her those were not meant for her sis in law. but too bad, no one but asr can give her roses, you see...
she comes back into the room.
"what the..." another expletive, "nk yahan kya kar raha tha..."
both pace... "aur yeh phool, woh tumhe..." and these flowers, he was giving you... asr doesn't bother to hide the jealousy, does he?
she is pacing. he cuts in in front of her and stops her nervous pace. both flustered, he can't take her looking like this... again crossing all that denial...
"kya hua tumhe, tum theek toh ho?" what's happened to you? are you ok?
i just knew by the way my stomach dropped to my toe and my heart missed a beat that it was the perfect delivery.
"bara baje humne aapka chehra dekha hum theek kaise ho sakte hain..." i've seen your face at 12 midnight how can i be ok? comes the sanaka queen's reply.
please go from here for heaven's sake, she urges
nostrils flare... "aur main kya kar raha tha..." what else was i doing?
her constant pushing away of him seems to have cut deep, he's ready to go out and face buaji too if need be... she drags him away... bua ji wants the darwajja to be opened.
hai re nk, she is coming apart. she tells him to lie down on the bed. he says she's mad. he falls on the bed thanks to her flailing arms and is soon lying on it, covered from head to to toe, being payal.
episode started on dhak dhak, ended with both on the same bed. this was going to be a year to remember.
...............................
Saturday, 3 December 2016
episode 158 speak softly love
hush. speak softly. bua ji might wake up.
in dimmed light, among shadows and whispers, a clandestine air clung to the episode. at times stung by sheer nefariousness, at others touched by passion. and at least once, lit up by an unexpected spark in the heart, quickly snuffed by a lie.
the entire episode felt like a prelude in many ways. a build up to something big, the bated breath of the last evening of the year in it. what did the coming year hold? what was to happen at 12 midnight...
shyam swayed with his wife by the pool. a deadly wire waiting to spell death. she so trusting, so gullible. he peculiarly devoid of any conscience. all set to kill her merely because she comes in the way of him grabbing his latest fancy. khushi ji.
she would have gone too, if an elder hadn't stepped out at the right moment. mama ji.
"bhagwan ke sukar hai hum aa gaye sahi waqt pe..." thank g, i came out here at the right time, said mama ji in his customary quiet yet astute way. there was a sharpness in him, an ability to love, and perhaps a man who was romantic in his own way, seeking a more lusty mate than the upper middle class women of his generation.
sahi waqt. right time. why did i get the feeling, this was a little peek into the future. story would bring us to a point where mama ji would arrive at a timely hour again, to reveal the truth of shyam. remember him and shyam at that key makers'? what happened to all those hints that were dropped? all vanished, along with this understated actor with an endearing hold on tongue in cheek humour.
in a darkened living room at khushi's place, mama ji's son, like his father a romantic at heart, has come to woo his lady love. amol palekar in the mid seventies comes to mind. the classic portrayal of the middle class everyman with a gentle tender quiet lover in him. his view of romance a little different from the matinee idol's with spark, storm and thunder. no no, here a shimmery caressing sort of breeze of feelings... wafting, lilting, and seeking sweet affirmation.
but tonight akash, when thwarted by his cautious payal ji, showed the thrill of passion. in just one unexpectedly grabbed and held hand.
payal is confused... and excited... and scared.. not used to midnight trysts clearly. akash has planned a surprise for her, gallantly he holds out his hand... will you come with me... she is of course demurring. they sit at the gupta house dining table, pickle jar in front (365 days a year the jar sits there... when does the pickle ever get ready?).
akash reasons with her, everyone's sleeping, khushi is visiting neighbours, he is proposing a something close by. please come.
payal jumps to her feet and requests him to leave.
as she hurries off, he catches hold of her hand to stop her. and something ignites. not akash ji and payal ji for this moment. they were just akash and payal and an "i want you" unspoken between them.
akash had something smouldering in him too as did payal. within the essential calmer, quieter make up of their personalities, there was the possibility of passion. one that could have been used well in the story. we crib about the destruction of the tale, but i wonder is it possible to stay true to what you try to create if every week it has to be assessed for marketability and you are badgered to change things around, somehow fit that moment's "brief"? i have heard ved raj say that they had no idea payal and akash would become a couple when they started out but somehow these two seemed to come together well, so a track was created. might have been successful too. but the frenzy for trp, the silliness of thinking just showing lots of asr khushi with no real base/story coming along would solve all problems... not accepting the ebb and flow of everything, even trp... just finished it all off.
i can't cook a thing straight if too many dos and don'ts are stipulated... write a beautiful story? not possible i think.
in their moment too, a prelude... to what is still far away in the future. between asr and khushi, this exact gesture will be repeated with them. at least twice. akash and payal were often like mirrors in another timeline."shikayat toh nahin karna chahta, par aaj main parde ke pechhe chhupa, table ke neechhe bhi..." don't want to complain, but here's all that i suffered today for you... so cute akash is doing a gentle blackmail to get her to agree.
just when he thought he'd lost, she said she would, "it's very cold outside..." yes, it's delhi, payal... "hum shawl lekar aate hain..." i'll get a shawl.
her gallant offered her his jacket, pleading with her to hurry up, before anyone woke up and came into the room and discovered him... one threat of that having just been averted, and in the bargain much suffered.
he is about to get up and leave. but he is stuck to the chair.
so started a round of comedy with the lover stuck to a chair, though mysteriously at one point a sheet appeared, it covered the back of the chair, and found its way to the space between the stuck posterior and the cushion. nothing, as they say, is impossible.
a great struggle to free the midnight lover boy ensued. bua ji woke up. quilts were thrown to cover the truth. bua ji almost beat the boy to a pulp, but payal showed courage and brains and a presence of mine that saved her young man's life.
it was a riot.
and in it was another scene soon to come in a new avatar. a shot of mr akash singh raizada under the dusty musty quilt, a precursor to the angry mr raizada in a similar state but in a totally different frenzy.
finally payal convinces the stentorian aunt, that she would manage all, you just go to sleep in peace... "aap aram se so jaiye buaji... hum kar lenge." in a short while khushi will be saying the same thing to bua ji. the whole evening the two girls will try to get bua to sleep and get up to some ahem with the boys... hawww.
just like those bad bad girls they are not not not at all like. this is terribly cute. human nature i guess, when romance arrives, a little clandestine behaviour becomes de rigueur.
"khushi agar hoti..." if khushi were here... payal needs khushi to solve problems... but she doesn't have her phone with her.
"payal ji payal ji payal ji, mujhe chhorkar mat jaiye... bua ji phir wapas aa gayi toh" akash exhorts payal not to leave the room, in case bua ji arrives again... akash, chill baby. poor man in such a state... akshay almost convinced me that he was indeed glued to the chair.
"m... m...mein bhai ko phone lagata hoon..." khushi is payal's and asr is akash's problem solver...
bhai is at laptop, looking grim... and sort of ddg. i need to pause and gape.
"hello...bhai..." whispers akash. shush, bua ji will come... she the gabbar singh of this sholay night. two men, two women and a formidable villain. khushi will definitely go basanti later something tells me.
"hello, akash, tum itna dheere kyun bol rahe ho?" akash, why are you talking so softly! ah the frisson of impatience in the voice already.
he is stuck, wails akash. yeah, asr is not surprised, bro had gone there to get embroiled in things romantic.
"bhai bhai... main waisa nahin phansa hua nahin hoon, main chair pe phansa hua hoon... bahut boori tarah se." no, bhai, i am not stuck in that, i'm glued to a chair... badly.
aaah so... but someone else will be "waise phansa hua" soon. stuck like that...
a major explanation is furnished by akash... silent film style only on music. then "what!" an expletive splits the night.
followed by "that's ridiculous. now what!"
if you'd come... akash pleads.
"main nahin aa raha akash, tum uss khushi kumari gupta se help le lo... waise bhi usske paas bahut saare stupid ideas hotey hain..."
i'm not coming, akash, you take help from that kkg, she has many stupid ideas.
khushi is not here.
akash is visualising the new year morning with him glued to the chair, babu ji walking in. is stuck/glued another soon to come theme?
"yeah ok...main aata hoon." bhai can't take it, he capitulates.
bhai! bhai!... meri ek pant la aana... please, please get me a pair of pants, akash requests his impatient bro.
an exasperated look...
and we have nk doing his quilt act. once satisfied with his camouflage, "khushi ji... main aa raha hoon," he declares to flamenco beat in bg. khushi ji, i'm coming.
somebody else is also coming to not see uss khushi k g.
when he arrives at gh and realises she's not here... "thank god, yahan pe nahin hai..." thank g, she's not here. so he has given that 12 o'clock thing credence. and why that forlorn look as if uh huh, he almost wishes she were around.
akash: haanh?
asr looks back startled and immediately guards his expression... "er, nothing. let's, er, get your problem fixed."
sabse pehle sabse simple cheez try karte hain. let's try the simplest thing first.
simple?
akash is rather good as the uncertain ditherer.
tense moments...
"payal ji, yeh glue lagta hai bahut achhi quality ki bani hai..." payal, looks like this glue is of very good quality, akash battles frustration in his way. wonder what would have happened if bhai were stuck instead. poor chair, would certainly not have survived.
he's of course, carrying some glue dissolver or whatever they are called. payal is sent away by the boys as the operation glue bye bye takes off.
memories of eighth standard summer holidays visit, akash recalls glue on his bed and being stranded there the whole day.
"why are you telling me... i didn't do it," says bhai. but what's that look?
liar.
thank g she ain't here.
liar.
i hate you.
liar liar.
he is not carrying trousers for akash, so bounds into khushi's room to ask payal to get some pants for her fiance, and bangs against the chair.
soon a fashion statement by lover boy akash. dapper in pa in law to be's big bad pants. (um, doesn't shashi ji always wear pyjamas though? hmmm, socheka padi.)
"bhai, kaisa lag raha hai." how am i looking, asks the desperate akash. what a hot date, in these sexy clothes. poor boy.
"bahut achhe lag rahe ho..." you're looking great, snaps back the un-simpatico bro... as in stop asking stupid question, get on with doing what you came here to do.
payal says sweetly, "haan achcha hi lag raha hai." yeah, it's looking good. takes up for the underdog always, this young woman.
hotwa stands in the night waiting.
lovers retire to nearby huddle. darwaza bhi nahin lock karna padega... the door won't have to be locked. niiice touch.
he is about to leave... when... oops no phone... and where could it be... inside... goes in after a lovely bit of considering things.
i enjoyed the entire setting up of asr reaching khushi's room at the right time.. sahi waqt was key to this episode, wasn't it? every detail was taken care of to transit asr to kkg's domain, for a little hamesha making. well written, light and crazy yet focused.
in walks madam jalebi and cracks standard see you next year joke on her way into her home... she will have such a good time with jiji...
lariya bhi toh jalane hai... kuchh achha bhi toh mangna hai. got to light crackers, and ask for something good.
well something gorgeous is standing in your room. did you ask for it?
in dimmed light, among shadows and whispers, a clandestine air clung to the episode. at times stung by sheer nefariousness, at others touched by passion. and at least once, lit up by an unexpected spark in the heart, quickly snuffed by a lie.
the entire episode felt like a prelude in many ways. a build up to something big, the bated breath of the last evening of the year in it. what did the coming year hold? what was to happen at 12 midnight...
shyam swayed with his wife by the pool. a deadly wire waiting to spell death. she so trusting, so gullible. he peculiarly devoid of any conscience. all set to kill her merely because she comes in the way of him grabbing his latest fancy. khushi ji.
she would have gone too, if an elder hadn't stepped out at the right moment. mama ji.
"bhagwan ke sukar hai hum aa gaye sahi waqt pe..." thank g, i came out here at the right time, said mama ji in his customary quiet yet astute way. there was a sharpness in him, an ability to love, and perhaps a man who was romantic in his own way, seeking a more lusty mate than the upper middle class women of his generation.
sahi waqt. right time. why did i get the feeling, this was a little peek into the future. story would bring us to a point where mama ji would arrive at a timely hour again, to reveal the truth of shyam. remember him and shyam at that key makers'? what happened to all those hints that were dropped? all vanished, along with this understated actor with an endearing hold on tongue in cheek humour.
in a darkened living room at khushi's place, mama ji's son, like his father a romantic at heart, has come to woo his lady love. amol palekar in the mid seventies comes to mind. the classic portrayal of the middle class everyman with a gentle tender quiet lover in him. his view of romance a little different from the matinee idol's with spark, storm and thunder. no no, here a shimmery caressing sort of breeze of feelings... wafting, lilting, and seeking sweet affirmation.
but tonight akash, when thwarted by his cautious payal ji, showed the thrill of passion. in just one unexpectedly grabbed and held hand.
payal is confused... and excited... and scared.. not used to midnight trysts clearly. akash has planned a surprise for her, gallantly he holds out his hand... will you come with me... she is of course demurring. they sit at the gupta house dining table, pickle jar in front (365 days a year the jar sits there... when does the pickle ever get ready?).
akash reasons with her, everyone's sleeping, khushi is visiting neighbours, he is proposing a something close by. please come.
payal jumps to her feet and requests him to leave.
as she hurries off, he catches hold of her hand to stop her. and something ignites. not akash ji and payal ji for this moment. they were just akash and payal and an "i want you" unspoken between them.
akash had something smouldering in him too as did payal. within the essential calmer, quieter make up of their personalities, there was the possibility of passion. one that could have been used well in the story. we crib about the destruction of the tale, but i wonder is it possible to stay true to what you try to create if every week it has to be assessed for marketability and you are badgered to change things around, somehow fit that moment's "brief"? i have heard ved raj say that they had no idea payal and akash would become a couple when they started out but somehow these two seemed to come together well, so a track was created. might have been successful too. but the frenzy for trp, the silliness of thinking just showing lots of asr khushi with no real base/story coming along would solve all problems... not accepting the ebb and flow of everything, even trp... just finished it all off.
i can't cook a thing straight if too many dos and don'ts are stipulated... write a beautiful story? not possible i think.
in their moment too, a prelude... to what is still far away in the future. between asr and khushi, this exact gesture will be repeated with them. at least twice. akash and payal were often like mirrors in another timeline."shikayat toh nahin karna chahta, par aaj main parde ke pechhe chhupa, table ke neechhe bhi..." don't want to complain, but here's all that i suffered today for you... so cute akash is doing a gentle blackmail to get her to agree.
just when he thought he'd lost, she said she would, "it's very cold outside..." yes, it's delhi, payal... "hum shawl lekar aate hain..." i'll get a shawl.
her gallant offered her his jacket, pleading with her to hurry up, before anyone woke up and came into the room and discovered him... one threat of that having just been averted, and in the bargain much suffered.
he is about to get up and leave. but he is stuck to the chair.
so started a round of comedy with the lover stuck to a chair, though mysteriously at one point a sheet appeared, it covered the back of the chair, and found its way to the space between the stuck posterior and the cushion. nothing, as they say, is impossible.
a great struggle to free the midnight lover boy ensued. bua ji woke up. quilts were thrown to cover the truth. bua ji almost beat the boy to a pulp, but payal showed courage and brains and a presence of mine that saved her young man's life.
it was a riot.
and in it was another scene soon to come in a new avatar. a shot of mr akash singh raizada under the dusty musty quilt, a precursor to the angry mr raizada in a similar state but in a totally different frenzy.
finally payal convinces the stentorian aunt, that she would manage all, you just go to sleep in peace... "aap aram se so jaiye buaji... hum kar lenge." in a short while khushi will be saying the same thing to bua ji. the whole evening the two girls will try to get bua to sleep and get up to some ahem with the boys... hawww.
just like those bad bad girls they are not not not at all like. this is terribly cute. human nature i guess, when romance arrives, a little clandestine behaviour becomes de rigueur.
"khushi agar hoti..." if khushi were here... payal needs khushi to solve problems... but she doesn't have her phone with her.
"payal ji payal ji payal ji, mujhe chhorkar mat jaiye... bua ji phir wapas aa gayi toh" akash exhorts payal not to leave the room, in case bua ji arrives again... akash, chill baby. poor man in such a state... akshay almost convinced me that he was indeed glued to the chair.
"m... m...mein bhai ko phone lagata hoon..." khushi is payal's and asr is akash's problem solver...
bhai is at laptop, looking grim... and sort of ddg. i need to pause and gape.
"hello...bhai..." whispers akash. shush, bua ji will come... she the gabbar singh of this sholay night. two men, two women and a formidable villain. khushi will definitely go basanti later something tells me.
"hello, akash, tum itna dheere kyun bol rahe ho?" akash, why are you talking so softly! ah the frisson of impatience in the voice already.
he is stuck, wails akash. yeah, asr is not surprised, bro had gone there to get embroiled in things romantic.
"bhai bhai... main waisa nahin phansa hua nahin hoon, main chair pe phansa hua hoon... bahut boori tarah se." no, bhai, i am not stuck in that, i'm glued to a chair... badly.
aaah so... but someone else will be "waise phansa hua" soon. stuck like that...
a major explanation is furnished by akash... silent film style only on music. then "what!" an expletive splits the night.
followed by "that's ridiculous. now what!"
if you'd come... akash pleads.
"main nahin aa raha akash, tum uss khushi kumari gupta se help le lo... waise bhi usske paas bahut saare stupid ideas hotey hain..."
i'm not coming, akash, you take help from that kkg, she has many stupid ideas.
khushi is not here.
akash is visualising the new year morning with him glued to the chair, babu ji walking in. is stuck/glued another soon to come theme?
"yeah ok...main aata hoon." bhai can't take it, he capitulates.
bhai! bhai!... meri ek pant la aana... please, please get me a pair of pants, akash requests his impatient bro.
an exasperated look...
and we have nk doing his quilt act. once satisfied with his camouflage, "khushi ji... main aa raha hoon," he declares to flamenco beat in bg. khushi ji, i'm coming.
somebody else is also coming to not see uss khushi k g.
when he arrives at gh and realises she's not here... "thank god, yahan pe nahin hai..." thank g, she's not here. so he has given that 12 o'clock thing credence. and why that forlorn look as if uh huh, he almost wishes she were around.
akash: haanh?
asr looks back startled and immediately guards his expression... "er, nothing. let's, er, get your problem fixed."
sabse pehle sabse simple cheez try karte hain. let's try the simplest thing first.
simple?
akash is rather good as the uncertain ditherer.
tense moments...
"payal ji, yeh glue lagta hai bahut achhi quality ki bani hai..." payal, looks like this glue is of very good quality, akash battles frustration in his way. wonder what would have happened if bhai were stuck instead. poor chair, would certainly not have survived.
he's of course, carrying some glue dissolver or whatever they are called. payal is sent away by the boys as the operation glue bye bye takes off.
memories of eighth standard summer holidays visit, akash recalls glue on his bed and being stranded there the whole day.
"why are you telling me... i didn't do it," says bhai. but what's that look?
liar.
thank g she ain't here.
liar.
i hate you.
liar liar.
he is not carrying trousers for akash, so bounds into khushi's room to ask payal to get some pants for her fiance, and bangs against the chair.
soon a fashion statement by lover boy akash. dapper in pa in law to be's big bad pants. (um, doesn't shashi ji always wear pyjamas though? hmmm, socheka padi.)
"bhai, kaisa lag raha hai." how am i looking, asks the desperate akash. what a hot date, in these sexy clothes. poor boy.
"bahut achhe lag rahe ho..." you're looking great, snaps back the un-simpatico bro... as in stop asking stupid question, get on with doing what you came here to do.
payal says sweetly, "haan achcha hi lag raha hai." yeah, it's looking good. takes up for the underdog always, this young woman.
hotwa stands in the night waiting.
lovers retire to nearby huddle. darwaza bhi nahin lock karna padega... the door won't have to be locked. niiice touch.
he is about to leave... when... oops no phone... and where could it be... inside... goes in after a lovely bit of considering things.
i enjoyed the entire setting up of asr reaching khushi's room at the right time.. sahi waqt was key to this episode, wasn't it? every detail was taken care of to transit asr to kkg's domain, for a little hamesha making. well written, light and crazy yet focused.
in walks madam jalebi and cracks standard see you next year joke on her way into her home... she will have such a good time with jiji...
lariya bhi toh jalane hai... kuchh achha bhi toh mangna hai. got to light crackers, and ask for something good.
well something gorgeous is standing in your room. did you ask for it?
...............................
episode 157 love under the table
i think it was around 10:45 that i started feeling the restlessness. almost half the episode was done and yet no sign of sanka devi or laad governor, what was up? i must have seen the episode a couple of times before but for some reason i had not taken note of the fact that there was actually no sign or sight of khushi and asr in this one.
has that ever happened before? a whole chapter without both hero and heroine? okay, while this does not go down well with me, i guess the guys needed a break. daily soaps can be the most draining thing for the leads.
in this trying hard to be considerate viewer mode i will say, the episode wasn't as flat as you'd expect minus essential elements. it didn't peak or had you completely wrapped around its little finger, but it didn't tank either with you in head desk frenzy.
akash and payal and bua ji created enough stir and craziness to have me laughing. akshay can be pretty funny and he is really good with the lost hapless akash bit. deepali was funny, it almost looked as though she wished khushi would appear and relieve her of the duty of bringing humour to the story, but she was not bad. bua ji of course had so much fun overacting like mad. lavanya would have surely told her not to overdo it. the triangle though did work and time passed merrily.
nothing made an indelible mark but it was all rather sweet.
snake on the other hand was creepy as usual and that whole romancing the wife before killing her business was bilious. mama ji interrupted. snake looked worried. anjali smiled and preened and looked thrilled at her husband's lovey dovey behaviour.
first time i watched i had thought snake might succeed in causing injury. i was so relieved when that didn't happen. i needn't have rejoiced, we know what he did succeed in doing later.
surprisingly, the man who during the first half of the story failed at succeeding with every plan he cooked up, suddenly was invincible in the second half. he could fool asr, he could kidnap, kill, dupe, even be wooed back by khushi... what, as they say... ever.
akash and payal romanced under the table. he actually tricked her into holding and stroking the hand that was not injured... how brave and romantic, teehee. but he was rather cute when he asked if he could sit on the chair after all the table under fun.
affected by khushi ji's sanka, the writers have worked out a far fetched, completely lunatic yarn to get arnav ji here... for that midnight moment.
...............................
episode 156 meet me at midnight
"ro rahi thi, bhai... mujhe unse milna hi padega..." she was crying, brother... i must meet her, said akash with a lost troubled look.
a comic slant with a generous dash of slapstick in it got going through most of the episode. happy slapstick though, delivered with enjoyment by all actors. especially the three bhais and the one sanka devi.
it's all about the meeting at 12 midnight. in hindi "bara baj gaye" or twelve o'clock has struck means things have come undone, gone haywire. well there would be some haywire going at midnight soon.
but before that, it's bara baj gaye for me as a man looks indescribably good in a frame all black and brown and colourless. a simple shot, man in dark brown sits on brown and black chair and looks at black laptop. he is doing nothing, just staring at a screen, his fingers on the keyboard. how can such a shot have the mind riveted... something vivid, and magnetic about asr, about barun sobti. the very air around him seems charged and full of bated excitement.
it's the poolside and the bromance is easy. as i watch i note that asr did indeed try everything he could not to go anywhere near kkg. but alas that was not to be. for nand kissore again had initiated a game. he had jet lag after four days and couldn't accompany lover boy akash on his midnight tryst.
asr was not taken in by the young lad from down under, yet he said nothing much. maybe without his knowledge, his heart too was wanting to see a certain face that night, the cusp between the old and the new.
no doubt at all that all kkg could think of this evening was that laad governor. hey devi maiyya, she must make sure she doesn't come before him, she would stay at home, go nowhere, that way of course she wouldn't meet him.
writers played along all the characters and undercurrents and subconscious desires to a point where it became clear that the man who had loudly interjected "no!!" at the mention of going to lakshminagar, will be going exactly there.
at any other point in story this whole thing might have seemed forced, but these are the topsy turvy days around a wedding. things acquire a different mood then and a lot of things that would be unthinkable otherwise seem quite normal.
i can't imagine asr sitting and wasting time on how and when his cousin will meet his fiance. in fact, he is a bit brusque about it all as he should be.
and akash is suddenly so shy that he needs bhai for moral support? he had managed to fall for and woo payal ji all by himself, pushing those specs up on his nose, sounding a bit goofy but sincerely and truly in love. ah well.
"boring and unromantic," nk said asr's plan for akash and payal's meeting was
asr was unfazed. it's practical, won't fail. that "practical" tugged at something in me. born with a yearning for something afar, those eyes always glittering and looking out to what who knows, asr seemed to almost turn away from that side consciously and woo his practical gene. he believed he was a practical man. all this love romance pyaar, etc., were not meant for someone like him, that was the kind of thing di was into. he had no idea, did he, how terrifically romantic he really was.
and he was a clever man with a crisp incisive sense of the moment. when there was talk of khushi's superior ability at making plans, he decided to have some fun.
"toh tum khushi say idea lene wale ho..." so you're going to take ideas from khushi, he said to akash. akash said, yes. "all the best," said man in brown and walked off.
the fairylights suddenly caught my attention, this viewing. snake was going to use fairylight wires to kill anjali. that too at the poolside.
but fairylights belong to a girl in green wrapped in them and a man unable to disentangle himself from the swirls of feelings all about him, in him... right here at this poolside.
so in asr's hands the glimmering lights become emissaries of dhakdhak and in shyam's hands they become the messenger of death.
interesting writing.
also, i think by 156, the forum had become most active with a whole host of smart, vocal woman from all over the world having fun here. their voice used to be heard by the makers. i remember when i joined people talking about how things being discussed here were finding there way to the story.
when anjali switched words and said shyam came up the window and came in through the pipe.. pipe se andar aaye... instead of saying it the other way around, i had a feeling gautam hegde or hitesh kewaliya were sort of laughing along with the forum's favourite name for shyam... snake.
couple of other dialogues that were funny:
anjali's saying of akash, "yeh hamare ghar ke sabse sharif aur sabse suljhe hue bachhe hain..." he is our home's most decent and simple boy, i had to giggle. yeah the other one is definitely not sharif... loves being badtameez, khadoos and many other awful things.
in nk's room amid the confusion and chaos of jet lag and nk's malapropism, soon after he'd said "main parvat badlata raha..." instead of karvat... so it came out, i kept changing mountains... akash looked at asr perplexed and muttered
"kaunse parvat?" which mountains?
"i don't know," said asr. perfect pitching and really funny.
i noticed the background score was a refrain from satte pe satta... upbeat, rambunctious fun suggested in it.
in the meantime khushi made jalebi and obsessed about asr. uss asr.
the stage is set. snake has promised a "jhatka" at midnight meaning the electric shock he's engineered. thankfully the jhatka will shift and pass current elsewhere; while his plan, not practical and unnecessarily elaborate, will fail.
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Sunday, 14 February 2016
ncofl... never on a new year: chapter 5
he looked at the tip of the stem, brow scrunched, lips pursed, willing his mind to focus. he was not going to think of anything else now. he would snip the stem just where he knew he must, he was…
“am i speaking to mr raizada… mr arnav singh raizada?” she had a poised voice, he could tell from the way she said his name, especially the “r,” that she wasn’t indian. she sounded… asian? yeah, asian.
all this he had processed and thought in less than a fraction of a moment. a sudden chill had come into the air, and it wasn’t because it was winter in delhi.
he had replied curtly, “yes!”
she had seemed to laugh just a little. he had frowned.
asr tried not to think of what she said after that as he placed the edge of the clippers on the stem. but the thoughts wouldn’t go away.
naho yamakawa, that was her name. she was the wife of dave ogawa, the obnoxious little man from shima. she was in fact the daughter of the major stakeholder in the company, he had no idea she was involved with running the business. asr grimaced.
ms yamakawa had introduced herself and then said after a little pause, “mr raizada… i heard about your meeting this morning… may i apologise on my husband’s behalf. i hope you will allow us to take the discussion further.”
there was a bold clear simplicity in the way she spoke. when she’d realised she had called at such an early hour, she’d been contrite. he had sensed she had miscalculated the time possibly because she was agitated. it was obvious she was nothing like her husband. there was refinement in her way of speaking and she seemed to know her business well. she also wanted to work with ar. she had been looking, she’d said, for some time for a fashion house in india…
asr let the woody tip fall as he cut it off and moved toward another stem that needed to be trimmed. pruning in winter as the plants lay dormant was important. the camellia shrub was slightly overgrown, he would spend some time getting rid of what was not needed. the flowers were in many ways like roses, yet different… the pale pink of this one maa would have…
he shook his head and stopped the thought.
“i am looking for a line in mooga silk,” he heard naho’s quiet careful voice, “are you familiar with the silk, mr raizada?”
familiar?
a soft brush of a pallu on his face, a mere hint of a scent he had known always… maa liked mooga. or moonga silk as everyone called it in lucknow, in delhi… those days. moonga means gold, his mother would say. you only get this silk in one place in india… he remembered the golden glint… no, sheen… of the material, it was a little stiff, not like the other silks he’d seen, but then as you wore it for a while, it grew soft…
apparently, there were many japanese women who liked mooga, it had been popularised among people with an eclectic taste by a small family run boutique. naho yamakawa wanted to introduce the material to her clientele… in a line that was essentially western but had touches of the orient… she wanted to meet him and talk about it.
mooga… pure gold. unconsciously his fingers reached and caressed the thick shiny leaves of the camellia plant as if seeking to touch something… feel its texture, know it once more. he swallowed hard and went back to pruning. the first of january had not been an easy day for years. but it would get over soon.
and anyway, there was work to be done.
***
“naya saal mubarak ho, lakshmi ji!” khushi beamed down at the quadraped then gave her a hug.
lakshmi ji, by now quite used to the new members of the family and their ways, rubbed her chin against khushi’s kurta and gave a little, “meh… meh…”
she had a feeling there would be a reward for that soon. a palm heaped with crunchy things came into her line of vision and a very happy goat leaned forward to grab a mouthful of crisp chane.
“how am i looking today? nice na, lakshmi ji… kyun!” khushi said chirpily, she was very pleased with her deep red churidar kurta with gold gota and pure zaree pompoms. she wanted something dressy for the day. it was new year, not just another day, after all.
“aap bahut hi mahurat lag rahin hain, khushi ji!” it was nk, who had just come into the sitting room still looking sleepy, his hair tousled. khushi turned to him and beamed.
(you’re looking very auspicious time, khushi ji!)
“mahurat nahin, nanhe ji…” she started to correct him.
(not auspicious time, nanhi ji…)
“khubsoorat!” payal said walking out of the kitchen carrying bowls of kheer, “khushi, stop preening and thinking no end of yourself,” she admonished as her younger sister made a face, “go call arnav ji and everyone else… breakfast is ready.”
(beautiful!)
“but you are looking very pretty, khushi..” anjali said from the dining area, she grinned and winked at payal, “if one elder sister won’t pamper, the other must, kyun! tell chhotey i’ve made sugarless kheer for him…”
“di!” it was asr, he was rolling down his sleeves as he came from the poolside, “i hate the stuff… no sugarless kheer…!” he scowled at the offensive bowl sitting on the table. then abruptly said, “payal, give me some kheer, will you!”
he sounded terse.
anjali looked at him, surprised. concern filled her gaze.
khushi said without thinking, “but, arnav ji… you aren’t supposed to…”
“i’ll decide what i am supposed to or not!” asr said in a clipped brusque tone, picked up a bowl from the tray payal was carrying and left the room as everyone watched absolutely nonplussed.
anjali looked after her brother silently, worry and sadness clouding her eyes. khushi stared at him mouth open. what had come over arnav ji! she would have snapped perhaps but then she saw di’s face…
***
he sat at his desk staring at the screen of his laptop. the office was empty, it was silent all around. he sought its calm and tried not to feel the sensation in the pit of his stomach.
mooga. he had to find out the particulars. how much was available. who produced it. was there any surplus, what would it cost… when was it made, were there any environmental issues… how did one ship it… assam… at the other end of the country, rich in natural wealth… petroleum, tea, silk… but a little cut off from the rest… upheavals at times… what was it like?
he picked up the phone and chose a number, still staring at the screen.
“hello? yes… salman? i was thinking… would you know anything about mooga silk? anyone in your family… around the tea estates? what? oh okay… yeah, maybe i’ll need to go over soon.. okay see you.. huh? what? yes yes.. happy new year!” he spoke to the young designer and went back to studying the material, beside him on the desk lay a thick tome on indian fabrics and textile and some copies of japanese fashion magazines.
“sara din agar aap kaale badal ke tarah dikhe toh kya sab khush ho jaayenge?” asr started as he heard her voice. khushi stood before him, her hands on her waist, an arch look on her face.
(if you look like a dark cloud the whole day will everyone be happy?)
he frowned at her and snapped.
“kaale badal… whaaat? khushi, what’re you saying, dammit! why are you here?!” his voice rose sharply, partly because he was taken aback, partly because he was angry.
khushi came up to his desk, put her hands on it and leaned forward, her face grim.
“don’t think i am scared of you! you’ll do whatever you please and everyone will keep quiet you think?” khushi said, her anger evident in her voice. her hazel eyes flashed, her bosom heaved, asr stared at her.
“aap apne ko nuksaan pahunchayenge aur hum sab sirf chup chap dekhenge? aap kissi se kuch nahin kahenge, hum se bhi nahin… what had you said… no shouted! yes, shouted… ‘you’ll marry me… now!’ just because you believed you had to… not because you loved me even! that is allowed, mr arnav singh raizada, but hum is not allowed to know anything about you, do anything for you… bas dekhte rahein aap ki taqleef… aur… aur… ”
khushi’s voice had risen and sounded quite stern till now, suddenly it was wobbly… she took a deep breath, steadied herself and continued, “you’ll eat anything… anything! even though it’s not good for you… k..k..kill yourself…” khushi had no idea but she was bawling by now.
“no, mr raizada, i am not… i am not… dammit! you are!” khushi cried out and sobbed, her breath shaken, tears beginning to stream down her face. she could never explain to him the feeling that had gone through her as he’d picked up a bowl of kheer full of sugar and stalked out, refusing to talk to anyone. she had sat through breakfast quietly wondering what to do. later she had gone looking for him and was told by op, who was clearing up the garden by the poolside where arnav ji had been working since early morning even before she had woken up, that he had left for the office. she knew this day was not easy for him so she had tried not to crowd him, stayed away, hoping he’d feel a bit better. she was touched by what he had done for her the previous evening.
but when he reached for the kheer…
(you’ll harm yourself and we’ll just watch without saying a thing? you won’t say anything to anyone, not even me… what had you said… no shouted! yes, shouted…’you’ll marry me… now!’ just because you believed you had to… not because you loved me even! that is allowed, mr arnav singh raizada, but i am not allowed to know anything about you, do anything for you… just keep watching you in pain… and… and…)
“shhh! khushi, no…” his voice was low and yet it made her listen. she stopped stuttering and crying and looked at him. he was still sitting on the other side. his eyes were fixed on her face. they glittered like pebbles. she could read nothing in them. she stared mesmerised still… how could eyes have so much shine in them she wondered. his lips began to stretch… was he smiling? she saw a helpless look pass across his face… she wanted to run to him. but something held her rooted to the spot. something said, stay… don’t move.
“who said i didn’t love you even?” his voice was hoarse and the words seemed to just leave him of their own volition. he leaned forward and reached out, his fingers, long and brown, touched her left cheek… a touch that had grown familiar, that she needed… stroking away the tears, they moved to her forehead and tucked a strand of errant hair behind her hair.
he looked at her without blinking, a steady long gaze. she could see his eyes grow hungry slowly. she felt her own heart beat quicken, her lips crave something.
khushi caught his fingers and gave him a weepy smile.
his lips stretched… at an angle… this time it was a smile.
his shoulders moved once… again.. then he snorted.
khushi frowned. what? that jwalamukhi… that magarmach that frangipani…
“i won’t die if i have one bowl of kheer, khushi…” he tried to say evenly but he clearly laughing.
khushi made to pull away in a huff but he had caught hold of her hands in a firm grip by then and was walking around the desk already.
even though he laughed, here was a fire in him she knew… he dragged her into his arms roughly but his voice was the most tender as he said, “so you called me dammit!”
khushi sighed and threw her arms around him. she had felt so terribly left out the whole day and worried for him… why couldn’t she have fallen in love with an easier to understand man, she wondered, then she quickly shelved the idea and looked up at him adoringly.
asr saw the smiling face, the bright grey green eyes, right now the grey was iridescent, golden… he felt something draining from within and an animated exhilaration begin to make its way in. this girl was crazy and she was beautiful… most importantly she was his.
he smiled, his teeth flashing. he went to kiss her but held back…
what is it that goes on between a man and a woman in a space of time not recorded anywhere in any annals but for a split second surely eternity was there, and everything went to still, perhaps even time. a topsy turvy moment. when lips know a tingling, eyes search, sensation is born on fingertips, and in some corner of a mind or heart or some other vital organ a person becomes part of another. what is such a moment called, or do such moments never have a name…
“arnav ji,” khushi whispered, her eyes now fixed on his lips, she could see them thinning slightly.
“khushi…” even as he murmured her name he was drawing closer, kissing her eyes, her nose, then her lips… he had picked her up in his arms and was sitting on his chair, leaning back, letting her lie across him, upon him, pulling her near, running his hand over her back, his breathing erratic, rubbing his stubble on her cheek, her chin, her neck, smiling at her little protests, turning his face to kiss her again, listening to her sigh of contentment…
she had been angry with him and for some reason that had felt good. she had looked stunning… though how one managed that in pompoms and gota continued to remain a mystery. his mind checked his thoughts… he was again perhaps trying to run away… maybe because of that damn wetness behind his lids. tears. stinging and warm.
he swallowed hard and kissed her deeper, he felt the swell of her breasts against his chest, her breath…
mooga… he would go looking for it, he decided. long time since he had sat beside her in a plane. a pallu seemed to brush across his face, a faint familiar scent…
***
“aap yahan kaise aa gaye?” khushi shrieked as she saw the white pigeon. she peered at it, yes, the eyes were red. it was her old friend from lucknow, no doubt about it. and now he was sitting here in the garden at shantivan.
(how did you get here?)
it was almost five in the evening, she had left arnav ji after a most satisfying lunch at the dhaba near his office. he had watched resignedly as she had polished off her three parathe, one makki ki roti, a bowl of raita, another of sarson ka saag, some lasooni chutney with it, plus a couple of hot bhajiyas, she particularly liked the brinjal one, then there had been a round of ice cream at the parlour. he had asked for a bottle of mineral water and taken a swig from it every once in a while. he’d said he would grab a bite later. beside that bowl of kheer…
khushi had wanted to throw the sarson ka saag at him.
after she was done, he’d walked her to the car, kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose and said, “mind that temper, khushi kumari gupta singh raizada! i might get to like it too much.”
khushi had blushed violently remembering what had happened in the office earlier.
he had waited till mohan ji had driven out of the parking lot, then gone back to work.
she blushed once more at the memory. really, arnav ji just didn’t understand that you couldn’t… couldn’t…
“kahiye, kabootar ji, koi aise karta hai kya… woh bhi saal ke pehle din… aur office mein…” khushi muttered to the bird.
(say, mr pigeon, does anyone behave like this… that too on the first day of the year… and in the office… )
“shut up, khushi! stop talking to the bird!” asr said from right behind. he must have come into the garden through the poolside door.
khushi went as red as her deep red churidar kurta, her pompoms swung wildly. she felt his arms go around her from the back. he pecked her lightly on the neck and asked, “think your kabootar will fly with us to assam?”
a banner by sunshine 80, i fell for the greys and and the intensity.
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