Tuesday, 20 March 2018

an incredible man this asr







what made him exciting and precious was not his tortured past and the jagged edges thanks to it. there are many characters in all sorts of literature and arts who have the appeal of the cut and torn. heathcliff. othello. my little obsession, don draper. oh there are many and all of us i'm sure have a favourite or two.
 


what made asr beautiful to me, was the way he dealt with his share of rain, his terrible difficulties at a very young age. he faced it, fair and square. he never ran away into fantasy or try to make it better with stories and platitudes. it is true, people say they can understand what you feel, but no one can ever feel the emotions you go through when you cremate both your parents, touching them with the fire that will annihilate, end it all.

his entire sense of trust was badly shaken. his father had betrayed his mother, him and his sister too. the father is a place of trust, respect, solidity. none of that for this boy of fourteen. gone in a moment.

along with it, his haven of love, shelter, growth: his mother.

how terrible that his mother had killed herself because of his father's actions. his beloved mother who tried to teach her taciturn, angry, little chhotey the meaning of life, the value of conscience, of examining things, of giving the rose a chance.

he could have easily become incredibly bitter, harsh, cold. and rich and materially successful, while being drop dead good looking. oh yes, even that would have made him an exciting man, especially watching a woman break through layers of this darkness to matter like mad would be delicious.

but asr went much further than that. he did it his way.

(ok me sucker for individualistic people, do their own thing, prepared to face the consequences, but think and act according to what they feel is right, sounds familiar?)

he held the pain by its horn and charged right back at it, with all of himself, not some cut and lacerated bits of him, everything that's him, the good, the bad, the scared, the broken, the laughing, everything. he promised himself he'd make it ok for all those he loved. that trust, that respect, that solidity, he would restore all of it. he will be nothing like his father (though interestingly the writers gave him his dad's anger issues, wish they had dome something with it), he was nothing like him. he would be honest, clean, hard working, dependable.

and he would not depend on anyone else, i feel this came from the extreme sense of betrayal he felt re one person, the one he depended on, perhaps at some point even his hero: his father.

no god, kismet, fate. asr would make his own destiny himself. no problem if his di and whole family needed their bhagwan to make things happen. he wouldn't try to change them, another sign of strength in my eyes. but he would go it alone. if power and money were what mattered, he'd create enough never to have to look back. of course, there was much about life the boy had to learn, and go way beyond power and money, but his way of dealing with tragedy and his clear eyed courage in taking it all on... breathtaking. my feeling, there was lots of asr's mother and her essential positivity and integrity in his basic character. so even when he seemed harsh and terrible, some part in him always breathed and felt human. ah the guest house scene. dead.

only one concession to the turmoil, and maybe only because a part of him just ached and cried within (for which child would not want their dad to be who they thought he was), maybe that's why the closing down of his heart in one matter. women and love. arnav singh raizada ko kissi ladki se koi faraq nahin padta. a boy was keeping his hurt inside and away, while somehow trying to make amends to his mom. don't worry, i won't ever fall like that, i will always love you and di and my family with all of me. i will be there. i will not fall and become like him, your husband. no place for women inside me, no allowing them in. no getting carried away to saansey ruk jaygi moments. di, you're becoming like nirupa roy every day. a fabulous defence put up by one shattered within and trying to stay calm and strong. (all my conjectures, all may be wrong.)

by giving himself a real job to do in crisis i feel he saved himself. anger brought intensity, but he let his intelligence bring guidance.

his primary reason for going forward was not hate, it became love. for his sister. he anchored himself there, and went into the future, as its maker. this indomitable spirit and not the tortured soul is what made him so very dear to me. not just another troubled, good looker, i wanted to hold in my arms and nurse back to love and such stuff. but a man i admired and wanted to learn from, thrilled me to hear his views on life, love, god, work, and more.

sorry, just coming out of asr deprivation tank, had to write an essay on the man. a bit all over the place, but you know this character deserves as deep a delve as any macbeth othello gora karna heathcliff. 


today is exactly 19 months (wrote this 30 june 2014) since the last episode of ipk and asr... yet he continues unfettered in many minds and hearts, discussions, chats, arguments, edits, vms, everywhere. i wrote this a while ago, made the edit today... wanted to share. please do leave your thoughts and opinions here... looking forward to a cool and happy thread, maybe a little chaotically dhakdhak but hopefully no nastiness. that is reserved only for the incredible one.


as i post this again, it's end of march 2018, more than five years and four months since the last episode of the show. i still feel my breath slowing and a slight choking as i write this. i still speak of asr like he's right there, i still want to see what he might do in a difficult moment, in a lighthearted moment, in a moment with a girl who makes him go "unbelievable".







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episode rambles 
fanfiction




Thursday, 3 September 2015

after the first rabba vey



thanks to a dear friend i found online, i discovered this whole thing called "online" i think with ipk, this post got written along with frantic edit making. the amount of things a daily hindi soap helped me learn, and had us all discussing and pondering was always something else. brilliant acting takes your mind on journeys unknown and often adventurous. seat belt is mandatory, for your own safety.


........ 

real life, kizh... always so challenging... moulding and making us.

i feel for your dad's family... and really i saw glimpses from my life and those i love here in ipk.

he does draw away after rabba vey, you are right. it bothers the heck out of him. he gets nastier... then after the incident in the rain... that sudden stopping in the middle of the road... why... why am i doing this. there's so much there and the rain wraps, falls, enters, echoes, thunderclaps tell stories... a welt in him is almost palpable... he is like a soldier prepared for battle... he cannot feel bad... he cannot be wrong... he will not feel bad... not about her. he is correct... arnav singh raizada ko kissi ladki se koi faraq nahin padta. that clincher.

he has been saying this to himself for so long. koi faraq nahin padta.

everything that hurts him. bothers him. gets anywhere near his heart, his emotions. koi faraq nahin padta.

a sensitive man making himself insensitive. yet, can he? the ponder in the middle oif the road in the rain comes. because he is who he is. look at the flashbacks. at every point he is breaking, ripping and she is entering him. till the last one when she turns in her red saree and something in him tears, rends. after that... he must rush out in the rain and save her. the same he who had torn her dori, dropped her from his office let her fall, yanked her dupatta and torn it... he can't do that any more... after that turn... those tears in her eyes... oh he must send her away,... he must save her... why do i feel for the first time in my life i am wrong.

the music starts with his rage, enters his mind, his rumination, his pain, was their a flinch, the slightest one as he closed his eyes his head resting on the car? and then the soldier draws on all his strength, the music returns and he says... i will prevail, i will conquer... koi faraq nahin padta.

fabulous visual creation of this moment and sound too... so elemental... the almost darker than any thundercloud, his emotions more drenching more soaking than the rain. the claps of thunder like his mind being pulled mercilessly, whipped... he must scale it all and be himself. stay afloat... otherwise the night might take him. i love this scene... asr is here. dil dimag everything. a man you can't just call a serial hero.

some shots. i took 30. poetry.









he remembers running out and saving her... he had to...


and the car screeches to a halt.




the slow slow dissolves, the unhurried yet roiled space.



he steps out into the rain. something almost classical tragedy here. the elements are as though chasing him, making him feel think recant repent... but he will not relent... arnav singh raizada... character is destiny i have often thought looking at him.

and his thoughts come.



he slams the door. force. denial. anger.




he struggles... the rain takes him to places unknown.




sirf ussi ka chehra... he sounds harrassed, his voice rising, losing its remoteness... that main sahi hoon, so inward, and now at ussi ka chehra a feeling seeping in... only her face. yes, that rabba vey, that red... he is haunted by it. he cannot be. he must not be.



the voice struggles to regain control. he will not be affected. a keening sound to the music. this man has punished himself so hard for a tragedy that he is not to blame for, yet he seems to have a guilt sense attached to it... and that insane anger expresses so much. he cannot feel bad... he must be correct. i feel for this young man. what a sentence he has given himself, for there's no one he can punish for what happened... nor seek reparation or solace from. he has only himself. 




a delicate slow motion and dissolve...




a sense of raw pain coursing through him. he seems to flinch as if smote. crash of thunder.

he returns... so does his music.




ufff. koi shaq?

kizh... yes yes yes that rabba vey was such a first meeting for his dard and dimag... thank you for taking me on this ride. i am plunged in and wondering at the beauty of it all.