Thursday, 22 March 2018

what's in a...



and his name is samar.

and, of course, there’s no connection with the fact that for a long time today i read and thought about a poem called samar shesh hai by dinkar. samar? i thought, when i read a quote on a twitter profile. that’s a name... what does samar shesh hai mean? so i found the poem. does samar shesh hai mean the fight isn’t over? does samar mean fight? samar... warrior... battle... life... those last lines of the poem so beautiful. samar shesh hai, nahin paap ka bhagi keval vyadh / jo tatasth hai, samay likhega unka bhi aparadh... the fight’s not done, not just the hunter will bear the sins / those that remain silent, time will write of their wrongdoing too. samar... i know that name. do i know a samar though?



news is, barun is back soon in an altbalaji web series. i worry about that balaji thing, most productions are, well, awful. and the web series format seems to have something tinny about it, like hbo movies... something wrong with the structure itself. but i hear kay kay menon is in the show, which apparently is called, the great indian dysfunctional family; doesn't inspire confidence; a me too thing in it, like a mishmash of several hollywood film names that have left traces in the mind, coined by someone not too good with words.
anyway.
i am happy.
and i do like the name samar.

 an edit from holi. 




that first time



i was looking for the date when i first saw barun, in a tv soap, and the very first time i felt a funny kind of pull, a recognition almost. i had wondered then what was wrong with me, was i finally regressing? a soap boy who is introduced in the 31st episode, dropped out of several episodes, and me watching this weird thing with searching eyes, where is the boy. no real sign of the acting at that time and a fairly corny story. a soap called shraddha. i really thought i was more ridiculous than i thought i was and my "crush" days from school were here.
it was 9 november 2009, that's when i first saw him. in april 2010, my world rocked in a way i had never ever thought it would. for a year and more i floated around not quite registering reality... going through the motions... my first and only visit to the united states during that time... i lived on the surface without even knowing that's what i was doing... till one day i turned my head and saw a promo of this show.
i turned away and said, huh, rubbish. a few months later i was caught. it was as though this fellow was not going to be denied... i was dragged back into intense feeling and just simple joy, silly joy, sparkling attraction, things i'd forgotten.
through this show came so much back to me, and all of you, and writing... and just being a part of this huge humanity. yes, even that. i go from thread to thread, i chat with people from everywhere... i feel a strong blessing.
the wretched feeling, the rocked world remains and perhaps will always be there, but there are many feelings back in me. my daughter worries that first thing in the morning i run to the comp... i do... my tie back to life is here.
wrote this on 12 april 2012. for some reason am ready to post it now.
ps: just realised i never wrote the name of the show, teehee, do i really have to?





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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".







......................
episode rambles 
fanfiction




a man and a girl who was a woman






a part of a conversation with a friend on india forums.

you had to fall for him, rhea. there was no choice. i too tried hard not to notice. even before seeing the first episode i'd decided, he'd be just a gauche, trying hard to be tycoon actor, and not me, i was not watching all this, i am not into hindi serials anyway.

he'll never look this young again. but he'll look different, older, something else in his eyes. and i hope i will always get that little oh no i'm about to fall feeling when i see him.

breaking my heart that he'll be on tv and i won't be watching.




that womanly thing in khushi... how sanaya portrayed it. smashing. that's what asr did perhaps for khushi, let her reach into herself and find out everything that she was, could be... i loved the way the girl woman was played... so real. i so wish they had given this a chance instead of constantly caging her up. and really, one can theorise and write stories but till actors get it and portray it like that... how how how... serial after serial i am seeing so called better written female leads, supposed chemistry, much delved into concepts of love, but not one gives me a moment like that. when in fact... saansey ruk jaaygi happens. these two... really something else together. i will always hope to see them together again. even when they are as old as nani ji and nana ji.





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Wednesday, 21 February 2018

episode 32 silence speaks



sometimes silence speaks more, much more than words. even though the words seem potent, loaded with meaning, they still don't quite achieve what some silences do. there were a lot of those silences in episode 32. khushi's wondering, slightly disturbed look as she clutched her jiji close. what was that? hadn't she just said, "jiji, girti hui imarat samhal li, kuch bhi samhal loongi"? i have managed a falling edifice, i'll manage anything.
    
               
"does not everything depend on our interpretation of the silence around us?"
~~~ lawrence durrell ~~~

 
or the one up there, where he looks into a story we can't see but we can feel his anguish about it, as though he doesn't want to listen. something to do with his mama and papa, he almost flinches at the words when di says she wished they were there for she can't handle all the anger flaring around anymore. his face hardens in an instant and his fist closes in a tight knot. the pain hits hard.



yet when he whips around to give his sister a harsh answer, he sees her face, its sadness and worry, he melts. a whole love story was written in just those swiftly changing expressions. i wish i could capture all of them and include here. his hands came and grasped hers tenderly, and he said the words just in case we hadn't understood, but we knew that all along, didn't we? "aap sab kuch ho, di. main aapki aankhon mein aansoon nahi dekh sakta." you are everything, di. i can't see tears i your eyes.


he will fight the whole world to bring back her happiness. (little does he know he will have to fight the most precious thing he's ever had to do just that.) she will make his kind of food to make him feel better. she knows he's feeling bad about too many things. what happened to khushi, what's happening with nani, their parents, everything, all she wants to do is make it ok for him. some soup might help? 

siblings love in funny unspoken ways, even when they are rivals, even when they aren't always good to each other. ipk had a particularly keen understanding of this. which is why, when anjali started to lie to chhotey i'd thought we'd see something very interesting. it could have been that. a glimpse of it in the miscarriage scene, where she finally believes as she looks into the eyes of her brother standing outside. again, silence.

a beautifully crafted episode that seemed to me to be about name, identity, pehchaan, and an awareness that is refusing to go, in fact making quite a place for itself. from bua ji's "wah nand kissore," to mami ji's warning of "cantrobhersial" food, everything felt smooth and was intensely expressive, almost as much as barun's face.



payal was picking up the unspoken cues of worry and uncertainly from khushi and reflecting it back. she was happy with khushi's decision to resign, but still... if only they hadn't come to delhi. khushi counters without thinking, "nahin, jiji, dilli itni bhi buri nahin hai, matlab agar hum dilli nahin aate toh... toh..." no, jiji, delhi isn't that bad either, if we hadn't come here, then... toh ham arnav ji se kaise miltey? then how would we have met arnav ji? is that what her heart wanted to say? we'll never know.


he'd had a bad night, then all that talk about marriage with nani, and her little pull a bride out of a hat trick, he strode into office in a foul mood. how a man can change the whole energy of a place by simply walking through it, i will never understand. the grim walk in with inert eyes, reminiscent of the mazar entry, and the long steps carrying him out with a simple pause at the sight of dm, said more than most things he said today. especially about that awareness. it intruded even when he was rushing to see his di who had fainted. how much of a statement is that?

as if that were not enough:

 
"usska ek naam hai!" 


she has a name.

just the day before he had used her name for the first time. once in reference, but twice directly, calling out to her, hoping she was there, alive, unhurt. then that wondering, "khushi..." as she let go on him. and today, he wanted her to be given the respect of being called by her name. why? he didn't care after all. all he wanted was for her to lose and go away. mera naam hai arnav singh raizada. my name is arnav singh raizada. the boy who'd rejected his father's name and taken his mother's proudly, knew the importance of a name. that it was identity. you mess with it, you are messing with the person's being. today he can't tolerate this disrespect for her.



somehow he was sensitized to her now. she mattered. maybe he was still worried about her. when he hears the giggling trio, something snaps in him. he lashes out. and lavanya's unthinking chamkili just pushes him over the edge. he gives pam and sim this appraising look when he walks in. did he see the completely opposite kkg in his mind as he looked at them? did he feel a little tired of this thick shallowness?


she walked in all prepared to resign. and just inside the ar door, she stopped. her hands tightened on the strap of her bag. she's tense, she's gathering her will and courage. in her eyes, something more again. then she remembers. one of the most timeless moments in ipk. he is reaching out, holding her hand, pulling her up and rushing out, he's turning back to look at her. oh just hold it there. what's in his eyes. she's succumbing... he's looking at her, jaw clenched. the memories bring involuntary words to her lips,"devi maiyya raksha karna." devi maiyya, save me. of course, just then he stops in his tracks to look at dm sitting pretty on her desk. a long pause, he is obviously thinking of her. they miss each other, never making contact. yet a funny communication, a connection through devi maiyya just now.



"we know what we are, but not what we may be."
~~~ william shakespeare ~~~

 
pehchaan is one of the main motifs of ipk. to be who you are, to know who you are, to discover yourself. an individualistic slant in all its characters. as iconoclastic as its main protagonist, ipk sought to break stereotypes, and make us look into the heart of things. the makers were trying to communicate something they considered important. which is why maybe we were often presented with a character in a certain way, only to find later they were not at all as we'd imagined them to be. there was the issue of well rounded, lifelike characters, but also the element of "revelation" of each one. who would have thought, mami was capable of so much love and loyalty.



or la, just look at her. did we ever think she would become one of the most memorable characters of ipk, a character like her has perhaps never been seen in indian tv or films.


this what you see is not what you get, i felt was always more than just clever writing. it was very much driven by content and core thought. someone was urging us to look beyond the surface. and what's more, was treating us like intelligent people, who could figure things out. which is why maybe all those carefully crafted silences, and beautiful expressions and body language, and other signs and symbols.

reflections. for days we've seen them, on windows, mirrors, water. now a clear look at image, it's meaning, and the need to see oneself clearly.

"lucknow se hain, iss liye darke bhage nahin...
balki khu
d batane aaye hain ki yeh naukri humare layak nahin...humaari parvarish toh aisi hai..
humey sikhaya ga
ya hai ki sahi kaam karo...
aur poore atma sanman ke saath karo..."



i am from lucknow, i don't get scared and run away...
instead i have come to tell you, this job is not suitable for me...
my upbringing is such, i have been taught to do what is right...
and do it with complete self respect.

so just like him, she has been taught the value of being and doing "sahi." his life has been stricken by "galat," and that's one thing he just doesn't want to be: galat. wrong.
 
"rehne dijiya, aapko batane ki koi faida nahin...atma sanman toh unka hota hai, jinki khudki koi pehchaan ho...aur aapka toh poora din inki nakal karne mein nikal jaata hai..."


let it be, no point in telling you...
self respect only those have who have their own identity...
and your entire day goes trying to imitate her...

she retorts when sim cuts in, 

"hum khud ko kuch nahin samajh rahe,
kyonki hum jaante hain ki hum kaun hain...
aur hum jo bhi hain usse khush hain...par aap kabhi aine mein dekhkar khud se poochiye,
ki aap khud ko peh
chanti hain bhi ya nahin...agar khud ko pehchan pati, yeh locket chhupakar nahin rakhti...aapke dil me jo hai usse chehre par laake dekhiye..."


i am not thinking myself to be anything, because i know who i am...
and whatever i am, i am happy with that.
but look in the mirror sometime and ask yourself,
whether you know yourself or not...
if you could recognise yourself, you wouldn't have hidden this locket...
what you are at heart, let it show... and see...

a brilliant set of terse lines that reflect her intense anger and personality, her belief in herself. in many ways she is the mirror image of the man she calls rakshas. and today, she is so riled by all the injustice that's come her way, she's calling off the game, and reasserting herself. khushi's journey of self discovery is as potent as asr's. this episode was telling in so many ways.

now we await the "cantrobhersial" thing. and please, may i have two nurses too, i faintiya gayi every time a certain someone walks in or out.







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Sunday, 21 May 2017

a few random barun edits













flipping through my imgur pages.














do you believe in kismet?


there was a bit of kismet in it.


i don't follow serials, hindi or english or in any other language. television is not my thing. catch some friends or csi or ncis once in a way. don't mind a little monk, 30 rock, frasier, or jon stewart now and then. won't lie, did watch the bold and the beautiful and santa barbara over a glass of bad bosca wine every evening for many months when cable first came to india in the mid nineties. and of course, loved star trek, hawaii 5-0, and family ties as a kid. i have never been hooked though, not on the serials i mentioned, not even jon hamm in mad men can get me to check schedules and be there, hah, i am that tv proof.


but after many years away from india, surrounded by cool calm green and peace and quiet, i started to miss colour, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. so the tv would be switched on the moment i got back home and i would carry on with my life while red, orange, blue, mithai pink, chutney green, big bindis, long mangal sutras, hideous saris, parivars and paramparas, bahus and saases, vamps who had a yen for english, characters that died and returned, all carried on merrily. always, but always, in the background. i rarely paid them any attention.


once in a while i watched, then admonished myself for being so idiotic and stopped. till one day, i heard "nafrat paas aaney na de, mohabbat door jaane na de." i turned around, saw a well dressed man and a very thin girl. it was a promo, seemed interesting. then i thought, forget it, they're going to ruin it anyway.

therefore, i was not there on the sixth of june last year.


one afternoon, sometime in oct/nov 2011, no idea which episode, i happened to look at the television. and just couldn't look away. a gorgeous young man... but hold it, i've seen him before, in shraddha, in baat hamari, yeah looked kind of nice, there was something about him, but like this? never. oh what's happening to me? so drop dead gorgeous, who is he? and is that delhi. delhi!


i was born in new delhi, spent lots of childhood there, with a fabulous nani, nana, mamas and mamis. in fact, class 7 to 11 went to school there and stayed with my grandparents three of those years. then ran away for college to calcutta. why? because i feared none of those good looking delhi boys would ever look at me.


honest. that was the reason. no intellectual bong here, sorry.
and now one of those guys was looking straight at me from that stupid screen. full circle, i was 50 and a bit, yet could feel the familiar urge to bolt. but this time i decided to stay.
my extreme knowledge of mills and b gathered from age 12 to 17, told me i was looking at an arms akimbo man. but it was the tadka of dilli that had me still, unmoving. english with a delhi accent, i mean please may i die. "d'you understand?!!" ohhh.


(i also found that he and his wife married around the same age as my husband and i did; his intensity of feelings for her, well i have been there too and am still there; struggled to be financially ok, us too; seven years in the same not too inspiring job because it was important to earn, like that. insists his name be spelt right. walking away became more and more impossible.)


barun sobti was not the first choice for arnav singh raizada. yet there he is. could anyone else have ever been asr, or arnav, even chhotey? and yet, he wasn't the first choice. a bit of a compromise, i get the feeling. remember hearing lalit mohan say that mr sobti had the eyes for the role. what would lm know about the jaw line, the widow's peak, the flowing limbs, the long neck, the crazy lips, the pop out irresistible ears, the down on the back of the wrist that shimmers in the light, the collar bones. but thank everything, someone sensed the potential of this man's hitherto untried acting ability. someone saw arnav singh raizada in him.


sanaya irani had often heard that she would never be able to do a typical indian girl's role. she said, getting gunjan gave her a sense of real achievement. but just imagine the genius of the person who decided that our small town, lower middle class, hindi speaking desi girl with the tedha choti should be portrayed by this big city, upper middle class, english educated, sophisticated young woman of rather videshi complexion. the contrast works like a dream. it makes khushi yours, mine, ours; whether you're from small or big city, desh or videsh, young or old. sanaya was told by nissar parvez (i think) that everyone knows her as gunjan, but after this, people should only remember her as khushi. what a fantastic one line brief. and how utterly successful ms irani has been in meeting it. a girl who'd never get a role as a typical indian girl.


iss pyaar ko kya naam doon? was pitched for star one. but kismet would have none of that. and so it was that number crunching, trp and target audience oriented channel went with a gut feel (i'm sure they backed all decisions with many so called facts and computations, and tender parts of anatomy were duly covered) and decided ipkknd ought to go to star plus. (mwah mwah to whoever was the executive.)


i used to be (just corrected the "am" i'd instinctively written) the last person to want to talk endlessly about a serial, and that too on some social networking (gak what a word) site. deleted my facebook account some time ago. i heard about india forums on the noreen khan interview, as by now i had got the bug badly enough to look for the actors and the show everywhere. sbs, sbb, what were these things! a whole new world out there. anyway went and signed up at india f.


soon after that i realised that my favourite niece (tennismaniac19, i think she calls herself, writes lovely stories) was as lovestruck as i. and while we gushed together and i mentioned the forum, she said i should check out crooner.


led to you girls, i was. by a nineteen year old. that's cool, since i'm about 15.


and here we are, priya. in your wonderful thread. talking, chatting, giggling, singing, getting closer, becoming important in each other's day. i read many of all your posts. there were bits of me in there too.


many instances of  this play of fate i will never know. like how did they decide upon lakshmi ji, a pet goat! or the posse of prakashes that keeps rm going. or how did such a perfect team of actors who not only act well but gel with each other come together. or that unbelievably beautiful strain of "rabba vey", how could a little known music director come up with it. and what wonderful improvisations and extensions on the theme. old rabba vey, sad rabba vey, new rabba vey, why am i smiling.


here's thanking each one at iss pyaar ko kya naam doon? and all of you in the crooner. and a very very happy anniversary to all.



my sleeping patterns are ruined (episode airs at 12 mn), my friends are worried about my mind, but the man i've been married to for 26 years patiently asks me every day, so what happened last night? then gives me my fifteen minutes on my favourite topic.


more than anything, even more than my crush on a 27 year old boy, or maybe through that feeling precisely, iss pyaar ko has led me right back to a most important thing in life: love and the expression of it through romance.


i flirt with my husband for no reason again. despite my age and weight. and there's a certain lightness to love that i haven't felt in years.


this morning he said over the phone: mami ji is a bit like aunty s. i said: no, a mix of aunty s and aunty h.


iss pyaar ko kya naam doon? was indeed a gift from kismet.



wrote this for crooner's anniversary in 2012... many memories of that chatty, funny, intelligent, insightful, snarky thread. 











Saturday, 20 May 2017

missing asr, missing barun.



feeling nostalgic. remembering things. feelings, scenes, losing oneself. being happy with a simple serial. just found this bit i wrote on rima's thread "why are they doing this to barun" on 21/22 april 2012.

wanted to share it. no real reason, just like that, with everyone who loved barun, sanaya, rabba vey, all that's ipk. please feel free to leave your memories and nostalgia here, if you're up to it.

it's been harrowing days for most of us.

and barun, sanaya, cast.

here's to fine actors and the magic they weave.

my post of 21/22 april


i abs agree.


this guy doesn't need to strip. or show muscle. or even work at looking good to be breathtaking. he is rare. hope he knows this.

an extract from a letter i just wrote to my niece, also a big fan:
"today i particularly liked that sleeping on the same bed sequence. again hints of an actor with the potential to be great. sanaya very good too. both without a single word.
yes, he looked a dish, but i prefer him always when not much effort is made to make him look gorgeous, in fact when the hair does not flop, when the naughty boy look is just under the surface, when his eyes draw you in so you forget to notice how badly matched his clothes are, when he is so into being asr that he forgets to look good, that's when i say uff and clutch pillows to my heart."






from india-forums, written november 2012, in just three weeks iss pyaar ko would end. we were still hoping it wouldn't, that all would be well.












Monday, 6 March 2017

anyone missing jeth ji?








i am laughing lunatically by now. wonder how payaliya kept her calm around jeth ji. tough girl. superhuman, in fact.


 




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the teri meri prem kahani episodes



did khushi ji always long to pinch jeth ji's cheeks? just like bua ji liked to pinch nand kissore's? to find out we must keep watching intently, every now and then, and again and again.






 



Friday, 27 January 2017

episode 191 this night onward

sometimes the rajkumar doesn't come on a horse, he comes on a rage and he yanks you to himself and and he hurts you beyond belief for he loves you beyond faith.


the ethereal lightness of love didn't even last a day before the darkest night came. two people both utterly helpless... he had no way out he believed, she didn't even know if there would ever be a way. from here starts a journey that will show us what human beings can be made of; if they didn't come here, maybe we'd have never known them for all that they are. i will never forget khushi in the next episode crying sitting on the floor, then getting up and slowly making her way to her room... her new home. getting up to face the life that had been forced upon her and no one to hear her heart shatter, see her world go awry. incredible strength. that slow getting up and walking... doing life, no matter what. this was a very special woman. and he? what a terrible error of judgment. yet i couldn't blame him. just hope he'd find his way back to her and himself one day. he loved too much, that perhaps was his folly.

just as asr never gave khushi a chance to think, ask, react, the creators of ipk too gave us none. they stopped us in our track, we were smiling and in fuzzy romantic mood, bemused by the man and woman falling in love, totally unprepared for what came next. suddenly we were being dragged shocked into a wild violent wedding while the night wailed and bells tolled and the wind screamed. and our hearts quaked, pounded, slammed against its beat.

i absolutely love the execution of this terrifying wedding they had devised. no preamble, no ponder, no shots of asr planning his move and talking about things in his head as serials are prone to show. straight into it... peechhe se shuru karte hain, they seemed to say, let's start from the back. so we saw the wedded couple first. then the proposal... well the coercion and blackmail. and now in two flashbacks the two essential acts that conjures marriage in the mind instantly... the putting of mangalsutra around the bride's neck by her bride groom... and then the sindoor that only a husband is allowed to put on the parting of his wife's hair.



but what perhaps always signals terror and excitement and the feeling of so it begins in me, is the holding of the hand of a woman staring silently at a man yet asking so many questions with her eyes, he pulls her out of a car, and without bothering to give single explanation, drags her behind him... up the wide shallow steps of a temple... it's night, nothing is too clearly visible and the music has an ominous ring. an inevitability spells the scene and leaves me shaken. whoever designed these scenes was working at a level of extreme concentration, story paramount, artistic flair at peak. in a low budget serial, which will be watched on not too big screens with resolutions of various levels, to create this power and pull... astounding.




up up up they go. the cuts are sharp, top shot, he pulls her, her lehenga and dupatta fly. cut to a shot from the side... up they climb.




cut to a shot from the back and fire rages before us at the top of the stairs. now we are behind the fire and the man and woman walk up. he keeps walking.




at rm, he looked at his weeping sister and tried to say something... you always wanted me to get married...

toh kar li.
baat khatam.


so i did it. end of story.

while everyone... perturbed, upset, even angry... asked again and again why they had done what they had, a silent man and a woman with no words stood there. what a situation. everything blowing to bits.

he really hadn't factored all this in had he. so much of a knee jerk reaction that was, that pulling khushi to him. he thought he was doing it all for his sister's safety, that's how he saw it. did he ever ask himself why he had to marry khushi for that? or this contract so called marriage for that matter. and why he actually bothered to get a mangalsutra and sindoor organised? he had no idea really what he was doing... and he also was so terribly wrenched by the sight of his beloved in shyam's arms, he was not quite himself all through. had he been, he'd have known that appearing like that before all suddenly marred would create chaos and akash's wedding night would get badly affected., had he been thinking cogently, he'd never let that happen.

the way he looked at shyam, wasn't this more a man's staking of his claim, taking what he considers to be his and letting the other guy know, hands off. she's mine.

bit a of a man's game there... she the unfortunate victim. and yet she the adored. the indispensable. he couldn't just threaten her and banish her as he had the day of the guest house. he had to adhere her to him and plunge into the abyss with her.

that struggle to somehow placate di not being able to look at her... too much too many things are there in these moments, his love for two women terrifyingly intertwined. "tumhe vajah bata ne hi hogi, chhotey," you have to tell me why, says anjali.

a face turned away, clenching of jaw.

"kaha na di, aapne kaha tha kar lo.. so kar li..." told you, you said marry, so i did. he was not in control of emotions, breaking down yet he's the karta, the man in charge... as he decided way back.

and yet today, he ran way. literally ran into his room to avoid his sister. and cried. i am sorry, di, par koi aur rasta nahin tha. i am sorry but there was no other way.


yes, if you loved khushi and thought she was a whore and yet felt you couldn't be without her, perhaps there was no other way. it will never be possible to fully comprehend or justify his action. which is why such depth and power in all of this maybe. and months later, she will perhaps give him the same bludgeoning pain when she'll call this whole thing not a marriage but a sauda, a transaction... something that can be ended. 

he spoke to no one... neither khushi... nor di. a 27 year old man who had decided to do everything to set a crashed world right, took a decision all by himself, without realising the lie that brought it about nor the flaw in his choice.

he escaped, but khushi would not be spared... nani ji held her and demanded an answer. everyone badgered the girl. she who had no idea that the man she loved had been standing at the terrace door, had seen her with shyam. one day she had stood there and seen shyam for what he was, tonight asr had seen her for what she wasn't. life.




it was awful to see khushi cry like that, losing all she knows to be right and real shaken, helpless. the questions kept coming. you know the significance of this mangalsutra, don't you?

and the first flashback.


a silent night, an suv glides into frame. screech of tyres as it brakes.
 

inside sit two people. one incandescent, the other darkly ablaze.

creatives used to speak of how sanaya and barun seemed to be pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly. that quality, that vibe, set the night alight. great story telling techniques were employed, but that yin and yang thing in them, the almost flowing into each other, tonight they were such a gorgeous contrast, finely balanced. it just made the wedding scenes explosive.



no one plans to have a wedding like this. yet there was a terrifying grandeur in it, like that of a volcano erupting or a mighty waterfall, or high rushing waves, something elemental, that seemed to sweep all resistance aside and my heart said, yes, they are man and wife.

he kept walking with her till they reached the deity. then a waiting. maybe something could be changed.. her look screamed don't do this.. his face was set and his eyes burned with an emotion, a determination in him, there will be no change... her gaze kept asking him to stop the nightmare.

then he turned and walked toward the deity... om swasti na... mantras began their chant. we cut to a long shot and saw him walk back to her. she waited tense but ramrod straight, not wilting... vis a vis.

with the goddess behind them, fire before them... agni and narayan as sakhsi, as witness, a mangalsutra was lifted, held and put around a neck, a job done... ommm.

a melody escaped a flute and picked the pathos and tears and perhaps ecstasy and annihilation of the moment.

the flames leaped and grew thick... a shattered man looked at a woman he wanted to hurt badly. visual rhetoric of fire continued, it wrapped around their shots in slow dissolves. it would ravage all and purify at the same time. the chanting faded, a conch shell blew, music crescendoed... they stood before each other... changing, no longer who they were before this moment. changed forever.

the second flashback:




they stood there staring at each other... both helpless though one seemed not to be. the mantras chanted. camera circled them, as though that had to be done, like pheras, auspicious.. he held up his hand, a pinch of red... blood, i thought.

yeh sab cheezein tumhare liye bahut maine rakhti hai.. yeh mangal sutra, yeh sindoor... toh yeh raha mangal sutra (loved barun's pronunciation, that sutr-).

in one harsh movement he pushed aside her teeka, bared her parting and streaked it with his vermilion. ownership.

aur yeh raha sindoor.



these things mean something to you, so here's the mangalsutra and here's the sindoor. he doesn't believe in them, yet he includes them in the night... why? why not simply coerce her into living with him and just put on the signs of marriage herself.

there was something cat like in his glance. an alertness, a pounce.

her eyes lifted slowly, she knew what these two things had done to her life... and that their mark was indelible.

ab tum meri patni ho. now you are my wife.

he said again as if to convince himself as much as her that this is only for six months, that she was his wife in the eyes of the world, that he would never give her the place of a wife.




the music lifted, she turned once to look at dm. then she wept while he gazed at her not raving any more, an unguarded moment. angry, betrayed, said his eyes.

the wedding was done. we'll never see the complete wedding, and i'll always wonder about the moments unseen. in offscreen segments we saw how small the actual sets were, how ramshackle everything around it. yet their was a magnificence in every frame. those swaying bells, the curtains, the sounds, the colours, a ravaging everywhere.

by the end of the episode, khushi is all by herself, pushed aside by her family, and that old pain, the unbearable one of not belonging, not being "sagi", their own had returned.





though we think it only happens in serials, things just as challenging happen in life too. yet we overcome. yet we love. we have such a need to. makes us human, makes us us. why should khushi and asr love each other after this night? yet they do. somewhere shyam deserves a tight hug for being the cretin he is, he showed them how much they really loved each other in a way. when the going gets bizarre the heart really speaks.

even as a kid, i never forgave ram for doubting sita. to me the most powerful phrase of the story of ram sita is, "dharani dwidha hao," i am getting goose bumps. she called to her mother, the earth, and said, part, take me back in your arms, and she went away forever. here asr and khushi both could find a way to look into each other's beings and "see" the truth... it needed no proof. i can't stop reveling in that. and the fact that the night before the so called remarriage she said yes to him. to me, this is their marriage. good bad indifferent this is it... because love was always there.



.........


 i watched the expressions, the constant talk between two people. so much was said and heard, yet not... only two people who mean everything to each other could look at each other with such eloquence. and really how gorgeous were the bride and the groom. a sublime note, a sensual strain, a sustained sense of sacredness here right through. and that suffocation.