three
scenes and a song made up this episode for me. and it was all about
connections. connections that you feel, that you can't perhaps describe
but you just can't deny. and the right of these connections over you...
their validity, their need in your life. even when you say you don't
need them.
when it dawned on khushi who had paid the bill at the
hospital, something went crazy in her. she called out "rukiye!" as asr
walked down the corridor. a man come to do what he felt he ought to. a
man who didn't ponder why he felt he needed to do this, but who came
nonetheless, as if compelled by something in him.
she was angry.
why did he do this? she could take care of her own father. she could manage.
he kept looking at her quietly, intently, as if he could sense every
feeling of hers... as if he was with her in them.
asr
didn't raise his voice. the man who loses his shirt at the slightest
sign that someone is ignoring him or not giving him his due, stayed
completely calm, just watchful... as if trying to understand her state of
mind. he said he knew she could manage, he explained he did this
because he felt his accountant had not been right.
her most pertinent question: why are you doing this for me? i just work for you, i am not family, not related.
in
the context of what happened later in the episode i found it intricate
and lovely. khushi had spoken of the sort of connections that do merit
doing what he did. and between two people not related by blood, this tie
is usually brought about through marriage, making someone from outside
one's family, family.
it was not a heavy handed loaded statement
she made. but ever so lightly, in the guise of a hysterical outburst the
idea of rishtedar/rishta, relative/relationship... came in.
then
a lovely turn, when without him saying anything, she suddenly struck
her forehead with her hand and said, what am i doing, i have gone mad...
you are only trying to help.
a vulnerable, extremely scared and
anguished girl, who is tough and clean and a fighter and who is going
haywire at the state her father is in; she'd tried hard to cope with it all
but perhaps because he had come back and perhaps because in this hour of
need only one person seemed stable and solid to her, she allowed
herself to let go... feel her pain, her fear... her tiredness. she
couldn't tell anyone. but maybe something told her, she could tell him.
and he who had gone through enough in his life could sense her extreme
fragility and didn't want to harm her in any way, every instinct of his
made him want to come to her.
the next scene is of course of astonishing beauty.
she
sat alone on a cold hospital bench. a stark hospital air all around.
those who have been to hospitals and waited while a dear person suffered
know the terribly hard, almost metallic coldness of this despair,
enhanced by that hospital feeling all around. she had not waited for
him. she must have thought he'd left as she sat there with her face
buried in her hands. but he couldn't go. a beautiful top shot of him
standing before her, like an oasis or island the two of them in a sea of
pale indifferent off white.
then he sat gingerly, leaving the seat between them empty.
two orphans, two children, two people who know pain not many have known... two lovers.
he waited.
she tried to control herself...
then she gave in, she talked to him... she let him in.
"jab
se babu ji ke saath aisa hua hai, hume kuch samajh mein nahiun aa raha
hai..." from the time this has happened to babu ji i can't figure out
what to do...
she broke down... she couldn't face all this any
more she said. she wept, her body heaving, sobs erupting... if something
happened to her babu ji... no, not a second time... she would not be
able to...
he wasn't used to seeing the strong gutsy girl he
knew, so broken. she was a fighter. he looked at her quietly, he seemed
to be saying, don't worry, i am here with you. and then his hand which
lay on the knee moved... come to life, it lifted slowly... reached
out... he touched her head with the gentlest, surest touch.
he
wanted to console her, he wanted to say, i will take care of you. it's a
most protective gesture. usually an elder, a parent, puts their hand on
the head of a child, a sign of blessing, of protection.
it was
an unspeakably beautiful moment. the emotions in it were too deep and
too vast to measure or name. above all i felt a need in him to connect
to her. just connect.
and when she looked up and at him, looked as if she'd felt it.
there was no place for words any more. no need even.
at "rukiye!", hey hey hey heyhey, rabba vey had started, the call of their hearts was in those moments as they met.
as
his hand touched her head, a song rose. tu hi bata mere maula tu hi
bata mere rabba. the call of the innermost being to the most sacred in
us, to the divine... tell me, god... tell me...
the sufi song,
powerful and completely lost in a sense of the eternal, flowed all
around asr and khushi. they sat quiet, as if tied by what had
transpired. in khushi, a calm, a solace had been found. she was not
crying and bereft... stronger, more resolute. he sat still, the
slightest bit of tender awkwardness between them.
felt like their story had reached a new level.
and a permanent relationship had been established.
the
song swirled around them as they both at last got up and walked away,
going in opposite directions, both looking back to see the other as if
unable to help themselves. this is an old movie/tv device. but when
barun sobti and sanaya irani do it, it's absorbing, exciting, you can't
look away.
as once before in episode 18, the song included akash
and payal in its flow and the fervent call to the one above for
answers... these two people were also caught in a conundrum of
connection and its denial. back then these connections had just stared
to get established, no one had any idea where they led.
a great
distance has been covered. the man, who had asked a young innocent woman
to go and measure five practically naked men in an effort to get rid of
her, had just put his hand on her head in a gesture of a promise, of
trust, he was here to stay.
akash and payal too had come to a place neither had envisaged...
tu hi bata mere maula... where were all these connections headed.
and
finally the scene where khushi is told by bua ji and a smiling amma
that she must marry shyam. i watched sanaya do khushi's reaction to this
sudden suggestion. she was gobsmacked at first and then an unrest rose
in her eyes.
marry shyam? it was as though it was wrong for her
to even hear such a thing. she never said to both the ladies that this
is hardly the time to talk about such things. she looked concerned when
it was said that that's what babu ji wanted... it would help him
recover... i wondered the first time i saw if she'd relent at that. the
usual hindi serial achhi ladki attack.
she
didn't. she said simply to shyam, he was her friend, she couldn't
imagine marrying him. lovely clear eyed conscientious khushi... bold
too.
but that talk of building a permanent relationship with
another really unsettled her, it felt wrong possibly... for hadn't she
just tied a tie quite timeless with another?
a simple gesture... a
hand on the head. but what it meant, was it not sacred? was she not
already beginning to belong elsewhere... a rishtedari beyond a
conventional one.
many years ago, i saw the movie parineeta in
bangla. it's based on a simple tale of connections by saratchandra
chatterjee. during an auspicious hour deemed to be a good time for
marriage, a young man puts a garland on a very young girl, who was their
neighbour's daughter. in bengal, the mala badal or the exchange of
garlands is a significant custom of a wedding. she always hero worshiped
him and once he'd done that, she considered herself to be married. she
believed she was his wife. even though he had no clue. she never married
and never told anyone why, thankfully finally the young man returned
and was terribly moved by her commitment... there was a happy ending.
today
khushi reminded me of parineeta. when she looked totally uncomfortable
at the mere idea of marrying shyam. when she went up to him smartly and
clearly said no.
relationships are built in ways and moments that no one can really predict. the story tellers of ipk had a keen sense of that.
and barun sobti and sanaya irani made each of those moments true and undeniable.
