he mahaepisode has taken me to inner places. how this whole thing started with a light, jaunty, a little westernised, romcom air and look where it's gone. without losing the initial freshness it's added more and more depth. we're actually going through a pretty real relationship with arnav and khushi. and in a setting we can identify with. curiously indian despite the english in dialogues, the man in waistcoat, the dhingchak accent. actually, as far as i'm concerned english is also an indian language.
can a multi-millionaire tycoon who is the lion in his den become a sweet, courteous damaad ji upon hitting super middle class sasooral with broken mirrors, leaky pipes, and squishy soaps? we know he can. we have seen such people. only diff, they don't look like asr or give us heart attacks with little almost uncalculated expressions in eyes, lips, stuff (have you seen how much his hands say).
and i was looking at khushi, returning to her sense of her own self after the harrowing days of kidnap, shyam drama, and now sister-in-law trouble. where do we go to feel like ourselves, earlier the mandatory once a year visit? the maika, of course. as bua ji resorted to her familiar loud love, the yelling, the sanka devi, the nazar utarna which actually many people still do, i could see khushi becoming khushi again. oh how much arnav enjoyed watching that.
some great insights and brill writing there.
a man in the throes of an unfamiliar tenderness. a girl who is in no mood to be good.
love o so lightly, tenderly, haltingly.
it was wafting in the air. it touched everyone it passed. it was in bua ji's natkhat mood, in shashi babu's pleased eyes, in garima's smile, in nani ji's little toss of head to the rest to leave the lovebirds alone, in nk's delight. not a love locked away in a darkened room of uncontained passion, but a love that is so vast you can't hold it in, it just roams freely about, shows up wherever you are.
only after this, does the other love, the one in seclusion with untethered amore, seem right. seems part of a story, a nice long novel in fact.
i see so many things in each of barun's gazes, turns of head, curl of lips, walk, pause, every gesture. maybe i just read too much in them, even things he doesn't intend. that's the beauty of real communication to me, when the receiver starts adding her own layers. gives something back and the whole thing becomes much more than what it was when it started out.
of course, this is not objective, but can one be objective about love or while watching two people deeply in it?
sanaya's smile when she realises he's got her a gift was the cutest, then her little about face upon realising mister ji had delegated was cuter still. only sanaya could look as adorable as she did in that perfectly ghastly dress. there was a sense of my kkg of yore in its flakiness, don't you think?
(while i am a bit nutty about bags, her point re utility of bag vs cost has to be given thought. my hubs will send phool chandan and jhola bag to ms irani should i come around to her point of view. and that's the only fault i could find with asr yesterday, you never tell someone esp your beloved wife how much the gift cost. dear writers, did not like that, not from a polished self made man.)
loved the bark at the end. poor boy, suffered being sweet the whole day. just one thing, at some point he needs to thank nk properly for doing what he did for khushi. hope writers remember that. still missing mama ji and though one must never think of such things, the sudden disappearance of masala mama perplexes.
sigh, monday please come.
(written straight after first watch on the crooner thread in india forums... i had liked the episode much more than i did when i saw it later, when i knew where all this would finally lead us. but the first thoughts remain valid in a way and there are times when during a viewing i feel all these thoughts.)
"do laakh?... aap ko bhi loot liya!"
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