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sometimes it's impossible to concentrate, what fun.

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episode 75 tears and smiles

"iss baar galati humari hai..." as khushi said in a clear voice this time the fault was hers, i felt something move in me.

the frantic tension of the past few minutes disappeared, the need to thwart him vanished, as did the desire to win. khushi set aside all her angst and anger against asr. ever since the night of janmashtami an awareness and an ire had stalked both. they had reacted to each other from that place.

he had been harsh and nasty, throwing her out of his car, accusing her of being underhand, finally saying she was a mere servant, there was no need to apologise to someone in her position. he had meant to hurt her. he had succeeded.

she in the meantime had mounted a khushi like offensive using song, sugar, shoes filled with juice to stymie his relentless asr-ness, to get him to rue the day he had dared to dislodge her from his car and driven off.

they had constantly thought of each other. but really as objects, not as who they really were.

in fact, from the very first day their view of each other was filtered by prejudice. it may have been an instinctive defence for the impact of that first meeting was disproportionately massive.

on this day, khushi was winded by his dismissive and cruel words and possibly wound up and in a frazzled state with all the plotting and planning. he too i had the feeling was wearied by their confrontations, wary too. and maybe just a little disturbed by his own harshness.

it was in that state he had come across her at the poolside. he had stopped instantly, looking lost for a second, as if he was searching for the right thing to say.

she had sensed he was there without even turning around, that feeling around each other ever stronger. she'd turned her head just a little, yes, it was him. she'd resolutely looked away. she would not interact with him.
 
i felt he knew he had crossed a line. this is him.. the anger makes him lose all bounds, then sense returns and he must make amends.

"khushi, tumne..." he started. i wondered what he wanted to say. but she cut him short.

"bas! humey apni aukat ke baare mein aur baat nahin karni!" enough! i don't want to talk any more about my station in life, she said whirling around.

when she turned back and bent to get the tea cup, she felt the pull on her dupatta. she grew tense... we saw them standing by the pool, him behind her, a dupatta stretched. no one knew what would happen next. perhaps not even khushi.

it had to be the dupatta, i thought. from that very first episode this piece of gossamer garment has had a thing for him. it fell in episode one. in three, it reached out and touched, in fact, caressed him. since then, again and again it has flown and blown and done all sorts of things to touch him, like an unknown part of her reaching out, needing him, wanting him. now it would lead her to do something she'd never dreamt she'd ever do. so that we can arrive at the poolside once more.

and if we thought ascribing feelings and will to inanimate objects is ott fangurrling, i just heard that during sabbath when the blessing of the bread and wine are on at jewish homes, the bread is always kept covered because in mystical judaism there's the thought that the bread feels bad because the wine is chosen first and so is covered so as not to hurt it. hmmm.

yeah, that dupatta does its own thing and it finds the most mystical ways to mesmerise the two.

"humara dupatta chhoriye," let go of my dupatta, she commanded.

"what??" he scrunched his brow and looked puzzled.

she gritted her teeth and the next instant a quick swivel, a flash of hand and something was splashing on his face... violence again.

like that flinging of her arm in his room just a while ago.

"aap ki himmat kaise hui!!" how dare you! echoed, her voice full of distress and umbrage.

his face was in profile. pain, no agony, began to ride it... lines on the forehead and tightening of the lids. what had she done?

his fist was clenched tight. he stood stiff and straight. hot tea had been flung on him... have you ever been burned by tea? piping hot tea?

he opened his eyes and looked at her... his jaw hard. he said nothing, he showed nothing.

music recorded the raging moment and she would have turned away in a fit of self righteous anger but her eyes fell on the potted cactus that actually had caught her garment.

horror descended as she realised what a terrible mistake she'd made. her brow trembled and creased. music changed again, becoming light, whimsical. khushi reacted in her comical way, panic perhaps making her turn to this defence of hers. hands covered mouth, horror reached eyes. he stared, stony and still.

she yanked her dupatta, caused some more mayhem, dropped pots and tables, sidestepped him and did what a brave person must do. she ran.
 
but when she had reached safety, she did stop and peer to see what damage she had caused. and she saw him wince. he thought he was alone.

a riot of different emotions touched and sparked the scene. thanks to the two performers i went through all of them.

khushi had no idea how to address the situation, she was in turmoil, but she still had not leveled with herself perhaps.

when anjali fretted about chhotey's terrible burn, she was almost tearful with concern. she fetched the ointment and stepped into his room only to see the angry red weals on his chest and his stoic face. he didn't want his sister's help, he was fine, he'd manage.

with every second khushi's remorse grew.

he bears pain, physical, emotional, without complaining without fuss... he has got to be tough.

a poignant scene. when anjali asked how this had happened, khushi started to reply, "anjali ji, woh... main..."

he cut in brusquely, "kuch nahin hai, di... chhoti si chot hai! main handle kar loonga. baccha nahin hoon main."

it's nothing, di... a small burn! i'll handle it, i'm not a kid.

he kept the truth from coming out and saved her. why? that protectiveness toward her was already there though he still called her "uss ladki". beautiful, isn't it.

when khushi tried to apologise to him though, he walked up to his door and closed it without a single word. he shut her out.

there was so much and so many feelings in those moments. and a poised beauty. two young people, a boy and a girl and a world of theirs getting made with a set of fights and feisty words, with gussa and with sanka, with shut up get out and aap shut up... in a space no real estate guy can reach or sell. pristine primal space that only a man and a woman and their unguarded instincts can find their way to.

as that door shut, khushi felt the surge of absolute remorse. he became a real person... not just laad governor or rakshas or even aapke bhai.

he became the "unhe" he had become to her. arnav ji. that's all. and at last she empathised, she felt his pain. again a deeply gorgeous moment, characterised by the quietness and clarity of such moments, i thought.
 
she sat alone on the steps and mulled over things, most contrite.

babu ji always said she was foolish, but she didn't know she was such a big bewakoof. when her hand had touched that hot cooker in childhood, "humne rote rote poore navratri nikal di..." she'd cried through the whole of navratri (a festival spanning nine nights).

she is entering his feelings, his pain...  "uss garam chai se unhe kitna jala hoga..." how much that hot tea must have burned him.

sanaya's voice is clear and sad and full of feelings for "unhe".

"hume unse maafi maangni hogi," i must apologise to him she resolves.
 
and we come to the poolside again.

he is working with his plants, the undone buttons of his shirts reveal a red and badly burnt chest. i am trying not to let my concentration waiver. the dark grey shirt and the loose grey brown linen pants create a different silhouette. the mind wants to stay on such matters.

but a pair of hesitant mojris approach.

she walks up to him and stands waiting, he notices her footwear this time and looks up... he is distant, in his own world.

and he is unwelcoming. "tum yahan kya karne ai ho?" what have you come to do here. rough voice.

"hum... woh.." her face is getting all funny, her eyes are filling up.
 
he watches her. his gaze growing intent.

her tears have come...

"humara matlab hai ki hum aisa nahin karna chahte the... " i mean i didn't want to do this, she sniffs.

he is nonplussed.

"hum aapko jalana nahin chahte the.." i didn't want to burn you.

her hands come up and in that innocent khushi way comes the most strange line in the middle of an earnest apology, "aaj tak humne kissiko bhi nahin jalaya." i haven't burnt anyone till date. aah so he is exclusive... only he gets to sizzle for her. sorry bad joke.

later we'll learn her tears always dislodged him... he is looking worried now as though he needs to do something. possibly run.

i thought you'd held my dupatta but you hadn't, she wails.

a funny yet tender something comes on.

he looks around a little helpless as she cries away loudly. nothing subtle about madam and her remorse. gota shining pompom swinging feeling bad this is.

he steps forward, his gardening fork aloft.

she looks at it and her feet go back, she is pretty sure, perhaps, he wants to strike her.

he lowers the fork and watches her backward step. he is completely unsettled by her spate of tears and stammers out (yes, he stutters):
 
"toh... kya pakadna chahiye tha?!"

so, should i have held your dupatta!

how beautifully the heaviness exits the scene and a traipsing, twirling man woman things starts.

"dekho, pehle tum rona band karo!" see, first you stop crying.

yeah, important. he can't take it. even though he snarls at her all the time. at this point, she decides since she is already in this much, she may as well dive right in. 

and so she exclaims, "aap na? aap bahut ajeeb ho!" you know... you are really strange.

wonderful writing... as relief washes over her, she is a little loopy, her tongue a little loose.

he stares at her, what!

then a quick return, "main ajeeb hoon!" i am strange?!

"aur yeh tum keh rahi ho," and you are saying this. garden fork waves in front of her. stress on "tum". something changes. he is no longer looking at her like she is an "uss ladki". he is unwittingly engaged, and very amused.

you can feel the romance but you must giggle at the absurd exchange and his genuine "what the" at being called strange by the strangest one of them all. a tad affronted that this clearly "ajeeb" girl thinks he, he asr no less, is strange. perfect connecting to the moment by both actors. i laugh even when i think of this scene.
 
this is the beginning of ajeeb which will see such intoxicating denouement at a farmhouse one night far away. had i not known it, even then just by itself, just the way it is, this exchange would be etched in memory long and always cause a flutter inside.

she nods. he looks her up and down. it feels like a sexy turn in an intimate yet humorous jig.

madam is now in full confession mode. he is her confessor.
the mishri she had put in the tank.

"aur aapke jooto mein joooce," and in your shoes juuuice!
again the wail. the enormity of her crimes are crushing her no doubt. if she hadn't been so funny, i might have felt bad for her too.
 
he looks around and can't let the chance go.

"mango juice!" says he loudly and sternly. very head master like.

"woh... santre ka nahin mila na!" didn't get the orange juice, that's why, comes the pure unadulterated sanka touched comeback.

and that is the man's undoing.

eyes narrow, lips purse and begin to slant. that gradual sublime ascent. the lopsided smirk of one mr arnav singh raizada.

we had come to a heartstop moment. music knows it too."hansa toh phansa!" khushi might have exclaimed.

he smiles, eyes alight with a tenderness and mirth. who has made him laugh last? i feel her enter his heart space on that smile, as her tears flow.
 
in that second, that split second in fact i felt his heart burst open and let her in... no, drag her in and shut the door. no longer will she be shut out. never again.

he fell hard i thought. though of course the shatir tycoon hadn't a clue what had just happened. this was breakthrough point... the real treasure of the game that had started a while ago.

soon the snot has him horrified, then to make matters worse she blows her nose in her dupatta, the cause of all the trouble, then with an "hume jo kehna tha humne keh diya, ab hum jaa rahe hai" i've said what i had to say and now i'll leave... she leaves.

"unbelivable!" says a very handsome very smitten man. the sweetest endearment ever.

intercut with this enchantment was the story of another wealth... the goddess of it in fact. lakshmi ji.

trying to win nani's heart and get a little time by herself with her friends, la took lakshmi ji out for a walk. and lost her. mami ji said "nebher pheares bhen mami ij heres" and got fake lakshmi in... "lakshmi naahin ooke double role hai". i thought of asr's double in 74 and how you know instantly it ain't the real deal. nani would of course know the difference. to prevent things from getting really bad, khushi resolved to to search for asli lakshmi.

no one knew the real priceless stuff had been found at the poolside.

75 is a classic episode. so fabulous i haven't had the nerve to write about it for the longest time. i will never be able to express the sweetness, the purity, the fun, the bounce, the joie de vivre, the tenderness and the delicate sensuality of a romance here. the reaching out of two people toward each other in a way only they can. barun and sanaya are both so in tune and not a shred of overacting where that might have been a pitfall with many. the funny never cuts down the romance, the romance never smothers the funny, all the while you giggle and guffaw and you dhakdhak and wonder what next. you feel insanely happy. 

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episode 293 gotcha

at last he smiled. a simple, happy smile, for her, and just because he couldn't help himself. ever since when i can't even remember, he hasn't smiled simply, happily, just like that. i think, the night on the terrace took away that whole feeling of carefree joy that his heart had probably felt for the very first time in many years. the man who had at last realised why that irritating girl gets to him so much, why he gives a faraq dammit.

and the next morning, walking toward her, just looking at her engrossed in large scale wedding time cooking, giving instructions, hair casually knotted, he had smiled, his whole heart and hope in it... and his absolute adoration for this jhalli crazy babe.

how he had loved knowing she finds him disconcerting. because. yeah, that thing.

today, after months, a little by chance accidentally no one had planned it that thing again, here at the poolside. the vibe between a man and a woman.

she was all serious and wife like, he a little distracted, caught between the chaos at home and the call of work. he had to make sure di was okay, but she certainly was not... he was worried about khushi. how would she cope with all this... and his heart was broken. di had turned away from him. and though in his go get it done way, he had tried to get her to listen to him, it had not worked. she had not eaten, nor had he, but he would not show a thing, he would dress in his cool brown suit, button the waistcoat perfectly, gel back his a bit too long badly in need of a haircut  hair, and talk on the phone... he would reclaim his normal life.

i liked the attitude of this man. yes, he is beset by problems, but he will try and focus on the things that are still not out of control, that return a sense of normalcy.

she was perhaps feeling pretty bad at being told not to go near di. and i was wrong, nani ji had seen anjali pretending to be asleep when khushi had come to her room, which is why she had asked khushi to stay away from anjali for a while. but khushi too is an upbeat, optimistic girl, she tried to take the day head on too and her first job... arnav ji.

he had gone through so much and his talk with nani the night before, must have touched her deeply... not trusting her was the biggest mistake he had made he'd said.

he had not had breakfast or his medicines... she was here to make sure he had the medicines at least. how much we are taught to show love through such gestures, especially in a culture where love is rarely spoken about much... it is shown. and often in fairly prescribed ways... wives show love by caring for husband's food, medicines, etc. khushi wanted to tell asr she loved him madly possibly... i think he got that...which is why as he took the pills, lovely piano trill sounded...

and then came that moment when they both moved at the same time. once... twice. and came in each other's path, almost colliding.

the first time i saw this episode, i started smiling before he did...

such a terribly simple yet insightful moment. in the middle of pretty heavy and plodding writing, a leap into lightness and eternity.

a man and a woman and that thing between them. sublime chemistry.

i had told my daughter that time... she had seen the scene by chance, and asked if he were doing this on purpose and i'd replied, no... but now he will.

he did.

but before that, he began to smile.

i felt the joy of that. come back, asr... said my giddy asr phangurrl me. yes, vanquish it all with that lopsided smart devastating smile of yours. it was right here, you had smiled back in 75 and in a smashing cut through moment, when she had confessed to pouring mango juice in your shoes and not santre ka because that was not available, she'd got you... real bad. and with that smile had started an utter falling in love with a crazy chick.

though he had smiled when he saw her wonder at the fireflies, when he saw her while wrestling with lallan and gang and even when he spotted her on the cliffside lying in the bushes, this smile is differnt from them.

this smile is purely one of initmacy, of a strictly specifically asr khushi thing. laad governor giving jalebi bai a little something to get all flustered about... make her blush, make her smile. uff, it's foreplay, it's love making.

when things are really dark and difficult, when clouds are nimbus no sign of cumulus, sometimes a little sunlight manages to penetrate and light up the world... that smile of asr's felt a bit like that.

and to him, her smile would mean just that too. he needs to see her happy... both for her sake and i suspect his too.

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about that sanak

gaur se dekhiye as kamlesh khabri has exhorted us. look at this man carefully, that shouldn't be too hard to do. if you see him coming undone gradually, it's because he is doing precisely that, there's deep undoing going on inside of him... near that walled in dil of his, his fort faraq nahin padta. and it's all because of something called sanka.

difficult to translate. sanka is looniness, craziness, cookiness, loopiness, eccentricity, loveliness and innocence combined. there might be a few other things in it. but just as only the druid knows the secret of obelix's magic potion, so here. in fact here it's even more of a secret recipe. no one knows exactly what and in what proportion goes into it.

but sanka would be an essential note of the raga khushi, if khushi were music (aaj mausam hai suhana would be based on this raga of course); of jalebi khushi if she were a sweet; of bhangra khushi if she were a dance.

well khushi is a girl and sanka is her birthright. i go on about this because i have a theory and a huge round of applause for the writers (i have been cribbing a lot lately and not without reason, but here they have shown such talent).

theory is, this sanka is what finally hits at and collapses the wall of don't care, of indifference that the gorgeous mr raizada has created in him. not that he meant to be that way... but life handed him a blow he couldn't take. everything froze and hardened within.

to cut through that, something sharp was needed, sharp yet gentle. something that could crack open the shell then fill it with a salve, ameliorate, ease, lighten. bring on a sense of happiness. not because he was looking for it, because he really wasn't, but just because it was so compelling, it brought on the feeling, bas.

had khushi been everything else she was... pure hearted, strong, caring, even beautiful and feisty, he may have grown to like her over time, but for him to fall for her, something more was needed. enter sanka.

that sanka is what made him let go and capitulate. every time. and suddenly it would yank him much like that dupatta she grabbed and pulled and without even knowing he'd fly to her.

repeat telecasht: the sanka was essential to him falling madly in love, pagalo ke tarah, sigh.

i love the character design. her sanka was not just a touch of cutesie pieness, it was necessary for this particular love story. the writers get a big namaste and adrakwali chai from me for that.

i also really want to leap with joy when i think, his gussa, his essential note was again not just a thing added to make him seem powerful and big, he showed his love for her through the many shades of his gussa and she because she was who she was, understood that.

if he was not gussa, she'd miss it. if she were not sanki, he'd get deeply concerned. they got each other... totally. such a beautiful sign of that thing we can't find a name for.

of course, without sanaya's keen and beautifully thought out interpretation would we have ever felt this divine sanak and without barun sobti that extreme range of asr emotions.

i hope you are still looking at him. do you feel his heart lurch suddenly? the smile, sorry smirk, is out before he can think... and doesn't it say the man is gone?

never mind her, she'll just pour some mango juice in your shoes to take revenge.

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episode 369 dear saheli

"aur phir wo ghayab ho gayi?"
and then she vanished?

khushi said that and i found myself beginning to smile. such a real anxiety on sanaya's face. though i knew the entire sheetal story was crafted ridiculously, nothing about it even faintly believable, yet, khushi's that funny moment when she is full of questions, mixed up, wondering what it was exactly that was between this woman with a child who reminded her of her husband and that cool handsome husband of hers... something about it was convincing. 

khushi was in unfamiliar territory. she had never known she could feel this sort of uneasiness over a girl vis a vis arnav ji. in her many fantasies about weddings, sasural, ideal partner, etc., had she ever factored in a girl from his past... had she ever asked herself what she'd do should he have had a girl friend indeed. lavanya she knew, it happened before her eyes, she could handle it... even with that she was completely out of control the day she decided he wanted la and was planning to bump her off.

then too, the writing had been pretty bad, and sanaya standing on a ledge had touched me with her helpless utter love.

such a lost, worried, forlorn look on her face today. she has been feeling strange things. why is that boy so much like her husband? and that sheetal ji, who is she? she has even seen asr being nice to the kid. unthinkable. a million thoughts are going through her head, confusing her. sanaya communicated all this to me, with just the air with which she came and stood looking at him, wondering how to broach the topic.

her arnav ji...

she asked him haltingly about sheetal... and he said casually they were friends, sheetal like him was somewhat reclusive, in fact they were seeing each other for a while. and with that khushi like innocence she said, so you saw each other and she disappeared?

a lovely poolside interlude started, simple, man woman, a little silly, not at all cerebral, just about the gut and its uncut response.

he's her man. she has to know what the thing with sheetal was."aap unhen dekh nahin paaye?"
you couldn't see her?that literal translation has him smiling sort of tenderly. he shrugged it off as he would... she was just someone he dated for awhile, he explains.

she is not happy. he should have told her. i love khushi wanting her right, saying, you should have told me. yes... ask for something for yourself. he is precious to you, he ought to have told you.

he might have said, how to tell you, they just sprang this story on me, instead he is typically male... he hadn't even remembered. happens.

her retort was pretty angry. and funny.

"yeh kya baat hui... aap kissiko see kar rahe the, aur aapko yaad hi nahin..." what sort of behaviour is this. you were seeing someone and you can't even remember.

"khushi... that's because it meant nothing," says he still not getting how anxious and uncomfortable she is feeling. a whole new thing has suddenly erupted on the scene. he was "see kar rahe the" someone.

i completely got her trepidation and her anger, a confounding mix of feelings. there was a delicateness to sanaya's expressions right through that was gossamer like, ephemeral, i feared my edits would mar it, change its nature, make it thick, overdone. her whole body was tense, a helplessness in her eyes.

tell me, she demanded, before lavanya how many girls were there and who they were.

she wasn't acting cute, she was nervous and unsettled. what if arnav ji had many women? how could he? he was hers...

the penny finally dropped and the shatir one decided he couldn't lose this chance. that male thing to get after her and laugh his head off but also that kick he gets out of seeing her jealous, huqqy, not just sweet and compliant and self sacrificing.



"are you sure..." comes smoky voice in dilli amriki accent. and from shreya "to start with," comes the list... natalie neeta samantha cindy piya aradhna akanksha lata...

he's ruthless, he wants reaction. he gets it. she cuts in at lata, unable to bear it any more.

"aap ke zindagi mein itni saheliyan thi?" she asks almost close to tears.
there were so many saheliyans in your life?
i  look at that girl from lucknow. saheli, a friend who is a girl... a supremely girl word. preeto could be called khushi's saheli. but la is certainly not asr's saheli. asr doesn't have sahelis.

"sahe-" he's just that little bit taken aback by her khushi vocab as he often is..."girlfriends..." he clarifies, with an urbane little shake of head. he really means to get after her. this is too much fun...

"arnav ji, aap ke..." she would have bawled.






his lips tremble. the most drastically amused and wicked and yet tender smile. i stare transfixed.feels like a long journey all by itself.

in 75, he'd stood right here and broken into a lopsided smile the very first time, looking at this girl who was getting under his skin despite her dehati aukat free lucknow ladki vibes, a girl he wanted to not think about, and yet couldn't get out of his mind. that ajeeb girl. 

indescribable delicate feelings within him, within her then... no one very sure what was going on.. just that he had to smile. she was so ajeeb.

and today this smile, trying to burst out... a man who knows the girl he looks at has gotten completely under his skin and wouldn't have it any other way, a girl who means the world to him, whose ajeeb is so very precious. a girl whose being possessive he likes... excites him. makes him want to play.

just for a few seconds, in an episode that felt forced and tiresome, pure asr khushi at the poolside.

she saw him struggling not to laugh. she got it and went at him. again,  real, not cutsie.

but then the bad dialogue day took hold of writers again, he said things you don't really need to say at the point, a nice big hug is enough.

***

my mano was made to work very hard today. it was her duty to drop so many boulderish hints. all that "chhotey paycketwa, bade paycketwa" talk, then spelling it out clearly, if arnav bitwa had a son, he'd be just like aarav..."shame to shame duplicate copy." her task was strenuous, she needed a necklace that could tackle the enormity of the moment, hello hi bye bye.

***

fangurl edit.

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