main tumhare b-... vm tenderly

i can't live without y-

watch the vm "tenderly" here

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this is not FUNNY episodes

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no copyright infringement is intended. this is a fan appreciation video and there's no commercial transaction involved. thanks to all at ipkknd, the beatles, and the original owners of the material.

a precap and an ipk moment

this has never happened to me before. i sat there transfixed, through the quickly ticking minutes, almost not daring to breathe. as the ride ended on the silhouette stilled against the setting sun, i was about to let go and say wow, when the precap (what happened to good old trailer) came on.

he was talking urgently to the unconscious khushi, "khushi, talk to me dammit... this is not FUNNY!" as his voice wobbled dangerously as though he were on a precipice about to plunge, i felt something give way inside me. i put my head in my hands and felt a sob rising within. i had to actually sit still for a few minutes to recover.

i felt something had reached deep within me, a place we keep carefully hidden from the world, and touched raw emotion. can't tell you what that did to me. most of all it told me, i am still alive. zinda hoon mein.

will try to put my thoughts as clearly as possible, hope i make some sense.

three episodes flowed perfectly towards a moment and it stirred deep.

love and lust showed us their extreme opposite faces. shyam raved and ranted at his so called betrayal. khushi flung at him her despise and told him how far she was ready to fall for the man she loved. the devil smiled. so there isn't that much of a difference between us? "zameen aasman ka faraq!" roared back the patni, the lover. "lekin yeh aap nahin samajh sakte!" 

has an aap ever sounded more insulting, more demeaning? just what the hideous lust of his deserves.

 

 

he bursts out of the godown, mid fight. he hears her voice. he turns as though physically pulled, all actions pause. khushi! the most poignant rabba vey fades up saluting and celebrating what shyam will never understand nor feel in his entire life (and that is perhaps his biggest punishment). love.

the chase was breath taking. this was serious, ipk was struck by a rare passion. it would change the dimensions of its medium. in script, screenplay, dialogue, music, editing, direction, and of course, acting.

there were bloopers, shoes changed mid run, (even in the episode before "what if i lost you" the shoes had done a flip from fake hermes to trainers), goon count was a bit haywire (kitne aadmi the? hume to laga 5 phir 7 phir 6 phir 4,  perhaps there are clues hidden in the numbers hehe), sudden speeding up of shyam's car and leaving the rest far far behind. yeah, little gadbads here and there.

yet in the larger scheme of things, they were really nothing. i have to give major respect to the makers of my daily soap. again i remember: but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for. 

the makers here are going for heaven amid all the earthly struggles of their creative product. they are also hijacking my breath along the way. but please please throw my breath in that black jeep next to that man with the stylishly flying hair and the fabulously determined/worried killer expression.

hold your thoughts. she is lying there right across the path, hands and feet bound, gagged. just look at those eyes speaking. no, screaming! it was her silent scream that made him swerve i'm certain. sanaya irani takes her performance yet another rung higher. how much talent is there in that slight girl with flowing limbs!!

if we sat down to count the number of expressions on barun's face from the time he burst out of his prison to the end of the episode, i fear we'd be here a little longer than forever. during his noreen khan interview he's praised tom hanks with doing stuff that seems undoable, maybe that's his benchmark, don't know. but whoa! never seen anything like this before. the day the boy stepped out of that helicopter, jaw clenched, steel in eyes, you could sense this was going to be a different flight. how different, i am now only beginning to gauge.

fluid, dance like battle with jagged breaks into nasty, street fight. masterfully directed. he must save her, no matter what. can you imagine the same guy let her go so casually from his office to the lower floor that day somewhere last august i think? today i may have finally forgiven arnav singh raizada that extreme callousness of his.

echoing the moves, a haunting medley of music: love and death combine in the rabba vey based background score, he is back sings the sure segue to asr's signature thrills, dhisshum dhishum, "chor de usse, i said let her go," and he watches her at gunpoint, lallan leering next to her. the vultures move in, excruciating pain will be delivered as there's no fear of retaliation. kick, box, slap, he's flung from end to end, she watches helpless, a pleading and pain-filled female voice joins in the entreaty to rabba.

with a furious (gosh what expression) look at the harianvi hazard, khushi frees her arm and runs toward arnav ji, only to be jerked back and lose her balance, falling backward, further backward, toward the precipice.

arnav ji!
a terrified look.
a flutter of blue dupatta.
he turns.
quiet everywhere, a mournful melody haltingly makes its way through a cascade of beautiful scenes from their life.
she falls into his arms that very first time.
she is falling.
he snatches her out of harm's way and hugs her in the rain.
she accidentally bangs against him, earring caught in his jacket.
he winds the bandage round and round on her ring finger before the temple, it is the sacred hour.
dust in her eyes, gently so gently he rubs it away.
payal by the poolside.
her foot goes over the edge... arnav ji!
he puts the mangalsutra around her neck.
the homa fire blazes.
he is putting the sindoor on her parting.
fire.
rabba vey fades in, looking up above the mortal world with a single call of two words from the heart.
he has put the sindoor.
she falls.
the dupatta again.
khushi!
 

 

mesmerised, i watched. so much in that sequence. from hate to love, from romance to passion. from this world to the next. from arnav ji to khushi, and back. the ocean and his shore, both flowing and ebbing toward and away. i feel somewhere along the way he and she have started to become both ocean and shore. and the pearl rests within both. weird thoughts, but had to say it.

the dupatta and the untold stories in its folds, from that very first hour always there. how it knew what they would know slowly ever so slowly, how it lingered over his face in a dargah, got caught in his buttons, fluttered on to his face, got torn and left behind on his car, it was everywhere. even now. now it fell as she disappeared from his sight. rabba vey.

before she leapt that morning of the suicide, the last thought in her mind, him putting mangalsutra and sindoor on her. his wife, she was his wife. no matter how supposedly fake their marriage.

and now again, that is the exact last picture to flash in his mind. my wife, you are my patni, mine.

hamesha is an instant when you love.

ok i am getting carried away, i said as much. and no apologies, this episode deserved nothing less.

episode 286/287/288 as breath falls

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this post is edited from something i'd written on the crooner thread in india forums.

episode 93 where are you going 1

"i know... file saath la raha hoon, dammit," clenched teeth, irritated grey look, eyes cold with a glint of fire, the man is in a foul mood. which of course is always pleasing. he's going alone. not really, just that his companion is lying unconscious in the boot. right next to the pakoda. went to nainital in a bus on a school excursion at 13, for only rs. 70. never thought some day i would return to this trip, quite this way.

  
where does a journey begin? where does it end? did this one start with a man in a bad mood rushing into a car and turning on the ignition? or did it actually take off with a girl on a scooter, a boy in a helicopter, each seeking a destination, one fine day in lucknow? the city of bhoolbhulaiya, of getting lost to find your way.

or perhaps it began in another plane, beyond even the writer's imagination, far far away, where truth meets truth and knows love to be its only destination.

khushi didn't find what she went seeking that day, asr almost made it, then things went awry. yet both had found their destination, only they had no idea of it. with a trip and fall, and a snap of pearl string, started another journey that would go via surprising routes, dangerous detours, ups, downs, ins and outs, avoid potholes and head on collisions somehow to bring us here.

forty four odd minutes on the road, intercut with the plot and sub plots moving smartly along. shyam and babu ji taking crucial steps toward hospital, payal and akash being aided by la's cluelessness and nani ji's not easy to please nature, then there's bua ji's delusion so necessary for everything. lovely little touches, babu ji gives payal his phone, so when he needs it, it's not there. right through, everyone keeps asking where's khushi. la is the first to find out. clever. nainital is but a minor trip missed by her alas, she will also be the first to know whom asr wants with him on the journey of life. she'd planned much for the other one, but like an intelligent driver, she will figure out when the road is no longer hers and look for another route.

a strain of ajeeb stalked the episode. yes, i thought, life is indeed an ajeeb, strange, journey and if any of the writers was thinking this while devising an episode so focused on taking us forward toward the next destination of story, i'd be delighted.

khushi believes that devi maiyya takes you by the hand and leads you down your life path. yet, i can't quite see dm coming up with that jhatka plan to make some "love" time for la and asr. make pakoda, take out petrol from tank, en route to an urgent meeting trip up the man, grab him in a snuggle by nowhere and chomp pakoda... would do wonders for the relationship of the girl she's employed to help.

khushi was acting with free will. 

dm just spiked it all so that it was she who was left in the middle of nowhere with the man diverted permanently, not quite snuggling (that's for later), but ploughing through pakodas relentlessly.

really, the dabba never left her hand. the eating never stopped. only once, when she leapt out to push the car, did the white dabba get a respite from her firm grip.

she loves jalebi, he loves pakoda. both so deep fried, juicy, crunchy without, flowy within, just that one is sweet and one savoury. like some people we know. pakoda with its chilli hot anger, jalebi with its swirls of sanka. but looks like the lover of jalebi is equally sold on pakoda. i mean, should you regain consciousness and find yourself trapped in the boot of a moving car would you scream and shout on one hand yet keeping munching through loads of pakoda? of course, no stopping your constant chatter either, "laad gov ki gaadi bilkul unhi ki tarah hai... jab dekho paa paa, har waqt horn bajate rahta hai," laad gov's car is exactly like the man, making noise all the time, the horn is forever on.

no wonder the man was completely thrown when he opened the boot. firstly, she is there, secondly... have a pakoda?

    "what the..." was there an eff... there?

she looks startled then. "aa... aap na zyada what the what the mat kijiye... hum aap ko batate hain ki kya hua..." she still doesn't know la isn't there. was she all set to offer la the crunchy tempters the moment she came out of the trunk? strange.

so what are you doing here? c'mon, asr, stop glaring, she just wanted to leave some goodies for you and la in the trunk.

so you went and sat in the trunk? i am guffawing at asr's dead panning here.

no it was the dupatta. but of course, now there possibly is a mingling of your desires, khushi, and dm's little plan, a weapon of both... the dupatta.

"toh aap akele jaa rahen hain?" so you're going by yourself? she's realised la is not around.

"aisa lag toh nahin raha hai." doesn't look like that. droll.

"dekhiye aap iss tarah se humse baat mat kijiye." see don't talk to me like that. a sexy contrast between salt and sweet, worldly and cutesie.

"hum taxi leke chale jaayenge," i'll take a cab and go.

"haan, sab taxi wale toh tumhara intezaar kar rahe hain na," yes of course, all the cabbies are waiting just for you.

man is supremely irritated. he is running late. work matters to this guy. it is what gives him his strength, tethers him to this life, gives energy, drive, a reason for passion.

"koi taxi kyun nahin aa rahi, " why isn't a taxi coming... she's so very 18 years old, angry yet a dependence on him in her grouchy tone.

what, a strike? how will she go home.

"gadi mein baitho," sit in the car. why is it always so intimate this asking her to get into his car?

"kya... aap hume chorenge?" what, you're going to take me?

"aur nahin toh kya, beech sadak tumhe chhorke..." what else, will i leave you midway and...

in an instant the whole complexion of the moment transforms. and the memories crowd in... that night he had left her in the middle of nowhere and driven away...

journeys... what crazy turns they take.

"jaldi gaadi mein baitho, mere paas time nahin hai," quickly sit in the car, i don't have time. he takes the moment back again and brings us here on the road to nainital.

sorry i made a mistake, she says. check next time to see with whom what mistake you make, replies he.

"itna dekh sakte toh humse galat kyun hoti..." if i could see so much, why would i make mistakes... the road lies before us all, yet how much of it can we really see. sometimes what feels like an unnecessary detour or even loss of way may be really the path we were supposed to take.

he looks at her, a strange feeling in his eyes. all these unexpected answers.

he will not get lost, he yells, hurry up.

she will not make a mistake so she  marches obediently to the boot while he strides to the passenger door to open it for her. hand reaches up for pin, and the left right jhatka ditty on tip of tongue no doubt. he is flabbergasted beyond belief. what the really. his eyes say, you're really ajeeb as she comes to the door held open.

a dark brooding asr looks ahead and drives, avoiding any contact with the pestilence on the passenger seat. she munches pakoda. even offers him one. a glare does the trick. in a perfectly enacted and edited shot he tells "lalit" he'll be late, a problem's come up. problem is upset halfway through munch.

and so continues the drive to where who knows. along the way, the petrol will get over, but naturally. asr will wonder how that could be. khushi will cringe remembering how. khushi will assure asr that she is woman enough to push a car.

"hum bhi dhakka denge," i will push the car also. and she gets that look from him again.

"tum." you. a slightest movement of head, a darkening look in eyes, a little turn in her direction, a quiet downward slanted, ending on fullstop, question mark, and exclamation mark all together... tum. and why do i feel a funny indulgent air in him. of course anger and disbelief, and dismissive a note.

he will look drop dead gorgeous and push the car anyway. of course, because she was so concentrating on not moving the steering wheel instead getting him to push more to the left, more to the right, etc., she will not notice how ahem dhakdhak the man looked straining to move a whole huge car.

when asr is tired and sweaty, and the petrol pump is nowhere in sight (maybe dm moved it a bit away from its original location), khushi's sassiness will earn her a harrumph asr and the right to push the car. she will do so, with aplomb. the more you stay in the same place, the longer the distance you cover. if i'm to critically appreciate the look on asr's face as he stands watching her "push" the car, i'd say she'd done a huge bit of travel straight into the centre of the dimaag man's dil.

unbelievable, his stance said. it was its way of saying "adorable," maybe?

ah well, moving on. there will be a tyre puncture (seriously, dm is leaving nothing to chance, taking over now on, asr thought he was writing his own destiny, up to a point he was, this nainital trip was his plan after all, but having seen the opportunity, fate/dm/life call it what you will had stepped in deftly for some navigation control).

no amount of pakoda bribe will get them a lift in either direction, delhi or nainital.

somewhere along the way, aman would be introduced. hello, aman, bhelcomes bhelcomes. and in the comedic turn of this loony day, we'll laugh about whom asr called idiot, fool, and other such endearing things. then la would call, serving the biggest purpose of all. she will demand to speak to khushi and khushi wouldn't know how to hook on a blue tooth. so of course a beautiful brown hand will tuck back a strand of hair and put this little remote device on her ear. never before has the remote brought anyone so near.

dhakdhakdhakdhak. rabba vey tenderly traipsing in, in no hurry to get anywhere, almost telling the two to relax, sit back, enjoy the ride. sometimes the ride is the destination, indeed. khushi's eyes would reflect her sudden disquiet. but asr's will rest on her face just for a moment. still, just looking, inscrutable. 

finally, fed up with everything, asr will decide to walk through the woods and khushi will be brave and refuse; then canny and give in. up will come the most incredible stalking of the man. sweet and hot lost in a forest with woody trees, bare brown earth and quietly descending mist, the very thought feels erotic. is that why khushi talks even more than usual, and asr is practically running? have to give super applause to the dialogue writers of khushi today. what might have become too obvious or irritating, became charming prattle, at times loaded with exciting nuance. she is talking loud and without pause it seems to fool the animals, but hey, look, a mango tree, wonder if there are any mangoes? a luscious fruit and love of it in the midst of nowhere, a sensual note floats up and plays with the swirls of mist.

he's had it. you must stop talking or your salary shall be cut by half. can you do five minutes of keeping quiet? just five.

thank g she's shut up, looks like the threat of pay cut worked.

but... where are you khsuhi... khushi?

"i don't believe this. mujhe pata hai tum mere peechhe hi ho, khushi kumari gupta"... i know you're right behind me, kkg.

"jaldi saamne aao." come in front quickly. his voice is rough, tired, on edge.

"this is not funny." and in a trice, i'm on a cliff top months down the line. his voice wobbly, desperate, pleading as she lies lifeless in his arms. that journey too began here. his voice not yet that shaken, but signs of it there already.

khushi, last chance, if this is some rotten joke of yours, shall take your whole salary.

silence. quiet, endless woods, "the woods are lovely dark and deep," but where is she? she who is afraid of the dark, of speeding cars, who sits in the boot and chews pakoda, who pushes the car with all her might and doesn't budge it a millimetre, yet who seems to move everything within him without even touching him with a finger? where...those wild animals she was talking about...

khushi?

khushi?

khushi?

khushi...

  
"let your mind start a journey through a strange new world. leave all thoughts of the world you knew before. let your soul take you where you long to be... close your eyes let your spirit start to soar, and you'll live as you've never lived before." ~~~ erich fromm ~~~

playing in my head as he searched in the swirling mist, the thickening fog, a song from the movie, "dhundh," and the thought... where does  a journey begin, where does it end? does it ever end? when we lose our way, is it really losing or a way to find our true destination? where were they headed that day in lucknow? to sheesh mahal, to nainital, to each other? will the fog ever clear?

"sansar kee har shay kaa itna hee fasana hai
ek dhundh se aana hai ek dhundh me jana hai

yeh rah kaha se hai yeh rah kaha tak hai
yeh raj koyee rahee samajha hai naa jana hai

ek pal kee palak par hai theharee huyee yeh duniya
ek pal ke jhapakane tak har khel suhana hai

kya janey koyee kis pal kis mod par kya bite
iss rah me ai rahee har mod bahana hai"

a few stray diversions that caught my eye

~ akash khushi aloo talks. another kind of love journey, i suppose. not all of them need people to shout ENOUGH and crash you into their ...

~ mami ji, "arre hum kya dephective hai ki hamka pata hui ki oo kahan hai?" am i defective that i should know. nice hintwa. even better, la's little general knowledge service, "mami ji, it's detective." but manorama wins the day with, "bhatebher."

~ payal says, whenever she's late from there, there's always gadbad. everything will be ok na? sorry payal, lots of gadbad coming up.

~ "isska matlab mausa ji hamari soch se kai zyada tez nikle," says shyam, this means mausa ji's thinking is sharper than mine. unfortunately, this will spell doom for shashi ji, for shyam's worst side is stirred when he thinks he can't get the better of you. 

that song from the 1973 film dhundh.

credit: uploader

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nainital episodes

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from crooner 89: seize-fire... my thoughts on the elements (vm)

anjali, your setting of direction is perfect in your main post. fire, water, earth, air it is all about the elements here. while you have mainly explored the first two, would like to share thoughts on earth and air too.

...sieze-fire...

as the ceasing of one fire that never started is signalled by two little matchsticks, a conflagration is about to commence. and it will blaze to burn everything in its path. a wild fire triggered by a little too much love.
poignant, isn't it?

as we laugh at the stupefaction on the faces of mighty lallan and thrill to the pride in arnav's, the ocean's, eyes, his inimitable smile on "khushi kumari gupta singh raizada," we are feeling the heat of anjali's illusions about to combust before going up in smoke.

there is no running away from it. it is upon us now. the ocean must sieze the fire if it is to be doused and calmed. if agni is to finally give blessings and not annihilate all.
perhaps it is no accident that the ancients appeased fire before any other god; that agni is our sakshi when we wed; our tests are agni pariksha.

fire in all its connotations is here now, oh that red saree of anjali's.

"i laud agni, the chosen priest, god, minister of sacrifice,
the hotar, lavishest of wealth.
worthy is agni to be praised by living as by ancient seers.
he shall bring hitherward the gods.
through agni man obtaineth wealth, yea, plenty waxing day by day,
most rich in heroes, glorious.
agni, the perfect sacrifice which thou encompassest about
verily goeth to the gods.
may agni, sapient-minded priest, truthful, most gloriously great,
the god, come hither with the gods.
whatever blessing, agni, thou wilt grant unto thy worshipper,that, agiras, is indeed thy truth.to thee, dispeller of the night, o agni, day by day with prayer
bringing thee reverence, we come
ruler of sacrifices, guard of law eternal, radiant one,
increasing in thine own abode.
be to us easy of approach, even as a father to his son:
agni, be with us for our weal."

~~~ rig veda book 1 hymn 1 ~~~

...the ocean and its shore...

water water everywhere. pani da rang. pani hai, plan barbad ho gaya!

a witty, daring, literal take on the oft quoted "pani fer diya" phrase. it was a stunning moment when those matchsticks went phooosss. the ocean took not too long to decipher his shore was nearby and probably taking risks on his behalf. we took note of the water effect on the perfect bod of mr raizada, as we had a couple of times before along with mrs ocean of optimism and crazy guts. i refer to public bathing, gobar, akhada of the gh days.

swimming pool, rain, water being flung from mugs and buckets, water saving the ocean's life, water has always been a part of this love story; an element embedded in the protagonist's very name. he represents the largest body of water known to us: the ocean. 

will arnav be able to fight the agni that is consuming anjali even as he is saved? or will the ocean become a reminder of the other endless body of salt water in the universe: tears.
i hope not. let's play "water of love," and send them tears on their way.

...earth...

we met this element before all others in this episode. as the earth swayed, quaked, and slipped from under shyam's feet in the very first scene. it was delightful to watch his composure shatter, his swagger stumble. i so wish he had taken the scene to the level he was offered. interestingly, a scream and a single searing eye shot paralleling the same in the 15 february post terrace scene of arnav on the road. later in the episode, many visual similarities in the shyam-khushi face off with the arnav-khushi bridge scene. interesting device exploring contrasting relationships and personalities.
a creature of the earth, mud at its basest, is our shyam. and why not, he slithers on it after all.

the milk crashed upon the earth, the curse is upon me she cried, anjali of her myths.

in a more literal sense, earth featured twice: when her batua fell on it and when there was a sudden as yet inexplicable shot of her slippered foot on uneven terrain. the batua fall will probably have something to do with the papers inside. no idea about the foot, but knowing these creatives...

...air...

i lauded :) the air rushing out of snake's punctured love plot.

under this element i'd like to speak about the environment created by the invisible element: sound. i absolutely love this dimension of ipk. no other serial, nor too many films, handle/s this with such finesse, even funkiness, again without wastage or verbosity.

particularly in my ears that irritating percussion layer in the arnav and goons scenes. the background score is thoughtfully layered, with several elements; kept clean and simple or densely packed depending on the scene. today reflecting the tumult in the other elements, the track was dense, loaded with meaning and message. the shot of the matches being lit, thrown, fizzling out: so much drama with minimum movement, not a single word, just sound and expressions on two faces, ending on that asr smile beginning to appear. beautiful.

the background was rarely silent today, yet it kept its place: elegant, supportive, coming to the fore only when needed. i really enjoy raju singh's sense of his material, there's a certain, for the lack of a better word, sexiness to his scores. bravo to the creatives who take care of this aspect of the show. 

anjali's "yeh aapka bhram hai," had a chilling sense of foreboding. and its pitch was perfect.

add to these four elements, those of the previous crooner: belief, faith, test, triumph, and the element of timshel or choice that we as humans have and it's clear next week is going to take us to another planet. 

wrote this soon after seeing episode 287 the very first time on 2/3 july 2012 midnight. i used to write on a a most active and snazzy thread on india-forums, called crooner, those days.

watch the vm "tenderly" here



naturally, no copyright infringement is intended. this is a fan appreciation video and there's no commercial transaction involved. thanks to all at ipkknd, the beatles, and the original owners of the material.

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this is not FUNNY episodes

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episodes 286/287/288 as breath falls (vm)

love slipped out and was free finally. it landed a flying kick on dread, shoved terror away with a lethal punch in the gut, grabbed the collar of betrayal and said don't mess with me. then pointed the gun at fear's head and rasped through gritted teeth, "paani hai, plan barbaad ho gaya?!"

a long time ago they'd got him. on a night when he was too vulnerable, too young to fight back. they trapped him in a scream and locked him right in. a heart that ached, that tore and ripped, hardened instead, combating demons that wouldn't let him go. he couldn't walk away, they took him and walled him in.

they planned to set him on fire some day.

but then arrived water laughing and babbling like a brook, speeding on a scooter hell bent on reaching her destination like a river, a girl from gomti sadan. she raced to meet her destiny...

and down from the sky came a man called ocean and said he never misses his mark. little knowing, he was the nishana, a river was on its way to find her ocean.

as i watched the terrifically well shot fight sequences and chase and the magnificent clifftop scenes of these episodes, i could hardly think. every second was thrilling and then you were thrown straight into the grandeur of a man and a woman and a feeling melded with air water earth fire.

was this not a movie? a tacky hindi tv serial merely?

shyam realised he had been duped by khushi and gave the order to burn the place down, set asr on fire... the horror of that moment.

his wife shrilly wailed to her aunt that she was hallucinating even as she clung on to her vaham, her essential hallucination of a perfect husband... the ever practical aunt brought her beloved niece home and called out to the servant for water. the servant was named after god, of course.

"hari prakas, paani deo jaldi se!" and god seemed to bring water raining down on arnav singh raizada. rocky opened a window and hurled a fluid from a plastic jerrycan at asr. he was drenched... and i was shocked thinking that was diesel.

the first time i saw this scene i had no idea a switch had been made. but he smelled the liquid, being the ever pragmatic and focused man he is with a curious mind that never stops ticking. he knew this was no gasoline. yet he waited to see what the goons were up to, he had tackled a couple of them earlier, but now there were many more, he had to strategise.

what was interesting was that ticking mind.

he had actually allowed it to be bludgeoned on the night of the terrace, and stopped thinking... making a terrible mistake. surrounded by every demon of his, he had screamed again and they had reinforced the trap. water had not won that night, darkness had.

but this time he was not going to just give in to death as he had at 14, nor to fear as on that other night. this time, he was somehow better armed to take it on.

he had to meet her in sheesh mahal, didn't he. and she had to find her way to him in some strange and unpredictable way, didn't she. that evening too there had been a switch... she was not supposed to be on that ramp. yet she was. and she fell into his arms, crash landing and just refused to disappear after that... running after him at the dargah, insisting she'd work in his office, making deals with his girl friend to stay on and teach her... as he said that night before rakhi, she just refused to go away.

to break down that hard wall of terrible adversaries... lallan, rocky, stand back for you are nothing compared to dread, death, terror, ache, fear, pain, anger, betrayal... to vanquish them, he needed to be reached, touched, brought back to life. water is fluid, it flows into places solids can't, it seeps in through cracks and crevices and finds a way to get in, stay.

she did find her way into him. the day he smiled at her antics, was perhaps the first day he took a step toward fighting every demon off. and no matter how much he tried to not feel for her, believing she had betrayed his trust even, nothing worked, she kept flowing in... on laughter, smiles, her utter upbeat rhythm, her sanka, her sweetness. he could not resist. and as he said to her just a couple of days ago... she had found him, haan, mujhe dhoond liya tumne. was that not really about her making her way, against all odds, right into his being? his heart?

when lallan's matches fizzled out, he knew only one person could have made that switch... the little sizzler who would not be put down, never fizzle out... and with a smile of wonder and pride came, "khushi kumari gupta singh raizada!"

she popped up from behind packing cases, gleeful at having succeeded, and thanking devi maiyya, for a few moments so much the sparkling girl of the first episode. fresh and full of trust.

then arrived shyam and his disgusting frenzy. seemed he'd have loved her more if he'd known she were so twisted. an interesting conversation about how "gire hui" was she. and a bold assertion by her that for her husband's sake she would fall even further if necessary, because she loved him... so much. but perhaps what i enjoyed hearing most was her cutting tone when she told him she was nothing like him, shyam... nothing. 

the first time i saw these episodes, and this time too, shyam made practically no impression... his story was weak, his acting flat. and given the beauty unfolding elsewhere, i really did not care.

but before i dump him, i wonder what was that about "pandrah din." asr had got only fifteen days to live... now that was done. was this in some way a reference to the dark period in one's life? in crooner, priya had talked about the fifteen days standing for a "paksha"... there are two in each month, one dark/krishna when the moon wanes, the other bright/shukla when it waxes. is this a reference really to the dark phase in arnav singh raizada's life ending though it is flipped to sound the other way round and the dark one, shyam/krishna, speaks of it?

 

the ocean had decided he needed to meet his life force. arnav singh raizada was going to come out if his wife was out here. the fabulous fight between ugly hoods and a beautiful man that ensued was so gracefully filmed, him throwing off of barriers and flowing toward us, almost like a tide coming in... a sense of freedom in it.

a stunning communication when he burst out of the godown and standing on the verandah caught sight of her for the first time. almost instantly a smile flashed, no matter they were in the middle of absolute danger. and she smiled back ever so slightly right back at him... a connection, a giving of breath to each other... of life... a moment of immortality... and rabba vey of course was the name of this moment.

 

 

he didn't see shyam, in a fairly well directed placing of actors and camera angles, this got done. and onto the ballet like chase, a terribly handsome man with hair tossed by the wind and a search in his eyes in an open top rugged vehicle followed by a clutch of murderous men on bikes, while in front raced the small half man who so wanted to be the big guy with the girl, who now feared even less, now that her arnav ji was here and determined to reach her.

she had saved him, now it was his turn. i wondered why we had to come all the way to death for their story to complete. the words "jeetey ji," while one is alive... was used by both shyam and khushi. as long as she were alive, she would not let any harm come to arnav ji, she spat out at shyam as 287 began. shyam vowed what asr hadn't given him while he lived, he would give him by dying... khushi ji.

but then i felt, it had to come to death. and betrayal.

for it had all started with death and betrayal... of a loved one, and by a loved one. and it had to come back to the death and betrayal of a loved one and by a loved one for arnav singh raizada to be free. and perhaps that's why there had to be that misunderstanding, where he believed the one he loved had broken his trust... he would have to grapple with that... and today he would have to see her in the grip of death.

fire destroys fire... to catch a thief set a thief. and so his mother's death and his father's breaking of trust... khushi brought both spectres back to him. she the instrument that would let him live again. she that key... the mannat key, i suddenly thought. he had said "phenk do" but she wouldn't.  she was that key on which a mannat stayed... maybe a dying mother's wish or am i being melodramatic?

a truly beautiful tale springs ridiculously elevating surprises at you... in these episodes ipk did that again and again. a moving story had been brewing in someone's heart... i am grateful that despite all the horrors that the trp chase brought upon us, the real story of ipk did not plunge to its death, it only seemed like that. it breathed dammit breathed. and a love story lived on.

what he had lost to death and betrayal, today he would have the chance to win all that back... but would he be able to?

need i have worried?

how viciously the goons had tried to hold him down, but he brought forth all his physical might and prevailed. shyam gagged and bound her and left her to die under the tyres of his jeep... but he kept his head and swerved in time to save her. he watched over her as the hoods caught up, and again fought with all he was when they circled him like vultures. but then he saw what he never ever thought he'd have to see.

khushi plunging to her death.

he forgot everything, he ran to save her. they tried to stop him, but he was not going to let them. lallan should thank his lucky stars, asr was too focused on khushi to bother to pull the trigger. he couldn't care less whether lallan died or not... khushi... where was khushi?

actually she had been on his mind from the moment he saw that water and realised it must have been her.

her name was on his lips constantly as he drove... and as she fell off the edge of the cliff.

khushi... khushi... khushiii had started already... he knew very well she couldn't hear him calling her from the car, then why was he saying her name? if we happen to be theist, the very name of god is considered powerful... to have the name on every breath is a form of praying, on the inhale, on the exhale... the name.

i did not count how many times he called her by her name... i just felt his devotion, his love, his conquest over himself... and the freedom within him. at long last.

in 286, we had been cooped up in a godown... in 287, it was the road... and now we reached the earth and the sky. rabba vey sang the wind, water flowed and washed away pain in untrammelled tears.

but before all that, again.. a smile. when he spotted her lying prone on the slope under a tree. his sister had commented on it earlier... this crazy girl who'd stop at nothing to reach him, perhaps the most precious gift she released in him was his smile. his laughter.

it made him happy, it made him strong.

how moving was the acting by barun sobti as arnav singh raizada felt every terror, fear, pain, hurt, horror, tear, ripping of a single thought. khushi is no more.

he has always feared the loss of a near one. he cannot face it... he cannot take it. a part of him ends every time he thinks of his mother's death.

and now, khushi is gone?

when he was 14, he could not do a thing about what happened. but this time he was damn well not going to let anything happen. he ran about wildly, calling her, he spotted her, he gathered her in his arms and pulled her up and he sat on mother earth cradling his love in his arms, reviving her, calling her, telling her to come back... he spoke to her constantly, his fear perhaps propelling him, but also his determination not to let her go.

talk to me, say something, khushi khushi khushiii... and then he saw her hand fall limp to the ground, the hand that always held him when he lifted her... fear rushed through him. he remembered moments when she had spoken of dying... a chill clutched his heart, he checked to see if she breathed, he tried to resuscitate her, he told her to speak to him dammit, this was not funny. he commanded her to breathe. breathe.

he pleaded and said, she couldn't do this to him...

for endless minutes he did all he could to get her back, there alone on a clifftop, no one around, no help for miles around... and the sky and the earth watched quietly.

he raged, he shouted, he seemed to be standing before the eternal and demanding she be brought back to him. every time  fear came, he fought it off and grew more strident in his call to her. he had tried to reassure her at first, how very tenderly he'd said, look, everything is alright, you're okay, i'm fine, we're safe... open your eyes, khushi, say something. he'd thought she would respond... did i see a little child in him for a moment then? almost asking his mother to open his eyes, look at him, come back? he has been to this terrifying place before.

then he grew more and more desperate... and fierce... refusing to give in.

he tried to massage warmth back into her palms, to find a sign of life.

nothing.

whatever he could do using his powers of reasoning and thinking he did. nothing worked. she was not breathing.

he was bereft, broken... and with a desperate love for her in his heart, he turned to only that feeling and lifted her still hand and put it where it belonged, on his heart... the place she had streamed into despite all the barriers and walls and met the ocean within. his deep, vast heart.

holding her close, letting his tears come, he let his head rest on hers... khushi, he murmured. this time perhaps sure, she would not answer...

hmmm?

 

 

the heart beat... their story was all about that after all. dhadkane. he was hers and she his... he seemed to give her her heart beat back by putting her hand on his...

in that heart beat perhaps today is a trust in life that was robbed a long while back. 

when he heard her, for a moment, disbelief... and then a smile. yes, again a smile. arnav singh raizada has found a thousand different smiles with and for this love of his... each one says love in its own way...

she coughed as she started to breathe again, you could see a spray of saliva come and hit arnav singh raizada... why did that look so wonderful? felt real...

and then with the most incredulous joy he turned to her and held her.

even the way he put his arm around her seemed to have changed and become more nurturing... like she was the most precious thing ever. and indeed she was. she was perhaps that pearl that made the scattering, the bikhar jaana of his entire life bearable.

he sat with her in his arms, smiling, crying, just being thankful... a grace in these moments. and sitting up there on the clifftop, we seemed to move up another level in this love story... going even deeper into the nature of love and reaching upward with an ambitious lunge.

she looked at him and she too had to say his name first... to have him near, to be in his arms, after the hell she has gone through these past few weeks and the damnation of having to be near another man... and yet, i don't think for even a second khushi doubted that her arnav ji would reach her and save her. her calm, tired smile seemed to say that. she tried to speak, he said shh shh, no need to say anything.

the first time too i'd found that intriguing. and it was beautiful that he believed her without her having to say a single thing later when she accused her culprit.

on the bridge the other day he had not been able to believe her even as she told him everything. but today, after all they had been through, and after he had finally battled and wrestled with demons and was at last free... he really did not need to hear anything any more.

he put her dupatta back on her shoulders in a telling gesture. her dupatta always said many things and it had been the last thing he'd seen as she fell. as he placed it where it belonged he seemed to say, he'd protect her honour always.

as he went to pick her up, her hand did go up as it always had, right from that day at the guest house and she clutched his vest... oh the happiness on arnav singh raizada's face at that.

there was a sense of completion up there beneath the clear sky. the young man who had held darkness in his eyes, now his irises held a bright new light and the girl who had looked up at him petrified in his arms one night, now stroked his cheek lying comfortably in his arms, becoming his, making him her own.he carried her and walked to the car, a temple in the background, white pristine. the shots had a sense of the sacred and a larger than life feel, something elemental, big. like the feelings within, like the feelings without.

on this clifftop, for the first time he said, though he did not complete the sentence perhaps because he couldn't, not when she was in this state... but he did realise clearly... main tumhare b-

i can't live without you.

if not for a great plot or even a rational basis for kidnap, for using it to reach this point, many thanks to the writers.

ipk would not be what it is without the acting of barun sobti and sanaya irani... these episodes again said that repeatedly to me. they made ipk breathe... even when everything tried to throw it over the cliff.

 

watch the vm "tenderly" here

no copyright infringement is intended. this is a fan appreciation video and there's no commercial transaction involved. thanks to all at ipkknd, the beatles, and the original owners of the material.

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