Nazar v/s Nazariyaan : Ram and Priya [* Pages: 1,8,9,11]

Nazar v/s Nazariyaan: Ram Kapoor

It was the night under the rain. A man drenched with the idea of love; love, his belief, happens only once in a lifetime. He promises [himself] to love her forever where there is no place for anyone. He was wearing black and she, magenta.

What is an idea? We define an idea as a thought or a formulated thought, an imaginary figment of the mind or belief. What if an idea is just an illusion? If an illusion, then will that idea ever be tangible or concrete?

She asks him a favor, and he promises to fulfill by next year's rain. He has never learned to say 'no' to her. She comes forward to thank him but is startled by the lightning.

"Love comes like lightning, and disappears the same way. If you are lucky, it strikes you right. If not, you'll spend your life yearning for a man you can't have." ~ The Palace of Illusions.

He stood firm on his ground. She stepped back. It started to rain. She protected herself from it, but he, drenched with the idea of love and the illusion, reminded her he still loves rain and took a step back. But, he said – "whether I am in your life or not, my life is all yours; no one will ever have a place in it."

Black, a color that absorbs all colors. A color that is unambiguous, definite, and exudes authority and power. Magenta is a color that DOESN'T exist. Magenta is a lure; it is an illusion. Hevel (vapor in Hebrew). The color magenta is just an illusion created by our eyes. It is not found on the visible spectrum of light, and there is no wavelength of this color. How can then unambiguity and illusion ever be together?

How can we conceptualize an idea whose foundation is an illusion? It is a mist that disappears before our eyes could even shape, name, live, dream, or even build. On the contrary, what if our idea is an imagination? Then we can conceptualize it. He dreams of merging their families with his sweetheart sister's wedding to her brother-in-law. There will be a wedding but not them as bride and groom. Their hearts will never be together; still, deep down, he is happy to be with her in the same room - to ask for nothing but a slight presence. But, "doesn't the imagination always exaggerate – or diminish – truth?" ~ writes Chitra Divakaruni. Yes, it does. His dream of togetherness shattered. It had to. After all, it was built on illusion.

"Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor [hevel] that appears for a little while and then vanishes away." ~ James 4:14

The illusion had to break because the dream was impractical. "Apni naiyyan toh nikal chuki hai boss. Iss toofan mein yeh kashti akeli ghumegi." It had to shatter someday. No one, even his imaginary beloved, waited for him to arrive at the engagement. When our illusions break, then only we realize the difference between pretense and love. We realize that couples fight, argue, taunt, hurt, exude all emotions in true love. Without this, we cannot experience love.

What is love? What is unrequited love? "This thirst!" Eleanor Catton asks, "but is it love, when it is unrequited? If home can't be where you come from," she asks, "then home is what you make of where you go." Yes, one year later, on that rainy day, when his car broke down, Adi advised him to take an auto which will take him home. "Jaa Ram, yeh raashta tujhe tere ghar tak pahunchayega." He couldn't catch the auto because the right time was yet to arrive.

He is sitting in a dark room. The room has no windows. No crack in any walls will allow any light to come in through. Then one day, he saw a yellow smear on the wall. Wondering, is there a crack? What is it that sits on the wall? He turned towards the opposite wall. He sees a spectrum of different colors that a human eye can see. He gets up and walks towards the opposite wall, and rubs the iridescent surface. They are all visible colors. He touches the yellow, red, blue, green, and PURPLE. Yes, they are real. [She IS real.] He turned around to look at the inception of the ray and trudged towards it. Once he reaches, he fudges with it. Surprisingly, it became a bit bigger. Is that a crack, he wonders? The circumference of the light became bigger. Sunlight burst through it. His eyes were used to the darkness, and the light blinded him. Time passed, and he started to get used to the light around. "Time," as Chitra Divakaruni writes, "is like a flower. It visualized a lotus opening, the way the outer petals fall away to reveal the inner ones. An inner petal would never know older outer ones, even though it was shaped by them, and only the viewer who plucked the flower would see how each petal was connected to the others." He began to experience life: anger, happiness, irritation, expectation, hatred, calmness, and above all else, true love. True love weaved with anger, taunt, fight, argument, laughter, care, anticipation.

He found someone who waits for him to return home; who cooks for him all the cuisines he craved watching Yash Chopra movies; who lights up his house; who would make rangoli on Diwali; who fasts for him in festivals; who taunts him on his whims he'd least expect; who fights for his justice; who punishes her brother for calling him, stepbrother.

"He[Ram] took her face between his hands, turning it up, and looking down at her for a moment before he kissed her. "I do love you, Jenny [Priya]," he said gently. "Very much indeed-- you are part of my life. Julia[Vedika] was never that - only a boy's impractical dream." ~ A Civil Contract by Georgette Heyer

Reference: https://scholarblogs.emory.edu/artsbrain/2020/12/02/magenta-doesnt-exist/

Nazar v/s Nazariyaan: Priya Sood Kapoor

Home. "Samundar ko pata hai ke woh aap ke ghar ke saamne hai?" Where is her home? She read somewhere by John Masefield, who wrote "Most roads lead men homewards," but where does her home lead to? Does the road take her towards her home, or does it say, "My road leads me forth?"

Love. "Ghar mein already kam dil tootein hai jo tum …?" She doesn't believe in love. It is nonexistent. It is an emotional product that is sellable. She thinks the problem [love] is in the head, "… baarish ko romantic mat bolna. Don't behave like an idiot."

Rain. “Baarish ke darr se ghar ka raasta nehin bhool te.” She hates rain. It reminds her of heartbreak, of all the residue that clogs the drain of her heart. “Yeh jo duniya bhar ka keechad hai naa, saaf karke aati hoon.” She caught an auto for her home. Suddenly someone barged in asking for a ride with her. She has to go north and he, south. "North and South has both met," but as Elizabeth Gaskell asks - will they "make kind o' friends in this big smoky place?" We don't know. The time is yet to come.

The rain is pouring heavily; she came to her room; he went to his mansion; two lonely hearts were pouring their emptiness into the rain. She feels she doesn't need anyone. He marveled at the rain and its ability to portray someone's hurt, someone's love, someone's heart, someone's heart rhythm.

"The line between the ocean and the sky became harder to judge, as the light faltered second by second. The barometer was falling. There would be a storm before morning." ~ The Light Between Oceans.

She looked at the distance; something intriguing was evolving far, far away from her comprehension. What is that?

See how the orient dew,

Shed from the bosom of the morn

Into the blowing roses,

Yes, she remembers the poem by Andrew Marvell. She spent the whole night by the window in search of what? How strange, though, she wondered. A dewdrop on the rose. Or is it a boondein from the rain, and it had the ability to loosen one petal from the rose? “Soona pan, veerani, mayussi, aur hum.” Indeed!

A date. Why? She lost a bet to her sisters. She came out of her estranged father's house. Two hatred does not make it a positive; her hate for her father and her disdain for the rain. She reached the restaurant. She feels alienated there. She convinces herself - “main kisi aisi bande ka intezaar nehin kar rahi jo aayega aur meri zindagi badal dega.” She knew the date would be a disaster. But who was he who tried to console her? He called her lioness, his Rockstar. Look within yourself; you are beautiful inside and out. Was it for her? Maybe. She thanked the unknown – “kabhi kabhi ek ajnabi ke baat dil ko sukoon de jati hai.”

With her coffee, she stood by her window. Her eyes fell on the same rose again. But, she noticed another dewdrop on the second unfolded petal bent backward. She wondered how a teardrop could have the ability to turn a rose petal? The color of the crimson petal through the raindrop is PURPLE. She remembers the poem again.

How it the purple flow'r does slight,

Scarce touching where it lies,

But gazing back upon the skies,

Shines with a mournful light,

Who was he who made her feel ROYAL [purple]? He called her brave [purple heart]. He gave her hope. In her mind, she started searching the lines by Emily Dickinson.

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

Is she starting to see the world in a different light? “kuch jana, kuch anjana sa woh lage … saari raina sapna ban ke woh aankhon mein jaage.” She wiped her tears. She didn't realize that the slight smile on her face was the hope he gave her. But, hope is unseen and momentary. She remembered she needed to meet her friend for the divorce settlement. Love is always futile. “Yeh pyaar ke chonchlein mere liye nehin hai.” Pointless. How do we draw a circle? Does it even have a point? "But one cannot mark a place upon a circle," can she? "To mark a place upon a circle is to break it so that it is not a circle any longer." Eleanor Catton wrote, "…. Around. And then back again, beginning." Then what is the point of love if one, even after marriage, is alone again? She decides never to marry. She is happy taking care of her family. So why is it always when we are resolute in our decisions, tides come and change the flow of the ocean?

The rain stopped, and she came to her favorite window. It has become a habit for her to check on the rose. She saw a couple of droplets on the third petal; observing the petal, her mind wandered away. She smiled at that trivial joke. What was it? “Tissue tissue pe likha hai ronewale ka naam.” Though he cracks the worst jokes, he was the first person to protect her on that rainy day. “Aaj pehli baar kisi ne meri madat karne ki koshish ki toh ajeeb laga.”

Why is she fascinated by a rose? Is it because roses have thorns? Her life had dealt so many big blows. Her father cheated on her mother and her family; the man she started trusting married her sister one fine day; her brother put forth a condition forcing her to think about marriage. She doesn't want to get married. Her distrust in men is the driving force for her to stay single forever. So she started walking towards the road after the heated altercation. She didn't like him playing matchmaker for her. She felt cheated again—this time by a stranger.

"Sometimes life turns out hard, Isabel. Sometimes it just bites right through you. And sometimes, just when you think it's done its worst, it comes back and takes another chunk." ~ The Light Between Oceans.

She walked in the rain for the first time, drenched in it. Sandy came and reminded her that there is a first for everything. “Di, aaj kitni ajeeb baat hui hai naa? Aap ki Mr. Ram Kapoor ke saath nok jhonk ki wajah se jo bhi kuch hua par aaj aap pehli baar baarish mein bheeg rahi ho di.” She was stupefied. She wanted to run to her home and look at the rose. Did it fall off the stem, or is it still standing? As the rain stopped, she ran towards the garden. What she saw surprised her. How did the raindrop on the fourth petal be able to fold it back? What is it trying to tell her? That she did something which she never expected? Bare her heart and soul in the rain!

"And a beautiful world we live in, when it is possible, and when many other such things are possible, and not only possible, but done-- done, see you!-- under that sky there, every day." ~ A Tale of Two Cities

She is engaged to him. But her past is still a pestilence to her and her family. “Yeh sab mera ateet hai, jo mera peecha nehin chod raha hai, lekin main usse kab ka peeche chod chuki hoon.” Her integrity does not allow her to take insults. She abhors rain, still. It reminds her of all the pain and betrayal. Still, she went to his house and signed the contract. He was shocked at her self-respect. He has never witnessed anyone so independent, determined, strong, truthful, and above all, principled. “Jo mere usul hai naa, woh mujhe bade acche lagte hai.” He fell for her; he forgot he had a past. She stepped into his heart. As Jenny [Pri] in The Civil Contract tells Julia [Vedika] - "He [Ram] didn't choose between me and you, Julia: it was between me and ruin."

"A single rose is, in essence, a symbol of completion, of consummate achievement and perfection. Hence, accruing to it are all those ideas associated with these qualities: the mystic Centre, the heart, the garden of Eros, the paradise of Dante, the Beloved, the emblem of Venus, and so on."

Yes, she remembers the definition of the rose by J.E. Cerlot. She came home late that night. The sun rose the following day, and she rushed to the window to check on that single rose. Not surprisingly, there was a raindrop, a boondein, on the fifth petal, very close to that mystic heart. The petal bent backward to open the heart. The last petal allowed the rain to open the door to its heart. The rain was its undoing, and yet as Haley MacLeod writes - "You need the rain to become a rose."

When did it happen? How did she find her home? She doesn't know, how. Neither does she know the exact time. But today that “Samundar ko pata hai ke woh aap ke ghar ke saamne hai?" is hers.

She knew why she hated rain. “Baarish se takleef nehin hai mujhe; takleef un sab yadoon se jo iss baarish ke saath aati hai. Woh dhokhe, woh fareb, kaise aache lage baarish?” But today, his radiance erased all her darkness.

He became the sun of her life. “Agar koi mujhse poochein ki aap ki jagah inn sitaron mein kahan hai, toh main aap se kehti ki aap sitarein hai hi nehin. Aap toh SURAJ hai. Jis tarah suraj ke ird gird puri kaynaat ghumti hain, ussi tarah apki charon taraf meri duniya,”

"Why, it almost makes one forgive the rain, does it not - when the sun comes out like this, at the end of it all." ~ The Luminaries

This is possibly the best piece of writing I have seen in my on and off relationship with IF and itv. I have read a few ffs on this forum and the quality was gooodd, but I normally don't read ffs once I go off a show. However, this is a nice forum, with nice, fun people, and I stop by frequently and follow BTSs.

Your post reminded me of the early show, and your descriptions are lyrical and full of imagery, but what elevates your beautifully written words is how thoughtfully you have laid out the meaning of actions, colours and emotions. This piece is actually a scholarly dissertation and truly impressive. I very much doubt the writers give their sad mess as much analysis as you have, but who knows? They might read this and pick up some hints on how to remedy the show from Saas, Woh aur Saazish to something like what was promised.

I know the latest BTS will end with Priya 'winning', but I want more than manufactured trp moments. I'd like, for once, to see an organic and thoughtful narrative, and you actually provided a glimpse of how that could happen.

Thank you for this.

Looking forward to Priya's part.

Originally posted by: Doodle

Nazar v/s Nazariyaan: Ram Kapoor

It was the night under the rain. A man drenched with the idea of love; love, his belief, happens only once in a lifetime. He promises [himself] to love her forever where there is no place for anyone. He was wearing black and she, magenta.

What is an idea? We define an idea as a thought or a formulated thought, an imaginary figment of the mind or belief. What if an idea is just an illusion? If an illusion, then will that idea ever be tangible or concrete?

She asks him a favor, and he promises to fulfill by next year's rain. He has never learned to say 'no' to her. She comes forward to thank him but is startled by the lightning.

"Love comes like lightning, and disappears the same way. If you are lucky, it strikes you right. If not, you'll spend your life yearning for a man you can't have." ~ The Palace of Illusions.

He stood firm on his ground. She stepped back. It started to rain. She protected herself from it, but he, drenched with the idea of love and the illusion, reminded her he still loves rain and took a step back. But, he said – "whether I am in your life or not, my life is all yours; no one will ever have a place in it."

Black, a color that absorbs all colors. A color that is unambiguous, definite, and exudes authority and power. Magenta is a color that DOESN'T exist. Magenta is a lure; it is an illusion. Hevel (vapor in Hebrew). The color magenta is just an illusion created by our eyes. It is not found on the visible spectrum of light, and there is no wavelength of this color. How can then unambiguity and illusion ever be together?

How can we conceptualize an idea whose foundation is an illusion? It is a mist that disappears before our eyes could even shape, name, live, dream, or even build. On the contrary, what if our idea is an imagination? Then we can conceptualize it. He dreams of merging their families with his sweetheart sister's wedding to her brother-in-law. There will be a wedding but not them as bride and groom. Their hearts will never be together; still, deep down, he is happy to be with her in the same room - to ask for nothing but a slight presence. But, "doesn't the imagination always exaggerate – or diminish – truth?" ~ writes Chitra Divakaruni. Yes, it does. His dream of togetherness shattered. It had to. After all, it was built on illusion.

"Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor [hevel] that appears for a little while and then vanishes away." ~ James 4:14

The illusion had to break because the dream was impractical. "Apni naiyyan toh nikal chuki hai boss. Iss toofan mein yeh kashti akeli ghumegi." It had to shatter someday. No one, even his imaginary beloved, waited for him to arrive at the engagement. When our illusions break, then only we realize the difference between pretense and love. We realize that couples fight, argue, taunt, hurt, exude all emotions in true love. Without this, we cannot experience love.

What is love? What is unrequited love? "This thirst!" Eleanor Catton asks, "but is it love, when it is unrequited? If home can't be where you come from," she asks, "then home is what you make of where you go." Yes, one year later, on that rainy day, when his car broke down, Adi advised him to take an auto which will take him home. "Jaa Ram, yeh raashta tujhe tere ghar tak pahunchayega." He couldn't catch the auto because the right time was yet to arrive.

He is sitting in a dark room. The room has no windows. No crack in any walls will allow any light to come in through. Then one day, he saw a yellow smear on the wall. Wondering, is there a crack? What is it that sits on the wall? He turned towards the opposite wall. He sees a spectrum of different colors that a human eye can see. He gets up and walks towards the opposite wall, and rubs the iridescent surface. They are all visible colors. He touches the yellow, red, blue, green, and PURPLE. Yes, they are real. [She IS real.] He turned around to look at the inception of the ray and trudged towards it. Once he reaches, he fudges with it. Surprisingly, it became a bit bigger. Is that a crack, he wonders? The circumference of the light became bigger. Sunlight burst through it. His eyes were used to the darkness, and the light blinded him. Time passed, and he started to get used to the light around. "Time," as Chitra Divakaruni writes, "is like a flower. It visualized a lotus opening, the way the outer petals fall away to reveal the inner ones. An inner petal would never know older outer ones, even though it was shaped by them, and only the viewer who plucked the flower would see how each petal was connected to the others." He began to experience life: anger, happiness, irritation, expectation, hatred, calmness, and above all else, true love. True love weaved with anger, taunt, fight, argument, laughter, care, anticipation.

He found someone who waits for him to return home; who cooks for him all the cuisines he craved watching Yash Chopra movies; who lights up his house; who would make rangoli on Diwali; who fasts for him in festivals; who taunts him on his whims he'd least expect; who fights for his justice; who punishes her brother for calling him, stepbrother.

"He[Ram] took her face between his hands, turning it up, and looking down at her for a moment before he kissed her. "I do love you, Jenny [Priya]," he said gently. "Very much indeed-- you are part of my life. Julia[Vedika] was never that - only a boy's impractical dream." ~ A Civil Contract by Georgette Heyer

Reference: https://scholarblogs.emory.edu/artsbrain/2020/12/02/magenta-doesnt-exist/

Pure bliss

But this is FD Nazar

Nazriya of CVs are something different altogether

Your parallel is so deep, your analysis is so good, that the authors should be jealous of it. You have decomposed the life of the characters to the last point, painted it in the most correct colors, which indicate to us the further development of the story, the motives of Ram and Priya, how and why they act.

Originally posted by: Mangs1303

This is possibly the best piece of writing I have seen in my on and off relationship with IF and itv. I have read a few ffs on this forum and the quality was gooodd, but I normally don't read ffs once I go off a show. However, this is a nice forum, with nice, fun people, and I stop by frequently and follow BTSs.

Your post reminded me of the early show, and your descriptions are lyrical and full of imagery, but what elevates your beautifully written words is how thoughtfully you have laid out the meaning of actions, colours and emotions. This piece is actually a scholarly dissertation and truly impressive. I very much doubt the writers give their sad mess as much analysis as you have, but who knows? They might read this and pick up some hints on how to remedy the show from Saas, Woh aur Saazish to something like what was promised.

I know the latest BTS will end with Priya 'winning', but I want more than manufactured trp moments. I'd like, for once, to see an organic and thoughtful narrative, and you actually provided a glimpse of how that could happen.

Thank you for this.

Looking forward to Priya's part.

Thank you so much! I am really humbled and I am so glad you loved it.

@ bold: You made my day! ❤️ I will try to do a better job in analyzing Pri.

I believe that the writers do think on the story and all literary devices, but the problem is TRP rules the charts and hence we see a concocted story, sometimes.

Originally posted by: tirchinazar

Pure bliss

But this is FD Nazar

Nazriya of CVs are something different altogether

Absolutely! Nazariyaan of CVs sometimes are like today's episode. They throw us with googlies, and all we do is end up speculating.

Originally posted by: SEA05

Your parallel is so deep, your analysis is so good, that the authors should be jealous of it. You have decomposed the life of the characters to the last point, painted it in the most correct colors, which indicate to us the further development of the story, the motives of Ram and Priya, how and why they act.

Aww. You have all my heart. Thank you! ❤️

Yes, the first 50 episodes were worth watching. The writers have a fabulous job of using all literary rhetorical devices, and the art department complimented them.

Listen doodsie,

this is tapping that side of Color analyst (psychologically and otherwise) in me…

There were principles of cinema and Color organically playing in the initial 45ish episodes… I don’t know if they did it consciously or not… but it was good.. not superlatively, but as per current standards, it was good.

It reminded me of Gorky’s (I think?)handling of single tear drop of Geet(one of my fav scenes) , but in a smooth flow manner.. gorky cuts and emphasises the important, giving perspective with respect to character.

In here, they were pouring in characters, their principles, paths, pinings,pricks,people,parts shattered yet savoured, prances, peeves and prides all together… making the protagonists collide as his friends wish for him and her people taunting her… we were served a lasagna to break into flavours and parts. Had it been not a soap, but simple loooong story establishment act, and we sit through that and realise the effort that went into it, is actually that good!

Coming to the Color and circumstance and connections, I will definitely come back here soon, may be by then Priya’s will be done!

But, but,but! 🙈 can’t go without actually putting up something…☺️

This has been used in golden girls series… “feeling magenta” by Blanche! I am cnp ing the dialogue script here 😆

Dorothy: And I was feeling jealous and Ionely and... God knows what else.

Blanche: Magenta.

Dorothy: Excuse me?

Blanche: Magenta. That's what I call it when I get that way. All kinds of feelings tumbling all over themselves. Well, you know, you're not quite blue because you're not really sad and although you're a little jealous, you wouldn't say you're green with envy and every now and then you realize you're kinda scared but you'd hardly call yourself yellow. I hate that feeling. I just hate it. And I hate the color magenta. That's why I named it that. Magenta. No way to really explain it but, fortunately, between friends, you don't have to.

Magenta is kinda the perfect color to use for a made-up feeling🤭

Oh yeah! I remember the teardrop.

Actually makes sense with magenta - and mixed up feelings when one is pretty unsure. This explains why even we got today's scene when Ram entered and still he thought of her 'could have been happy' dialogue.

With Pri, he is confident in the status quo even when he taunted her on 'dost' equation. This is how real feelings generate. They DO make you uncomfortable.