Chandra Nandini 76-85: Parts 1 & 2

Part 1: On a switchback road

Folks,

At the outset - and this seems to be becoming the rule more than the exception - my apologies for being a week late with this one. My RA seems to be flaring up with disconcert ing frequency, which makes me doubtful about how long I can continue to inflict these analyses on you all. But that is for the future.

For now, we have 10 episodes to cover, with a seesaw script that often drives the viewers crazy, but withal embellished with such marvellous scenes between our lead pair - touching, affectionate, magical, despairing, angry, and above all desperate in their unvoiced need for each other - that one ends up forgiving the CVs all their trespasses. So let us begin.

Do you remember the last time you drove on a switchback road in the mountains? On a road that turns right and then fifty yards later, turns left . The next bend comes even quicker, in barely 20 yards. Then there is a 100 yard stretch, and when you just start breathing easy and relax, boom! The next sharp bend is so sudden that you almost go off the road and down the mountainside. At times, it is a corkscrew bend, which makes you come almost full circle. Soon, apart from clinging for dear life to the steering wheel, you begin to despair of ever getting where you want to.

I did this sort of thing often over 40 years ago, on my first diplomatic posting to Geneva. One of the worst was when I was on my way to Como, in northern Italy. After negotiating the Swiss mountain road, which was two lane and crowded with aggressive trucks, I had to do the very same kind of driving, tackling sharp bends every 20 yards or less on a two lane road, all along the shore of Lake Como. I was a good driver, but when I finally got out in front of a hotel to get a room, my eyes were still focussed on looking 20 yards ahead. So I walked straight into the plate glass entrance door that had been cleaned spotlessly.

I was stunned, literally, and and I split the skin over my left eyebrow. I did not realise this at all, and walked over to the reception. Surface cuts sometimes bleed very badly, and I am afraid that besides scaring the poor folks there stiff, I did not do the reception area carpet much good! I was pretty tough in those days, so after they patched me up, I drove on to Milan the next day for my date with The Last Supper. However, for that evening and night, things were bad.

Switchback scripting: This is exactly what I feel like of late about Chandra Nandini. The stunned feeling, that is, not the blood. Not yet, that is.

Let us just check out this switchback script very briefly.

No sooner had we finished exulting in the soaring histrionics and the emotional heft of Episode 75 than we landed in the first of Chandra's encounters with Roopa and her nails. This was fine, and we laughed at poor Chandra's confusion about the pseudo-Nandini. Would the real one have recovered from the trauma of the night before, we wondered.

The road now bent suddenly to the right, and we ended up with two semi-comic, semi-emotional scenes : that of Lep Scene No. 1 (these are going to be numerous, whence the advance numbering!) and of The Choice of Mura's Birthday Present. It was enough to flummox anyone who attached some importance to consistency of tone, but the scenes were so charming ki sab kuch maaf!

Especially when - after a disorienting interlude between Roopa and Chandra in the garden, we got another pleasant scene in the court, with our Odd Couple discreetly sharing their first, secret insider joke about the vaanar.

Of two snankakshes: Lest we should get spoilt, a sharp left turn came up, with Roopa inviting Malayketu to the snankaksh. Which led in turn to two bathing scenes with totally contrasting moods, as a touchingly hopeful Chandra, abruptly disillusioned, lashed himself into a fury of bitter disappointment, and sought to humiliate Nandini the only way he seems to know, by canoodling with Helena in front of her.

Immediately, we went right again, as Nandini cuts her hand, and runs away, with Chandra haring after her to their room. Follows the portrait scene - I owe you that one, Sri! - then Lep Scene No.2. By now, the road seems uncertain about which way to turn.

Leftish, finally, as Nandini weakly denies all the allegations, and is later told by the vaidya' that she is suffering from the vipareet vyaktitva vyadhi (clearly that old crone is a fan of alliteration!😆) .

Involuntary romance: Right again, with a mehendi snippet out of the blue, and our leads making coy eyes at each other as if the snankaksh fiasco, and the letter to Malay, were all only a bad dream!

The raat mein keeda sequence was another disconnected comic interlude pasted on at this point, bending the script even further to the right.

Next came Roopa's serendipitous switch of the gift thalis, for which she got quite unwarranted kudos from none less than Aapama, while I forbore from asking the one pertinent question: How on earth did Roopa know about the existence of those two switchable (sic) gifts anyway?

OK, then comes the actual gift giving ceremony, with Nandini being praised, predictably, by daadi for the choice of Chandra's gift. The sun is shining and all is well with the world. But not for long!

The gift fiasco: So we have the next crisis, with Nandini being confronted by a weepy Mura, who has taken the trouble to tog herself out in that red joda, instead of doing what any sensible female would do, ie carry it with her.😕

Nandini, following the boilerplate conventions of our TV/films, instead of yelling out in 20 seconds flat that this was her gift for Kanika Ma that had somehow been exchanged with the one for Mura Ma, bleats ineffectively Suniye to, maa! Meri baat to suniye!!

Follows the unexpected straight stretch in the road, as Chandra - though not, to my regret, using his own grey cells😉 - sorts out the problem and exculpates Nandini in style.

Of diyas and kumkum: Not just that, but we get a special treat in the diya scene, which is not just visually lovely , but also shows our Odd Couple indulging in a rare bit of gentle and mutually revealing conversation.

This mood is reinforced, though in a standard issue chhed chhad fashion, by the double kumkum smearing bit.

Unbelievably distasteful: Time for the next savage bend to the left. To wit, the decidedly unaesthetic drunken dance by Roopa. Any man, not to speak of a samrat, with an ounce of brains would have dragged Nandini off stage at the first signs of her inebriation, but apna Chandra sits there as if he was at a performance and waiting for the curtain to come down. Even when he finally gets up, he moves so glacially that I was tempted to kick his backside to make him get a move on!😡

The follow through to this exhibitionism was both predictable and unpredictable.

The Chandra-Nandini madirawali scene was undoubtedly powerful, and it would head the list of my choice scenes over these 2 weeks. But in the end, it was nothing but a masochistic parade of lacerated feelings by two individuals, the kind of parade which has, I am forced to say, become predictable, and fatiguing. Chandra's question - Who are you really, Nandini? - remained unanswered, and Nandini's fine sounding lines about her hriday made no real sense at all. We are here talking only of the scripting, not the acting, be it noted.

Incomprehensible leniency ?: As for the unpredictable, it was beyond belief that Mura, who cut up so rough with Nandini over that lal joda, had nothing, but nothing to say to her after that disgraceful public exhibition by the pseudo-Nandini. Instead of hauling Nandini over the coals the next morning, Mura is busy trying to bring her son and this disgraceful bahu closer together!!!😡 Predictably, Mura received a very bad press on this count.

A kundali angle?: The only possible explanation for this is something that has, strangely enough, not been trotted out as yet, though it is a Balaji staple. This is the Akhandasowbhagyavati yog in the bahu's kundali, which serves as a cast iron protection for her husband's life. If Nandini's kundali has this rare yog, naturally uske to sau khoon maaf, aur ek madhoshi mein kiya gaya nritya kya hai? Ya shatru ki putri hona kya hai?

I am waiting with bated breath to see if this special feature in Nandini's horoscope is actually announced soon. 😉😉

The Chandra-Malay duel was not a patch on similar scenes between the two actors that we have seen before, perhaps because Rajat is still not quite fit.

Now we arrive at a corkscrew turn.

A quadrangular confrontation:There is first Roopa's rather oomphy turn as a would be seductress with Malay - she looked quite something, stretched out languidly on his bed 😉- followed by Chhaya's erupting on the scene , her complaining to Chandra, and finally the four cornered encounter between Chandra, Chhaya, Malay and Nandini.

Which ends with both Nandini and Chandra at a point 360 degrees away from where they had started, ie at the same place.

Nandini, instead of informing the rest about her vipareet vyaktitva vyadhi , once more whimpers that she had not done nothing. One can only conclude that the girl has lost it.😡 As for Chandra, he threatens Nandini for the umpteenth time with expulsion from the palace as soon as daadi has taken herself off to Piplivan (some hope!) . His is dharti se hi nirvaasit kar doonga threat of the day before has gone with the wind.😉

The ugly, deliberately provoking Chandra-Roopa encounter, clearly intended to drive him off the Nandputri for good, was followed by a precap that was 180 degrees away from it in mood.

My poor head felt, at this point, as if I had walked into that hotel door once more.

Champagne sparkle: But to my great surprise, the next day, in Episode 84, the CVs foxed me, and you too, I am sure. Though we had a solid dose of daadi's sachcharine goings on with our lead pair, the dance performance by Nandini was tolerable, and what followed was superb.

Not just the confused emotionalism of the exchange of farewell gifts between Chandra and Nandini, and the packing session, but far and away the best in a long time, the bubbly champagne gaiety of the scene where Chandra announces that Nandini was not to leave at once after all. The giggly chase around the room, ending in outright, full throated hilarity all round, was a real treat to behold, so very fresh and so very appealing.👏

Crass and repetitive: But one could not expect the road to stay to the right, or even straight, for too long. So there is a nasty leftwards swerve when, post the session with daadi about the Mukhya Maharani pratiyogita*, Chandra deliberately goes out of his way to needle Nandini by, what else, making up to Helena in a style that was so OTT as to make me reach for a stout slipper. It was so crass, so stupid and so, so repetitive. Poor Rajat, he must be sick and tired of this stuff that is wished on him!

Of course a certified romantic could put a good face on this, and interpret it as Chandra using reverse psychology on Nandini to push her to fight and win. But this explanation does not quite hold up when one sees that but for daadi extracting that promise from Nandini, the silly girl would - as she had decided, assuming that in the final round, Chandra would choose Helena in any case - have let Helena win. So that intriguing look on Chandra's face at the very end, and his parting snub - both being benevolently interpreted as meant to provoke Nandini to fight hard - would, but for daadi, have added up to nothing.

*NB: The Mukhya Maharani pratiyogita: Many of my readers might see no reason for the paras that follow, reasoning, logically, that no one in their senses would think of admitting Durdhara to any competition, seeing that this would inevitably reduce it to a single point pratiyogita in foolish babbling.😉

But there was a strong chorus of opinion in my last thread on this point, and Daadi was hauled over the coals for being casteist and non-egalitarian in shutting Durdhara out (not that she seemed to mind!). These protests seemed to me to be based on a misreading of the issue, so I felt that some clarifications would be in order. Those of you who are not interested in this can simply skip this section.

As the immortal Holmes always said, it is a capital mistake to theorise without data. The data here is what Daadi says when explaining the admission rules for the competition, viz.:

Yeh pooja wohi rani kar sakti hai jo raj gharane ki hai. Durdhara ise nahin kar sakti kyonki wo ek vyapaari ki beti hai.

That is it. Only raj gharana. Not kshatriya, vaisha and anything else.

So, the first thing is that caste does not come into this at all. It is purely royalty vs commoner. And there is no quarrelling with this distinction! There was never any question of all the queens in any royal household of that era being equal; there was always differentiation, on this or on other grounds.

Now here, what counts is not the father's original status in society, but his eventual rank. Padmanand had begun life as a naapit, but he did become the Samrat of Magadh, and ruled in that capacity for 20 years, being acknowledged as such by all the other kings around Magadha. So he had clearly become a royal, just as, throughout history, every conqueror of an existing kingdom or the founder of a new one became a royal.

Like Napoleon, to take a 19^th century example. He was a plebeian by birth, but was recognized as the Emperor of France by all of Europe , so much so that the Hapsburg Emperor himself gave his daughter Marie Louise in marriage to Napoleon.

To revert, Padmanand was a king, and Avantika was a queen in her own right, though the latter was not so essential. So Nandini, who is born after Padmanand has become the Magadhasamrat, is a royal.

To resume, the rest of episode 85- the scene between Nandini and daadi, and the substitution plan - was neither here nor there.

The precap, between a breathless Nandini (some feel this might be Roopa, but then why would Roopa try to strengthen Nandini's hand? ) declaiming about the complexities of the Magadha praja - which reminded me of nothing so much as Shankar Mahadevan's Breathless, a prolonged vocal exercise in non-stop chanting - and a shell-shocked Chandra, was presumably meant to signal the next rightward swing.

By now, I had had more than enough, and I was glad to have the weekend break.

Inviting prospect ahead: This is not to say that I was depressed, for I have something pleasant to look forward to in a few days, once the MMP had been got out of the way.

The whole pratiyogita shindy is clearly meant to get Chandra and Nandini away from Pataliputra for a while, which is something of which I approve whole-heartedly.Something like the Takshashila track, and possibly better, as they settle down in Chandra's home village for a spell of playing at being Shri. aur Shrimati Gaonwaale.So I do not really mind what happens for the next few episodes.

I wonder about only one thing: Roopa would have to be kept corked up in that secret room while Nandini is out of the palace. She is perennially like a tea kettle on the boil, so I am sure that her minders are going to have a tough time keeping her in line! In fact, that is one of my consistent delights these days - watching the helpless duo of Sunanda and Aapama try to cope with Roopa's uncontrollable and destructive rages, especially when they are to the detriment of Aapama's Macedonian objets d'art!😆

State of play for our principal dramatis personae

I had intended to round off this rather odd post with brief takes on a few standout scenes over these two weeks. However, it seems to me that some kind of summary of where the main characters stand at present might be useful.

Chanakya: Unexpected revelations: He was mostly invisible during this period, and then took us all aback by turning up at the very end, that too with his family. They clearly live in their home village, and he visits them whenever he can, which, seeing Smt. Chanakya, is bound to be as infrequently as he can manage!😉

Now one cannot hold it against the poor man that he made the colossal mistake of marrying this shrewish female in his salad years. It can happen to the wisest of men, and often does! One presumes that like Mr.Bennet in Pride and Prejudice, he was taken in by her good looks when she was young, and by the appearance of good humour which youth and good looks often produce, and by the time he realised her true nature it was too late. 😆

The daughter does not look like a shrinking violet, and one presumes that the wife will now insist on the two of them accompanying him to Pataliputra when he returnes to the court, so as to find her a suitable bridegroom.

The two females will be a welcome addition to the Pataliputra paagalkhaana, 😉 and I expect that the daughter will in due course fall for Chandra, being the 5^th to do so after his three wives and Roopa. The more the merrier, and it will be interesting to see what Roopa makes of her and vice versa.

Impeccable probity:As for Chanakya's little illustration of strict probity, it reminded me of US President Harry Truman. He always kept a separate folder of 3 cent stamps, which he had paid for, in his office. His secretary used these stamps for President Truman's private letters.

Nandini: Caught in a trap: About Nandini, we know one thing: she is truly, deeply, irrevocably in love with Chandra. The interesting thing about this is that contrary to my own original expectations, she does this without having learnt the truth about Padmanand. Her love for Chandra is sui generis, or swayambhu.

Unfortunately, while the onset of this grand passion has done wonders for Shweta's performance, it has not made Nandini either more sensible and practical, or happier, in fact quite the opposite. At times, one begins to wonder how anyone can have so little commonsense!😡

She makes an idiotic promise to Sunanda - the rationale offered for which by that devious female should never have fooled her - that she would not talk to Chandra or anyone else about her alleged split personality disorder, something in which she believes firmly by now. And in the process of sticking to this promise, she sinks deeper and deeper into a quagmire of weak and untenable denials when confronted with instances of "her" truly abominable behaviour, which have been duly listed above.

This apart, she clutches at every straw of fleeting happiness that her interactions with Chandra throw up, and revels in them while they last, with the transparent joy of a kid clutching at balloons . But like the balloons, these joys float away from the poor girl all too soon. 😭

She has no ego where he is concerned, and never tries to turn the tables on him by ignoring him while he is flirting with Helena in order to rile her . This is what I find the most irritating thing about Nandini. Her large tear-filled eyes as she regards Chandra and Helena canoodling get my goat, and at times I have wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her till her teeth rattle, in an effort to knock some sense into her noddy.😡 When she stood around scattering flowers into that bath for the two of them and weeping, I was livid. In her place, I would have refused flat, or dumped the plate six inches from Chandra's head and left!😡

Nandini is gentle and affectionate to all around her - Daadi, Mura, Kanika, Durdhara, and till the Roopa angle emerges, Chhaya as well. She is warm hearted and sensitive, as can be seen from the two perfect gifts for Mura that she chooses- Chandra's and her own.

But none of this will suffice for her to find her way out of the fog of deceit with which the devious troika of Sunanda, Roopa and Aapama have surrounded her, and all those whom she loves.

For now, Nandini is very lonely and lost. She has no friend with whom she can discuss her terrible problem, no one to hold her hand, no one to comfort her and advise her wisely. And the man she loves unconditionally is not only as confused and impractical as she is, but he also has a sadistic streak that surfaces every time he feels, with considerable justification, that she is a two timing Jezebel.

It will probably have to be Lady Luck who eventually pulls her out the chakravyuh in which she is trapped.

Shweta plays this Nandini to perfection, whether in her transient joys or in her sorrows.

Roopa: An angry, wild spirit: This might surprise many, but I really feel very sorry for Roopa.

Just look at it this way. She, born a princess, was almost murdered by her own father because of a prediction that she would lead to his destruction. She is saved by an unscrupulous woman for her own ends, raised among, as she says herself, daaku lootere, in a way that can readily be imagined. She was deprived of every advantage, every luxury, that was her due, all of which was then lavished on her twin. She is used by her mentor, Sunanda, for her own nefarious activities, which clearly included extortion. In short, instead of being a pampered princess of Magadha, she has been forced to become a lowlife gangster.

Every trait of hers that now causes us revulsion is rooted in her abandonment as a baby and her subsequent upbringing among the dregs of society. She is a wild spirit, and a very angry one, and this anger explodes any time she is thwarted and her plans - like the one for the exchange of the gift for Mura - fail.

One can imagine the blind hatred that would have been festering inside Roopa all these years, sedulously fostered by Sunanda, focussed on the twin whom she sees as having usurped all that was her due. Nandini. It is no use arguing that nothing of what happened to Roopa was Nandini's fault. That is not how such things work.

Roopa also hates the father who was ready to kill her, or have her killed, to save his own skin, and she asserts that she wants him to die at her hands. But somewhere deep inside her, there might well be a different feeling, the need to be accepted and loved by the very father she now professes to hate. And because of the duality of her feelings vis a vis her father, her virulent hatred towards Nandini - the one whom that very father loves more than himself - gains in strength.

Everything that Roopa does against Nandini is, superficially, at the behest of Sunanda and Aapama, but the crusade to destroy her twin, to cut her off from every source of physical and emotional support, is her own. And this includes cutting her off from Chandra. Given this, there is no point condemning her for anything she does against Nandini any more than there is a point in condemning a wounded street dog for biting the person who threatens it.

The sticky point will come when she really falls for Chandra. For to cut Nandini off from Chandra without exposing herself would mean cutting herself, Roopa, off from him as well. Will she accept this ? Or would she switch plans, try to eliminate Nandini altogether and replace her in Chandra's life, however tough such a transformation might seem for Roopa to pull off? We have to wait and watch.

As for the performance, I am not entirely satisfied with Shweta's Roopa. A double role per se is not anything very tough to do, and any number of actors and actresses have managed it successfully. Shweta herself has done an acclaimed, National Award winning double role as a child artist in Makdee. She tries hard here too. But somehow, her Roopa seems rather stagey to me, somewhat overdone and too loud when she is herself, not masquerading as Nandini.

She does very much better as Nandini, and I do not mean that because the character is so much more likeable.

Chandragupta :Crippling obsession: I am using the full name partly to remind myself of who he is😉. Otherwise, after watching him for these 10 episodes - going about unannounced within the palace, not shown presiding over the court at all, hanging around his wives or the snankaksh or his daadi, obsessing over the wife he professes to hate - one could be excused for forgetting that he is the samrat of Magadha. The fact is that for all his periodic assertions that he is a samrat, Chandra, as of now, neither looks nor behaves like a king.

Part of this is of course because, after a very different upbringing till adulthood as a charwaha's son, he is still on a learning curve as far as kingship goes, and is extremely dependent in all ways on his Acharya. But then there is also the unexpected, and unwanted, indeed fiercely but unsuccessfully resisted pull of his love for Nandini.

Right now, he resembles nothing so much as a raft on storm-tossed seas, pulled this way and that by the waves. The love for Nandini that has taken determined possession of him, despite every effort of his to deny it and dislodge it, is a source of endless frustration and misery. This was so even earlier, due to his stupid readiness to believe the canard that she was still in love with Malayketu. But now, with the Roopa factor added on, matters have become much worse, as Chandra is beset with daily scandals, in which Nandini is seen as besmirching his honour as a king and a husband.

Now he cannot be blamed for his fury at Nandini, and has in fact to be applauded for the moderation of his protest to her after the drunken shindy in court , and the sober tone in which he demands an explanation of her behavioural swings. Thanks to Nandini's persistent folly, he gets no real answer, bar weak denials that only drive him to despair, since he has "seen" Nandini doing all the things she now asserts that she did not do.

Yet, no matter how great the humiliation he has to suffer on her account - and this cannot get worse than after Roopa's drunken display in front of the whole court - he cannot bring himself to punish Nandini as he would have done with any other woman. He threatens her repeatedly with condign punishment, even death, were she to try to entice Malayketu any longer, but when push comes to shove, all he does is to exile her, and that too with the greatest reluctance.

And it needs only some display of caring for him and his family on Nandini's part to move him to happy, genuine gratitude, as in the diya scene on the terrace. Or to a sudden hopeful lurch of his heart as he listens to Roopa talk about a new beginning.

On the other hand, his inner demons make him periodically treat Nandini in an extra harsh, at times sadistic manner, repeatedly humiliating her, in front of Helena and otherwise.

Frozen grey cells: All in all, Chandra is, right now, in an almighty mess. Anne (AJSharma79) probably put it the best when she wrote on my last thread:

Chandra is going through the 'walking' phase...you know when babies learn to walk...they want to walk but they are wobbly and unsteady and they fall, but despite the hurt they still will want to walk. To me that is what Chandra is doing. He is in love, he likes being in love, it hurts to be in love and yet he cannot stop being in love.

Babies usually begin to walk at about 10 months. Given this, I would only add that Chandra must have been dropped on his head, probably by his foster father, at about 3 months. The effects of that impact still linger, and have most likely seriously affected his cerebral processes. 😉😉

Thus, it never even occurs to him to consult a Vaidya about the bizarre and diametrically opposite ways in which Nandini behaves from one day to another, and at times within the same day.

Especially when a drugged Nandini, whom he tries to quiz angrily on the drunken nritya, hugs him and then, her hand clinging to his, scolds him: Main ek suhagan stree hoon, tumhari ardhangini hoon! Baar baar Malay ka naam mere saamne mat lo! Mujhe achcha nahin lagta! Chandra looks terminally confused, as well he might, but this seminal statement does not seem to really register with him and make him think about the possibilities.

This is deeply dismaying. Just as Mura, faced with Nandini's strong denial that she had ever smoked, immediately thinks of the sleepwalking explanation, so too one would have expected Chandra to think of some mental disturbance, if not the vipareet vyaktitva vyadhi, as the reason for Nandini's behaviour.But he does no such thing.

Instead, by Episode 85, he is back at his puerile game of making Nandini jealous of Helena. 😡To what end is unclear, seeing that Nandini is set to leave Pataliputra in the near future. Nor does he seem to have made any arrangements for Nandini being settled safely somewhere else, and not left to wander around the countryside as she had done the last time. Now that she has all these loaded sandooks, that would in any case be a non -starter!😆

To sum things up as far as Chandra is concerned, I begin to despair of the boy. He is plainly cuckoo. As the poet put it so pithily:

Ishq ne Ghalib nikamma kar diya,

Varna hum bhi aadmi the kaam ke!

This is it for the main analysis. I can practically hear you, having huffed and puffed your way to this point, groaning: What? There is to be MORE? 😆

Yes, there is, as a separate part below, a take on the standout scenes during this last fortnight and what they, collectively, tell us about the Chandra-Nandini relationship. But it is an optional, so cheer up! 😃

I must confess that this is not the post I set out to write. It has become far longer than planned (so what is new?😉), and also different in format. I do not know if you will like it,or if you do, how much, but I hope it has not turned out too badly.

Please also bear with me if I am not able to respond individually to the comments that might be made on this thread. This post has been very hard for me to do, and I am just not up to detailed responses. I am sure you will understand.

Please do not forget to hit the Like button if you think it is warranted.

Chandra Nandini 76-85

Part 2: Love in the time of treachery

For starters, one can no longer talk of a love hate relationship between Chandra and Nandini. That cliche is now long past its sell by date.

Nandini loves Chandra deeply and unreservedly, and she has no hesitation in acknowledging that to herself, though not to him. Chandra too, as he confesses at the end of their long, tense, post-madira scene (for lack of a better term!), Kadachit jis din mujhe gyaat hoga ki mere pas hriday hai, mujhe yeh bhi pata hoga ki us mein tum hi hogi, Nandini.. , now knows what it is that pulls him to her regardless of what all she does to disgrace him. The time for self delusion is over for both.

But then what does this add up to? Not a settled, joyful togetherness. Even if Chandra's old suspicions about Malay had been stilled over time, the entrance of Roopa into the game has queered the pitch disastrously for Nandini, who is still totally unaware of this deadly, shadowy threat. (There was a promo showing Roopa openly taunting Nandini, but that is either far into the future or has fallen by the wayside). Trapped between this visual "evidence" that damns her as a charitraheen stree, and the incredible folly of her promise to Sunanda not to reveal the secret of her "illness" to Chandra or to anyone else, Nandini is damned beyond any hope of redemption. And Chandra is suffering the agony of the damned too, seeing the woman, love for whom holds him in thrall, sink lower and lower, demolishing her reputation and his honour every day.

Yearning for togetherness: But despite all this, there is, in both of them, as Anne put it, a perennial hunger to be with each other, to look at each other, to touch each other, physically or emotionally. This urge seems capable of overcoming even the worst emotional traumas, like the one that left Nandini broken and weeping at the end of Episode 75.

Just look at them the next time the real Nandini meets Chandra in their rooms, the Lep Scene No.1 ! She is as natural as could be, and he in turn sounds like a normal complaining husband, cribbing about the cuts her nails had inflicted on his back, and exclaiming about her flat denials. I loved Nandini's quick-witted repartee to his asserting that he is the Magadhasamrat, Raja to Vali bhi the, par the to vaanar hi na?

The way in which this segment ends is as charming as could be, after Chandra, having tried, with extraordinary clumsiness, to use his right hand to apply the lep on his right shoulder, is summarily displaced by Nandini, who proceeds to complete the job with gentle efficiency, teasing him all the while. The half puzzled, half gratified look on Chandra's face is inimitable.

The real gift: Even more delightful, and revealing, is the next segment, the selection of Chandra's gift for his mother' s birthday. Apart from his effortlessly comic body language, as he strides about the room trying to catch Nandini's attention without seeming to do so, there is the sudden, touching candour of his confession about his being, in effect, unacquainted with his mother. The eagerness with which he asks Nandini Phir se kaho? The sudden hoarsening of his voice with emotion as he calls her over to look at what he has brought out. The reminiscent sorrow and joy of his childhood memories, which are reflected in Nandini's face and eyes, which show total empathy.

The most wonderful bit, however, comes at the very end. Nandini, having overruled his reservations, and having herself arranged all the childhood items in a thali, covers the whole with a velvet cloth, She smooths the cloth with her hands, smiling radiantly, while her head bobs from side to side in delighted satisfaction. Chandra looks at her fixedly, his eyes showing both amazement and subdued happiness at her complete identification with his own feelings. That is the real gift for him!

The insider joke: The vaanar theme, actually invented, inadvertently, by Chandra himself, soon becomes a running insider joke between our Odd Couple, echoed and re-echoed in snippet after snippet. This, accompanied by a companion theme, Chandra's preoccupation with getting Nandini to call him sundar again, must surely be unique in TV historicals, which are usually quite stodgy in their ideas of romance.

The confidential looks exchanged between the two during the performance in court by the monkey are all the more delightful for being a first for them. Whereas the double kumkum scene, with the two fighting for mirror space and both ending up with red noses, is riotously funny.

But the No.1 vaanar moment, so to speak, comes at the end of the mad chase around the room after Chandra mock threatens Nandini with dire consequences if she calls him a vaanar or derides his looks ever again. Both of them are punch drunk with happiness at the prospect of now having more time together thanks to daadi, and this erupts into unrestrained hilarity, with Nandini doubling up with laughter and Chandra following suit.

As Chandra wonders to himself at the way in which her happiness gives him santosh, all unbeknownst to himself, he sums up the very essence of love.

Instinctive absorption: There are other moments when the two are, almost unconsciously, absorbed in each other, despite having just gone thru an emotionally bruising encounter.

This is so after the humiliating snankaksh encounter for Nandini, when she runs back to her room with a bleeding hand only to find Daadi, and the painter - who is the one who looks like a real charwaha ! - waiting for her.

Arrives Chandra, and from the beginning, all thru the posing for the sketch, and beyond, he insists on holding her wounded hand, first behind her back and then up front. Is it to hide the blood from daadi, or is it to comfort Nandini? Or just because he likes holding her hand?

Each resents the ability of the other to hurt her or him -he with Helena, she with Malay - and yet they cannot stop gazing at each other for what seems like ages, and he feels her pain as if it was his own, for theirs is a bond that will not be denied.

It is the same during the unexpected but charming mehendi scene that comes immediately after the painful blowup about the letter inviting Malay to the snankaksh. When Chandra, as instructed by daadi, comes to place the cushion behind Nandini's back, it is not the usual three second affair, but something more like 33 seconds of absorbing each other thru their eyes. And the nayana sanket with which Nandini helps Chandra locate his name on her palm is as delicate and charming as the tiny smile on her lips when he finally makes it!

The most recent, and the most moving of these special moments comes when Nandini is preparing to leave. Chandra is in a blue mood, gazing up at his namesake in silent depression. When she comes up to him with a book that he likes, as a gift, for one instant, he does not react at all. Then, as he turns towards her, he seems to be literally dragging himself back from the gloom in which he had been enveloped. His face reflects that transition as if it was a mirror. That shot is one of Rajat's best.

Nandini too is superb in the simple gentleness with which she insists on his taking the book: Manaa mat karo! She never has any ego when it comes to him, not even in the worst situations.

Later, when he gifts Nandini his favourite doshala (now, Sandhya, Khushi, Lavanya et al, no more cracks about it being a left over from Jodha Akbar! 😉Though I did wonder about how and when she had used it more than he had) , the exchange, of words and looks, between them is almost physically laden with longing and the despair of their impending separation.

The unspoken lines echo and sum up their secret yearnings. He: Na jaane kyon aise lag raha hai ki main ise rokh loon, aur kabhi na jaane doon!...She: Kyon man keh raha hai ki jhoota hi sahi, bas ek baar mujhe rukne ke liye keh do! Main yeh naatak jeevan bhar karne to tayyar hoon Chandra!

It is more than obvious that at just one word , each would have dropped everything and rushed into the other's arms. But that word is not spoken. At least not then. Nonetheless, the gods are listening, for salvation comes after all, in the shape of a podgy old lady faking bad knees!

Best and second best: We now arrive at the two best scenes during this fortnight, which could not be more different one from the other, but which, taken together and separately, sum up the essence of the Chandra-Nandini relationship as it is at present.

One is heavy duty emotional, turbulent, agonized. The other is gentle and warm, full of the subdued joy of mutual understanding. One is nearly 10 minutes of unbroken confrontation. The other is not even 3 minutes, and made up as much of looks that convey volumes as of spoken lines.

The madira scene and the diya scene. Both have the lead pair performing exceptionally well, and Rajat in the former is only a little behind his bravura take in Episode 75. It is tough to choose between them. I will begin with the former.

Remarkable restraint:What struck me the most here is the degree of almost unbelievable restraint displayed by Chandra towards a wife who has disgraced him to the uttermost in front of his whole court. Any other king would have had her locked up immediately in prison, and banished for good the day after. And before getting rid of her, he would have raved and ranted, slapped her and knocked her about. Chandra himself used to manhandle Nandini in the old days, as in the violent scene after the Piplivan attack. But now he cannot bring himself to do anything like that.

One sees the same restraint in Lep Scene No.2, after Daadi and the painter have departed, when he first bandages her hand, and then produces the damning letter, which he reads out to her. The level tone of hs voice and the stillness in his eyes are both deceptive. Towards the end, every line of his face shows his anguish, for he has seen "Nandini" in the snankaksh, and had his nascent hopes cruelly dashed. But he never raises his voice, nor does her even grab her and shake her.

This time, with painful earnestness, he seeks again and again to understand the sudden behavioural swings she displays of late. He cannot understand how the girl, who is so affectionate and caring towards his mother and his family, a girl he had thought of as worthy of his sammaan even when he saw her as his enemy, the one who seemed to be a suljhi hui, nishchal, pyaari, buddhimaan, achchi ladki, could become so charitraheen and run after another man.

Again and again, like a sentence spoken in an echo chamber, his words repeat themselves: Kaun ho tum? Sach ho ya bhram? Nandini ho ya koyi aur? Samasya kya hai tumhari? Samaanya stree ho ya vikshipt? He comes so close to the truth, as Nandini perceives it, with this last sentence that she closes her eyes in pain.

Again and again he demands answers to his questions, his face increasingly drawn and tense under the strain, his eyes alternately hard and almost pleading, seeking an answer, any answer at all, that could put an end to his endless chatpatana, like a swimmer gasping for air.

At this moment, if she had simply said, I love you, and only you, and all the rest is a lie, he would, I feel have believed her, Roopa or no Roopa, and the clue that would lead to the solution of the mystery might have surfaced.

I am reusing a lovely, despairing couplet I had cited the last time, but as I inserted it as an afterthought, well after I put up the post, most of the readers might have missed it. Nothing could fit Chandra better at this moment.

Were my love to swear that she was made of truth,

I would believe her though I knew she lied.

But all that Nandini, put thru an emotional wringer she cannot escape, says, faced with the accusation of yearning for Malayaketu and destroying Chhaya's marriage is Main aise karne ke liye swapna main bhi nahin soch sakti! Which is of a pair with her other standard line Maine yeh nahin kiya!

Chandra does not give up, and the inquisition goes on, but in circles. He wants her to state out loud that she is the creature who danced drunkenly in the open court because of her desire to humiliate the one she hates so much - Kya tumhein tanik bhi anuman hai ki ek samrat aur pati ke swabhimaan ko kitni thes pahunchi hogi? - and offers her all the madira she wants to drink in the privacy of their rooms if only she will come clean. He is working himself up to breaking point when she finally decides to speak.

But what she says, in beautiful, moving lines, does not answer his single question: Kaun ho tum, aur kyon aisa abhadra vyavahaar kar rahi ho? She speaks of her willingless to die for the one she would love, and if need be to kill for him. Of her having a heart that seeks no throne, no rank, nothing material. Which beats only for love, for emotions. A heart very diferent from his, a heart which suffers, which breaks, which weeps. A heart of the kind that he, Chandra, boasts of not possessing.

All of which, though it sounds lovely, brings Chandra, and us, not an inch further.No wonder that, seeing her glancing away, he slips once more into pure jealousy, and furiously accuses her of dreaming of Malay and of despising him, Chandra, as being merely a charwaha's son, unfit for kingship. And asserts that he is glad he has no heart, for this keeps him from the urge to do anuchit karya.

But at the same time, gazing at her face, he also realises that if he did discover his heart , mujhe yeh bhi pata hoga ki usmein tum hi hogi, Nandini! At that moment, there is such concentrated despair in Chandra's eyes that one's heart turns over in empathy.

Not that I expected Nandini to say anything to help him. Searing bitterness drips from his words and his eyes, which abates not a jot even she responds, with an infinitely sad smile that is reflected in hers: Main jaanti hoon, tumhein to gyaat hi nahin hai ki mere hriday mein kya hai!

I was almost yelling at her: You dim-witted female! Just add one more word: Tum! But of course she did no such thing. 😡

Chandra, forced into the last ditch, takes refuge in his standard threat of swift and dire punishment for her next transgression, not just banishment, but poore sansaar se hi nishkasit kar doonga! I said to myself Famous last words!, while Nandini simply responds: Uchit hai!

Unexpectedly, she smiles, and there is a whole world of emotion hidden behind that smile. Chandra's returning smile is as eloquent of unspoken, bitter sadness, and the two part, each to live with, as Nandini remarks, apna apna satya.

Facing with such concentrated folly on Nandini's side, for this time Chandra comes off blameless, one is left looking for a suitable wall to climb, or straws to stick in one's hair. 😡

The glow of love: Literally, this time, as the glow of the diyas is reflected in Nandini's eyes and she gazes, ektak, at Chandra. This is one of the most visually and emotionally beautiful scenes we have seen thus far.

The moment a little earlier, when Nandini, being embraced by Mura, looks across at Chandra and wordlessly thanks him with a nod for having stood up for her and got her out of this mess, is a fitting prelude to the diya scene.

As Nandini senses Chandra's presence on the terrace, her first look at him is subtly welcoming. It lasts so long that she almost burns her finger, and he rushes across to help her. As they gaze at each other, her eyes are bright with feeling, and his are full of unspoken tenderness. As if he was reaching across in his mind and embracing her.

When he expresses his deep gratitude to her for having made it possible for him, after so long, to get the darshan of his father, the sincerity and the earnestness in his voice are touching. But far more significant is that when she explains how she used to decorate the whole palace with diyas for her pitamaharaj's birthdays, and how her gift for him was always the best of all, there is an answering smile of understanding on Chandra's face, for all that Padmanand is his mortal enemy.

As she goes on Pitamaharaj ke chehre par jo prasannata main dekhti thi, wohi prasannata maine aaj maa ke mukh par dekha. Wo bahut hi vishesh kshan tha mere liye - Chandra smiles again, in sync with her mood -- Mujhe aise prateet hua jaise pitamaharaj mere samaksh khade hon, prasanna mudra mein.

It is a measure of how far their relationship has come that he, who used to gloat about the number of pieces into which he would cut up Padmanand's body, is now able to share her nostalgia about her days with her father and, in effect, accept her seeing him today in Mura.

Nandini's eyes look lost for an instant, while Chandra's are warm with sympathy. Then he smiles at her, an open-hearted smile that speaks of a sense of belonging together, and she smiles back and him.

Finis, at last!!!!

Please do not forget to hit the Like button if you think it is warranted.

Originally posted by: shailusri1983

Aunty, thank you for this post. Since the first itself, I felt that this Mukhya Maharani track was not at all bad; and as a matter of fact very good; a similar one to the Takshashila track. But most of my friends were busy exasperating themselves with their sorry adventures with such similar tracks in JA which proved to be perennially disappointing and female glorification tracks. I do believe something good will come out if it just like the Takshashila track.

The palace intrigue and spats between Chandra and Nandini with brief spells of calm are getting repetitive. As regards Dadi, I instinctively felt she wasn't so wrong in excluding Durdhara from the competition. What competition could this show Durdhara have won? Billi rhymes? Who blabbers the most? How to jump and prance around like an energizer bunny? Dadi was actually doing a favor on this show Durdhara by keeping her out of the competition and making a big joke out of herself in front of everyone.

Been suffering from cold and flu since a couple of days. The weather here in Iowa is making it several degrees worse. Though I went back to the episode and watched it again, I was neither able to put forward my points as accurately or argue as consummately as you have done here.

I cut up rough to things which I would have taken pleasantly when in good health in your previous thread. I made myself pretty unpleasant to many of my friends. On top of that my writer's block made everything worse. I came so that I would get new ideas from there, but everyone was busy preparing the coals or a cliffhanger for Dadi. Sorry for my rude and cutting remarks.

Originally posted by: sashashyam

Don't fret about bagatelles, my dear - you were hardly unpleasant - and concentrate on getting well and avoiding a relapse.

Have you really, honestly, already read this Mahabharata?😉

Shyamala Aunty