Blast from the Past Thread #9, pg 105, ep 108 - Page 99

Originally posted by: sohara

so insightful and amazing update Indi.

I loved how you elaborated the entangled light scene from various angles.

all the blue lines are awesome.

my comments are in pink.

Originally posted by: indi52

episode 105

if the man on the left has started looking like the man on the right to you...

and you notice the same thing here...

and here too,

then no what the about it, know now and know well, that along with being addle pated, crack pot sanka jhalli, non stop talker and fried stuff gobbler, you are struck for life. you are in love.

an attraction growing, asserting itself. an emotion that is bursting out of restrictions and wanting to express itself. why was she walkimg past that that wobbling tool so slowly staring up at him, why was he taking forever to fix some wires, his ears fully concentrating on her exchange with anjali. and now, why were they lying entangled with each other on that rangoli for so long, just looking at each other, he took a while before he took over and got the two up on their feet again and gain he kept on holding her hand loking at her, while she just couldn't break that hold of his gaze.

why?

ever since nainital and babuji's sudden paralytic stroke, there's a pressure it seems on the two to acknowledge something. she had asked herself why she'd raced to him in that hospital, needing his shoulder to lean on. she hadn't yet answered that question. but as if to help her along, the writers had written in an untenable scenario. a marry shyam campaign mounted by buaji. this should help her answer some questions, even if the constant thoughts of him and not being able to look away didn't.

on his side, he is finding it difficult not to quicken to her presence, not be around her, not look at her. his heart knows answers his head hasn't asked to hear yet. this need to make everything alright for her. how poignant his promise to the girl of his heart, "everything will be alright," while putting his arms around the girl his head had chosen. yet, it wasn't such a bad head either... this girl will do more for him and his heart than many can ever imagine, even now.

"hello hi bye bye arnav bitwa, lagat hai tum ko koi galat faimi ho gai hai
aree ee holi nahi... diwali manayka seazhun hai." arnv dear, seems you have misunderstood, this is diwali not holi, says mami as she sees him covered in rangoli hues.

galat faimi. misunderstanding. no, this was the most powerful time of understanding, coming to the brink of acting upon it, and going back. because the heart wasn't ready. willing wanting yearning, but not ready. now its sahi faimi mamiya

the misunderstanding would come later.

he can't look away from her. ever since that day in the hospital, ever since that fairy light thing. ever since she asked pata kaise chalta hai, ever since he saw her in a red sari, in the storm with her hair tossed, on a ramp where she was not meant to be... ever since forever... he can't stop looking at her. true Indi this red color and the girl dont leave his mind have occupied a permanant place whether he likes it or not and does not leave him😉

la calls her away. she's teaching la to wear a sari, such a happy smile on her face that her student at last is showing interest. an open happy khushi smile. la is making a mess so she tries it on herself. he is watering his plants.

gust of wind... awareness... he looks up and there she is... wrapping the soft material around her.

an intimate scene, a girl dresses and a man who is losing control watches, the water flows on and overflows... a sign of the extent of his desire maybe. yes she is covered, this is pretend wearing, but still, a thick intimacy. no wonder when she sees him, her heart almost stops then races, her fingers lose grip, the pleats tumble, lose, letting go... like her heart and its feelings perhaps? despite being fully covered the feeling the scene conveys

wind, water, fengshui... the elements were always there taking part in this love story. perhaps an indication that it was meant to scale the three dimensions, merge with a larger reality. not that this was the first time one saw use of the elements to heighten drama or a feeling, but rarely did it seem so perfect and believable. i repeat, sanaya irani and barun sobti made what can easily become corny and laughable seem beautiful, plausible, rather lovely. you wanted to lose your grip on your reality and enter the fantasy with them. lovely description

how barun managed to keep his tycoon shatir image on despite all this wind, water, stars, long deep stares into girl's eyes and lifting her up all the time is beyond me. also no idea how sanaya kept us believing khushi was clean, sweet, innocent, with no guiles, and no thought of trapping this man despite the number of times she was stuck in eyelocks with him or fell into his arms. some calibre both. yes, we did suspend our disbelief and yes we are desperate to believe in love eternal too maybe, an idea more precious than money to many of us. but still. so much fluff, yet the characters intact. deserves applause and thought about acting.

"soch soch ke paagal ho rahe hai... yeh sab uss laad gover... arnavji ki vajah se ho raha hai... na wo hume... aur na hum." i'm going mad thinking, all this is because of that laad gov... arnavji... if he hadn't... if i hadn't...

khushi can't take the heat of this moment anymore and rushes out saying she's unwell, needs medicines. and as she walks aimlessly, the questions come. she speaks to devi maiya, i have always felt this was khsuhi's way of talking to herself, her most inner, clear divine part. the part we all have in us i feel.

delicate delicate words, about the state of heart. from another time in writing, not today's. nowadays we seek simplification of every feeling... dropping off all wondering and complexity. but here it is different, her "na wo hume, aur na hum..." what does it mean really. nothing is clear, yet, we all know what it's all about. slivers and little bits and pieces of every emotion around a larger compelling one, which is usually described in one word. but that word is never said.

"aap yahan?" you here?

he's the auto driver.

"jana kahan hai?" want to go where? gruff rough, typical auto man. yet not. awww.

"aap auto chala rahe hain?" you're driving an auto? her tycoon at the wheel of phatphatiya, all oily and bucolic.

she is beginning to get it. she recalls telling payal just the other night, "humne socha tha jab pyaar hoga toh asman mein taare aur bhi chamakne lagenge, har jagah sirf wahi nazar aayenge..." thought when i fall in love, the stars will shine brighter in the firmament, and everywhere i'll see him only...

"arre ye madam, auto na chalaoon toh kya hero ban jaaonn, " hey madam, not drive auto, then what, become a hero?!! comes the irate reply from the auto guy. the real one, since the one seeing things has run off. the dialogues are brilliant, funny, rofl giving even, yet with layer. she is running from the deduction her mind has finally started to make. thats the beauty of this show

what's happening to me, dm... no nothing is happening... i am fine. this is too much information for this slip of a girl. in love with arnav singh raizada? nooo. yet, how lovely that switch to "arnavji" from "laad governor" at the start of her dialogue with dm.

her arnavji, whom she loves, whom she thinks of the moment her dream man is mentioned, who mustn't go hungry, who has a gussa he can't control, who makes her heart go dhakdhak, who watches her wearing a sari and she can't bring herself to think "ew creep," (imagine if shyam were doing that instead of asr), that arnavji, whom she sees everywhere.

but she can't face that yet.

"namaste, pandeji," to the guard at rm

"what the" says the guard like the auto man, music goes haywire, khoosie bitiya bolts, nooo, this can't be happening.

in side rm, safe she is, but... "shubh deepavali, khushiji." uh oh, it's not op and his cutesy chatter, it's the dhobi, the washerman and he is also that man in her dreams, that arnavji.

a fabulously funny segment... cinema like, have i ever seen this interpretation of love struck before? can't remember but maybe some movie had it. no matter, here done brilliantly, and truly creative because it's intrinsically part of story... this is how khushi realises she is in love. so, not just some self indulgent, for the sake of it humour. also, could khushi's realisation come in a calm wise way? an essential element of khushi had to be part of this momentous realisation. that ajeeb element. and that was here aplenty.

again barun showed us what an actor sits inside this slim, good looking, ex call centre manager, a boy from west delhi with not great marks in school, who has no formal training in acting. i do so want to see this actor in a whole range of different roles. can't decide if i like auto man more or dhobi. think i'll settle for dhobi, oh that dhobi ismiliya. he can give banwari a good run for his gathrie. 👏

she decides to close her eyes and walk so as not to see him. addle pated anyway, utterly addle pated in love.

of course, she bangs into him, who else. and he just holds her... and keeps on holding her... his face is full of concern, bit of a "what the" there, but his hands are holding...

this is the primal attraction that is headed straight toward a pool and an ocean of roiling, tumultuous desire. i hold my breath feeling its onrush.

"humne socha tha jab pyaar hoga tab phool barsne lagenge, aanchal mein sitaare chamakne lagenge..." i'd thought, her words come back, that when i'm in love, flowers would shower, stars would fill my aanchal...

aanchal, difficult to explain in english, the free end of your saree, the ends of your dupatta, all can be considered aanchal. the indian woman has used her aanchal to do many things, wipe away tears, protect her child by covering her/him with it, a sense of shelter in it, of a place to hide from the harshness of the world, very much an extension of the role a woman plays in society, as mother, as elder sister. this is uniquely woman, her ability to shelter with love and her shakti, her strength. all of it somewhere in that aanchal. as i said difficult to explain, clumsy effort. the aanchal is where here love her innate female strength her power in life gets expressed. it is also where she gathers her dreams sometimes.

and so it is that the scene changes in this filmi khushi way... and petals shower. she catches petals and looks at him her heart in her eyes, just enjoying the man, and then he is showering her with sparkling stars, she holds out her aanchal to catch them all if she can... the whole fantasy playing out merrily, unstoppably... khushi must realise today, it's been decided.

when reality returns, khushi is lost. asr is confused, concerned. he'd heard she was unwell. but she can't take his eyes on her any more. she scoots again.

walking back home alone, under the stars, in talk with dm, she acknowledges at last. she'd asked for only one sign from dm to help her understand what she should do about marrying shyam. dm had deluged her with signs, overflow like that watering can of his.

she is muttering..."hum... theek nahin hain... tabhi toh hum shadi nahin karna chahte." i am not okay... all those isharas... that's why i don't want to marry.

love was never mentioned, yet one hadn't seen a girl more in it or aware of it. superb writing, direction, concept.

shyam was waiting at gh, eavesdropping, plying extreme manipulation. jalebis for khushi and lanterns, for he knows of her little rituals with babuji every diwali. khushi's little talk with her father is lovely and touching. her shelter is in danger, the main support in her life. unknown to her a man is getting ready to become just that and more to her. while the pretender shuffles around trying to usurp the place.

she cries alone under the stars, none of her problems have easy solutions. shyam enters with his sick play... khushi smiles at his jalebis, even his lanterns, but when he tries to catch her hands (note in a crocodile like bite), and gives his spiel of how whenever there's andhera, darkness, he will bring roshni, light, to her life, all she remembers is a man sitting one chair away in a cold desperate hospital, putting his hand on her head. a man who doesn't say much, who makes no promises, but in her hour of darkness, he brought light. she snatches her hand away.

one word is too often profaned
for me to profane it,
one feeling to falsely disdain'd
for thee to disdain in.
one hope is too like despair
for prudence to smother,
and pity from thee more dear
than that from another.

this story of nafrat that was mohabbat, of a girl who'd rather take the gussa from one than the "love" from another, this inexplicable play of emotion that points you in the right direction despite what conventional wisdom or the apparent truth might say, it so reminds me of this intense love poem by shelley read in college.

i can give not what men call love
but wilt thou not accept
the worship the heart lifts above
and the heavens reject not
the desire of the moth for the star
the night for the morrow
the devotion to something afar
from the sphere of our sorrow?

that desire of the moth for the star has started in him and is flaming, it will turn to that worship the heart lifts above and the heavens reject not. both will reach out from the sphere of their sorrow and grasp this word and turn it into that devotion.

in a story that was doomed to be forgotten, another lovely girl thinks of light and diyas and meeting a young man who wants to give her the most beautifiul lamp but she will not let him. he thinks of her too as his mother prattles on. akash and payal, a gentle different love story enters its deeper layers. she has started thinking of him too, as he has been from the moment they met.

can khushi lie back and sort out her confusion and enjoy her little secret with herself? no such luck. the moment she entered, buaji had planted the idea of jadoo tona in her head. black magic. sanaka devi's sanak is on the rise, what ails her? could it be that someone has cast a spell? nice writing, will lead us straight to another heart erupting moment by the pool.

now amma is badgering khushi about her decision regarding marriage to shyam. bless shyam and amma, we have khushi going nuts and scurrying to her mountain... jalebi mountain. as she makes it, what a dream.

her fertile imagination comes up with a great one. she is married to her khadoos laad g. married? what a jump... the girl has just figured out she is in love with the boy. now she's much married already? khsuhi ji... uh huh. shadi shuda, and doing all the things that shadi shuda girls do? in less than an hour? now i need to stuff samosas in my mouth.

did he just blow on your face, made you all ahem inside and said you look like a delhi auto? funny funny dialogue guys, and what a tie up with auto... what the. so khushiji's day dreams are not minus heat, all sweetness and flying stars and flowers, huh? how can it be when sir asr is the man in question. so, that day dream much later when she sees him with a pearl string was really so floaty because lady was in mood a la romance, but here, sorry khushi, truth is out, you got the hots.

just look at her state when he's near.

but with shyam, who's so ugh sweet, a calm, in control khushi.

and the final tadka from khushi's inner layer... arnav in jalebi, her man now part of the sweet that is practically part of her, her being... oh the ultimate owning of the man.

in the span of one episode, khushi has recognised him as her man, identified that he is the one that brings light to her life when it's dark, and seen him as her husband, herself his wife. take away the fun and games, and there's a serious passionate emotion here. after her parents' death, khushi has lived among people who have given her extreme love, but somehow she's always felt beholden, grateful, tried always harder to better, more for them. her gratitude is lovely, but her sense of right, "huq" over anyone is fragile. that huq her heart exercises over asr, without permission from her or him. this is possibly the single clear ishara she had sought from her divine mother.

and an ishara to us from dm. hair. cut.

Originally posted by: BarunDiwani

Originally posted by: cinthiann1758

Has anyone read this article or have you heard anything about this?


http://www.desitvbox.com/mrunal-jain-to-replace-farhan-khan-in-chhanchhan/

Originally posted by: indi52

episode 99

"babuji kuch kahna chahte hain... boliye na babuji!" a sweet, tense but determined little voice, babuji wants to say something, say it babji.

"shyam... shyam..." a man struggles to say the words as his face contorts, his muscles give up.

"a native american elder once described his own inner struggles in this manner: inside of me there are two dogs. one of the dogs is mean and evil. the other dog is good. the mean dog fights the good dog all the time. when asked which dog wins, he reflected for a moment and replied, the one i feed the most." ~~~ george bernard shaw ~~~

evil that has been fed and pampered, it has congealed and started pulsating with heinous intent. it draws its sustenance from the basest part of the human construct, far far away from what's divine. shyam feels the throb in his veins when he contemplates wrong and acts upon it, a natural born not good 'un.

in this episode, on the one hand the rise and spread of shyam like a dark, insidious shadow, inexplicably lucky. no one catches him doing what he does. the one man who does is struck down. how could such a thing happen? yet, precisely such things do happen. again and again.and still we hope.

and on the other, the reason we do hope. that equally inexplicable entry of the positive, the blessed. out of nowhere, when you least expect it, though most need it, comes help. an answer. an affirmation of good. and a reminder, if there's evil in the universe, equally and more forcefully, there is the opposite of it. the mean dog, the good dog, they are both in here and out there.

shyam dominated the episode, yet shashiji's desperate love, khushi's valiant fight, and a couple of minutes of a man who seeks the sahi and repents when he is galat, stole the show.

the alacrity and ease with which shyam moves to any and everything considered a sin points to his nature, his true self. how quickly he contemplated adultery when he saw khushi. in just one meeting, a three year marriage became a thing to play with. if he sensed anjali was getting demanding or strong, he'd resort to emotional blackmail or feigned romance without missing a beat, to get his own way. but when he saw babuji's face on that pane and realised his game was up, oh the evil that instantly clouded his eyes and caught his being. he'd do anything to not let the truth out. if threats wouldn't work, why not murder?

the man who knows all the shastras, every kind of law, who spoke chaste hindi, and always showed respect to his elders... had one thing clearly missing. conscience. that's what you feed the good in you with. completely missing in shyam.

that's what, to my eyes, made him truly evil.

the writers of ipk used their craft well and gave us another scenario to contemplate. a man who had no time for shastras and certainly didn't know them, who created an empire and knew and valued money, who spoke a mix of hindi and english minus floweriness of either, and who showed respect where he felt it was due... you could like him, you could hate him, what you couldn't deny though was that this man had a conscience. and it spoke to him clearly.

"kyon mujhe pahli baar aisa laga ki main... ki main shayad kuch galat kar raha hoon... main sahi hoon."why did i feel for the first time that i... i was perhaps doing something wrong... i am right. remember him in the rain? a man concerned with being sahi... right... not galat, wrong. it is in his innate nature.

his mother's value system and evolved upbringing have nurtured it. she has taught him to develop and grow his conscience so that he may tame the wildness within. the wildness we all have to a greater or lesser extent. she's taught him to examine his actions... will you kill the flower for the hurt the thorn gives? life lessons in everday situations.

his father's "galat" leanings and weakness have given it resolve. he will not be like his father... galat. so he evaluates his actions, and does things he believes are right. of course, doesn't mean he is always right. the difference is, he thinks afterward deeply, and if certain he was indeed wrong, he does so repent.

these two men and their strange ties to one woman, khushi, is finally absolutely centre stage today.

shyam, upon being discovered by khushi's primary protector, her father, has struck. in the midst of his threatening when shashi gupta started having a heart attack, shyam threw away the medicines... this in my eyes is tantamount to cold blooded murder. and the state babuji was left in was worse than death in many ways.

now he is leaping and dancing around frame causing destruction and seemingly getting away with it. how horrific his intent pursuit of harming shashi ji; how disgusting his pretend concern, his mocking of a fallen older man, his thick self absorption, his utter inability to empathise with human suffering. to get what he wants he will hurt anybody, even the object of his desire. and he gleefully informs a man who can't get up and give him a punch on the nose that he will marry his daughter, in fact he will get his family to beg him to do that.

how sickeningly deceitful his holding of hand over flame to con a girl under terrible pressure. she thankfully is not moved by this, rather displeased with his attitude to the whole thing and discouraging talk, though she does tie the handkerchief on his palm. please don't say such things, shyam ji, devi maiya will not let anything bad happen, her heart says so.

the girl who understands heart, knows how to listen to it.

her father lies struggling for coherence in the hospital. her mother, aunt, elder sister, all are crumbling. first the shock of heart attack and then the devastating news: it's paralysis. all khushi knows is she is second in command in the gupta household. her captain is down. she must hold the family together. directors establish this quickly, within seconds of her arrival, she is taking over, telling her jii to stay calm, all will be well, clearly, after babuji, she is the support.

a little girl of eight whose whole world had shattered was given home, heart, love, promise, nurture by this man who was no one to her, just her mother's sister's husband. not a rich man, not a young and dashing man, but a man with love and a conscience. her feelings for this man are hard to gauge. she literally will do anything for him. her "babuji..." when the doctor declared his diagnosis spoke only of that love and her need for him in her life.

as everyone leaves the room, khushi stays back to be with her father for a moment. she holds his hand with the most loving care, all of 18 and absolutely determined, "sab... theek ho jaayga, babuji," everything will be alright, father.

a tear slides down from a helpless man's eye. he has confronted evil and the evil for some unknown reason has won. at least for now.

unknown to her aunt, mother, and sister, on the other hand, khushi is coming apart. struggling to stay on top of things. she can handle everything, but not the loss of her parents again. and this is babuji...

at rm, a short telling scene. he came out of his room when he heard his mami's altercation with naniji about the status of people and the place of servants. and to his casually asked what's up, came anjali's reply, "chhotey khushi ji ke babuji ko dil ka daura pada hai," khushi's father has had a heart attack.

he's shocked.when did you drop her home, asks anjali. he didn't. the scene plays back in his head... he had thrown her out of the car and slammed some money into her hand when she'd asked worried and frightened, but how will i get home. his eyes darken in repentance. that anger of his.

"khushi ji, aap bahut himmatwali hain... aap ko to aapka parivar ko sambhalna hai," khushi, you are very courageous, you will have to take care of your family, says anjali to khushi. and suddenly khushi can't be strong any more. beautifully written and directed this young girls's rising angst, worry, struggle to overcome, and need to just let go.

she walks away and finds a quiet seat. body arched, wrapping her helplessness around her, she prays to the one she knows, the one that is always there.

"shakti dena, devi maiya...," a call to her heart's mother. the one who sits there, steady, unmoving, always.

"shakti dena," give me strength.

eyes closed, she seeks an inner calm.

then her lids flutter, just an instant later enters the stream of wind, far then near, swirling...

camera closes in on a girl feeling things, someone...?!?

she turns her head.

and he stands there.

something in his eyes, everything in his eyes.

camera rushes toward him... khushi's heart, her mind rushing up to him?

in the silence, just the silence, and the rustle of wind.

finally, just one word from him... "khushi...," a gentle call, lilting up at the end, as if to say, i had to come, i am here, do you need me?

slowly she gets up as though hypnotised and starts to move toward him in a daze almost.

a swallow, he can see her state and it hurts him, so much pain in those young eyes, sparkling so often with all her irritating nonsense talk, huge smile always on. look at her now.

is a telepathic conversation on?... she senses his concern, his wanting to help her, she begins to rush toward him, suddenly wanting his solidity desperately...

and in a few short steps, she has run right up to him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. snuggling her head deeper against him, like that face of hers on his palm that very morning...

rabba ve... yes, this is a moment blessed. for here is the truth that will triumph over all, especially the darkness spilling all over their lives right now.

i can't do it any more, i don't have himmat, i can't do this any more, lost my father once before, i can't do it again... "humse dubara nahin hoga... nahin hoga humse," she whimpers. he has never seen her so distraught.

"nahin hai himmat hum me... hum poori tarah se toot chuke hain." i don't have the courage, i am broken in every way.

his eyes close as the pain sears him becoming his for that instant.

khushi is broken? no!

his arms come up, but something holds him back

his agony, his dilemma, all evident in his still frame and a balled fist, a cut gleaming fresh red on it. haanh maar daloonga, how dare anyone touch you, yes, i'll kill him. nainital is where she became his own in ways no one can clearly fathom.