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indi52

@indi52

IF-Sizzlerz

+ 6

Posted: 10 years ago

#71

she sat there among the velvet red petals. around her lay a languorous quiet.

he had left, angry and frustrated; furious with her... with the night. with himself. and she'd come down to their room, to the bed bedecked for love where a hundred doubts in the head had taken away everything her heart was sure of. she reached for a petal, such knowledge in its seamless velvet. what does a rose know that makes it so unafraid of death? so eager to live and be beautiful even if for a few short hours? strange thoughts wandered through her. there was a pain rising. deep in the pit of her stomach, searing; it surged through her heart. and she heard again.

"that i love you, dammit!"

in the midst of the mayhem, the breaking of furniture, the kerosene splashed violently, the fire being lit, the hoisting into strong impetuous arms, the crazy spin of pheras, in all the tumult of emotions, their voices rising, in all of that so much had been said, yet now only one thing remained.

words that refused to leave with him; that clung to her thoughts. jo tum mehsoos karti ho... jo main mehsoos karta hoon. her heart beat recorded the words, they hastened, they slowed. a frown gathered on her forehead.

that i love you, dammit!

she heard the words as though he were there, right next to her, storm in his eyes. rituals, customs, traditions, if nothing has any meaning, what has meaning according to you, she'd flared at him, ignited by his anger, wracked by uncertainty, "kis cheez ka koi matlab hai?"

and he'd shot back, on that terrace where love was to have come one night but instead betrayal had usurped the hour. standing there, facing his wife, his patni, he claimed his moment back without knowing he was; he told her the one thing that had meaning. that had matter. that had koi matlab. and that didn't give a damn for any evidence, any witness, any proof of innocence, anything, it just was. and that's all that mattered.

her eyes felt a sudden moistness. she knew how hard it must have been for him to say those words. how hard to just walk away after saying them. she'd seen the gleam in his eyes when he gave her the gift and commanded her to go get changed.

is that any way to treat your "patni," she'd pouted at him, and left. when she saw the beautiful red lehenga glimmering with star like sequins, simple yet sensuous, classic but not usual, her heart had felt a tumble. this was chosen by him, by him for her, it had sung. she felt precious, beautiful. and she felt the touch of his desire. that night in the guest house, his hand on her cheek wandering, meandering still in her subconscious, that feel... yes, something of that touch here, right here.

it was a delicate heady feeling. she hugged it close as she stood before the mirror holding the soft folds of red against her heart for just a little while before beginning to slip into the clothes.

she was surprised, there was no dupatta.

her brow puckered. surely, he knew she couldn't wear such an alluring blouse without her... then she realised. a little smiled peeped out unbidden. he was playing with her.

a thrill in her at the thought. yet at once too, an uncanny fear; descended out of nowhere. what should she do? oh, she was so unsure of all of this. outside, when she peeped hesitantly from behind the wardrobe and he turned, the look in his eyes made her knees buckle. how could a man have so much love in his eyes? was this her rakshas, her laad governor. but the fear had a stronger hold than the melting things in her.

he came to her; in wonder, in gratitude almost it seemed, and led her ever so tenderly by her hand into the room. that's when her eyes fell upon the flowers. virginal white, deep passionate red, fragrance of innocence and knowing mingling in the air, tuberoses and roses across their bed, breathtaking. suhag raat.


he had planned suhag raat. "tum kitni intelligent ho," he'd teased her after asking her to name all the wedding rituals, "peechhe se shuru kartein hain." we'll do them all he'd promised, only we'll do them in reverse order. and he'd meant it!

laad governor kahin ke.

she'd almost started smiling, but then felt the tremors assail her breath again. unknown fear. she remembered the moments as she played with the flowers, just sitting there, waiting. waiting for what though? he's left in extreme anger, and when he did that, it usually meant a long drive in the dark. in seclusion, in his hermetic suv, away from all.

a breeze rustled in the night, ripplingthe water in the pool, lifting and entering the room, rustling the petals.

a night came unasked into the room and took her in its arms. a dark, riven night, shredded by suspicion, accusation, and an unthinkable ultimatum.

tum mujhse shadi karogi. abhi. issi waqt. nahi toh... you will marry me now, or else your sister's wedding will not go ahead. yet again.

there was clear naked hatred in a voice. no mercy in the hands that dragged her up the steps of a temple. no tenderness as they went around her neck and tied a mangalsutra, and dragged a streak of sindoor down the parting of her hair. the winds howled, bells rang raging, the world spun around as dreams died; and yet agni stood witness, alongside god, and the mantras chanted their benevolence, their blessing. there was no stopping the night.

her hand went up and touched her mangalsutra. black beads strung on pure, lustrous, unimpeachable 24 carat gold... sign of marriage. hamesha. she'd asked him that night if he understood the meaning of this necklace, and the streak of vermillion he'd hurled at her with not a word of explanation or love.

why? she asked herself this tonight, why are you wearing this thread of eternal tie? why could you never take it off? why did you wear it that day? do you understand its ...?

some answers come to you even before the question is asked. this one rushed in from somewhere just above the place where breath comes from. she knew why she had agreed to go to that temple that night. and why he had insisted on marriage, though a contract, but marriage, nonetheless. he hadn't asked her to leave the city, or tried to buy her off. he could have done that. especially, since he believed she could stoop that low.

but no.

he had dragged her to him, to him alone. in all the anger, the destruction, the bitterness, the shattering of hope, of trust. he had adhered, not thrown asunder.

and she had let him.

would he have done that if she were another woman. or she have gone along if he were another man? she shuddered at the mere thought. and she felt his touch, his featherlight murmur on the nape of her neck. a shiver in her breath, a tautening across her body. heady scent of flowers.

she picked up a rose petal and felt a strange calm certainty. at last. at last she lifted her gazed and looked at radha in the embrace of her eternal partner, krishna. at last she understood.


when he returned, the room was empty. he'd thought, as usual, moving through the night. he'd managed to see why she was not ready. he couldn't bear to see even a shred of distrust or fear in her eyes. never again. he'd do whatever it takes to make her feel whole, complete, loved, and in the way she wanted. he knew what her dream wedding was, he'd heard her telling her friends that story made of lies of her perfect wedding, it shall be hers, it shall be true.

but where was she?

she remembered how gently, how with tender care and held back yearning, he'd placed that missing dupatta on her head. it felt like he completed the act of marriage at last.

i will not let you go, i will take you to the place that is sacred to you if not me, i will tie you with signs that mean eternity and say it's only for six months, i will not let you go. and because you know my heart, breath, sinew, because i know yours, we will find our way to each other, passing through every travail, every torrent along the way, i'll find you, you'll find me. and every dream of yours will be my duty to fulfill, every desire of yours i'll cherish, and make mine, your respect will be resting place, and i will protect it with all i am, let me place this dupatta on you with this promise, for all that means anything to me at all is

that i love you dammit.

she'd hidden from him the sudden thrill his fingers on her bare earlobe had evoked, when he placed the diaphanous veil on her head. she sighed and closed her eyes.

he ran outside looking for her. and there she lay by the pool, on the chair where so much had happened; mud in her eyes, her dhadkane racing, payal on her shyly extended ankle... she opened her eyes.

he wanted to say so much, yet there he stood. unable to form the words. she walked up to him.

he remembered a girl, scared, on a ramp another night. and then another... when the wind rose tossing up her hair in the crumbling guest house, eternity in those torn moments... there she was by this poolside backing away and his gaze riveted on her trembling lips... and then in that temple tears streaming down her eyes as the bells clanged, the fire raged and he lifted his hand to...

he couldn't bear the pain. he closed his eyes.

she stepped right up to him and gently placed her lips on his.

without volition his arms reached out and went around her. and she held him to her, her arms stretching out, her back arching, pulling him closer. her dearest one, her man, her husband. he held her lips in the sweetest kiss. but then her hand moved and took hold of his, only to guide it gently to her heart. she had no other way of telling him what she wanted to. she was his wife, his patni, and she wanted to be his. that was all.

he lifted her in his arms as he had done so many times before, and brought her to that bed he'd set up with such anticipation; out of all things, a suitcase, packed with a whole suhag raat. the innocence of rajanigandha wrapped around the seduction of the rose. he laid her gently among the flowers once more, and as he made to move away, she drew him down with lissome longing arms. no need to close the door, let the poolside watch, let the wind blow, let's just make love. say nothing, just love me.

but how did you know, asked his dhadkan.
bas, pata chal jaata hai... sometimes, like those luscious, openly sensual petals, you just know, said hers.

iss pyaar mein sahi aur galat ka koi matlab nahin... agar matlab hai toh sirf iss baat ka... ki main tumse hamesha hamesha

a story dedicated to asr and khushi this valentine's day. i have long felt that the suhag raat scene, one of my favourites, was unfair to a true man, a magnificent man in love. and also his woman. it deserved another story. this one maybe? hope you enjoyed. and here's to pyaar, why bother to give it a name. happy v day, and memorable v night.

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indi52

@indi52

IF-Sizzlerz

+ 6

Posted: 10 years ago

#72

from crooner 90... i am. i think. i will. clifftop and many thoughts. my post, plus a response to riti and one to archana.

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

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

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

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

where there is trial and a determination to triumph, there is fire. and should you decide to sieze the fire, you will stride into the heart of fire's abode: passion.

three episodes and the three crooners that delved deep into them flowed perfectly towards the ocean and came together somewhere for me. anjali, you were in perfect sync with the universe (ok sounds ott, but you guys all know what i mean), when you picked on the word "junoon," from sree. it was indeed all about passion last night.

and it stirred deep.

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

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

the chase was breath taking. this was serious, ipk was struck by junoon, that passion you point us toward today, anjali. it would change the dimensions of its medium. in script, screenplay, dialogue, music, editing, direction, and of course, acting.

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

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

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

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

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

fluid, dance like battle with jagged breaks into nasty, street fight. masterfully directed. he must save her, no matter what. can you imagine the same guy let her go so casually from his office to the lower floor that day somewhere last august i think? zoha points this out in a beautiful post in the forum. today finally i forgave arnav singh raizada that extreme callousness of his. a loop closed by shatir creatives?

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

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

arnav ji!

a terrified look.

a flutter of blue dupatta.

he turns.

quiet everywhere, a mournful melody haltingly makes its way through a cascade of beautiful scenes from their life.

she falls into his arms that very first time.

she is falling.

he snatches her out of harm's way and hugs her in the rain.

she accidentally bangs against him, earring caught in his jacket.

he winds the bandage round and round on her ring finger before the temple, it is the sacred hour.

dust in her eyes, gently so gently he rubs it away.

payal by the poolside.

her foot goes over the edge... arnav ji!

he puts the mangalsutra around her neck.

the homa fire blazes.

he is putting the sindoor on her parting.

fire.

rabba vey fades in, looking up above the mortal world with a single call of two words from the heart.

he has put the sindoor.

she falls.

the dupatta again.

khushi!

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

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

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

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

hamesha is an instant when you love.

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

...

hi riti, easy for me to answer that 😃 i personally never thought he needed a redemption track. he was a man with no idea of what mohabbat was. at best he felt it was a thing for flakepots. he made no space in his life for it. then in walked miss teda choti, mojri on feet. every meeting with her did slightly crazy things to him. he resisted the call of mohabbat as true blue asr: being mean and nasty. yet all through he never could bear to see her hurt or in trouble. gradually realisation dawned. then came the crazy misunderstanding. yes, wrong of him to force her into that marriage that night. but all along the transformative power of love is at work, we see its incredible sweetness at times. i would love to see him respond to the demands of his emotions, submit to it, treat her like the queen she is to him. but not weepy sad redemption. more a realisation and the most asr expression of it. dhak dhakdhak dhak gulp gulp.

however should he choose to not be on her side again... we'll chat should that happen hehe.

...

let me gush too, archana. yes, why the heck does she love him? can't be his drop dead gorgeous looks now, can it? i only jest. i love the point you raise, and there never will be any clear answers to that i guess. lau is like that only. beautiful quote in suba's post. i guess creative's give us hints through the beauty and beast tale. she senses the prince in him maybe, even without wanting to? she did see him in that mode the day in the temple when he bought all the pigeons for the little girl. but, no, you don't love people because they are obviously "good," doing the expected "positive" stuff.

you just love, despite everything. if you can clearly complete the sentence "i love you because..." with a wonderful list of rational reasons that can be expressed in words, something would be lost forever, wouldn't it?

humble ramblings, see what you feel.

and here i will say nay to the supremacy of thought. i am human and i can think, that makes me truly human. it lets me take the place on earth i am meant to.

but i am human and i can feel. and i know and touch my feelings. i own my feelings. that takes me closer to the divine, breaking the barriers of this earth.

argh, again ramble ramble. Edited by indi52 - 10 years ago

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indi52

@indi52

IF-Sizzlerz

+ 6

Posted: 10 years ago

#73

10 november 2012... during our desperate attempt to save a show... and we thought we could... i wrote this in honeypriya's thread: from insiders to politics to "rumours". i was replying to omoraboti.

good morning omoraboti,

yeah it was pretty late at night. i couldn't sleep. everything is personal here. i can't remain detached or objective. oh that desire that made him jealous that made him angry. how palpable and worth thrilling to was that. and her, so refreshing so real.

in this sell out, not only did asr begin to dim, kkg lost her personality. never liked the prettified khushi. have long protested the sp-fication of characters. it was easier with khushi, because to start with she wasn't that edgy. but asr? iconoclastic, atheist, taken mother's name giving patriarchy a nice jolt. this character made us question things. he didn't just do what i as a contemporary soul might be nodding my head to, he did things i hadn't perhaps even thought of. there can be several views, but his way of being atheist was interesting. you have to be very very brave to be this brand of atheist, not depend on anything to carve out your life, take all the chances, the consequences, on your own. and yet he didn't disrespect anyone else's theism. the only time he said anything was to her, when she goaded him.

i have over time fallen for this character. and my heart blesses the boy who did all he could to make him breathe. it was not possible for me to sleep while i knew his world was falling apart. dramatic?

i guess i decided what the heck, the day i listened to the feelings in my heart, and started watching a serial. my life has been immensely enriched by this, i have written letters of praise to gul and gautam hegde whenever the chance presented itself here. and i met all of you. i wrote to my heart's content after ages. i experienced the falling away of narrow dimensions. given me too much.

first thing in the morning, my friend whatsapped: just read your barun is quitting tv - we have to meet to discuss. (my barun? sweet, but not true. i like him the way he is: his barun)

my last line to her in my reply: ... either way, he will be one of the most spectacular experiences of an old woman's life.

i'd be very very very surprised if sanaya agreed to carry on with someone else playing asr. i have a feeling she won't; in her own quiet, sanaya like way, she will also do what is right.

i hope this fiasco tells all tv stars that what's happening with them is unfair at a very essential level. and they protest. i read anas rashid bemoan the fact that these days no memorable characters come from tv because the madness for trp impacts everything. oh they might find that also too much straight talk. not welcome in tv world.

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indi52

@indi52

IF-Sizzlerz

+ 6

Posted: 10 years ago

#74

from thread 16 of blast from the past, a conversation.

Originally posted by: ArshiHamesha

maafi Horizon and Indi for putting my nose yet couldn't resist...

Indi that in blue...and Horizon in that red...totally agreed with you.How can a mother who was at that higher caliber and gave such nice directions of life has no direction for herself...can't digest it and never did.
There was a story of Sheesh Mahal,Chachaji,and even runway too but not the way they showed us...doesn't make sense...

Black underlined...as my sis was visiting me ,you all know...she mentioned me a serial...name is not coming in my head yet she opened lappy and showed me...Hero is a gunda of college and forcefully making family to marry their girl with him and he did...I asked the same question to me sister...what are you watching...She has a strange answer for me...so there are some sick who likes that stupid stuff ...but why do we have changed the PICTURE of our heroes...no clue...except it sells and money speaks...

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indi52

@indi52

IF-Sizzlerz

+ 6

Posted: 10 years ago

#75

from thread 22, page 91 of blast from the past...

asr talk on.

have i ever felt and fallen for a character more.

indeed a thesis can be written on him. especially given the unreal men populating our other serials.

no human being can be 100 percent perfect or all you want them to be. if we are to be honest that is. within us lie our flaws and our beauties.

i was blown away by what was beautiful in him, till his flaws did not matter.

passion, conscience, innocence, courage, boldness, extreme intelligence/quick wittedness, endearing straightforwardness, generosity, gratitude, belief in himself they were all defining characteristics.

it is not easy not to believe in god, stars, whatever, and make yourself solely responsible for your life.

sometimes it is downright scary.

easier to believe if you trust someone outside of yourself, if you pray and give prashad, if you put your faith in the eternal in some way obvious or evolved, things will happen the right way, the bad things will be allayed and good things come as blessings.

asr did not take that path... the terrible letting down by life triggered in him an aggressive defense position. he put up a hard, impregnable barrier all around and got ready to take it all on himself. and he did everything he could by it. worked like a maniac, shouldered the responsibility of his entire family, hardly gave himself any time for fun and games.

he did almost everything for others, especially for the sister he loved more than himself in many ways.

to me this is a man praying his way.

and he was a survivor. with the scars of one.

those who loved him, his family, and maybe op (😳) and aman, knew exactly what a lovely man he was. yes he was stubborn and prone to crazy gussa, but inside him a pure beauty, an absolute giving caring person. oh i can quite quite understand why la felt that funny love for him and was willing to eat even stuff that gave her allergy just to make him happy, she was not just excited about his money and position... she was excited by his fearless, towering personality, and she sensed his tenderness, the combination has me passing out as i even think of it.

and what i loved hugely was that khushi fell in love with this man... who was not exactly the man she had imagined she'd love. but this one, with all his strange weird awful ways. there is an inherent excitement in this man, which almost anyone would feel, even those who disapprove of his ways. rakshas and laad governor is the one whom she got tired of hating and felt stirrings of a passion for that would not be abated, not even when he raved and ranted, not even when he forced her to do terrible stuff and constantly berated her. not even when he accused her of being a home breaker, a woman having an affair with his creepy bro in law. not. even. then.

all she wanted to do was prove to him that was not the case. she could tell how hurt he felt because of that misunderstanding... she needed to assuage his pain because he had become important to her, part of her...

that is the force of this character.

one of the most touching and telling things was his relationship with mami. the lady who gave her jewellery for his business, who loved him like her own and respected him. the crass woman whom the established raizada khandan might have found hard to accept. he felt her love, he somewhere understood her. completely. her need for power. her need for love. her essentially caring nature. he loved her dammit. uff that scene where without a word he buys the necklace she wants and sends it through di... he can't bear to see mami upset or feeling like she is not respected. whatever she might be, she is his aunt who loves him, he has a funny love for her too. lovely.

just like his nani is he in this astute understanding of character. in 211, he handles mami's hysteria, tells her to go relax... when she mumbles, "tumre liye," a curt really cute, "haan! mere liye," he knows she needs an out and gives it to her.

i have often wondered how this astute, perceptive man made such a mistake when it came to khushi on the terrace. was that trigger enough, did the story tellers choose their reason for his blinding rage well?

othello came to mind. the word "credulous" from eng lit classes. yes credulous, the opposite of astute/smart/thinking he became suddenly only for two reasons: because he loved her madly and because he was so insecure about loving, almost believing betrayal was around the corner.

his father's philandering and his belief that his mother killed herself because of that, undid many things in him, leaving a damaged part that had never been healed. he did not want to love. he did not trust love. and yet he did love. and then, suddenly like a self fulfilling prophecy his worst nightmare seemed to come true... there stood betrayal... the one he loved in another's arms... and while he watched, she exhorted this man to leave his sister.

when he saw her with shyam, chhap gaya hai dimaag mein... the mind stopped functioning, the heart broke, he went crazy.

gussa was his gear, his weapon always, this time he wore it like an armour, covered everything with it, body, head, eyes, lips, ears, and acted with full asr might.

only his heart, kambakht refused to be covered.

now this nuance, anyone might have written in, gul, gautam, whoever, but could anyone other than barun communicated it it with such poignancy, such presence? i know my answer 😳, asr ultimately was given life by barun... not the writers.

yes, they presented an interesting framework... but we must remember, the character had hardly any dialogues that revealed him. that job... to present the complexity, to feel the taciturn character and express him as he is, that was left to the actor finally.

i can't imagine forgiving anyone else that dragging to the temple, that laying down of ultimatums. and here, not only did i not want to hold khushi's hand and take her away from him and tell her "no need to love that brute," i wanted her to be near him... because i could sense he needed her desperately at that moment. i also felt bad for asr, really bad... not only for kkg. that was really the actor's doing.

i also believe barun made asr much more complex, nuanced, and unutterably sexy by playing him the way he did, he made asr more than what was written. okay, barun is naturally an attractive man who has that turn on factor... i am glad he used it to the hilt to make asr lovely. saw 347 where he proposes... will you marry me, a silly hackneyed line, how he used barun's sexiness and asr's keen mind to make it heartstoppingly real.

in plays and books, characters are told by their words and action. here there was action and silence, just things in the eyes, the jaws, the turn of head, a little smirk, a little darkening of chocolate... what the, dammit, bas, khushi, tum theek ho? seatbelt, get out, toh tum khush ho? became memorable quotes, say them and dhak dhak sure to unleash. because i love you dammit. can that ever be said without feeling ears flame, pulse race, a picture of angry eyes and voice flashing in the head.

years ago salim javed assessed the mind of the audience and wrote the angry young man... but if amitabh b had not brought that man to life and made him more with his interpretation, his intensity, his voice, his droopy piercing unblinking eyes, his tall unyielding presence, his way of speaking, his way of pausing, and so much more, would that angry young man become the concept he became? an actor's contribution in creating a character that is performed is invaluable, crucial. not everything is written in, the actor fills in the gaps and makes the character what it is. shakespeare's othello is beautifully written... but it is not enough to be a big dark man and mouth the lines to get the man.

on that terrace doorway, his heart broke to smithereens. he resorted to aggressive defence. sab kuch mere control mein hai. and again he learned... uh huh, everything is not in your control, especially your heart.

there was a destructive anger, an insecurity and vulnerability about loved ones that played hell into his and her lives, a certain "cut off" from the world around that interfered with empathy... and an extreme stroke of that belief in himself thing combined with a sense terrible chaos ignited the day of his parents' death... he believed everything was in his control.

life would of course go out of its way to show him otherwise.

and yet, he did not succumb, instead intelligently assessed and learned and tried to grow within that experience.

within him is the inherent mark of a larger than life, striding, extraordinary character. he reminds me of great individualistic heroes. i accept him as he is, with his every flaw.

that anger i would love to know more about, and if he could learn to control that a bit i'd be happy for him. but don't control it too much, i'd say, then it would come out in some other ugly way... i hope love will heal him somewhat, and there will come a day when he would have his nightmare less frequently. i am quite happy to hear him talk the way he did on karwa chauth and then try and respect his wife's point of view but not become her clone. i have a feeling his wife likes him exactly as he is. the way he likes her as she is.

there will be fights between them no doubt, parts of him will remain unresolved... but he will add texture i know, and who knows exactly as she'd predicted, maybe one day he'll come home with two young women on his arms and tell kkgsr, get out, you're too old for me. ha ha just kidding.

he would grow old fabulously, remaining sexy beyond belief at even 95 i believe.

i thought i would write two lines on that man of few words. look what he made me do. yeh asr bhi na... i hate you, dammit.

Edited by indi52 - 9 years ago

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indi52

@indi52

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+ 6

Posted: 10 years ago

#76

crooner 1.42: on khushi's submission... my pov changed a bit later and i could not be as patient with her rejection of asr on suhag raat, not the way it was shown.

hey sam,

beautiful post. like you, i have wanted them to get past this sex barrier ever since she leapt out of bed and said they weren't married. i believed they were, they are. but even more importantly, true love cannot be explored without a real exploration and acknowledgement of desire. asr was ready to go there, not because sex is important to him, because his love is everything to him.

she was not ready. her mind screamed social rules of conduct, i don't blame her, she believed in certain things, and however harsh it was on asr that night, she couldn't do anything else. her life had been difficult, she found solidity and meaning in binding herself to tradition, she saw real value in them, she wasn't out to make her own destiny, she was willing to let dm guide her in her journey. the right way was important.

but i had faith in khushi, because of so many things. she could always look deeper and see into the heart of things. so i waited and kept talking about it. every time i thought she'd say you are my pati to me and i don't need rituals, she didn't. but couldn't help feeling, her creators will not let her down, they will take her to that deeper plane. let her trust this man's endless love, let her trust her own instincts.

last night she said everything, in her way, not mine, that was also important. it was an incredible growth moment for this lovely girl i felt. it came on the back of all sorts of things that made her feel that bharosa. she needed that. that's all she needed right through: bharosa in his love, in him, in their feelings for each other. and last night she felt it in her undeniably.

we all come to such moments in our lives. some of us shy away from it and go with convention. some take the road less travelled.

i know you loved barfi. i didn't, because the craft and depth were lacking for me. but there is a lot of truth in that seemingly cliched theme: the well brought up girl couldn't take the step that promised the stars, she settled for convention, for earth; the boy and girl who couldn't think so "straight," outcasts of society as it were, could however submit to a feeling, a true feeling. the stars came down to them.

the "good" girl had the depth to know her folly was in following other people's thinking, rules.

submission to love. it's a beautiful powerful moment in life. it's not about sex, really.

ah, our wondrous self righteous girls on the forum. so how many of them will not have sex before marriage? and how many will admit they wanted that bad sex thingie as much as men? ha ha, khushi must live out all our needs of being "good." and asr, by virtue of the fact that he is a man, must naturally be bad. good, bad, when will we see life beyond that? and feel its beauty, its truth.

does any other serial, story, or performer get so close to that?

sorry, rambled. had to. if you read, dhanyavaad.

Edited by indi52 - 9 years ago

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indi52

@indi52

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Posted: 10 years ago

#77

from blast thread 15 extension on friendship day

durga, that was lovely...

no idea today was friendship day, thanks for those wonderful words. you know, i can't imagine life without friends. and i've found that the good ones you never lose. here in singapore i found the girl who used to sit next to me in school in class 5 back in calcutta and we used to get up to all sorts of madness together. we hadn't met for 38 years, but from the moment i heard her ask, are you indrani, and turned to say yes, we started vibing as though the years had never been there separating us.

for my kid that's what i wish, a few good friends all her life. when she speaks of one of her dearest friends in slightly khushi ott vein, "maa, i muuust do this for her, i have known her aaalll her life and my life, she's my bff, i can't immmagine life without her..." while i tell her to cut the drama quotient, i am secretly thrilled she has this someone else that she feels so close to and goes slightly crazy about.

many people assure me i hang out here because it's a mid life crisis of sorts, that you guys are not really there, that this online thing is all nonsense, only people who don't have a life get into it... i don't mind, you'll never know till you've done something yourself. i also had many notions, but over this year and a some months, apart from shamelessly giving in to my love for rambling and a certain boy, i have found a fairly precious and not too easy to find thing here. friends.

here's to all of you.

adding here this song that was all about young love and innocent yet sexy romance in 1973, hum tum ek kamre band ho from bobby, it was a refreshing film, even now it feels like that. wonder what khushi ji would say to arnav ji if they went to see bobby together. "chhee, shadi se pehle, kamre mein..." haw, before marriage in a room... and maybe his eyes would gleam dangerously, and she would subside into a dhak dhak session in her seat, while he grabbed her hand and gave her a quick peck on the lips, right there in the hall...

katelyn, cynthia... "kamre mein band ho" means locked in a room... what if you and i were locked in a room and the key got lost... the teenagers go through a series of cute but ott what if scenarios and in all of them bobby, the girl, is ready to do anything for their love... she'll even tell the tiger to eat her instead of raj, her young bf... please note, she whips off her wraparound skirt (very '70s and that long "muffler" of raj's an abs style statement our days 😆) before pleading with the carnivore... a touch of ott kkg right through.

[YOUTUBE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8w3puLkLWco[/YOUTUBE]

credit: uploader

https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/89310409

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indi52

@indi52

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Posted: 10 years ago

#78

from crooner 1.10: egos thy name is desire... on the episode when khushi storms into asr's office and asks for money.

friday's episode was one of the most beautifully and carefully crafted, layered, funny, loving, rich, and more episodes i have ever seen anywhere. every shot, every word, every colour seemed to say something.

and no one in this whole universe has ever said a "hi" quite like that. that one was only about pure flirtation and absolutely disarming the opponent. despite all her chilli red sharpness, and her standing firm at his advance (grasping something solid in her backhand ramanchi, to use a word differently), madam raizada knew the man with the silvery "hi," would be ha... ha... hard to resist.

oh what delightful scenes and fab dialogues. the set up, the countdown ending on the tinkling of anklets as she walks in, the happy singh and kirana store, he has all the time for her but aaaw (barun sobti copyrighted) she has only 24 hours, she has every right to demand that money from him though she is his wife, i could go on forever about all of those 20 odd minutes.

yet when i saw the profile shots, deadly as a certain one is, and heard the words about ego and ghamand, i thought, oh, that treatment is a first, why suddenly? and they speak of khushi's ego. great, time someone held up a mirror to her and who better than the egotist himself who loves her ghamand and all. however, when i saw priya's title on egos and desires, i couldn't stop myself anymore.

the creatives were telling a parallel story right through the episode. of course the overt narrative was about arnav and khushi and all his tricks to make her his own forever, and it was stunning and utterly valid in itself.

but humongous hints about the past were being deliberately dropped and the episodes of the week felt so bedecked and meticulously set because of that.

there were mysterious blank phonecalls and talk of boyfriends.

there was mamiji's plea to akash not to go close to the sea, it's dangerous.

there was that fantastical story spun by khushi for the doctor, the reference to an unmarried daughter, the married son, the estrangement from sad mother, the soshan. there were buaji's and mamiji's snores and reference to dukh bhari dastaan (maybe the snores were just for fun or they were to say sleeping things will make a lot of noise, me gone cuckoo as you can tell).

and now, ego being discussed on a face off between a man and a woman, a phone call speaking of one night away, a pickle jar clutched in a mother's hand who suddenly talks very coyly of knowing why he keeps coming back (garimaji has never spoken like that before, even buaji couldn't take it), khushi must "entertain" him, ar's stock prices plummet due to the owner's stupidity, mausam is not suhana for there's tyranny in the air, a husband's ill treatment of his wife has gone beyond endurance and there's about to be a murder, dance ending in a fall. then the pointed reference to numbers, 13 days, 12 days, 24 hours, 12.05am, 11.55pm, 9.50am (when the hands are on 9 and 10), 3... 2... 1, rs 24,000. so many references to time, then money. and why are both canteen man and landlord called shuklaji?

i am miserable at decoding, but surely that was badaa laad governor's life, times, misdemeanours, his "ego and desires" being referred to everywhere. naniji's damadji, the one she fears chhote is like. there was something surreal throughout the episode, as if another reality kept encroaching. the signs are here, the past is comes swiftly at us, the season is ready to change.
need priya to really decipher this whole thing.

😉

the final clue of her dream, her mother's payal, returned. the dream analysis, where each object would take us a step further into the tale of arnav and khushi, was completing its course.

naturally, it reminded me of diwali. when the overwhelming desire was too much for him, he had to quash it instantly with cruelty. a man who had never allowed himself to love couldn't bear the intensity, the undeniability of its early stirrings. don't think a rich man was sitting clutching your payal to his heart. she was curious to know what that desire they both felt was, an innocent in the world of physical yearning, even emotional man woman love. at his rejection, she was crushed. koi matlab nahi tha?

ego and desire had clashed. that time his ego wouldn't yeild. now hers refuses to break. he said, i'm sorry for hurting you khushi. he certainly meant all the hurt, each bit of it.

what struck me most, however, was my reaction to "they're beautiful." i almost bawled. something in that scene was more than just wrapping up diwali, it was not at all about the kiss. how poignantly she'd uttered, "hamesha" to his question, does she wear her mother's payal all the time.

i felt his "they're beautiful," in an instant touched her mother's love, her payals a constant physical reminder of it, and completed a circle of love around khushi, touching both heaven and earth. for me, that moment was the best and brightest of all.

thought: do you think khushi helped arnav reach in and find all that he had of his mother in him and express it? when we met him first, he was comfortable dealing with the world and life using more of what he had of his father in him. the finest qualities of his mother are no doubt his, including the ability to love to a point where he is prepared to go all the way and beyond; there is gentleness, tenderness, patience, and other traits that somehow you'd never dream of connecting with asr. are these inherited from his mother? did that trauma all those years ago make him draw a protective shell over them, leaving only the brusque, ruthless, arrogant side open to public gaze, perhaps even to himself? then along came khushi. funny, spunky, loving, kind, determined, spirited, and touched a chord.

and try as he might he couldn't hold on to his khadoos self which gave him a sense of safety. he had to flow. tumne mere saath yeh kya kar diya, khushi?

when he gives her his mother's kangan and letter, hopefully under the stars their witnesses, again a circle of love will be completed. anjali, chatting with you about his mother's mementoes brought me to this thought, thanks so much.

❤️

biwi nahin toh tv...

i had never thought i'd see this kind of funky comedy in a love story before, rarely seen this offbeat fun on our television as such. good creatives know any design, every bit of creation must serve a purpose. ipk creatives are rarely self indulgent or wasteful. and humour became the medium of both incredible romance and intriguing peek into yesteryears (or so i thought, if it was only about the romance, also ok with me).

sanaya irani is a comedienne with wonderful instinct. yesterday she reminded me of tina fey. the spin, the intelligence, the timing, perfect. and then some emotion. standing 👏.

arnav singh raizada has found and practiced a whole arsenal of new smiles and voice modulations. khushi kumari gupta singh raizada will no doubt succumb. guaranteed also several women of the subcontinent will cease to breathe for hamesha. and this is even before mr sobti the hotness (thanks suvi) removes his shirt.

sorry, went on a bit, really wanted to share all this with you. i am completely in love with his intentions and her consternation. counting down the days, waiting to eat laddoo with lots ghee shakkar.
Edited by indi52 - 10 years ago

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indi52

@indi52

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Posted: 10 years ago

#79

from crooner 1.13 - matlab ki baatein, on my favourite 1 august fight

still looking into eyes that are trying not to show the hurt.

matlab ki baatein. funny how things come back, archu, lovely title. beautifully written post. but nothing is sticking in my head today. all i see are those eyes. even the cleverness at the end doesn't have any matlab, it's only survival. forgive me, if i go off track today. that was an outstanding piece of work from all at ipk.

update

spectacular cracking of the shell.

khushi yeh sab hone dogi tum?

you, who hold the dor of my life in your hands, you will let this happen? his ego shatters itself to reach out to her. his eyes lay bare his feelings. naked, defenceless, exposed.

ha-mari shadi yoohin khatam hone dogi?

a stutter in arnav singh raizada at even the thought of this unthinkable thing. to consider it would be to die.

itta easy hai tumhare liye?

even his language is losening as his heart breaks, itta, not itna, how can it be so easy for you? how? when it's so hard for me?

he has tried everything. he's done things for her he's never done for anyone before. he has tried to win her back her way. then the audacious move of persuading her the absolute asr way. provoke, threaten, do what you have to do, but get her back. he's even tried to make her accept her own desires, goaded her to claim her huq over him. you have a right to ask for something for yourself, you have a right over me.

patni ho tum meri. he has reminded her again and again. come claim me, make me yours. as you are mine, as i am here to claim you. i need you don't you see that? of course, you do. i don't need anything else, khushi.

aap aisa kyon hain?

tum jaanti ho ki main aisa kyon hoon.

echoes from another day: i don't know why i do the things i do... par main aisa hi hoon, khushi. by mistake, a confession to lavanya, how flawed is our angel.

i know what i have to do and this time it will work my way, he'd thought the night he realised the meaning of 13 days. for three days he'd pursued his goal relentlessly. looked like it was going somewhere. he was happy to see her reaction, she was coming out of her shell, losing her cool, unconsciously treating him like the husband he so wants to be. abusing, threatening back, even showing signs of buying into his philosophy.

he didn't want her to change or be someone else, just be strong enough to say to him i want you and i can't leave you. he needs that, today he needs that for survival. the man has only had his anger, his ego to protect him, today he instinctively seeks to heal himself with love.

the day had started on a confident note full of hope for him. he teased her, he cajoled, he turned off the electricity and water trying to blackmail her into coming home. she wouldn't want her folks inconvenienced.

ziddi jo ho, par apne zid ke chakkar me apne amma bauji ko kyon trouble kar rahi ho. mere saath ghar aa jao, that's all you have to do.

that's all. that's everything for him. but she isn't ready. her hurt doesn't let her do as you want, as she so desperately wants, but something is not right, she can't... just can't. the tussle over water. the touch on her pulse beat on the neck. yearning fingers linger. he's drowning in her. from a conversation across space echoes: aap sun sakte hain hamari dil ki dhadkan? haan, hamesha.

she's drowning too... no drawing away.

aap aisa kyon kar rahen hain?

you already know ki mein ausa kyon kar raha hoon.

... wapas aa jao mere paas.

but she won't relent, as hope fades, familiar anger surges back. yet she stops him and changes her mind. he can't believe it, say it again? at her confirmation, a return to asr-ness. only he knows how difficult all this has been for him. and in his relief, again a glimpse of his arrogance. i am always right. and that's all it takes for her to swing back: she's not going to him before the end of the contract, she avers in a beautiful sequence, even as he vows to bring her back before the end of that fateful contract.

did anyone ever think he wouldn't pay for his hasty decision that night, his wronging of her, his sin, if you will? he would pay with a currency far precious than money. he would pay with his love. he would pay till he was stripped of all he needs to survive, till that nakedness in his eyes, and maybe even beyond that.

when he comes to pick her up and she pretends she isn't there, he knows she is. when he sees her bandaged foot, he's worried, concerned, forgots his ire. when he sees she's lying, oh those averted eyes, he just can't take it. he hurts himself to prove a point. doesn't she see how much she loves him? he picks her up in his arms as she hobbles. she struggles, what are you doing?

tumhe ghar lekar jaa raha hoon! abhi uthakar lekar jaa raha hoon. agar zaroorat padi toh kheechkar bhi leke jaa sakta hoon. natak khatam ho gaya tumhara?

he will do anything anything to take her home. she won't give in. can't take the bandages off for a few more days...

problem sirf dus din ki hai. hai na?

pause, cut out sound, cut out breath. she realises he knows. look away. you can't bear to see the pain in him.

khushi, you can't lie to me.

yeh sab tum contract ki vajah se kar rahi ho na?

two onscreen, one before screen finding it hard to inhale.

baki dus din yahan rehna chahti ho taki tumhe humari shadi se azadi-

he can't bring himself to complete that last line. mein tumhare bina-, faraq padta hai kyonki-. incomplete sentences tell beginning to end stories sometimes. but who's listening.

kaisi shadi? humne jo kiya woh shadi nahin dhoka tha, ek sauda tha. ... ab dus din mein sharte khatam, sauda khatam, aur baki sab bhi...

khatam, he who can't complete his own sentences, completes hers for she may not be able to. or he fears, she will.

finish. his eyes say it would certainly finish him.

ab hamara in sab baton se koi matlab nahin hai.

koi matlab nahi hai?

while we all know how much he'd hurt her with precisely those words on a lamp lit dark night, i knew he didn't have her strength, maybe she does maybe i just think she does, but i knew he didn't have that strength, so i prayed for his anger to return. only that could keep him together now. mercifully, it did.

she said, as hurt as he was, as helpless.

...aap sab kuch jante hain.

issliye hum yeh sab bare mein kich na kahe, yeh hi accha hai.

ok, sure. he replied and his teeth gritted. i relaxed.

the path of love is never easy. it burns all those who dare to walk it. no one is spared. in fact, if it doesn't scorch your very insides, know it has not found you worthy, your love isn't all that love can be.

mere saath. mere paas. how many times he said those words today. tum ho saath mere, paas mere ho tum yoon. i need nothing else, khushi. he has been showing her just that for so many days, but us mere mortals, the furies won't let us escape a single mistake we've made. till we've paid for it.

...

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

shelley from my college days.

arnav singh raizada can't give what ordinary men call love, but then khushi kumari gupta is no ordinary girl. he will pick her up this morning he said. i'll wait to see what happens.

some more thoughts.

i have never ever seen an actor of this calibre i am beginning to think. and i speak of barun sobti of course. i literally had trouble exhaling at times.

sanaya irani was equally powerful in her role today, but the script was practically written for him, i felt. that koi matlab nahin, the khatam, the dropping of all his defences. unbelievable.

himmat, sach, jhoot kept coming at us today.

i got a feeling in those i'll throw your family out on the streets, there were again hints of the past coming up.

anjali wore another lovely sari and misunderstood him once more. he never said buaji was unwell.

Edited by indi52 - 10 years ago