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Today, the CVs showed us what red chillies, or the common man, meant to Thakursa in his greater cause and what one such common chilli did when it burst into flames.
Thakursa strolling, as if inspecting his latest shipment of guns, between beds of red chillies drying in the sun, sheets of sharp red powder and rows of unmoving mortars and pestles, decided to ask Paro a question.
Did Paro baisa know why red chillies were ground? No? He flicked the solitary flaming pod between his fingers to the ground. To control them. Red chillies were very stubborn. If they were not kept under control, they burned the tongue. That's why they were first uprooted from the soil, then dried, then placed under the pestle to be crushed, ground and powdered. Tragic, but necessary. It was not about enmity, just necessity.
Why, Paro wondered, was he telling her this. Why weren't they heading home to her waiting Mamisa and Thakurain Masa. Thakursa answered both those questions. She was not to know that in doing so she and Thakursa were laying out a template for the next few minutes. She would question and he would answer all her questions, completely, comprehensively, leaving no room for doubt.
But first Thakursa had a question of his own that she must answer: had she signed any papers? Confessed to the BSD? Talked?
And while Paro denied, re-asserted her faith in Thakursa, lamented the mental torture she had borne over the last eight weeks, and thanked Bholenath for sending her a saviour, Thakursa pulled out his pistol, loaded the cartridge and lined it up. And then he cocked the gun. And Paro, who over the past eight weeks had come to recognise what that sound meant, froze and turned to once more stare down the barrel of a gun.
It didn't make sense. Why would the man she revered, who was like a father to her, want to kill her. She pleaded for an explanation. Was she really so dense that she could not understand? It was necessary to kill her now that the BSD had got his men and the cash from the guns. A dead Paro would make an excellent diversion, and would buy Thakursa the time to get away safely.
And so Paro learned about Thakursa's gunrunning. Traitor! She accused him, Rudra's words ringing in her ears. Thakursa flew into a rage and pushed her down. Not traitor, he barked. Defender of the village and traditions; protector of a royal heritage. And what about the people of the village? People like Mamisa and Nandu Jija? Sacrifice, Thakursa dismissed, good humour restored. Collateral damage for a cause. He urged Paro to get up and take her leave of this world with her head held high.
Paro must now give her life for a great cause. How was this a great cause? Paro was incredulous. And was hauled up unceremoniously for her temerity. She'd better listen carefully. Yes he procured guns from across the border and distributed them all over the country to promote terror.
And Paro, eyes large with shock, asked the question that pounded in her heart: had her wedding been a charade? It was for an objective, he prevaricated. And Paro's control snapped, her voice rising. "I asked you, was my wedding a lie?" His answer shattered her. "And my husband?" She had to know. "Baisa if the wedding was fake, then the baraat was fake. And if the baraat was fake then the groom will also be fake, won't he?" He yelled exasperated.
The groom, Thakursa explained reasonably, was the man in charge of delivering the guns to him and carrying the cash back across the border. He'd never intended to marry Paro, Thakursa continued, not registering Paro's horror. "And I?" Paro's eyes were dark with the death of her dream, of a treasured memory, of a fleeting love. Thakursa looked away for a blink then back at her. Paro was to have been sold off. Like some of the other girls over the last seventeen years.
Everything Rudra had told her had been true, Paro realised. "And what about Nandu jija who was married last year?" Paro was frantic. Yes, Thakursa confirmed with compressed lips, she too had been sold off.
And so it dawned on Paro that she and all the villagers were like dried red chillies to Thakursa. Meant to be crushed and kept under control. Thakursa was appreciative of her quick intellect. Yes indeed he wanted to crush the villagers' power to think, to comprehend, to oppose, so that they would be quiescent and malleable and let Thakursa make decisions for them, even if it meant spilling their blood.
And Thakursa had mourned all the blood spilled. Lit a lamp for Paro's parents too when they were killed. And yes those were Thakursa's own men in BSD uniforms who'd pulled the trigger, he graciously admitted to a near-hysterical Paro. He'd had enough of questions. Bindi was the one who was notorious for asking questions, but even she'd never asked him so many before he'd killed her on the night of Paro's wedding. No not kill, sacrifice, he corrected, yet again. Paro had had enough. Her memories shredded, her illusions shattered, her life a mound of ashes. She covered her ears against the devastation he was spewing. She couldn't take any more.
And she had no need to, the devil agreed. And raised the gun to put an end to all her suffering. Fear obliterated by the force of her fury, Paro slapped the gun aside and shoved Thakursa as she dived for cover behind sacks of red chilli powder. And took courage from Rudra's rudraksh. So that when the devil strode up to her to ask her to stop running - she needn't worry he'd make it painless for her - she told him he couldn't kill her. Bholenath was with her; Rudra was with her. And with that kind of support even crushed red chillies could amount to something. Especially when those crushed red chillies were flung into the eyes of a killer.
Today's was a key episode and the critical turning point both in the plot and in Paro's own journey of self-realisation. The CVs gave us a much more somber episode as the scales fell from Paro's eyes and she learned that her childhood understanding was based on a lie. That Rudra had been telling the truth all along. And that Thakursa, and not the BSD, was the entity responsible for all her sorrows. A freshly crushed, pounded and bereaved Paro, with nothing left to lose, now rose up and struck back at the author of her misfortune.
Acting was sure-footed throughout. And Sanaya and Tarun nailed it! Sanaya ably portrayed the shock, pain, horror, anguish, despair, hysteria, devastation, acid regret and the steel spine that was necessary for the crash and burn of the old Paro and the birth of the new one. Tarun was magnificent as the mercurial, mentally unstable Thakur with severe delusions of his own grandeur, sweeping from irritation to graciousness, mad rage to benevolence, from exasperation to charm. Rudra in his rather briefer appearance today was convincing in his urgency to keep Paro from going with the Thakur and to find Paro despite his injury. And the actor who plays Danveer was equally believable as the shocked and grieving brother. Kudos to all for a captivating episode. đđđ
Waiting for tomorrow and Rudra's meeting with the new Paro!
Bade Achhe Lagte Hain
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