Blast from the Past Thread #25 ** Abducted Dreams ** p 129, ep 257 - Page 104

Originally posted by: sohara

Short though, but precise and very sweet. You conveyed the emotions beautifully.

This air is rife with melancholy with his absence. Loved how you expressed the sorrow in the last para.

I really love this lovelorn Khushi. How crazily she loves Arnav! hai na! Or Sanaya's beautiful acting made it more real. Like us Sanaya also missed Barun. When Barun came for the reunion shoot, she became so emotional that she cried. They are such good friends!

I loved your thought about Anjali and Khushi's relationship status. The cvs did a wise thing to show Khushi's break down in front of Anjali. She didn't go to her own sis, but broke down to his sis, who is arnav's most dearest.

Really loved the bonding between two sister in laws.

All the red lines are my favorite.

Originally posted by: Katelyn

This is our message and gift for Sana Khan's birthday!! Hope that's fine!! Thanks to Supriya for helping with the message!!

Dear Sana,

Happy Birthday!! Keep up the spirit! You are fun and adorable. We love you as Lavanya. We continue to cherish your work in IPKKND though it's been years. All the best for your future! Keep smiling!

Love,

IPKKND Blast from the Past members

(..Anita.., aarwen, AKAD, Arshidiehardfan, ArshiHamesha, BarunDiwani, ,PutijaChalhov, cinthiann1758, DurgaS, Preety_Nebula, Horizon, ipkkndfan30, ina211, indi52, IssK, Javeria3991, Katelyn, kizh72, MehreenB, salooni, Samin6, sigrid, sohara, supriya.arshi, wiwy, and co.)

p.s. Love your dimples!!

episode 253

he came to her in a dream, his voice calling her, touching her, wrapping around her heart... making her awaken, beckoning her to another world. dressed in flowing white edged with the colours of belonging, red and gold, she walked blindly wherever he called her, chasing his voice, needing to reach it... him.

arnav ji. she grew frantic, knowing he was here, here somewhere... and near her feet lay little opalescent pearls. a handful scattered, she might have stepped on them. signs of their very first meeting that inexplicable night... its rage and storm echoing in them somewhere ever since... he had snapped a dori, the pearls had scattered and a connection had come into being.

a connection that has brought them all the way and unerringly to this moment.

in those pearls once her memories had come to him, plaguing him with thoughts he couldn't explain... and tonight , they lie there... his missive perhaps. his need to hear her, have her feel him, touch him, take charge of his heart... the diver who will plunge to the bottom of the ocean and find the most priceless thing deep in it, glowing in luminescent glory. pure, pristine, between hardened shells.

a surreal world enclosed her and took her into a place she had never seen before, with barren trees, their dry lifeless branches crisscrossing and casting shadows everywhere, gossamer veils floated in thin air entangling with her fear, her worry, her sense of premonition... yes, they seemed to whisper, something is wrong, something..

khushi... his whisper floated... urgent, granular. she looked around growing even more frantic. where was he... and what was this... a key... mannat ki chabi. a flash of memory... she had picked up the key and gone running after him.

who was the key, who the lock? what door, what gateway did it open. was it one of the many gates to love... in religion there is an interesting concept of their being many gates to the eternal... is that true of love too... and is one of the gates, the most precious of all, called nafrat?

her hair flew wild as the winds grew strong. it was as if the gust of wind that had picked her hair aloft the day she had shimmered in red and he had not been able to look away, the wind that had told him she was here, somewhere here when he thought she was gone forever, that carrier of a feeling, a clear focused messenger of a mehsoos with the precision of a ring tone you set for a specific someone... it was as though that wind was going crazy trying to convey a message.

something is amiss... all is not well. as the tension in her being grew, a final sign, her payal... her mother's payal. what she wore hamesha. her symbol of forever... it had stayed back by the poolside one night to make him wonder, make him touch, feel, keep away in his hidden recesses that precious feeling which he told her he had not had at all the night of diwali.

the payal he slipped on her ankle, with a touch intimate and private, that had thrown her in disarray till desire had deftly caught it and made her feel what she never had... maybe she never knew even she could feel that.

the colours of the ocean surrounded her, but it was riven by harsh branches, howling winds.. why was she here. what was wrong.

arnav ji? arnav ji!

khushi... khushi ... khushi... he seemed to whisper her name everywhere... was he trying to reach her? khushi khushi...

had the gust of wind that had spoken of a feeling and started on the surface, touching skin, hair... had that reached the next level and entered a space within?

the river had taken another bend as it rushed to meet the ocean. a feeling had scaled and broken a barrier and was onto the next length of tits course.

till now they were in the same space so the need for another perhaps was not there... layered communications that seemed physical but always had undertow, had strengthened a feeling.

now he was gone.

yet he sought her. from wherever he was. and she longed for him, her heart heard him, her being immersed in him. and if this had to happen in another reality... surreality... they were both willing to go there.

this is the premonition of a lover... the first step toward telepathy. months later he will tell her... you are always with me, even when you are far far away.

does this happen? i believe it does. if the feeling is real and we haven't spent too much time trying to find a name for it.

she had been feeling wretched about the way he left. then there was the complication of shyam and the papers. she would have to find the papers before he came back she had told herself...

"kyun chale gaye... kya zaroorat thi jaane ki... ghar bhi toh aa sakte the... shyam ji ke baat sun sakte... phir unhe sara sach pata chal jata... aur woh hum par vishwas karte..."

why did he go away, what was the need, he could have come home, then he'd have known the whole truth... and he would have believed me...

never asked herself why it mattered so much that he should believe in her.

she is magan in her shyam, no time to ask why perhaps.

again tagore's bhanushingher padabali echoes, looking at her bereft state, her craving her extreme worry... her knowledge of her lover... she "knows" he is not alright. she just does... bas pata chal jata hai.

and in its unarticulated form this knowledge sets up a storm in her.

"bhara badar, mah bhadar, shunya mandir mor" the clouds fill the skies, it's the month of bhadr, and my temple is empty... a beautiful song whose words i will find and write here shortly... radha is missing and worrying for krishna, mother nature herself seems to be giving her areal hard time... radha is vyakul...

before that dream there was a khushi who couldn't think of anything but the man who had left without hearing the truth.

khushi says, nahin, i shouldn't lose hope so easily, he may still believe in me...

sanaya takes the lines and her loneliness and paints a picture of such poignancy with her voice and expression. she is as though nothing without him.

it's eleven pm.

her eyes fall on the empty chaise longue... he sleeps there... a memory in her being, hair stirred by the softest breeze and they are both running to claim it...

Originally posted by: indi52

episode 253

he came to her in a dream, his voice calling her, touching her, wrapping around her heart... making her awaken, beckoning her to another world. dressed in flowing white edged with the colours of belonging, red and gold, she walked blindly wherever he called her, chasing his voice, needing to reach it... him.

arnav ji. she grew frantic, knowing he was here, here somewhere... and near her feet lay little opalescent pearls. a handful scattered, she might have stepped on them. signs of their very first meeting that inexplicable night... its rage and storm echoing in them somewhere ever since... he had snapped a dori, the pearls had scattered and a connection had come into being.

a connection that has brought them all the way and unerringly to this moment.

in those pearls once her memories had come to him, plaguing him with thoughts he couldn't explain... and tonight , they lie there... his missive perhaps. his need to hear her, have her feel him, touch him, take charge of his heart... the diver who will plunge to the bottom of the ocean and find the most priceless thing deep in it, glowing in luminescent glory. pure, pristine, between hardened shells. 👏 I always think how are metaphors born for the first time.. people resuse them.. but who is the fountainhead of that thought.. i think you just created one..

a surreal world enclosed her and took her into a place she had never seen before, with barren trees, their dry lifeless branches crisscrossing and casting shadows everywhere, gossamer veils floated in thin air entangling with her fear, her worry, her sense of premonition... yes, they seemed to whisper, something is wrong, something..

khushi... his whisper floated... urgent, granular. she looked around growing even more frantic. where was he... and what was this... a key... mannat ki chabi. a flash of memory... she had picked up the key and gone running after him.

who was the key, who the lock? what door, what gateway did it open. was it one of the many gates to love... in religion there is an interesting concept of their being many gates to the eternal... is that true of love too... and is one of the gates, the most precious of all, called nafrat?

her hair flew wild as the winds grew strong. it was as if the gust of wind that had picked her hair aloft the day she had shimmered in red and he had not been able to look away, the wind that had told him she was here, somewhere here when he thought she was gone forever, that career of a feeling, a clear focused messenger of a mehsoos with the precision of a ring tone you set for a specific someone... it was as though that wind was going crazy trying to convey a message. Loving this interpretation of the different elements in the dream.. You have been taking notes in those phroid sessions dear lady..

something is amiss... all is not well. as the tension in her being grew, a final sign, her payal... her mother's payal. what she wore hamesha. her symbol of forever... it had stayed back by the poolside one night to make him wonder, make him touch, feel, keep away in his hidden recesses that precious feeling which he told her he had not had at all the night of diwali. this has to be my favourite explanation of the significance of the payal.. her hamesha.. with him..

the payal he slipped on her ankle, with a touch intimate and private, that had thrown her in disarray till desire had deftly caught it and made her feel what she never had... maybe she never knew even she could feel that.

the colours of the ocean surrounded her, but it was riven by harsh branches, howling winds.. why was she here. what was wrong. oh she was submerged in his thoughts..in his love.. though she doesn't give it that name yet.. drowning in that feeling..

arnav ji? arnav ji!

khushi... khushi ... khushi... he seemed to whisper her name everywhere... was he trying to reach her? khushi khushi...

had the gust of wind that had spoken of a feeling and started on the surface, touching skin, hair... had that reached the next level and entered a space within?

the river had taken another bend as it rushed to meet the ocean. a feeling had scaled and broken a barrier and was onto the next length of tits course.

till now they were in te same space so the need for another perhaps was not there... layered communications that seemed physical but always had undertow had strengthened a feeling.

now he was gone.

yet he sought her. from wherever he was. and she longed for him, her heart heard him, her being immersed in him. and if this had to happen in another reality... surreality... they were both willing to go there.

this is the premonition of a lover... the first step toward telepathy. months later he will tell her... you are always with me, even when you are far far away.

does this happen? i believe it does. if the feeling is real and we haven't spent too much time trying to find a name for it.

she had been feeling wretched about the way he left. then there was the complication of shyam and the papers. she would have to find the papers before he came back she had told herself... I felt bad that she lost those papers. Of course in a way they are just showing Shyam this all knowing mastermind.

"kyun chale gaye... kya zaroorat thi jaane ki... ghar bhi toh aa sakte the... shyam ji ke baat sun sakte... phir unhe sara sach pata chal jata... aur woh hum par vishwas karte..."

why did he go away, what was the need, he could have come home, then he'd have known the whole truth... and he would have believed me...

never asked herself why it mattered so much that he should believe in her.

she is magan in her shyam, no time to ask why perhaps.

again tagore's bhanushingher padabali echoes, looking at her bereft state, her craving her extreme worry... her knowledge of her lover... she "knows" he is not alright. she just does... bas pata chal jata hai.

and in its unarticulated form this knowledge sets up a storm in her.

"bhara badar, mah bhadar, shunya mandir mor" the clouds fill the skies, it's the month of bhadr, and my temple is empty... a beautiful song whose words i will find and write here shortly... radha is missing and worrying for krishna, mother nature herself seems to be giving her areal hard time... radha is vyakul...

before that dream there was a khushi who couldn't think of anything but the man who had left without hearing the truth.

khushi says, nahin, i shouldn't lose hope so easily, he may still believe in me...

sanaya takes the lines and her loneliness and paints a picture of such poignancy with her voice and expression. she is as though nothing without him.

it's eleven pm.

her eyes fall on the empty chaise longue... he sleeps there... a memory in her being, hair stirred by the softest breeze and they are both running to claim it...

beautiful capture..

an entanglement by mangalsutra. she remembers the moment of feeling tied to him... and then her hand moves up to touch her mangalsutra. no matter under what circumstances it was thrust around her neck... this is the one she wanted to wear, and to her this was real, a sign of her commitment, a sign of her arnav ji and his presence in her life... she needs to hold him so badly right now.

her hand seeks him... the short simple mangalsutra and a natural gesture made a scene that might have been thickly serial melodrama into a beautiful scene with longing in its every corner.

she lies down missing him, remembering his last few moments with her, the hand he makes her leave...

missing him, clenching her fist, physically aching she courts sleep. I loved this show of almost physical pain. Oh sometimes in real life I feel my breadth constrict.. and its like am actually physically in pain. And I could feel the same thing watching Khushi tonight..

till his voice reaches her with just one call, dispeling fitful sleep... pulling her into the turmoil of love.

where are you? come back... she calls out to him in her dream.

khushi khushi khushiii... his whispers everywhere. calling her, needing her.

a wail rises, a storm, the breeze tears through the branches, ominous.

"arnav ji!" she shouts and wakes up.

she wakes up still confused. where are those things, where is he?

"kahan hain aap, arnav ji?"

premonition of a lover.

the rest of the episode went by. the whole ludicrous masala mama entry and mami in hysterics while it got going. i missed the man terribly. me too three four..

even if he sat and read the papers it felt significant somehow.

and as khushi entered a space she never had before, i felt the need to feel happy about it. she had at last crossed every barrier put up by him and her, crossed all the seen and unseen fears and in her dream where we are true... walked into the woods that may scare her just to find him.. to be with him, to bring him back. on this bed where she slept alone, somehow she seemed to meet him and embrace him with all of herself. and a clear hint was given, she will go risk all to get him back where he belongs... to her. as she to him. she became his bride again somehow tonight.

tonight
is the night.
it is the creation of that land of eternity.
it is not an ordinary night,
it is a wedding of those who seek unity.
tonight, the bride and groom
speak in one tongue.
tonight, the bridal chamber
is looking particularly bright.

~~~ rumi ~~~

episode 253

he came to her in a dream, his voice calling her, touching her, wrapping around her heart... making her awaken, beckoning her to another world. dressed in flowing white edged with the colours of belonging, red and gold, she walked blindly wherever he called her, chasing his voice, needing to reach it... him.

arnav ji. she grew frantic, knowing he was here, here somewhere... and near her feet lay little opalescent pearls. a handful scattered, she might have stepped on them. signs of their very first meeting that inexplicable night... its rage and storm echoing in them somewhere ever since... he had snapped a dori, the pearls had scattered and a connection had come into being.

a connection that has brought them all the way and unerringly to this moment.

in those pearls once her memories had come to him, plaguing him with thoughts he couldn't explain... and tonight , they lie there... his missive perhaps. his need to hear her, have her feel him, touch him, take charge of his heart... the diver who will plunge to the bottom of the ocean and find the most priceless thing deep in it, glowing in luminescent glory. pure, pristine, between hardened shells.

a surreal world enclosed her and took her into a place she had never seen before, with barren trees, their dry lifeless branches crisscrossing and casting shadows everywhere, gossamer veils floated in thin air entangling with her fear, her worry, her sense of premonition... yes, they seemed to whisper, something is wrong, something..

khushi... his whisper floated... urgent, granular. she looked around growing even more frantic. where was he... and what was this... a key... mannat ki chabi. a flash of memory... she had picked up the key and gone running after him.

who was the key, who the lock? what door, what gateway did it open. was it one of the many gates to love... in religion there is an interesting concept of their being many gates to the eternal... is that true of love too... and is one of the gates, the most precious of all, called nafrat?

her hair flew wild as the winds grew strong. it was as if the gust of wind that had picked her hair aloft the day she had shimmered in red and he had not been able to look away, the wind that had told him she was here, somewhere here when he thought she was gone forever, that career of a feeling, a clear focused messenger of a mehsoos with the precision of a ring tone you set for a specific someone... it was as though that wind was going crazy trying to convey a message.

something is amiss... all is not well. as the tension in her being grew, a final sign, her payal... her mother's payal. what she wore hamesha. her symbol of forever... it had stayed back by the poolside one night to make him wonder, make him touch, feel, keep away in his hidden recesses that precious feeling which he told her he had not had at all the night of diwali.

the payal he slipped on her ankle, with a touch intimate and private, that had thrown her in disarray till desire had deftly caught it and made her feel what she never had... maybe she never knew even she could feel that.

the colours of the ocean surrounded her, but it was riven by harsh branches, howling winds.. why was she here. what was wrong.

arnav ji? arnav ji!

khushi... khushi ... khushi... he seemed to whisper her name everywhere... was he trying to reach her? khushi khushi...

had the gust of wind that had spoken of a feeling and started on the surface, touching skin, hair... had that reached the next level and entered a space within?

the river had taken another bend as it rushed to meet the ocean. a feeling had scaled and broken a barrier and was onto the next length of tits course.

till now they were in te same space so the need for another perhaps was not there... layered communications that seemed physical but always had undertow had strengthened a feeling.

now he was gone.

yet he sought her. from wherever he was. and she longed for him, her heart heard him, her being immersed in him. and if this had to happen in another reality... surreality... they were both willing to go there.

this is the premonition of a lover... the first step toward telepathy. months later he will tell her... you are always with me, even when you are far far away.

does this happen? i believe it does. if the feeling is real and we haven't spent too much time trying to find a name for it.

she had been feeling wretched about the way he left. then there was the complication of shyam and the papers. she would have to find the papers before he came back she had told herself...

"kyun chale gaye... kya zaroorat thi jaane ki... ghar bhi toh aa sakte the... shyam ji ke baat sun sakte... phir unhe sara sach pata chal jata... aur woh hum par vishwas karte..."

why did he go away, what was the need, he could have come home, then he'd have known the whole truth... and he would have believed me...

never asked herself why it mattered so much that he should believe in her.

she is magan in her shyam, no time to ask why perhaps.

again tagore's bhanushingher padabali echoes, looking at her bereft state, her craving her extreme worry... her knowledge of her lover... she "knows" he is not alright. she just does... bas pata chal jata hai.

and in its unarticulated form this knowledge sets up a storm in her.

"bhara badar, mah bhadar, shunya mandir mor" the clouds fill the skies, it's the month of bhadr, and my temple is empty... a beautiful song whose words i will find and write here shortly... radha is missing and worrying for krishna, mother nature herself seems to be giving her areal hard time... radha is vyakul...

before that dream there was a khushi who couldn't think of anything but the man who had left without hearing the truth.

khushi says, nahin, i shouldn't lose hope so easily, he may still believe in me...

sanaya takes the lines and her loneliness and paints a picture of such poignancy with her voice and expression. she is as though nothing without him.

it's eleven pm.

her eyes fall on the empty chaise longue... he sleeps there... a memory in her being, hair stirred by the softest breeze and they are both running to claim it...

an entanglement by mangalsutra. she remembers the moment of feeling tied to him... and then her hand moves up to touch her mangalsutra. no matter under what circumstances it was thrust around her neck... this is the one she wanted to wear, and to her this was real, a sign of her commitment, a sign of her arnav ji and his presence in her life... she needs to hold him so badly right now.

her hand seeks him... the short simple mangalsutra and a natural gesture made a scene that might have been thickly serial melodrama into a beautiful scene with longing in its every corner.

she lies down missing him, remembering his last few moments with her, the hand he makes her leave...

missing him, clenching her fist, physically aching she courts sleep.

till his voice reaches her with just one call, dispeling fitful sleep... pulling her into the turmoil of love.

where are you? come back... she calls out to him in her dream.

even if he sat and read the papers it felt significant somehow.

and as khushi entered a space she never had before, i felt the need to feel happy about it. she had at last crossed every barrier put up by him and her, crossed all the seen and unseen fears and in her dream where we are true... walked into the woods that may scare her just to find him.. to be with him, to bring him back. on this bed where she slept alone, somehow she seemed to meet him and embrace him with all of herself. and a clear hint was given, she will go risk all to get him back where he belongs... to her. as she to him. she became his bride again somehow tonight.

tonight
is the night.
it is the creation of that land of eternity.
it is not an ordinary night,
it is a wedding of those who seek unity.
tonight, the bride and groom
speak in one tongue.
tonight, the bridal chamber
is looking particularly bright.

~~~ rumi ~~~

Originally posted by: aarwen

Episode 254 - 255

Few random thoughts about the episodes. Mostly am writing for the sake of the lovely flashback sequences that are shown..

As everyone waited sleepily without actually worrying that the son of the house had not called, Khushi's cell phone vibrates. The message read that Arnavji has reached safely. A normal person would be pacified after this, but the woman's instinct knows way better.Always go with it!!And she is proven correct in worrying as we are shown the phone at the other end in unknown hands of a strange man.

Payal manages to complete one actual dialogue before Nani shoos her off to bed. The next scene was quite sweet. Khushi lay with her head resting on naniji loved this scene grandmotherly loveNaniji remembering chote as a kid was ok , but I prefer Aakash's memory of being glued during a summer vacation. The slightly startled rueful look and hidden smile from the elder cousin brother as he heard Aakash speak had my imagination go into overdrive. What kind of a kid would chote have been?Angry brooding probably hard to make him smile just like adult ASR

Khushi doesn't need another person's memories. She has her own recollection of the man who is now her husband. Who even in his absence is troubling her immensely. Causing her to miss him immensely. A familiar soft long drawn out.. hey hey.. I close my eyes and let those memories take over me as well..😉

She was hopelessly trapped in the crumbling ruins of the building. No one could hear her except devi maiya. As her tear filled eyes came into focus the very man who presumably had sent her to have this close call with death was frantically trying to save her. Grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him with every right. As everything around them collapsed a love story before my eyes continued to solidify.👏

She stood in the rain in tears again this time. All she wanted was to go home to celebrate jiji's bday. The man responsible for the tears had come in the nick of time and saved her. Had her safe in his arms as he held her close as raindrops fell in full force. She shivered and he roughly thrust his jacket to her. She stood drenched, her slender fingers clutching the piece of fabric that he had been wearing seconds before.

They were in an SUV this time like many other times. This time he was mad with worry about her. Moments ago he had been mad with jealousy, but as the glass of the bangle cut her wrist drawing out blood, Arnav Singh Raiza forgot everything else except the beautiful girl in pain sitting in in his car's front seat. Dammit use kuch ho jata toh!

They had declared they would not see each other's face again. Would stay away. So then why was he was there on the footsteps of the mandir? Concentrating with single threaded focus on wrapping a bandage on her bleeding ring finger.. Intent on the task..Not looking at her.. Still angry, most probably not even sure why he was there in the first place.probably but DM put it on his heart and he couldnt say no. he couldnt see her hurt.

The same fingers desperately clinging on to the same hand. He forcibly wretched his hand away. Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada had been unable to stop him from leaving. Tear stricken she had followed him but his resolute steps took him further from her reach as he strode away.😭😭😭

She misses him. A lot. Sapne mein bhi rabba ve.. We have that all the time.. Welcome to the love struck club Khushi.😆.

Which brings me to Shyam. Strange that he claims to love Khushi , but I think now he does not even like her. Can't stand her. Earlier it was definitely not a pure emotion, but there was some feeling that her presence evoked in him. Now he is quite rude to her, heartless to her plight. Not affected by her in any way. He concetrates on the money. Claiming her as his own plaything perhaps is the only reason she still holds value for him. Also he might want to teach saale saab a lesson. These are his only motivation from what I can see. When we started off there was a certain emotion he felt for this beautiful girl , but know he can only see himself. And nothing past his own self. A sick deranged man. And Abhaas looks also a bit different from how we first saw him.I think you may be right but I see a man obsessed and who believes that if he takes everything from his BIL he will obtain Khushi as well. Greed vs unrequited love

There is a London conference which has all Indians. And Arnavji is not there.😉

Sugar Free jilebis. I promise when I was writing that in my first and only OS, till now, I had no idea Khushi had done this on the show. Must have been in memory subconsciously after that first watch. But I did skip a lot of these episodes so maybe I thought of that all by myself.👏

Another deluge of memories hits her as she rushes into her room. Not in control. Not aware of anything. Not sensible. Not responsible. Not strong. Just in love. SIGH...💔

The laad governor lay vulnerable slumped across the kitchen wall asking for sweets. Sweet that were forbidden to him. Sweets that she loved to eat. She held a jilebi tentatively as he trustingly open his mouth to take a bite. Still to weak to open his eyes.

A sadness transcending the frame.. As tears transcend those eyes.. rabba ve.. rabba ve.. She doesn't know why she is in this forlorn state.. Why she is making her favourite jilebis for the man who has left her crying.

A familiar long forgotten song plays as a clear soft earnest voice wonders out loud..

The first time she met this arrogant stranger he locked her up.. Crossed all boundaries of proprietary as he invaded her personal space.. Stood impossibly close.. Steely eyed unmoved by her tears and words.. Till the inertness gave way to scary anger.. Pulled her close and tore her dori.. Pristine pearls rocketed off the hard floor..delicious manhandler forcing himself and his threats on her...to scare her perhaps, to show his might perhaps, to show his power over her perhaps but there was something that he found attractive even back then through all the hate

Placed money in the hands of the new girl in the big city. His derogatory remarks only succeeded in challenging her further. As Khushi lashed out at ASR the first time he actually tried to help her, he tried hard to control her. Instead lost all semblance of control himself. Saved her from a speeding car as he left her to soak in the rain. Repeatedly completely breaking boundaries. Hate with every fibre of their being. Resist and be unable to resist however hard they tried. Find herself in his arms. Find herself hating him yet unable to stay away.Crazy love and undeniable attraction through hate

Finally the memory of a ceremony that irreversibly altered their lives.. A marriage.. Another memory of being proclaimed his wife for the world to see as he carried her in his arms across the temple.. Twirled her, dipped her, touched her, danced with her.. Inflamed her with unbidden feelings..only to smash them with his misconstrued hatred...he'll show her...he will protect his sister from this homewrecker who was "my love"and is now a betrayer.

Did not bother to accuse her. Instead carried out the sentence👏👏👏brilliant!.. She was a characterless girl out to destroy his di's happiness.. And nothing she said or did would convince him otherwise.. He will not be stopped by her.. He will not listen to her..nor trust his heart because the walls have just built back up

What Khushi says from her heart I think I heard for the very first time. In our thread everyone often quotes this soliloquy. It is lovely. This discovery and acceptance of a strange new indescribable feeling. It started off with hatred. That was clear cut, defined. Then came all that could not be put into words. Could not be categorized and neatly classified. There was attraction, concern, excitement, longing, happiness, laughter, togetherness, belonging. And whatever sensible reason there might be to not have any hopes her heart still dared to hope. When there is a feeling with no name, nothing that can truly explain everything going inside you. When it could hurt you yet you want it. Yet you don't want it to leave you. When you miss someone so much that in his absence you talk to the winds. Iss pyaar ko kya naam doon?

And really if you could scientifically, logically give reasons for why one person falls in love with a another person I would like to believe that kind of love leaves something to want for. Love is when you have a million reasons and yet they are insufficient to capture all that you feel and sometimes you can't remember a single reason why you feel the way you feel and yet that is all that you feel.

Originally posted by: indi52

episode 253

he came to her in a dream, his voice calling her, touching her, wrapping around her heart... making her awaken, beckoning her to another world. dressed in flowing white edged with the colours of belonging, red and gold, she walked blindly wherever he called her, chasing his voice, needing to reach it... him.Have you ever had a dream which seemed so real? The veil to that other world has been lifted and there they meet...

arnav ji. she grew frantic, knowing he was here, here somewhere... and near her feet lay little opalescent pearls. a handful scattered, she might have stepped on them. signs of their very first meeting that inexplicable night... its rage and storm echoing in them somewhere ever since... he had snapped a dori, the pearls had scattered and a connection had come into being. His threat, his absolute power over her as he threatened her with his masculinity

a connection that has brought them all the way and unerringly to this moment.

in those pearls once her memories had come to him, plaguing him with thoughts he couldn't explain... and tonight , they lie there... his missive perhaps. his need to hear her, have her feel him, touch him, take charge of his heart... the diver who will plunge to the bottom of the ocean and find the most priceless thing deep in it, glowing in luminescent glory. pure, pristine, between hardened shells.

a surreal world enclosed her and took her into a place she had never seen before, with barren trees, their dry lifeless branches crisscrossing and casting shadows everywhere, gossamer veils floated in thin air entangling with her fear, her worry, her sense of premonition... yes, they seemed to whisper, something is wrong, something..

khushi... his whisper floated... urgent, granular. she looked around growing even more frantic. where was he... and what was this... a key... mannat ki chabi. a flash of memory... she had picked up the key and gone running after him.

who was the key, who the lock? what door, what gateway did it open. was it one of the many gates to love... in religion there is an interesting concept of their being many gates to the eternal... is that true of love too... and is one of the gates, the most precious of all, called nafrat?oh yes

her hair flew wild as the winds grew strong. it was as if the gust of wind that had picked her hair aloft the day she had shimmered in red and he had not been able to look away, the wind that had told him she was here, somewhere here when he thought she was gone forever, that carrier of a feeling, a clear focused messenger of a mehsoos with the precision of a ring tone you set for a specific someone... it was as though that wind was going crazy trying to convey a message.

something is amiss... all is not well. as the tension in her being grew, a final sign, her payal... her mother's payal. what she wore hamesha. her symbol of forever... it had stayed back by the poolside one night to make him wonder, make him touch, feel, keep away in his hidden recesses that precious feeling which he told her he had not had at all the night of diwali.

the payal he slipped on her ankle, with a touch intimate and private, that had thrown her in disarray till desire had deftly caught it and made her feel what she never had... maybe she never knew even she could feel that.

the colours of the ocean surrounded her, but it was riven by harsh branches, howling winds.. why was she here. what was wrong.

arnav ji? arnav ji!

khushi... khushi ... khushi... he seemed to whisper her name everywhere... was he trying to reach her? khushi khushi...

had the gust of wind that had spoken of a feeling and started on the surface, touching skin, hair... had that reached the next level and entered a space within?

the river had taken another bend as it rushed to meet the ocean. a feeling had scaled and broken a barrier and was onto the next length of tits course.

till now they were in the same space so the need for another perhaps was not there... layered communications that seemed physical but always had undertow, had strengthened a feeling.

now he was gone.

yet he sought her. from wherever he was. and she longed for him, her heart heard him, her being immersed in him. and if this had to happen in another reality... surreality... they were both willing to go there.👏👏👏

this is the premonition of a lover... the first step toward telepathy. months later he will tell her... you are always with me, even when you are far far away.

does this happen? i believe it does. if the feeling is real and we haven't spent too much time trying to find a name for it.iss pyaar ko kya naam doon?

she had been feeling wretched about the way he left. then there was the complication of shyam and the papers. she would have to find the papers before he came back she had told herself...

"kyun chale gaye... kya zaroorat thi jaane ki... ghar bhi toh aa sakte the... shyam ji ke baat sun sakte... phir unhe sara sach pata chal jata... aur woh hum par vishwas karte..."

why did he go away, what was the need, he could have come home, then he'd have known the whole truth... and he would have believed me...

never asked herself why it mattered so much that he should believe in her.

she is magan in her shyam, no time to ask why perhaps.

again tagore's bhanushingher padabali echoes, looking at her bereft state, her craving her extreme worry... her knowledge of her lover... she "knows" he is not alright. she just does far beyond intuition, a melding of souls... bas pata chal jata hai.

and in its unarticulated form this knowledge sets up a storm in her.

"bhara badar, mah bhadar, shunya mandir mor" the clouds fill the skies, it's the month of bhadr, and my temple is empty... a beautiful song whose words i will find and write here shortly... radha is missing and worrying for krishna, mother nature herself seems to be giving her areal hard time... radha is vyakul...

before that dream there was a khushi who couldn't think of anything but the man who had left without hearing the truth.

khushi says, nahin, i shouldn't lose hope so easily, he may still believe in me...

sanaya takes the lines and her loneliness and paints a picture of such poignancy with her voice and expression. she is as though nothing without him.

it's eleven pm.

her eyes fall on the empty chaise longue... he sleeps there... a memory in her being, hair stirred by the softest breeze and they are both running to claim it...

an entanglement by mangalsutra. she remembers the moment of feeling tied to him... and then her hand moves up to touch her mangalsutra. no matter under what circumstances it was thrust around her neck... this is the one she wanted to wear, and to her this was real, a sign of her commitment, a sign of her arnav ji and his presence in her life... she needs to hold him so badly right now.

her hand seeks him... the short simple mangalsutra and a natural gesture made a scene that might have been thickly serial melodrama into a beautiful scene with longing in its every corner.👏⭐️

she lies down missing him, remembering his last few moments with her, the hand he makes her leave...

missing him, clenching her fist, physically aching she courts sleep.
till his voice reaches her with just one call, dispeling fitful sleep... pulling her into the turmoil of love.

where are you? come back... she calls out to him in her dream.
khushi khushi khushiii... his whispers everywhere. calling her, needing her.
a wail rises, a storm, the breeze tears through the branches, ominous.

"arnav ji!" she shouts and wakes up.

she wakes up still confused. where are those things, where is he?

"kahan hain aap, arnav ji?"

premonition of a lover.

the rest of the episode went by. the whole ludicrous masala mama entry and mami in hysterics while it got going. i missed the man terribly. even if he sat and read the papers it felt significant somehow.

and as khushi entered a space she never had before, i felt the need to feel happy about it. she had at last crossed every barrier put up by him and her, crossed all the seen and unseen fears and in her dream where we are true... walked into the woods that may scare her just to find him.. to be with him, to bring him back. on this bed where she slept alone, somehow she seemed to meet him and embrace him with all of herself. a clear hint was given, she will go risk all to get him back where he belongs... to her. as she to him. she became his bride again somehow tonight. whta i loved about this was that khushi overcame her fears, darkness, being alone to find him and his essence. she just knew, like you said, that something was wrong. It gave her the ammunition she needed to fight the battle before her with Shyam. She will find her husband, she will seek the clues, she will pay attention...awareness of the darkness around her

tonight
is the night.
it is the creation
of that land of eternity.
it is not an ordinary night,
it is a wedding of those who seek unity.
tonight, the bride and groom
speak in one tongue.
tonight, the bridal chamber
is looking particularly bright.
~~~ rumi ~~~

Originally posted by: Horizon

hi indu,

thanks so much... and for reminding me of the early chapters of without you, when again surreality was the only place for them to meet.

i am useless at really understanding symbols, but when something reminds or scratches a thought, i get into it. most times i miss the point alas.

she was so lovely trying to find out why oh why this gadbad... what was it.. what to do with it...

on second viewing it certainly feels like a lead up to telepathy... i loved the surreal explorations of ipk.. all of them. even the space in his heart mind for his mother caught in a nightmare, but to him perhaps a dream. the last thought of his mother, that to somewhere nurtured him, held him... oh i don't know...

i am at afunny place in without you, maybe all this will help me.