Blast from the Past Thread #26 ** Talk to me ** P 132, Ep 299 - Page 52

durga,

thanks so much for liking that 10 minutes post. i think it is one of my first posts on the main forum. happy it still touches.

some things just hit you so hard, they get lodged in some part of you. telepathy, that look in his eyes, the clifftop... they are dear.

among my happy memories is a whole lot of songs by the beatles... often when i see the two of them in a moment of utter love, sometimes expressed amid screaming gussa... i find myself thinking of a beatles number. first time it happened was holi, the scene dissolves to show them sitting by the poolside holding hands straight after the intense beauty of hamari dhadkane ek ho jaati hai, and i wanna hold your hand played in my head.

for this vm, i could hear "and i love her" as he fought off everything and went racing to find her... when he caught her in arms and feared and dreaded yet showed extraordinary love to bring her back to him... and when she looked at him...

what moments, durga...

wrote this on crooner 90... the rescue of asr and khushi stunning for me in many ways. wanted to share this one and also post a shorter edit of the vm with and i love her... same story, just told it a little differently.

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.

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 supposedly 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.

Originally posted by: Horizon

How many times did he say Khushi

as many as there are stars in the sky

as many as there are waves in the ocean

the tumult inside

that he didn't fathom for long why

just afresh he grasps this emotion

How many times did he say Khushi

.. All the times ...

each cell in his body craved her name

a profuse longing he couldn't tame

it resonated a love so pristine

that to bring her back...

he would even defy the divine..

How many times did he say Khushi

breaking open from his cocoon

his breath caught in that tune

magnum opus in miniscule utterance

unfurled a saga of permanence..

how many times did he say Khushi...

^^
who is john galt.

oh wasn't that the first line of atlas shrugged. thrilling book back then.

howard roark... you know on crooner we'd keep talking about him and asr. i don't remember too much of fountainhead... but that was one fabulous man. the idea of genius and a strong character with extreme inner courage... exciting.

sometimes barun paints asr with just a look or turn of head... says so much. the thing inside asr which no one but only his actor could portray... how brilliantly barun did that.

shot of him in that jeep... how unstoppable he felt and looked. this is a very thin, not too tall, not terribly well traveled or wealthy young man... he looked like a prince, mythical almost... he looked like a man on a terrain unknown out to discover a new world, he could have been any "hero" type character who would conquer no matter what... and he looked just totally sexy. how was this even done.

Originally posted by: indi52

rhea,

i thought i read in your comment on the vm that you'd have liked to ahev heard teh words more clearly... i have raised the audio level of that track.. would appreciate if you watch once and tel me what you think... the original is still there, so if this causes a problem of concentration, i'll switch back, but yeah, i liked hearing all the talk and the asr music too.

Originally posted by: indi52

^^
who is john galt.

oh wasn't that the first line of atlas shrugged. thrilling book back then.

howard roark... you know on crooner we'd keep talking about him and asr. i don't remember too much of fountainhead... but that was one fabulous man. the idea of genius and a strong character with extreme inner courage... exciting.

sometimes barun paints asr with just a look or turn of head... says so much. in thing inside asr which no one but only his actor could portray... how brilliantly barun did that.

shot of him in that jeep... how unstoppable he felt and looked. this is a very thin, not too tall, not terribly well traveled or wealthy young man... he looked like a prince, mythical almost... he looked like a man on a terrain unknown out to discover a new world, he could have been any "hero" type character who would conquer no matter what... and he looked just totally sexy. how was this even done.

^^^

thanks, rhea,

yeah getting that second audio layer right was tricky, i wanted to tell a rugged tale in the longer version... unprettified... just a foil of "and i love her" to make you feel it all a bit closer to the heart... and there's always music at another level with asr khushi . thanks for pointing out the trouble in sound.

however i am not too sure i survived that kidnap track. a flying kick arcs gracefully and lands... like tide rushing in, a man in white pushes aside men in black and glides down the steps... one hand firmly grips a steering wheel, a head is turned a certain way. hair flies.

how is one to survive all that.

Reposting an old VM of mine.. Felt like it should be part of this rescue weekend celebration..