Mahakumbh 17-20: All roads lead to Prayag

Folks,

After rewatching all these 4 episodes at one sitting, I felt that the past week fell into 2 distinct segments, differing sharply from each other in tone, texture and content. In fact it seemed that the second part was largely an attempt to leaven the unrelenting gloom engendered by the first, and I am not at all sure that it succeeded.

The first 70%, right up to the sequence of Rudra in the train to Allahabad, or Prayag, was one long lament for the passing of Maimuyi, rising at times to a crescendo of grief that tugged at our heartstrings. The brief interludes in Poland did nothing to lighten the all pervading tragedy.

The second, the remaining 30%, was a pure caper, with a seemingly feather-brained Greek devotee of the Ganga, a fast talking con man, Charles, a ludicrous Thappadiya Mai, and assorted zany types populating the train. My heart went out to poor Ketaki Dave, pitchforked into what looks like a sally into broad comedy that does not come off. One hopes she has something more solid to do as we move along! For now, she seems to have an instinctive idea that Rudra is someone very special, for as soon as he grips her arm, she instantly becomes like a tame, purring kitten.

Mild relief was provided by a very brief and very fast bout between Rudra and Charles, ending - surprise, surprise! - in Papa Hamilton re-emerging from one of Charles' zillion pockets to reclaim his dosti with Rudra. This apart, the adult Charles is very disappointing in every possible way, his 5 star hotel pool scene being as bad as his introductory Russian roulette one. I only hope the other 5 Rakshaks are better cast!

And yes, the precap. I must confess that I derived much bloodthirsty pleasure at the fate that awaits the vile khoye paaye Pandey, delivered , bound hand and foot, and gagged - for obvious reasons! - to Rudra by the Swami, for even more obvious reasons.

And equal, if greater pleasure of a very different kind when Rudra meets his dadi, to be played by the redoubtable Surekha Sikri. She could well provide Rudra, right now lost and rudderless, with some sort of emotional fulcrum, not by attempting the impossible task of replacing Maimuyi in Rudra's heart, but by helping heal the wounds in his innermost being, the ones that cut so deep.

The Take 5 for this week: I think that this time I shall start with my Take 5.

1)Chandrabhan, Chandrabhan ki aurat, and Rudra: You might be surprised that I did not choose one of the heavy duty scenes that follow to head this list. But I love miniaturist treasures, and this was one such, a superb specimen of its genre. A lovely little interlude of domestic togetherness that reaches beyond death, and a rock solid sense of belonging together between Rudra and his Maimuyi that nothing can shake.

The opening bit, with Maimuyi indulging in a little wifely banter with (the bust of ) her patidev on his birth anniversary, is pure delight, especially her catching her tongue between her teeth in instant dismay when she transgresses the traditional diktat - Naam le liya! - and begs his pardon!

As she describes to Chandrabhan what Rudra has come to mean to her - jaise Baba Vishwanath ka avataar ho! - her tired eyes gleam with hidden joy and the hope that her wishes for him will come true. Phir to yeh Maimuyi ekdum free! Pehli Superfast pakadke aa jayenge tumre pas! This may not be the stuff of lyrical romance, but this is love, an old shoe love that not even death can dim.

Then comes Rudra, and Maimuyi's nautanki to get him to go to the basketball match and cheer for Maya is as touching as it is entertaining. We know, though Rudra dnd Maimuyi do not, that this will be last time the two of them will be together, and our knowledge of the impending doom lends an extra, tragic edge to the way we react to this scene.

This is perhaps the first time the grown up Rudra is so demonstratively affectionate towards Maimuyi. As he kneels besides her, catches her pallu, and says Humri zindagi to tu hai.. his total emotional dependence on her surfaces as never before . As she outlines her hopes for him, pushes him to go the game for her sake, and gathers him in a warm embrace, Rudra responds with teasing affection, twits her about her nautanki with a rare half smile on his face.

As he hugs her, his chin resting on her head and his eyes closed but still smiling, one can see that for once, the stormy, withdrawn, sombre Rudra is at peace with himself. As he kneels once more before her and kisses the top of her head before leaving, one is surer than ever of this. And as she looks after his retreating figure, all the abundant love of a Yashoda for her Kanha brims over in her eyes.

Simply marvellous.

2)The passing of Maimuyi: Yes, this is a landmark scene, and the script pulls out all the stops, right from Rudra hearing her cry and seeing in his mind's eye what is happening to her even from the basketball court (that Yadav should be eternally grateful to Maimuyi, who saved his life; but for her cry, Rudra would have broken the chap's neck in his fury) and racing to where she is, to the final, climactic moment when she breathes her last.

It was all about Gautam's Rudra. Right from the desperate race to get to her in time, tearing down the streets and alleys, arms pumping a la Usain Bolt, head thrust back, and every muscle straining for speed and still more speed. The physical realism was phenomenal. It was NOT speeded up action, for the cyclists on the road were travelling at the normal speed. But Rudra was doing what looked like 20 miles an hour and was probably at least 15, and the strain must have been very great.

The terror in his eyes as he takes in what has been done to her. The feverish haste with which he tears down the flag and ties it around her waist to stem the bleeding. The blind rage when he learns who was behind both this outrage and the 12 year old bomb blast that killed Udiya baba, which instantly gives way to fear and the need to reassure himself that she will survive: Hum hain tare saath, kuchch nahin hoga..

The way in which he cuddles her when she says Apne godh mein sone de, bachuwa, sukoon se soyenge, and caresses her cheek with infinite tenderness. When she asks him to call her Mai just once - Muyi se mai hone mein kitna sukh hai" and he says Mai over and over again, and hugs her tight. I am not the crying kind, but my eyes were wet as Rudra hugged her with such frantic, desperate love. The heartbreaking quality of the relationship between Maimuyi and her bachuwa, whether with the teenage Rudra or this one, came thru with full force.

When she has finally breathed her last, he falls on all fours, like a small child who cannot yet walk, and crawls backwards, away from the sight that he cannot bear, his eyes wide open with fear. It was the look of a lost child, who does not comprehend what has happened to him.

Finally, when he falls on his knees, like Hrithik's Altaf in Mission Kashmir, throws his head back, and howls in unbearable agony, rocking his body back and forth in a spasm of grief.

And over and above all that I have written here, I was struck by the way he used his fingers. They were as frantic as his eyes, moving all the time in a febrile fashion, now caressing her face, now cupping it as though by doing so he could make her well again, now twitching in a reflection of his inner agony.

After his entry into Mahakumbh, I have been critical, not of Gautam, but of the director, for making him play his early episodes in a hyper, OTT fashion, but this week, he came into his own, and as you can see from this post, I was relieved and content.

An avoidable howler: The whole chase and murder scene was totally incredible, and stretched the boundaries of artistic licence, of natakiya rupantar, to breaking point. There was no police, no post mortem autopsy of the murdered person's body, no FIR, nothing. It cannot happen even in a remote village in India today, not to speak of a city like Varanasi awash with mobile-wielding citizen journalists, that a bunch of thugs chases an old woman and kills her in broad daylight in the centre of the city without anyone bothering about it, least of all the police. It was ludicrous, and this bloomer could have been so easily avoided.

The doctor seems to be calling someone, perhaps the police, or perhaps Pandey, to give him the good news. Since Rudra cremates the body with no policeman turning up, it was probably the latter. And one has to remember, for future reference, that it is Maya who brings this doctor.

Ugly, unnecessary violence:Whatever his merits as a convincing actor, the scene of Pandey and the dying Maimuyi was disgusting. And as with the scene of his blinding by Swami Balivesh, it had NO place in a 8 pm telecast of a serial meant as family entertainment. The way he was shown twisting the trishul in her wound made me want to stick the trishul into the director. Ugh😡...

But even here there was one bit that I loved. That was when Maimuyi, even in her death throes, is as feisty and aggressive as her wont, and not only manages to knock that stout Pandey down but claws at his face and hair in a most satisfactory manner. I would have liked to have helped her make a better job of it! Maimuyi here embodied the familiar phrase, Down but not out! No way!

Ill-considered move: I still cannot forgive Utkarsh, a wonderful writer whom I admire a lot and of whom I am very fond, for having bumped Maimuyi off. Whatever the script-related compulsions, above all of getting Rudra to Prayag and the Mahakumbh, I feel very strongly that it was a bad mistake to have so abruptly knocked Maimuyi out of the narrative. With her passing, the emotional core of Mahakumbh has also been knocked out, and the fallout of this ill-considered decision will become apparent all too soon.

3)Maimuyi's funeral: This was, in its way, as spare, elegant and elegiac as the earlier, superb take on Udiya Baba's funeral.

In Rudra 's still, wordless, frozen agony as he goes about the funeral rites, the emotional vazan of the narrative was regained. When he put her (incongruous) sports shoes, and the glares she had confiscated from the foreign tourist after her con trick, on her body. When he came to wipe his wet hands, for one last time, in her pallu. When he kisses her forehead and touches it gently in a mute farewell.

It was intensely moving and poignant, and that without a single word being spoken.

It was only after the asti visarjan in the river, when he announces that he will now go to Allahabad with Maya, that there is a veiled fire in his eyes, a fierce determination to be revenged on the one who was behind all these horrors.

4)The Cardinal and Shivanand: The bit I liked best in the last 2 episodes of this past week was the conversation between Shivanand and the Cardinal. It was deep and meaningful, for both are big men with big ideas, however twisted the Cardinal's might be. It is significant that the Cardinal treats Shivanand as an intellectual equal, and as someone he admires and respects, regardless of the fact that they are on opposite sides of the fence. He is clearly a sound judge of men. And so they talk to each other as equals, and the Cardinal voices the hope that some day Shivanand will understand that what he, the Cardinal, wants is for the good of countless millions of mankind.

Finally, when Shivnand shakes hands with the Cardinal in parting, the latter puts his other hand too on top of Shivanand's, in a curiously protective gesture.

In contrast, Grierson is just a flunkey, and Shivanand, no matter how physically tormented he is, addresses him always with barely veiled condescension. As now, when he warns him not to mistake the smouldering fire inside his heart, and those of his fellow Indians, as weakness, and to beware of the dormant volcano that could erupt at any time.

To round off the picture by including the Sinister Swami, neither he nor the Cardinal is at all religious in the real sense of the word. They are both ruthless manipulators of all around them, and of the two, Balivesh seems to be the worse. The Cardinal at least says that he wants to benefit very large numbers of people, whereas Balivesh, who is more overtly a religious leader, seems to want nothing but raw power thru the amrit, at least so far as we know right now.

Moreover, the power equation between them seems a bit lopsided, as Balivesh deals only with Grierson, and that too not as a superior but as an equal, whereas the Cardinal is clearly Grierson's boss. It would be interesting to see how the aloof, patrician Cardinal interacts with the Swami if and when he too lands up for the Mahakumbh. For now, he seems to be staying put in Poland.

Of course the Swami and the Polish lot are in cahoots right now, with each ready to cheat the other and even to cut the other's throat if need be. For it is a marriage of convenience, with all that the term implies!

5)On the train to Prayag: The still sorrow in Rudra's eyes, which brim over with unaccustomed tears, the flashbacks of happy moments with his two mentors, moments long gone and never to return, the avoidance of anything maudlin, the stoic restraint with which he hides his loneliness and the crushing sense of having been orphaned all over again - it all makes one want to reach out to him, right inside the TV screen, and comfort him as one would comfort a lost little boy.

Welcome relief: While I am not including it in my Take 5, despite my penchant for swift retribution and dishum-dishoom when it is as well done as it is here, I loved the thorough way in which Rudra made kachumber of that Yadav's thuggish chamchas, and then nearly put an end to the head honcho himself.

What was bizarre was the way in which Maya stood there, her wrist in that Yadav's grip, without making any attempt to free herself, but simply waiting for Rudra to take care of things for her. I had expected her to kick and bite and scratch with full force, but she was so passive that it made me wonder if she was doing it deliberately, to bog Rudra down with another fight and keep him from going back home too soon. Perhaps I am reading too much into this, but it looked very odd.

Now for the plot, the shocks, the surprises and the surmises.

-The Maya conundrum: Her Mamaji!, which has been trotted out since the Monday night precap, only to be featured at the very end of the Thursday night episode, was the shocker of the year, and has, understandably, touched off a bout of frenzied speculation as to the "real Maya".

While the jury is still out on her, I feel that a Dark Maya would be far more interesting than the milquetoast version of a TV serial heroine that she has been presented till now.

Moreover, I have discovered a point from the Rudra-at-the-police station segment that would buttress the theory that she is not just Balivesh's niece, but also his willing agent.

I remembered her saying, when she is making that call from the police station to her influential Mama, now revealed to be our Sinister Swami, Humne aapko bataya tha na. .., and then she only gives the details of the Sub-Inspector and the Police Station. She does NOT mention Rudra, or even the trouble he is in.

Despite this, when Swami Balivesh contacts a police higher up (the way in which the SI reacts to the phone call shows clearly that it is from a service senior and not from the Swami) and gets orders passed to release Rudra, clearly the correct details have been passed on by the Swami to the police boss. This can only mean that Maya has discussed Rudra with her Mamaji earlier, which in turn has sinister implications.

Then again, as I had noted above, Maya brings a doctor for the dying Maimuyi who does not even approach his patient, but is busy phoning someone with a queer look in his eyes. Since the police do not put in an appearance till the cremation, it is not them he was calling. That leaves only Pandey, a confirmation call that the job has been satisfactorily (apart from a quibble as to whether this was Pandey's idea of the kind of gopaneeyata Swami Balivesh was insisting on!). I leave this thought, and the implications re: Maya, with you for whatever it is worth.

Finally, Maya can go either way, or first one way, as a negative character, and then switch to the positive side, though I am sure she is not a Rakshak.

And I am equally sure that whatever is to happen down the line, Rudra is neither in love with her right now, nor, for all his earlier talk of her being his dost, is he at all inclined to let her anywhere close to the inner workings of his mind, not to speak of his heart. Why, he does not even lift a finger to help her with her luggage! 😉

- The Rao enigma: He is shown roping in the Prime Minister's office in New Delhi to make sure that he has untrammelled access to Sector 53 of the ghats at Prayag, and that the Swami's minions are kept at bay by the Prayag District Magistrate (DM). He cites only the need to press ahead with the Swach Ganga project, but I am sure he had a hidden agenda of his own related to the Mahakumbh and the amrit.

Incidentally, why do the good Professor's minions sport dark glasses inside the house? A Men in Black syndrome, methinks!

-The Greek puzzle: If, as seems likely, given that Prof. APG Rao wants to check her credentials from her bag, the apparently scatter-brained Greek girl is also a Rakshak, her goofiness would be merely protective camouflage. She must then be having an entirely different persona with at least some supernormal powers. Let us see.

So that is it for this week, folks! Au revoir till Sunday next!

Shyamala B.Cowsik

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