Hi Guys,
Just caught up with this show over the weekend (or rather the first half of it!) and was completely intrigued by DC's character. I only watched until Meenakshi enters the academy. That scene on the stage (I saw until he tells her about the karambhoomi), all the instances before and the enigma that DC appears to be have led me to do the unthinkable.
So here's my first attempt at something... it's a fiction based character study. Erm, kinda like an OS and DC analysis combined. Let me know what you think. Sorry if I missed any details or there are glaring bloopers. Its all based on initial episodes.
DC - Devil or Disguise?
He knows how to break her.
He has learnt many things over the years. Few through observation, some through experience; but the one he cherishes the most, keeps as his closely guarded secret and uses as his ammunition, is his reading skill.
He used to read a lot. His demeanor made books easier to befriend. But that was a long time ago. He was a different person then. Now though, books don't hold his interest anymore, but people - oh people, he enjoys. He loves reading people more than the silence of static words trapping vibrant worlds. He loves reading real people, with their real hopes and dreams, fears and ambitions. They thrill him, challenge him, entice him and he enjoys the way they come undone. He knows well how to undo the best of them. Takes pride in his work and enjoys the perks he gets. Fame and money are just that for him - perks. He doesn't chase after them; he is better than that, better than the people he so slowly unravels, the people who seem so hungry for these perks. The ones who miss the real picture, the big picture.
He has never met anyone who understood the real story, the driving plotline, so subtle and quietly embedded in the heart of it all - at least not like he did. The ones who came close to knowing - well those people he didn't like very much. What was it they said - something about half knowledge being more lethal than ignorance, he believes that. He has no place in his life for dangerous people; he has enough foolish ones under his control anyway.
He smiled as he looked at the camera footage before him. A smile that didn't reach his eyes. His smiles never did, not unless he had someone to convince, con, seduce, trick - not unless he wanted to use his smile as lethally as he used his words. He rarely smiled on impulse. He was rarely surprised. That was one of the downfalls of reading people so well, of cutting through the faade and the carefully constructed personas. Some days he likes to convince himself that it's because of his profession. It's because he surrounds himself with the glitz and glamour of a plastic world, a world of saccharine sweet words and pearly fake smiles. But he knows better, and he wishes he didn't.
That is why, he reasons, he is rooting for her.
He knows his work and he knows the world he caters to, the world he feeds fantasies to. He knows what they want, what they like and what they secretly crave. He is a little saddened by the nave accusations in Sandhya's eyes. To her, he knows, he appears to be hard and ruthless, cold-hearted and ambitious. What kind of man is he, to use a poor innocent girl's dreams to raise his TRPs? If only she knew, if only she could understand. But he knows she won't, he doesn't expect her to. He pays her to do her job and make sure his gets done right, and in the process if she measures and weighs him in her deeply flawed and misinformed morality scale, so be it. He is way past those shortcomings. He is free of the chains of morality, of the sharp regimes of rights and the dark hallows of wrong. He has embraced the truth. He knows the world is devoid of colors, of rules, of extremes. He knows that there is only grey and the balance only tips from people to people and the shade of grey they hold on to.
She holds on to a pristine world, a foreign land that doesn't exist.
He knows she is going to drown. Knew it the moment he saw her perform, so carefree and delighted on stage. Uncaring of her cleaner's uniform, or the price of her dreams. She is stupid enough to think they can come true, silly enough to believe in fairness, to believe in a balance of extremes. The world she grips so tightly to, the shade of her grey is almost white and it would just take a few weeks, perhaps only days for her world to douse in darkness. For her world to turn the darkest of grey, so dark it's almost black.
He knows that he is her devil.
He knows that a few years from now, she will look back and accuse him of all the things that would soon follow. She will think back, late at night, when she is ripped away from every comfort she knows, every illusion she believed to be true and every relation she held close. She will be alone and jaded, slowly suffocating in the very world she is running towards, trapped in a golden cage and she will only hold hatred in her eyes for him. She will accuse him of stealing her innocence and corrupting her mind, of tainting her soul and shattering her heart. He knows that she will burn in her hatred for him, abhor his very name in print. Think of him as her destroyer. He won't blame her, for she would never know better.
He broke her to make her stronger.
._.
Thanks for reading.
c.d.
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
Cricket
