Blast from the past thread#2! Episode 31- page 128 - Page 109

Originally posted by: cinthiann1758

To all who are part of this thread and forum,
I would like to take this moment to let you know how wonderfully talented and gifted each and everyone of you are, from your writings, to your comments,  your VMs (whether you have made them or just placed them), those who edit those amazing photos and those who observe and are silent readers.  I feel like I have found a place to soothe a hurting heart when our beloved show closed.  Yes, we are or can be crazy fans but we have reason to be .  This show is a treasure chest and in review we get to rummage deep down into the chest to find all the jewels and pearls within!
Thank you especially Doctor ( and your helpers or co-creators) for this thread! 👏 So let's have a blast! Hugs to all!🤗

Originally posted by: indi52

             
          
           "khushi"
               
"then love knew it was called love.
and when i lifted my eyes to your name,
suddenly your heart showed me my way."
~~~ pablo neruda ~~~


"khushi"
the first time ever he called out her name. in panic, scared, uncanny feeling of disaster creeping in. almost a prayer. and she opened her eyes. 27 became magical at that very moment amid all the rain, thunder, lightning, and collapsing scaffolding. he had quickly connected the dots and realised she was most probably stranded in the dilapidated building. in seconds he was in his suv, angry with sinha, rushing to find her, eyes gripped by worry, maybe a trace of guilt too. felt like the longest drive possibly, he screeched to a halt at the guesthouse, almost crashing into the building. he looked at the structure and his feet spoke before his mind did.

he ran.

inside only darkness and clutter, but no sign of life. when he picked up the bag and saw her phone, he knew she was around and alone. fear seized his senses. his eyes stilled, then lit up imagining perhaps the worst.

her name came surging out of him. a desperate call. then once more, decibel ascending. what had started the week before, that blinding awareness which wouldn't leave him alone, making him angry, mad at her, that seemed to add on an unnamed emotion. the man who had hollered "miss gupta!" that same morning, just let go of his inhibitions and called out to her, it seemed to me, from somewhere deep deep inside.

khushi... khsuhi. and a new journey began.

     
     

he found his way to her finally. when he forced open the door and looked at her huddled in a corner in the dark, he was beside himself with relief and tension, both filling him at once. a man of quick decisions and action, he knew there wasn't much time to lose, he went up to her and looked at her, then bent down catching hold of her hand, intent on taking her away to safety.

tear stained, mind fuzzy with all the terrible feelings of the day, first his screaming and harshly sending her away, then the horror of being trapped in a crumbling building, crying out for help while no one listened, she was beyond resistance or thought. or so it seemed.

he pulled her up in one urgent motion, she stood up as her loosened plait gave way and her hair opened. as he looked at her, her hair flew wild like the elements outside, framing her beautiful face, now storm tossed. a feeling of great force entered and permeated the scene. words from a very old song floated into my mind... kuch na kaho, kuch bhi na kaho... samay ka ye pal thamsa gaya hai... aur is pal mein koi nahin hai... bas ek main hoon... bas ek tum ho. yes it did seem like that. there was him and her, and nothing else in the whole wide universe. not even time.

he felt it. i wonder if she did. or maybe there was too much passion of another kind in her at the moment for this to register.
   
    
we cross infinity with every step
we meet eternity in every second
~~~ rabindranath tagore ~~~

   
     

they hurtled out of the room. and as he went ahead, she suddenly stopped. he knew something was coming. he tried to gather his composure, tell her he had no idea... but she was in no mood to listen.

at last. after all that. everytjhing that had transpired between them from the day they met. all his insults, his cruel behavioiur, his inexplicable insults, his everything.

at last it all got to her.

and a rage more fierce than the elements outside broke. khushi let arnav singh raizada have it. no mr arnav singh raizada, you listen to me. she rode into him, lacerating in her fury, how dare he, how dare he do this to her. not just a minor this or a little that, your whole life is based on a wrong foundation.

magnificent gussa. asr had met his match it seemed.

she pushed him when he tried to hold her, she shoved him with all her might. her anger poured its lethal torrent, wanting to do permanent damage. in the end, he knew he had to act, if not anything, to stop her tirade, calm her down. and yes, his temper wasn't exactly languishing silently, it was rising at every word, every push from her. he caught hold of her arms and held her, determined to have his way. without words if necessary.

"never be afraid of the moments - thus sings the voice of the everlasting."
~~~ rabindranath tagore ~~~

starting last week, it has been about moments. that have more in them than words or script can describe. everything is getting more murmurous with flutters of unknown unspoken feelings, instincts, senses. the sixth sense is at work and more compelling than the other five. the subtext is rich, richer.

today, three such moments. her name on his lips; the two of them caught in a space beyond time; the kindling of something in her expressed in wild anger.

when he saw her in her saree, then saved her and held her in the rain, something in him changed. he resisted, in his typical way. with gussa. but knowing she was in imminent danger, and he had put her there even if without realising, something in him shattered more. and felt more. the winds knew it. maybe even she did. let's see what happens tomorrow.

Originally posted by: indi52

in the silence, something seeped into him and all he could do was be its captive. his hands moved without volition, almost as though pulled by a magnet toward her face. he had no idea what he was doing, just that he had to do this. for she had touched him already. with her tear.

episode 28




    

         
         
"touch has memory."
~~~ john keats ~~~

a sense was awakened today. touch. physical, emotional, in the gut, in the heart. he thrust her back against a huge drum of some sort, wanting to calm her, and himself perhaps too. the searing storm had entered both, and swirled dangerously. he had no idea things were in such a state, he said. as he watched, her face spoke fire, anger, transiting to pain and surprisingly almost a plea for mercy; he hadn't realised how hard he was holding her wrist. a tear formed and fell.

all through played rabba vey in the layer beyond, speaking of connection beyond words beyond logic beyond the limits of our reality, even when there wasanger, when everything hurt, there was no looking back. sight had made the crack in the fortress wall, sound of her name revealed how hard it had hit, now touch smashed a rampart. beautiful direction and feel for the moment. tremulous, strains of rabba vey played on.

a glistening pearl on his hand. then another. like his first, then second call: khushi.

as though first drops of rain on parched earth. and they flooded his heart. stronger than an ocean, swifter than the rain. he freed her wrist and grappled with unknown feelings. those tears, what were they doing to him. his eyes wouldn't, couldn't leave her face.
 

before he could pull himself together, she passed out. limp, and trusting in his arms. concern and bafflement...
and so it was that his gaze fell on a stray strand of hair and a desire he couldn't understand or overcome took over.

to touch.

to feel that hair and tuck it behind that ear, to stroke a cheek, and then another? why, asr, why? he had no answer. he wasn't even thinking. she had let go on him, and he just wanted to be there with her. tender, loving, gentle, sweet, just feeling her innocent skin against his. something beyond him pulled him and kept him there.

"see how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
o that i were a glove upon that hand,
that i might touch that cheek!"
~~~ romeo's soliloquy, william shakespeare
     
      he lifted his hand and did as he felt compelled to. i felt my breath stay still as this most intoxicating sequence unfolded.

later he would pick her up in his arms, cradle her like a child, something precious, and take her to his suv, then her home. there, he'd be greeted by a sister's wrath, and an aunt's curses; insulted, shown the door. yet all he'd know is that she held on to his shirt, that he had to be gentle with her, that he couldn't just leave without knowing she was alright. he'd notice his finger marks on her wrist, and the cut on the other, her blood, red, deep, alive in that ugly gash.

he'd been responsible for that too.

someone called shyam would make him wonder. was he thinking this is a man important to her? did he not like it? in the car, a broken bangle, she'd left behind a memory for him, and then he'd see the wound on his palm. his blood, red, deep, alive. had their blood touched?













a dupatta once had billowed with abandon and caressed his face, now it streamed out and marked memories, catching the tale in its folds. i listened, captivated. the makers of this story had a strange passion to tell it well, take it deeper than the idiot box's measurements and reach. their simple devices to cross into another dimension, one beyond the senses five: a churi, a dupatta, a jalebi, a couch.. among them the dupatta so elegant, so eloquent. romantic, unheeding of good sense, going to forbidden places and touching eternity whenever it wished.
      
      

the episode was ballet like, musical, and a song just kept coming to me. listen to it while you read, might be more fun. 😳

[YOUTUBE]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUXC_dhQHzY[/YOUTUBE]
credit uploader

Originally posted by: BarunDiwani

🤗 Big hug to you ❤️ i missed all of you guys too! 😊, kya karen the real life keeps me on my toes. went to visit mom and got yelled at every time i TRIED to get on my ipad...since hubby also complained about my addition and his negligence  :( we are finally back, it is now 12:03 am him sound asleep, couldn't keep away much longer...i think pagalkhana calls all of us but oh well 😆 interesting mix of music...but who am i to say anything? i have listened to eminem and Lata Mangaskar back to back!

before i forget, my deepest condolences on missing Barun  in Cacutta, i heard the shriek loud and clear sister!!!!!  also  i feel like dancing b/c i see you've been busy bee writing cant wait to get to all of them your masterpieces that is!!!! finally i'm working on getting that drool corner ready so don't worry! its coming.. 

Originally posted by: indi52

a feeling he had never known before. that he had said had no place in his life. how much anguish in it, for a man who had to be in control, never lose himself in anything. certainly not love. and yet that scratch on his hand, that blood, the memories. unbearable.

episode 29
  
      

lyrical portrayal of a man falling in love. that's what those unspeakably beautiful 3 odd minutes seemed to me. entrancing music, not a single word, graceful camera movement. a room in blues, greys, beiges, and a deep wound in red. a man feeling the touch of one he craves in it; immersed, hypnotised, lost in an emotion he'd never thought he'd meet.

when he came home after leaving her, there was nani with many questions, and di trying to make everything calm again. but he was in no mood to answer. please, i want to be left alone. alone? will you ever be alone again?
di fussed over his cut, he was disengaged, walked away, his fist balled.
in his room he paused looking almost trapped, restless.

and then like a little boy who'd found the first marvelous "treasure" in a pile of mud or sand, he opened his palm, to look at his wound. jo tum mehsoos karti ho woh main mehsoos karta hoon... if you've been cut, so have i, yes so have i. he lifted his hand and gently touched his cut. almost cradling it the way he'd cradled her before.
      
        

arnav's namesake, the ocean, swirled in him. crashing, ebbing, peaks, troughs, anger, hate, love. what. he knew not. all he could do was let it pull him in. for what is asr to know of love? there was no place for it in his life. he said so, he believed it even more. yet, she was there. left her mark and it throbbed in more than physical pain.

never seemed out of place this soulful asr and his tanhaai. because by now, we'd come to understand this brash young man had a sensitive core. that felt, often more than others. that acted with conscience and empathy, when those that mattered to him were involved. most striking till now for me, his pampering of mamiji with that gaudy necklace, just because he got her and her feelings.

just like barun got asr. like no one eklse did. and so in that interview, a treasure really for all thsoe who love asr, he said what he really liked about his character.

sensitivity.

that's why i could never think of harsh things like retribution, even when he dragged her to the temple that fateful night. i knew that too was love, just like the one he felt at this moment. a kind of love rarely seen, and if you can take its fury, its beauty would drown you even more. she knew it as she went along too.

but at this moment, he had no idea it was that feeling. her thoughts just plagued him. he wanted to forget. frustrated, he slammed his wardrobe door, and awaited composure.
 

di walked in. again questions. she could sense he was very upset, his elder sibling who perhaps understood him better than most others. what's bothering you, i know who you're thinking of. "di, main khushi ke baare mein nahin soch raha hoon." khushi?

just before that in the sitting room, there had been a most emotionally difficult exchange with nani. her love, versus his need to lead his own life. nani was not pleased with his choice of girl, lavanya. she wanted to have a say in his decision for she cared. "main jaanta hoon, nani, par kuch faisle, achhe ya burey, insaan ko khud lene chahie... aur jaldbaazi mein kiye gaye faisle, kabhi theek nahin hote..." di tried to say something. and he spat out, "di, please, mujhe abi khushi ke baare mein koi baat nahin karni."

twice she came to him unbidden, slip of the tongue. or yearning of the heart?


                    
          
how would he know? for he'd said, "mere liye pyaar koi maine nahin rakhta." for him and nani, pyaar only seemed to suggest terrible tings. he didn't say so explicitly, but nani did, "pyaar naam ka shabd hai na, oo ka ek hi matlab hai... barbadi." it was clear this had a lot to do with asr's parents and their life, their hasty decisions, their story.

  

but in our story, pyaar had made a strike and escape seemed impossible. what troubles you, di persisted, and finally she offered to feed him. the boy who lost his mother at 14, who became father, brother, man of the house, protector overnight, who never ever asked anything for himself, today he was feeling the need for someone. for this unfamiliar feeling troubled him no end. how sweetly he turned and handed her the plate. yes, i need a little cuddling tonight, a lullaby maybe?

but he kept quiet. what's the matter, don't you trust me she asked. trust? the word broken to smithereens by his father. yes a part of him couldn't trust anyone perhaps. but di? oh he so desperately wanted to trust.
   trust. love. elemental issues of life faced him tonight.

i wanted to play a song for asr here. 😳

"wise men say only fools rush in
but i can't help falling in love with you
shall i stay
would it be a sin
if i can't help falling in love with you

like a river flows surely to the sea
darling so it goes
some things are meant to be
take my hand, take my whole life too
for i can't help falling in love with you

like a river flows surely to the sea
darling so it goes
some things are meant to be
take my hand, take my whole life too
for i can't help falling in love with you
for i can't help falling in love with you"

~~~ geroge weiss, hugo peretti, luigi creatore ~~~

it indeed was meant to be.

she was as wrapped up in him too. feeling his hands, his touch, stroking her cheek. touch indeed has memory. and her subconscious didn't reject it. his fingers lingered as she slept.
  

perhaps its call was so urgent, it woke her up. and in the transition to reality, the clearly felt and the understood came into focus. "nahiiin," he was rakshas. she remembered nothing. till her trusted elder sister said,"woh laya tha." then came recollection, she saw the scar, and her expression grew more and more troubled at what she remembered.
        

she could feel him jerk her around, his hand on her wrist letting go but the churi had already done damage, she was confused, still trying to focus. in the middle of that everyone's anger at the man. was there anything galat that happened? in a middle class home, especially with girls, this is a big concern. no no, she said, not that. leave him, leave his job, shew as advised. she had no answer, just the facts of the day. and a strange feeling.
   

a brilliant episode, adroitly stitched together. barun tremendous in his search for asr in this state. sanaya lovely in her confusion laced with anger. nani, di, just perfectly delivered, and mami's and buaji's spike plus shyam's sliminess, what a mix.

[YOUTUBE]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqv5b0UjR4g[/YOUTUBE]
credit: wolfbros

Originally posted by: BarunDiwani

again BRILLIANT in blue...and i think thats the only color i used miss BRILLIANT! Love a little Shakespere anywhere, and how perfect is of that scene. the first line is gripping!!! GREAT pickup on that Rabba ve, i think it was one of the most magical ones.

Originally posted by: cinthiann1758

Katelyn and Indi, You guys are really killing me here or should I say Zoha's VM.  My heart is in fibrillation!!! But bring more on!!!

Originally posted by: cinthiann1758

To all who are part of this thread and forum,
I would like to take this moment to let you know how wonderfully talented and gifted each and everyone of you are, from your writings, to your comments,  your VMs (whether you have made them or just placed them), those who edit those amazing photos and those who observe and are silent readers.  I feel like I have found a place to soothe a hurting heart when our beloved show closed.  Yes, we are or can be crazy fans but we have reason to be .  This show is a treasure chest and in review we get to rummage deep down into the chest to find all the jewels and pearls within!
Thank you especially Doctor ( and your helpers or co-creators) for this thread! 👏 So let's have a blast! Hugs to all!🤗

Your beautiful words said it all!  It made me all choked up!   I do feel we have a really special bond here!  A truly awesome haven to mend our broken hearts and soothe our souls!  Let's continue to rock this thread...be crazy fans! 😃  Thanks to all!  🤗