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'Ello, again. This is long, so ye be warned.
Yeah, so usually I only do this when silently reading, zealously following, and throwing mental gushing fests over an actor's honest-to-God awesome acting isn't enough to feed my utter obsession. Basically, I like to think that I have a life outside imagining [fictional] male characters galloping in my direction, on white horses, hair blowing in the breeze, and all that jazz.
But darn Kunal's thick curls, soulful eyes, crooked smile, charm, and seriously breathtaking performances. I surrender. I'm smitten. The only actor who has ever managed to win me over with his first emotional scene is Mishal Raheja and I always thought that enigmas like him happened just once in a lifetime. But holy maccaroni, I've experienced it twice in mine.
I'm in love with Mohan Bhatnagar. It happened overnight. I've been watching the episodes back to back, season one and two, and then last night it hit me in the head like a giant brick: Mohan is awesome. I love him. He is the love of my life and the father of my 10 imaginary children. Go figure.
Being me, I decided to do an analysis, in my head. Then I realised how overwhelming that can be because, you know, too much stuff crammed in there already and not enough brain storage for more. Don't judge. We're all limited species.
Like Plath once said: "Is there no way out of the mind?" No, not really. But I can relieve my thoughts, at the very least. I remembered IF and thought "they made that forum for crazy people like me to obsess together, because sharing is, after all, caring", and here I am.
To be honest, I don't think that I would've fallen half as hard for Mohan if it hadn't been for Kunal portraying him. I've never watched any of his interviews, I don't know anything about him -- except that he has a gift; the ability to emote thoughts and emotions with nothing but his eyes, a jerk of his head, a twitch of his mouth. It's so real, so genuine that I can't always separate the actor from the character. The way that he shifts between shades of an emotion -- sad, hurt, tortured, and even contrasts such as innocent and mischievious. It's absolutely awe-inspiring. I love watching him, studying him in every shot. He's a piece of art. Poetry in motion. And the man has style.
1. Mohan Bhatnagar, I'll save you
That is my first thought every time I watch an emotional Mohan scene. Every single time. My next thought is: I'll taser whoever hurts you. For real.
Mohan is a kaleidoscopic character. With a thousand shades. And Kunal does a stunning job of bringing each shade to life. In fact, some of the shades seem so intricately portrayed that I'm almost sure that its existence is the very result of his performance, not a penned down description of the character itself.
My favourite scenes with Mohan are probably the ones in which he's been on a mad internal rollercoaster, ending up emotionally wrecked, spilling out his guts and his most painful thoughts to whoever might listen -- Kunal's performances in those scenes leaves a physical ache in your chest. You heave when he heaves and you exhale when he exhales. It's an intense experience and one that makes you believe that there's still beauty left in this world. You just have to look close enough to catch it. Because it's in the smallest details. And once you see it, the full impact of it will slam into you, knock the air out of your lungs.
Mohan is imperfectly perfect. He is selfless, kind, and honest to the extent that he loses a part of himself in the process of being all of those things. In fact, he sacrificed so much for the people he loved, so much more than he could really afford to lose. He took the blame and the pain that came with. He was always focused on being what people wanted him to be, being what people wanted to see when they looked at him; he never allowed himself any kind of freedom to make the mistakes that human beings make. And when he did end up making any, the reality of it consumed him and he self-destructed. Even though it was not always entirely his fault.
It wasn't fair. Because he was put on a pedestal and people expected something from him that no human being could ever deliver; perfection. Yet he knew that he was flawed. Yet he strived to be what they saw. Spiderman. Hero. Flawless. Though, even heroes have flaws.
I love how he even expressed it in words at one point, shouting at Nanhi that he isn't perfect, that he hasn't had a role model in his father, that he tried and failed at times, but that his love for them was never flawed. When he poured his heart out, putting her in her place, in a way, I wanted to cheer and then I just wanted to hug him, because he looked so hurt, so lost. In those scenes, in those moments with Nanhi when she blamed him, you really saw the amount of pain that he carried around, because nothing made his heart bleed more than having Nanhi distrust him, reject him.
She was, after all, the first Vyas girl that he loved. The one he believed would always, always recognise him, understand him, support him. That's what she usually did. She defended him much like a shield defends a warrior. He was her warrior, and losing that position in her eyes, losing that respect all but destroyed him.
Another scene with Beera, in which Mohan was drinking, I cried. Because that scene was heartbreaking. You could feel his pain in the sound of his voice, in the weight of his words, and in the look on his face -- that even his best wasn't good enough. The most impactful part of it was how as human beings we can relate to the emotion through Mohan [and Kunal's portrayal of him]; when we do something with good intentions and then the people we do it for distrust our intentions -- it burns.
I've got too many favourite scenes with Mohan, but that entire scene with his drinking, spilling his emotions, looking shattered, and then stumbling through the door half-carried by Beera, humiliated in front of his daughter -- GAH. It killed me. I was so furious with Megha and Nanhi. I understood them. I got it alright. The sense of betrayal. The bitterness. The hurt. But in that moment, I just wanted to tie them both to a chair, shave off their eyebrows, and laugh at their horror. Because nobody hurts Mohan and gets away with it. Nobody.
They really had no clue what their blame and rejection was doing to him. And seriously, I wanted them to fight for him for once. Not the other way around.
Mohan did his best with the resources he had. He tried to become a responsible father for the children. He didn't run when Megha was paralysed. And he stuck around for six months post Addu's abduction in the search for him, drinking himself half to death in the process over his guilt and self-hatred. He left when he thought that his wife and daughter couldn't stand the sight of him anymore, yet he didn't stop taking care of them financially. He tried to keep his promise and tried even harder to mend broken hearts, even though his own was equally broken and no one tried to mend his.
But his best wasn't enough.
I noticed how his relationship with RJ differed from his relationship with both Megha and Nanhi. There were no pretenses when he was around RJ. He could make mistakes, apologise, knowing she would forgive him, knowing she would need him and love him regardless -- that he would not fall from any pedestal in her eyes. With Megha and Nanhi, it was almost as if he had to constantly prove himself. His love. His loyalty. And it took just one misstep to blow away everything that he had ever done for them.
Mohan's carefree nature faded in the second season, but I caught glimpses of it when he interacted with RJ and, sometimes, Nanhi. But it was like he lost this significant part of himself the moment Addu was taken, the moment that he'd been blamed for that loss in their lives.
2. Vasu Bhau, another nuance in Mohan's persona
I know a lot of people miss Mohan [so do I], but Vasu in himself is intriguing as hell and I don't mind if he sticks around for a while. He's got that whole "I break bones" rugged attitude, but he also has Mohan's heart and that makes all the difference. There aren't many actors who can pull off this many shades of a character, taking him on a journey from lively to calm to stormy. We're talking about the same character undergoing a metamorphosis multiple times.
Mohan is soft and warm and safe. Vasu is hard and cold and unpredictable and he carries a darkness with him lessened only by the fact that he has Mohan's heart beating somewhere in his chest. I actually see Vasu as a part of Mohan that was suppressed and has now manifested, of course, in its extreme form. We all have a dark side, as they say. Plus, I genuinely just enjoy darker and a bit twisted characters, especially when they're depicted by actors such as Kunal who can add layers/grey zones to their character and a vulnerability, making them seem redeemable.
Kunal's chemistry with his co-stars is crackling. But I especially enjoy scenes between Vasu/Mohan and RJ, Vasu/Bala, and Vasu/Ayi. They make me smile and laugh and cringe in that order.
3. Not forgetting the writers
Kudos to the writers, of course, for penning such interesting characters, giving the actor an opportunity to portray them and show what he's capable of. What I truly appreciate about this show is that, unlike many others, the writers give every scene time to play out [focus on the characters and their emotions], and the character his required space to give viewers their daily fix. The dialogues never fail to impress me, either.
The writers' penned scenes for the character gives Kunal the chance to portray his character in all its glory and deliver his awesome performances, adding the needed dimensions that cannot be scripted, making us live his character.
For every scene that I watch Kunal perform, he becomes even more charming, beautiful, flawless in his portrayal of Vasu/Mohan.
Why didn't anyone tell me to watch NBT two years ago?
