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And the mercury rises! Today's episode gave us a heady cocktail of revelry - music, dancing, poetry, merriment and romance - yet so heavily laced with danger that it may as well have been called Molotov. š
The baraat came to Birpur, but so did their guns, and following their scent, the BSD. So that even as the blindfolded bride-groom slashed through the yellow tape, it was under the hawk-like gaze of the law. Yup, that's our Rudra, his uniformed presence easily dominated the welcome.
Eyes hidden behind almost-regulation Ray-Bans, nothing seemed to escape Rudra's scrutiny - not the leering comments to Bindi, nor the groom's test of valour and honour, the messages exchanged, the hissed warnings, or the Thakur's challenging stare. All this Rudra faced, or in the Thakur's case, faced-down, impassively. It was only as the groom's blindfold was removed and he opened his eyes, that Rudra turned his own away. A telling flinch, that. Claps što the direction. What, one wonders, did Rudra not want to see or not want to reveal?
Rudra's eye-sight was bang on target later as he examined the loot from the abstracted trunk and urged Aman (his bumbling Dr.Watson) to assemble the metal-cylinders into a device which was "not an umbrella".š There was no levity in Rudra's tone when he cursed the scum for smuggling in guns under the eyes of the BSD.
Cut to a store-room in the Thakur's palatial haveli. What a shot, revealing the scale of the haveli, all aglitter complete with celebratory gunshots, the dancing girls, the gulal - truly cinema on small screen! š
Here, under the guise of some riotous Rajasthani revelry, firearms are being unloaded under the nervous gaze of the groom's uncle. We can almost smell the sweat and fear. The groom's uncle is right to be uneasy, his henchman confirms, because one of the trunks is missing! But before he can do anything about it, the Thakur urges the beleaguered Kesari to take charge of stocks and ushers the groom's uncle to join in in the reception.
There is no darkness in Paro's dressing area, which is lit up by a radiance that has less to do with her richly-embroidered lehenga and everything to do with her simplicity and inherent beauty. The Thakurain gifts her a necklace - Paro has taken after her mother, she says, (translation: I care for you as though you were my own daughter). The cynic in me is unmoved: if Paro were really like her daughter, would she not replace her stolen wedding dress? On the other hand, Paro's generosity in gifting her the handmade shawl, is deeply touching.
And then Paro's on her way to meet her groom. Direction and cinematography is sure-footed thereafter- the party in full-swing, that first glimpse of Paro through the wrought-iron scrolls, the shy eye-locks with the groom - enchanting us in a make-believe summer romance, not a passing cloud in sight. The enraptured groom quotes poetry at his bashful bride. How could he not with such a muse as this? And when he finally succeeds in getting Paro to look at him, he is stunned! As was I, for that matter. Sanaya is simply luminous in that shot! š to the crew for getting this so very right!
But this summer romance is fleeting, for unbeknownst to the revellers, the thunderclouds are drawing in...
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