Posted:
Today the CVs took away what they gave us yesterday: a victorious, empowered Paro. Today, they forced her to submit to a ritual.
Rudra set the uncompromising tone for today's episode when he declared that whether deliberately or by accident, the fact was that Paro's maang had been filled...with a hue deeper even than sindoor, the colour of blood. Therefore, now she had become Paro Rudra Pratap Ranawat.
The matter-of-fact pronouncement driven home by narrowed eyes that gave no quarter, fuelled Paro's panic and the feeling of being trapped. The walls closed in further in the morning when Mythili stopped Paro from rubbing out the blood smear, that sign of Rudra's possession, of his malign intentions, on her forehead - it was God's gift, a sign that He wanted her to get married soon, Mythili said. Paro could not but bow to God's will. So the sindoor would have to stay.
The feeling of being under siege would build through the morning as Mythili, Sunehri and Kakisa variously reminded Paro that she was hours away from having Rudra's name hennaed into her hands.
So that the minute she was left alone in front of the stove, Paro could not help holding up her hands to her gaze. Hands so recently hennaed for another wedding, but on which not an orange line or curl remained. Pale, untinted hands, with not a trace of an earlier life. Hands that would be coerced soon into a travesty of a ritual - the name of her husband's killer tattooed into her hands. Helpless hands. Hands raised in supplication to God.
A finger tracing an 'R' down her palm shattered Paro's gloomy reverie. And turning, she found herself face-to-face with the man responsible for her nightmare. Her tryst with freedom was short-lived. The monster had imprisoned her in between himself and the kitchen counter.
"What were you thinking of?" He mocked her. "Should I put Rudra or Jallad?" His voice frayed her composure "Why did you come here?" He was relentless. "To tell you it's too late...the tea's been boiling too long" He paused for a beat, but moved on before she could relax "...But there's still time for you...to be a bride...two days!!" He brought his face in close to hers, invading her space, crowding her, sending her panic spiralling precariously. She bent backwards as far as the counter behind her would allow. But he moved in, inexorably, "Do you want to sign the papers or my name on your palm?..." And he wrested her clenched fist from behind her and prised it open. "...And hand over your entire life to the Jallad." His face was mere breaths away. So she closed her eyes. It was no use. "Should I get the papers?" he persisted.
He was not going to go away. So, reluctantly, Paro opened her eyes, gritted her teeth and threw his challenge back at him. "I will not sign. And I will not marry you. And I certainly will not put your mehendi on my palm." Her eyelashes may have flickered over every word, but her eyes held their ground.
Her words were unwelcome. His advancing face promised retribution. So Paro squeezed her eyes shut. And waited...And heard his voice from a distance. She was free. He'd backed off. But she would be denied relief. His words saw to that. "How? How? There's no way out, Paro. You'll lose. The battle is between you and me. I don't lose, Paro. That leaves you." And effectively driving her into a corner, Rudra left.
But his departure didn't bring Paro any relief. His parting shot ricocheted through her brain, haemorrhaging her control, her ability to think rationally, letting her panic flow, her desperation flood. She could not lose. She could not. But he had said he would win. She turned to take the burnt roti off the fuming pan, and saw the way out.
Just once her fingers hesitated over the smoking tava, her fingers curling protectively over her palms. And then they were straightened out with an effort of will and made to embrace the searing heat. For moments. For a lifetime. How long she would have continued to hold them down Paro had no idea. But suddenly they were being dragged off the pan. Her whimpers had brought Rudra out in the courtyard dashing madly to her rescue.
Eyes ablaze with the force of his shock, he lashed out at her. Had she gone mad? Burning her hands!! Why had she done it? His control shredded before his concern for her.
It must have been the pain that cleared Paro's head. Because even though her eyes were dark with her agony, her voice was steely, unbending. What had he said. That the battle was between them and she would lose because he never lost. But he couldn't win all the time. This time she wouldn't let him win. He'd lost because Mehendi didn't take on burnt hands.
Rudra dragged her to the tap and held her still, manacling both her wrists in one hand as he ran the cold water over her angry palms. And when the force of that first gush made her cry out in pain, he quelled the flow using his hand to redirect the stream over hers. His hands might have been gentle, but there was temper in the clenching of his jaw. Did she think it was child's play, he gritted. Not she, it was he who thought it, she accused, through the haze of pain. He who'd turned the sacred wedding rituals into a joke. As she had turned his soldiers' sacrifice into a joke, he shot back. And he'd told her that he could stoop to new lows to restore their honour.
Mythili's sudden return robbed them of their chance to speak frankly. But the look that Paro levelled on Rudra as she was led away by an appalled Mythili, said all it needed to. She had found a way out. She would not let him make a travesty of the wedding rituals. He had lost this time.
And she'd almost got away with it too in front of everybody when Rudra turned up. "One minute!" His voice made her wary, apprehensive. What was a wedding without rituals, he asked. Paro would have his name hennaed on her hand, he asserted. He sat down before her on the dais, pulled her resisting hand out to him, dipped his entire hand in the pot of henna and dabbed the henna on her tense palm and fingers with spurious concern. Again and again. Leaving not one spot untouched. Unrelenting. Without remorse for the destruction he was wreaking. His pleasure mocking her loss. His eyes shining their victory on the oceans of pain that were hers.
He wondered that Kakisa didn't know about Mehendi's curative powers - it could soothe not just the soul but also the body, he said, making his plea for social sanction for his ravaging. And then turned Paro's wrist towards him to initial his name on it, A long, bold, slow stroke from the sensitive notch at the base of her palm to follow the course of the blue vein further down. A final dash at the top signed off that hand. There! Was Paro feeling any better?
And then he grabbed her other hand. Quelling Paro's tug of war with the rapist's classic line: "The more you struggle, the more you try to free yourself, the more it'll hurt. Easy, peaceful...let it happen." So reasonable did he sound the even Mythili gave her support, and giving it broke Paro's frail hold on her tears. And with society on his side, Rudra, Mehendi replenished, easily breached the defence of Paro's protective fist, surging into her palm, up and onwards, until his palm and fingers were flush against hers - every inch touching, exceeding, overpowering, completely devastating.
This was supposed to have been the hottest Mehendi ceremony on TV. All I can say is that it incinerated all that is beautiful about the ceremony and left only a nasty aftertaste. The entire episode was about power-play - mind-games that turned physical. Coming on the back of last night's sindoor smearing, Rudra's effort to break Paro were completely ill-judged today. She broke down. But not in the way he could have imagined. She harmed herself. And so harshly that even Rudra was shaken. But clearly not for long.
Today's episode was pock-marked with ugliness for me. There was not one occasion when both leads shared a civil, unfraught moment. If it was not Rudra trying to wrest victory from Paro or break her, it was Paro telling Rudra he had lost, or Rudra gloating. The last scene was quite frankly the last straw for me. It was objectionable on so many counts that I don't want to get started. And what was with Kakisa smirking along with Rudra? Does she now suddenly hate Paro more than Rudra to take his side? Because I thought it was Rudra she wanted killed and not Paro!
This episode was a powerful, polarising one. The CVs have a great deal to answer for. They may have been striving for dark and complex, but the result was simply, deeply objectionable. Did they think this was hot? Because if so they have misjudged what romance means to a largely female audience. Even in a love-hate serial.
Acting-wise, Sanaya takes the trophy for her nuanced, powerful performance, which evoked a multitude of emotions! Great performance from Ashish too who easily changed the tone from last night's light to today's dark, and made it easy for us to hate him (at the end). 👏👏👏
Hoping for a better-judged episode tomorrow.
Love Friendship Dating and Relationships
Bindi
Current Affairs
