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indi52

@indi52

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Posted: 8 years ago

#181

Originally posted by: CT_Shreya
opened on TM's request

thanks so much... will keep thread alive.

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coolpd93

@coolpd93

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Posted: 8 years ago

#182

Hovering around:)will read wn fynd tym:)

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indi52

@indi52

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Posted: 8 years ago

#183

^^^

thanks for hovering. 😆

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indi52

@indi52

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+ 6

Posted: 8 years ago

#184

a crooner take on episode 312...

funny how at times things i'd liked the first time i saw an episode, i didn't like later... mainly because the story went elsewhere and those things lost meaning, became irksome even. one such was that gift giving in episode 311, just before dadi's arrival. i liked the way he held her but found the whole sequence not at all asr. and khushi's make up was heavy, stark, and most unlike her. however, this is what i wrote soon after episode was telecast.

silences. and the talk is not yet over.
anjaane vaade intrigues me, archu. looking forward to your update.

adding on

archu, a crooner as touching as the episode. beautiful words and pictures in the colours of truth, black and white. i am again floating on an ocean of dreams and promises known and unknown. (maybe the flu has something to do with this sensation too, but let's not allow reality to interfere with our perfect dream moment.)

when she pulled out the string of pearls and i saw the expression on his face, i immediately thought of priya, crooner, dream analysis. in fact, after that blow my mind "they're beautiful" sequence on the payals, i remember wondering, did they tell the full story of those scattered pearls in her dream among bare and barren trees?

my thoughts on the episode.

you speak of the tears he gave her. well there were tears today too. in my eyes, as i caught on to what he was trying to do with all his stupid this stupid that. such a beautiful display of innocent, uncontrolled, vast love. but then, how else could the ocean love?

he looked uncomfortable in his kurta, impatient to get the gifts in, barking at poor hp for no reason, he was obviously up to something. but never did i imagine it was this. gifts for her i knew he'd got, but this was sheer poetry and the most tender giving love ever. the riches of the sea are the bilackbuster surprisiya really. (i am sure those two memorable mami words are meant for the revelations of the coming weeks, but i'm doing ramanchi and hijacking them.)

you don't like expensive gifts. what do you like, my lady. i'll woo you your way, because i know now when i lose myself in you i win, mein tumhe jeet lunga, but not by vanquishing you, by validating you.

the important thing is you, because i love you. khushi heard his feelings, and when she saw the pearls, she knew he heard each and every feeling of hers. he dreamt her dreams. and again he brought her to tears. the sweetest, most cathartic tears ever, how freely they streamed down her cheeks, washing away griefs and sadnesses that we don't even know of. perhaps even she doesn't. her "thoughts that do lie too deep for tears."

did you notice the way he hugged her. with such open heart. he gathered her close as though she was the most precious pearl in his bosom, he snuggled close, joy and you're mine and i'm yours written in his eyes, his very body language. he never lost himself in that moment, he found her and took back into him a part of her forever.

i felt, she'll be safe there. for even as the narrative edges purposefully toward the story of sheeshmahal and arnav and anjali, we're also closer to discovering khushi's early days and there is unbearable sorrow buried deep somewhere.

that hug also had something of the innocence of bobby and what was it, dabbu's hug in it. i suppose when we drop our defences, set aside our egos and show ourselves for who we really are, we reclaim our most unspoilt, childlike selves. and if we are to fight real devils, we need that more than anything else.

the shot of her arms going up his back to hold him at the shoulders, the pearls between her fingers was beautiful, glad it was arnav singh raizada and not his body double there. every shot of him as the ocean drowned in his feelings was unspeakably beautiful.

to wake up to a dream like that. the man who loves you with all of himself, sitting and watching you in wonder. and yet only a day ago, you two were warring, hurting, almost dying. and just a while back, both were behaving like kids when he thought you went missing. and then after he'd told you why he wore the kurta, for you not di stupid, off you went to khushi land on seeing the boxes "oh no, not again do i have to unpack and pack all this?" but soon, you knew what he'd asked you to open. in that velvet box lay his heart with a promise in every pearl that the wicked witch had taken away in some fairytale. so many moods and all the swings...

delightful isn't it this love? just like the ocean, with its calm, its depth, its warmth and colour as the sun rises and sets over it, its silken shimmer under a starlit night, its playful little white edged surf, its ebb and flow, its storms, it's undercurrents, its tsunami. it is all of love.

"hamari baaten abhi khatam nahin hui."
your conversations in silences, in words, in moments of quiet away from each other, across space, all take you to your destiny. jo mein mehsoos karta hoo jo tum mehsoos karti ho, she'd asked you why does this happen, when i come close to you my heartbeats race? after this day will you ever be far from each other?

"aisa laga humari saansey ruk gayi."
khushi went, i felt, to the exact place where arnav is, in her love for him. her heartbeats won't just speed up, now they will stop if she can't feel him close to her. as her lips moved to a tentative smile, i thought, yes, he has brought her to that smile he so wanted to bring her to.

words from a long time favourite seem to tell their story.

to dream... the impossible dream...
to fight... the unbeatable foe...
to bear... with unbearable sorrow...
to run... where the brave dare not go...
to right... the unrightable wrong...
to love... pure and chaste from afa...
to try... when your arms are too weary...

to reach... the unreachable star...

other thoughts
storm warning everywhere. mami, our wondrous chorus has been doing her utmost to keep us updated. but somehow, it doesn't scare me anymore. everything is really a foil, a backdrop against which we'll see the journey of an amazing love.

anjali is getting more and more complicated. did i really believe her when she assured khushi of a fresh beginning and all was fine? not really, her smile never reached her eyes. shyam with his peculiar hold over her is possible pulling her strings right now.

again fell in love with the music of raju singh. so many emotions, beautifully understood and expressed in the different background segments, and of course, the legendary rabba vey. this man has been with a master who has told him it's ok to test the limits, seek new worlds, dream bigger i feel. could it be the time he spent with r d burman. a cool sophistication in so many places, reminds me of the man who changed the tone of hindi film music.

khushi's make up is taking away from truly perfect moments. sanaya irani's delicate colouring needs fine, light make up to enhance, not heavy hand blushers, lippers, raccoon eyes. in the morning scene the heavily made up eyes was almost as distracting as body doubles.

Edited by indi52 - 8 years ago

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Bengu

@Dill27

Newbie

Posted: 8 years ago

#185

Thank you very much for the index and all the hard work.

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indi52

@indi52

IF-Sizzlerz

+ 6

Posted: 8 years ago

#186

from crooner 1.53: "doubts" of faith page 3... sheetal track

delighted to see a crooner after so long. ipk just no longer feels complete without a crooner analysis anymore. thank g, priya, you're getting that writing feeling back again.

lovely crooner, the thoughts on doubt so interesting. without doubts, it's almost impossible to have belief, have faith. that first quote on loving things difficult to love easily, there's such an understanding of love itself there. we keeping seeking for easy to love people, actually is anyone ever that?

about the track. of course it is rushed. everything is at breakneck since remarriage. now in a span of a week and a half we have moved from introduction of new characters to dna test by khushi of arav and asr. why the rush? no idea. is this not a leisurely rally but a short 60 lap formula 1 race track? something brought in to illustrate certain points then neatly removed and back to normal (well whatever that is in ipk, i have a feeling we'll never find out 😆).

i have like you really enjoyed khushi these past couple of weeks. both the writing and the acting. of course, my man with the pulled down lips so undeniable in that mirror in the scene before last, well he is of course you know how. and yes wednesday poolside, i hope we are all eating jalebiya in copious quantities when alone with our lovers.

about friday and this whole thing, gathering thoughts still, will be back early tomorrow morning.

rashmi, what a slogan you wrote, my crooked lip co-phanngurrl.

update

despite the breathless pace, the difficult new tale, the inexplicable absence of mamaji, the slowly disappearing akash, the question of nk's role in life other than being sweet and checking out women, and anjali's unbelievable imperviousness to both the loss of child as well as yeh bhi na, i have really enjoyed several segments in many episodes. especially the asr khushi ones.

of course, mamiji never lets me down, the champi and sleep along with her tart little observations and genuine delight at little arav just make me fall more and more for this authentic weirdo. so hard to come by real things these days. since the arrival of sheetal, of course, fake is a feeling in the air. even the fakest of fake prada bags are more true to themselves than her. if this was the intent all along, "good job" as they say. ok those funny exchange of looks with nk seem to indicate she will turn into what is known as a "positive" character and start doing a number with him. for the sake of that jobless but straight as an arrow and happy boy, i hope not. i will always remember his anger at shyam when he hears of things and his instant: jijaji is a dirty man, let's tell the fam and have him thrown out. refreshingly simple and unspoilt. which is why he is nand kishore, a namesake of the divine flautist and i hope sheetal leaves him just that, cold.

naniji looks happy these days. a child lights up her home. strange thing with kids, they often do. almost as though a bit of play, not so straight, not that rule bound is fine. not only for the kid, for everyone. little arav was dressed for school in the drawing room of the rich tycoon's home by four adoring women. lovely cute scene, but er in the drawing room? having spent large spans of time with sort of joint fams on both parents' side, got to say, everything and anything can happen.

the child in question is rather sweet and very troubled by all the attention. the actor has a remarkable way of expressing his bond with his mom. he knows she is fragile and the father's place in their unit is very grey. he only wants to make sure his mother is protected from prying eyes and questions. that's what i felt during the rather unreal school admission scene and when he went to her straight after the kidnap.

arnav singh raizada went to this school in delhi for 10 years? really?

once upon a time when asr went to buy flowers for his sister for some puja, he'd call home, you'd know where he'd gone and so when he walked in with loads of marigold in basket, very unlike him, and dashed into the ever in a rush ms kkg and they gorgeously slipped into a rabba ve, you never had to ask yourself , "how come tycoon bought genda not orchid," or whatever. everything worked well, story was simple yet strung flawlessly. now you have khushi devastating kidnappers with lauki and drumstick, no idea what a kid is doing alone in a bhaji gali straight after his mother and he arrive from the u.s., the tycoon doesn't know whom he is interviewing, devoted single mother leaves son in toyshop during interview, then there's that really long drive covering hours from ar to rm, perpetually dressed up and beaming anjali, asr who never goes to work, and the biggest sigh, he doesn't pull khushi masterfully off to a legit, much remarried rabba ve.

but i shall not crib. will just remember this is a soap, there are brill phases and not so brill ones. as long as the love story stays interesting, i will dekho that and andekha karo the rest.

the love story just got intensely interesting this friday.

pyaar, she asked.

bharosa, he said.

it has been wonderful to watch khushi these days. and as you so keenly picked up, priya (of course, i did not) the story is all from her pov now. everything as it seems to khushi. it will swing back to the man with the most fascinating flaws soon. i have completely identified with her worry regarding his girl friends that "meant nothing," especially the one at home. khushi loves asr madly badly as he does her. but she is new to this whole thing and very unprepared for ex gf landing up with son who seems to remind everyone of asr. khushi is in a bind. she likes the little fellow and is really sad to hear he has diabetes (i fell in love again with asr when he interpreted her worry as her concern for the boy, "bahut bura lagta hai na..." i was about to say to him, "nah, she's just worried it's your kid," when i realised he had read her right... to a great extent).

but her suspicions are playing havoc with her thinking. making her imagine things most scary and, in that state sanak is her only survival kit.

i absolutely adored the baankelaal sequence, all three actors were outstanding. sanaya unforgettable with her paan and rose and filmi flirtation. i could see her losing it and sympathised with her. even me with all my city ways and blase attitude would find an ex that brings a smile to my husband's face difficult to be oh so cool about. then the boy.

yet i felt, just as that night asr's anger deluded his mind and got the better of him, in this instance, khushi's insecurities made her cross a line. a dna test of your husband and a boy you've just met without even having some sort of chat with him? she tried to approach the matter of the relationship and its depth with asr, but she never even once said anything about her feelings regarding the boy. so while asr knew she was trying to ask him something, even in his wildest i bet he had no idea it was to do with fathering a child. he was really in a state of "aap soh rahe ho," re this.

this is a man who has hurt her and then has learnt to trust her without a single piece of evidence to allay his suspicions. he has listened only to his heart for her and said "i need nothing else." post that he has done everything he can to show her his love and trust. she has been touched and convinced by it, responded, and accepted him sexually before the remarriage. a huge step for her. and then they've dealt with the spectre of the past. again he has set aside his deepest angst, the reason for the turn of his very character, and said "ana toh tha hi." no going back in this love.

after so much, i do feel really hurt for asr that khushi couldn't come to him, despite her insecurities. as she looked at the envelope, her fears made her pause and wonder; perhaps she even felt she hadn't done the right thing in her haste; i felt her desperation within, not wanting to hurt anyone, yet wanting to know, and not wanting to know because what if... he caught sight of the envelope, and an emotion hard to describe entered the fray. she: sad, worried, apologetic, he: incredulous, hurt and anger entering his eyes.

she is exploring a newfound sense of huq. and he has just learnt how to put complete bharosa in one person. i do hope the outcome of this dilemma is the strengthening of that feeling called pyaar and their growing as two people.

"you always hurt the one you love, the one you should not hurt at all;
you always take the sweetest rose, and crush it till the petals fall;
you always break the kindest heart, with a hasty word you can't recall;
so if i broke your heart last night, it's because i love you most of all." ~~~~ allan roberts (a song sung by many, even parodied, but a grain of truth there, love and hurt have intimate ties)

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indi52

@indi52

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Posted: 8 years ago

#187

the crooner take on 348... crooner 1.42: jab tak hai jaan... pg 3

i knew she'd do it, and indeed she did.
to the towel dancer and his one true lover.

you are right, priya, that needs some recovering from and no amount of replay is enough.

edit:

priya, just read your beautiful update. rich with quotes and thoughts, real and in love. my thoughts still floating. sorry, will update monday morning.

will leave a quote here, that struck a chord:

do you want me to tell you something really subversive? love is everything it's cracked up to be. that's why people are so cynical about it. it really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. and the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.

~~~ erica jong ~~~

update

it all came together finally. under the stars and revolving planets, floating upon an inky blue ocean in the night, nestling on a bed of glimmering mother of pearl, two lovers; each the other one's pearl, the ocean crashed on the shore, the shore undulated and raced to merge with the water. take me.

what sound was that?

i turn away into the shaking room.

what was that sound that came in on the dark?

what is this maze of light it leaves us in?

what is this stance we take,

to turn away and then turn back?

what did we hear?

it was the breath we took when we first met.

listen. it is here.

~~~ harold pinter ~~~

yes, it was there, their very first crashing upon each other; a girl in the wrong place at the wrong time losing her balance, falling into arms that were not wanting to be there, shock and surprise and something else in that breath of first collision. what was that something else? today it found its answer.

she had found her balance, and the arms now (as then too) did want her. and only her. nothing else but her. i understand, take me.

priya, i am still dizzy really. delirious and yet in a funny kind of calm. guess this is the effect of coming upon real beauty. how not to think about something that brings us to that. true, the hindi serial "elements" are too pronounced at times, even unbearable. but every now and then along comes magic, that restores our senses, resets our sensitivity, makes us feel the things that matter. makes us believe, "fairytales can come true, it can happen to me, it can happen to you..."

"dance is a vibration of the spirit that stirs the body to move when music is being played. by that definition, it is not unreasonable to conclude that if the quantum universe is made of music, then we are all dancing right now." ~~~~ lar lubovitch

there was so much dance last week. a love story was told, a proposal made, a lover was punished. as we laughed and hooted and swayed and tapped our feet, as we dropped our inhibitions, opened up and relaxed, the real and last dance started on a quiet note in a secret place, under the stars, above the earth, in a space beyond the grasp. every move was natural as though they'd practiced for years. when he arrested the motion of her arm reaching for a remote, held her hand and brought it to his lips, why did my heart thud. what did i know and how? somehow, one knew this time the dance would reach its climax, there would be no rude interruptions.

but before that started, she finally took as hers what he'd been practically thrusting upon her since the night of a terrible fight. huq. it was his way of saying take me. claim me as yours and yours alone. tonight when he asked: why did you come here? she looked into his eyes and said: because only i have haq over you, no one else. what would you have done if you'd found another woman, sorry chudail, here? i'd have killed her, but before that i'd have pulled her hair.

at last at last khushi was feeling, all her feelings. her love, her lust, and lo and behold, her hate. it was time to feel the truth. (kalpana's storyboard "kiss me" had the most interesting tying up of these words and it just stayed in me. thanks, kalpana, hope you don't mind the borrowing.)

he wanted to show her something. their own galaxy, neatly contained in a room, or was it just limited to that.

there he laid her down and held her in his arms to tell her she was everything to him. what, she wondered, their parents must be talking about, looking up at the stars he'd fetched for her, just as she'd said to her mother he would all those months ago. oh they'd be happy to see their children had found true love.

true love.

but how do you know it's true? he asked. she knew. a convulsive move toward him, arm reaching out and wrapping around, as she recalled his being away. they remembered a conversation outside the barrier of time and space. "hum done... kitne ajeeb hain." ajeeb. his word for her, now his word for both of them. is he relieved to rediscover his ability to be "ajeeb"? strange are the ways of love 😆.

somewhere along all this talk and play, their breath grew thicker, warmer, a wanting to be one in them. he broached the subject, ever so gently, holding himself back. i'm sorry i know, you don't want to... not before the wedding. she stopped him with a kiss, with a arching of her body, with a few words. i understand, i trust you. the winds sang, make love to me.

khushi let go of the hold of the outer world and acknowledged an inner truth. she loved this man, this man loved her, without limit, without barriers, with all of him, she trusted that. that's what made union with him right, correct. he had taken her as his wife on the basis of their wedding, she accepted him as her true husband tonight. brilliant bend in the story. nayi soch finds place at last.

the most lyrical yet completely natural movements of body mind heart and soul followed. who had thought of this? how could anything be so beautiful? take off the bangles, remove the earrings, untie a string, let the woman in black lose herself completely on this inky blue ocean of love. let her lover merge himself again and again in her. for this is love, real, ethereal, surreal. this is true love.

ek.

truth is one. aaj se hum ek hain. hamari dhakane ek ho jati hai.

three memories (there are many, but these i wanted to share):

1. in crooner 98, priya, on the day of their fight, you'd chosen two insightful storm quotes.

"and once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. you won't even be sure, whether the storm s really over. but one thing is certain. when you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. that's what this storm's all about." ~~~~ murakami

"there's always another storm." ~~~~ maria v snyder

in my post i'd referred to that: murakami's storm leaves you changed every time. snyder's storm is always there. as one ends the other comes. sometimes there's a little respite, happiness, giggles, koochie coo, rain dance. but the storm does return. yet through it all love asserts, ascends, attains. you give each other sukh but also dukkha. khushi will too, i am sure, if this love is to go where it can. one day your feelings transcend the petty limits of earthly hurt and pain, crosses boundaries you never thought you could, and reaches for hamesha. you no longer need to say it. you become part of each other. not getting carried away. promise.

2. in crooner 1.2, the night khushi didn't accept asr's birthday wish, your quote:

"it reminds me of that old joke- you know, a guy walks into a psychiatrist's office and says, hey doc, my brother's crazy! he thinks he's a chicken. then the doc says, why don't you turn him in? then the guy says, i would but i need the eggs. i guess that's how i feel about relationships. they're totally crazy, irrational, and absurd, but we keep going through it because we need the eggs." ~~~~ woody allen

i wrote in my post: how come wise, deep beauty is sleeping, not letting her shaitan feel a bit better. he's been trying desperately since that fight and forcing her to remember the contract. disturbed me. but no matter. priya, thanks for that woody allen quote, we're all in it for the eggs really. i want it, mr raizada wants it, and something tells me sleeping beauty will wake up soon and ask for an omelette.

3. after the thursday episode where the towel dancer floored us, i'd written: "i do have a crib i confess. i am not connecting to khushi as well as i want to. is it the writing that's making her tad too strident and sp bahu? or is it performance? or both? no idea. gut again. khushi kumari gupta is far more than this. i hope the problem corrects soon. asr and kkgsr need the other to be completely themselves." and the next day, khushi just got it all back, i was lost in her. had been so wanting to see her looking gorgeous with minimum fuss. and there she emerged in her lbd. has a black blouse ever been this sexy and sat on such an innocent bare back. the straight long hair minus buffaunt, the silver touch on arms and ears, the bindi, absiolutely alluring. both times asr chose her clothes, he did a pretty neat job. 😆 fire her designer, employ her husband instead. her huq.

right from that moment on june 6 2011 when they first set eyes on each other, we've been coming toward last friday. one long, unbroken dori gathering pearls, one by one, ah so many many memories. now that a string is untied, a string is done, and the next one begins. an extraordinary tale of love, be prepared for giddiness, dizziness, giggling, laughter, heartthudding, pillow clutching, and tears.

hamari dhakane ek ho jati hai.

it was the breath we took when we first met.

listen. it is here.

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indi52

@indi52

IF-Sizzlerz

+ 6

Posted: 8 years ago

#188

on episode 352 from crooner 1.45: he came for her... page 3

good morning, priya

stirring "flashback" crooner. moments from past crooners that you refer to went by in a cascade through my mind, much like the images of khushi gripping arnav as he drove. as i watched yesterday and the rose was noticed by him i remembered what i'd just written a while before and our exchange around it. the feelings triggering this have been there ever since he took her to the garden and mother, rose, life, tree, gardening, love all came together. he said: tumhe yahan laane ka matlab hum ek hain...aaj se tum meri maa ki bahu.

a snippet from yesterday:

arnav is in his garden. he is not just grappling with terrifying emotions, he is having a meltdown...

there are red roses in the calamity of the night. will his eyes fall on them, will his tree send him thoughts of peace? will his ma reach out to him, here where he believes she is closer to him?

his mother spoke to him through the rose and the thorn. where will she lead him? all the way to khushi?

beautiful crooner. that analysis of his flashbacks, how it establishes her bharosa in him, his fear of losing her, their love story as it were, was remarkable. and yes, he came for her...

will add here later. see you.😊

adding on.

first, a little aside. sorry, priya, i am exhausted with our own hypocrisy, had to say this.

beautiful juncture in the story, why can't we just get on with it. after that barun quits sms from a friend, and the deluge of yes, no, finally, really on the forum, starts the lalit mohan quitting talk. i just tried to stay away. the story was important, the acting, the energy, not the gossip. then just now, another round of smses: barun and lm don't get along, it got to either him or me, barun has a big ego and is this that and the other. you know i've never needed barun to be a saint. as long as he was performing with sincerity, making arnav singh raizada live and breathe, i felt he'd given me all that i had the right to ask of an actor, and i'd given him what he could ask of me: a viewing, apprecition/criticism, an honest opinion. his personal life, his morals, his relationship with his colleagues, that's his business. just as mine are mine.

i saw a fresh young man with something in him in shraddha, that he has been able to realise that "something" to this is spectacular in my eyes. if he and his director don't get along and there's a fall out, not my business. if the director leaves, i will still watch for as long as i please. if barun leaves, i quit too. no hard feelings anywhere. just please don't tell me all about it.

it interferes too much with my connection with the story. and the story is at such a brillant juncture.

enough. thanks for listening. 😊

moving on.

friday brought us to a closing of a major chapter in the lives of arnav and khushi, book one as it were was complete. anjali indicated as much in her post, i completely agreed. we got a weekend to take it all in, feel the curtain come down, leave the two and move away quietly.

and now begins book two. now they know and we know of their intense love for each other. they can't live without each other. he has said it in so many words: please don't ever leave me, i can't live without you. but the serpent has slithered, and in true ipk surpriiise style, it wasn't the snake. it was a large merciless viper that came to kill happiness, peace, the future. dadi.

while snakewa was reduced to idiotic ploys and really less than terrifying acting, she who had kept 14 years of venom fresh and bubbling in her, who had never really left that night of sheesh mahal, only disappeared into a parallel universe where time stood still, she came and at the invidious hour sank her fangs into her victim. why was it not strange it was her own flesh and blood? her one grandson. all she craved was vengeance. even if it ruined her own, actually was arnav her own? not really, all she really possesses is her vile soul, her seething venom, her hatered of life, for she dwells in the death of her offspring. a son, prhaps, as ugly in his heart, as deceitful as her.

arnav is roiled by the so called truth. just a picture, a name, an allegation. all that she needed to throw him into utter disarray within. that fragile was he, had been since age 14. his insides fell apart. we could almost hear him shatter. once before, the night he'd realised why khushi had left and there were only 10 days left for the contract to end, he'd reached a feeling like this, but not with this avalanche scale.

then he saw the rose. how beautifully our story has told us of the significance of this flower. when i saw the fresh from nursery rose plants stacked thick on wednesday i thought that can't be there just by chance. of course, it wasn't. through the rose his mother connected to his aching, bikhara insides, spaces choking with pain, and told him what was the right path. why crush the rose for the fault of the thorn. a beautiful inset, a mother teaching son the ethics of life itself through a random daily occurrence. that's what mothers do. that's them tending to their plants. (and usually they don't run a course and charge a fee for it.) grandmothers too, if we look at naniji. nah, dadi ain't no grandmother, she's a petty instrument of fate, there to ultimately bring the lovers to an even deeper love. her victory will be pyrrhic.

the garden fought back and stanched the rush of venom.

though he threw away the flower, ma has gotten through. he is making his way back to khushi. and to counter the pain, a humongous and prompt shot of memories. a rich trove of moments with khushi. without whom he cannot live. she's falling into his arms in the same place where he lost his mother, she's drenched in the rain because of him, she's in his arms as he saves her from a falling building and though unconscious she is holding on to him, he's slipping on a payal. she's saying she won't be able to breathe should he go and not believe her, she's rushing to him in his cell, he's marrying her, so many images from their lives, she's falliing off the cliff. arnavji!! ar-nav jiii!!!

by the havan kund a girl sits challenging her fate, ready to take the test by fire. her faith in him, her love for him, his love for her, everything is being severely tried. but she believes their love will win, he will never break her trust. a beautiful young woman under unimaginable stress, holding up, breaking apart, no holding up. she must. he will come. as everyone tries to convince her otherwise, no, she is adamant. as long as there's even a glimmer of ember in that kund, it's a sign, the agni pariksha will be taken and passed.

she's falling off the cliff. he must save her. his eyes are widening, not on the road at all, a truck veers coming at him. "khushiii!"

he loses control of his car (please return his suv to him forthwith), bangs against a tree. his head hits the steering wheel.

across the space that separates them, maybe miles, "khushiii!!!" she hears him. hum dono... kitney ajeeb hain.

she gets up involuntarily and starts running towards the door. now hysterical with fear for him. the always upbeat, charming mr malaprop, nk, can't bear to see her like this. tears in his voice as he stops her. since the snake bite, he, akash and payal have worked ceaselessly to bring calm, bring good. she goes back to the kund, and the fire breathes its last. you could see hope die in those eyes. nani cannot stand by and watch this dear girl's desperate faith and now its death any more. she overcomes all her personal sorrow and goes across to hold khushi and assure her: chotte ayenge. the two women in the room who love asr the most for a moment together. (sorry, anjali, you lost credibility way back.)

khushi picks herself up, completely beaten she stumbles toward the door. her distraught amma calls out to her. khushi turns back, pale and wilting. but she stops. what's that?

she turns again, and there he stands, holding her daman. a boy holding his mother's anchal? a man holding his woman's social position in place? a pati keeping his patni's laaj? i don't really know.

he'd whispered "maa!" as he came to, gives me hope. the rest is nafrat, dhoka, dard. sirf tumhare liye. i am here only for you or i am in this state because of you? i don't know. i have so often thought of barun as michael corleone, will he make khushi an offer she will have to refuse?

he has come for her.

book two has started out dense, drenched, dangerous. but khushi is right, the agni pariksha will be passed. with flying dupattas.

kyun dard hai itna

tere ishq mein

rabba ve rabba ve

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indi52

@indi52

IF-Sizzlerz

+ 6

Posted: 8 years ago

#189

on episode 353 from crooner 1.46: imperfectly perfect wedding... page 6

thank you so very much for that perfectly perfect crooner, priya.

👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 🥳 🥳

you've had a rough couple of days and in the midst of that to think through, collate, and create that beautiful piece of work is just fantastic. i hope arnav and khushi know how much you have hoped prayed and wished for them, how hard you've allayed fears, supported their every move, and believed in them.

you are right to be delighted that about these two you always get it.

i was thrilled by the richness of quotes and the 360 analysis of a singular moment. thanks again, dear girl.

you know what strikes me every time about this love story is its depth, its understanding of human beings and real love between two people. 30 years into a relationship i can vouch for it that everything we see here is true. and this emotion has sides to it we never knew of when we first conceived of it, or first felt it.

ipk is set in our times, in our world, in a clearly non-intellectual milieu and tone, yet there is universal truth here. i love it when popular art hits such a high note without any interference of intellectual pretensions. to me, ramayan was also this, a popular tale told to teach people the important truths of life. so was the mahabharat and possibly several pieces of work, now considered "high" writing.

i will collect my thoughts a bit, if i can manage to, and write tomorrow. was touched at some deep inner level by the dialogues of the episode. just wanted to copy here an exchange i had with parsha, where she wondered how come he forgave garima so easily. my edited version of that note:

i want to go into this a bit, by our leave, parsha. long thought, bear with me.

he hasn't said he has forgiven garima. he has said he wants to look to the future and doesn't wish to talk about the past, nor should she. in fact, he has cut her short as she is about to ask him for forgiveness.

he has clearly stated he believes the real blame lies with his father. but of course, he will find it difficult to resolve his feelings about garima. at this moment though, his focus is on something else. he was agonised, then his mother spoke to him through memory. do not punish the roses for the hurt caused by the thorn. and battling thorns, you end up only hurting yourself.

six months ago when his emotions got roiled he acted without thought, this time the same madness is raging within but because of all that has happened between khushi and him he is trying to grapple with it, seeking the right answer, the right action. his first instinct is of pain and purely destructive as it was six months ago.

then his his mother's words open a lock, change the course of his thoughts. but he is still not all the way home. a major lesson from his beloved mother: do not hurt the rose. yet his heart is torn apart. then come the flashbacks, his first moment with her through many highly emotional interludes where he became aware of their need for each other, we start with sheeshmahal and end on khushi falling backward, she could die, and we see him loose all control. when he comes to, his first word: maa. maybe in thanks because she took his mind to the most important person in his life.

but it was khushi, that really helped him clarify his thoughts, get his answers.

i stand here today only for you, where there's only hatred, pain, and betrayal.

i was looking for the elusive answers to some questions.

tumne mijhe idhar khada kar jarr saare sawalo ke jawab de diye.

(or words to that effect.)

as he looked into his moments with her, he knew this was the biggest truth of his life now. that he loved khushi. and she loved him. his rose, whom he couldn't hurt. without whom he couldn't breathe, and she couldn't live without him. he remembered her saying hamari saansey hi ruk jaayegi, her surrendering before pheras, he understood she trusted him beyond any doubt, entirely, he knew he couldn't let her down, ever. he gave in to this beautiful feeling and came to his love.

when two people's truth merge at the same point, that indeed is love. six months back also it was love, but his emotions were tender and fragile, the seed had just been sown. now the feelings are taking root and going deep, every storm doesn't kill it. he's shaken, but is able to see what needs to be seen at present. and that's what he's doing.

at some point, no doubt, he'll have to look at his emotions regarding garima. love to see what we find there.

"people where you live," the little prince said, "grow five thousand roses in one garden... yet they don't find what they're looking for...

"they don't find it," i answered.

"and yet what they're looking for could be found in a single rose, or a little water..."

"of course," i answered.

and the little prince added, "but eyes are blind. you have to look with the heart."

~~~~ antoine de saint-expury, the little prince

here's to always looking with the heart. i raise a toast with you to our dear dear khushi and arnav.

Quote

indi52

@indi52

IF-Sizzlerz

+ 6

Posted: 8 years ago

#190

episode 353 on crooner 1.46: imperfectly perfect wedding.. page 12

shaat shomuddur tero nodir paare...

across seven sees and thirteen rivers... did the prince have to travel to find the princess's heart trapped in a box in some secret location, in the bangla fairy tales my grandma told me. it felt as though that distance and more was journeyed by asr from the moment his unloving, unscrupulous grandmother said the words and held up a picture. i saw his eyes then and i could feel him spiraling out of himself toward what heaven knows. while his bride waited, she'd told him not to be late, not on their wedding day. yet he had to go away.

i usually avoid journey as a metaphor for i feel it is overused. but last week what arnav singh raizada went on was an epic journey, no less. one he was pretty much pushed into, and where for a while i feared for him as i had the night he and khushi had a terrible row when he realised she'd left because she was waiting for the contract to end. "tum aise hone dogi, khushi?" you'll let our marriage end just like that? i can still hear the agony in his voice, the numbing pain.

on thursday, as he screamed into the night and broke furniture, i worried that his customary reflex: anger, would again destroy everything. yet one part of me held firmly on to hope: no, it said, this time he will find a way out, khushi is too much in him to just turn away from, no matter how shattering the revelations before him, and even if it is about his mother. he was in her garden and i prayed she would show him the way.

she did. he heard her. his mother's memory and words played gently through his mind, calming him, taking away all horror and pain, bringing him back from the first part of his journey which took him to the edge of disaster, he felt himself unlock and return. milestone.

as priya said, when he thinks, he never goes wrong. he was on the brink, but love helped him come back and navigate right. his mother's love for him. his love for his mother.

and once he took the path, the crossings became easier, yes, many rivers and seas, but all pointing in the same direction: love, life, khushi. and the ocean rushed toward its shore. in those fairytales the prince rescues the princess's heart, but here she was the keeper of his heart, and that's what the path showed him.

i was fascinated by this travel through space and time within. the power of an emotion that guides you from miles and miles away. he could sense her waiting. he could feel her love, her longing, her trust. it brought him back from the moment where trust was broken in his life. by the action of a parent, a father, the one in whom a child puts maximum faith. what a completely broken place he had inside him. one he'd never spent time looking at or mourning, because he a boy of 14 had to get on with it, "chhota tha, par himmat dikhai maine."

then the princess touched that broken place with her heart.

"hum bhi aapse i love you dammit," the culmination of so many clashes, quarrels, attraction, rejection, hurt, pain, utter madness, tenderness, farq padna, chot, doubting, hating, aching, oh endless feelings, but never ever indifference. for it was always love. even the nafrat was muhabbat, nothing else.

the tale of this journey was told with skill and passion by the writers of dialogue and screenplay, by the directors, and by the actors. an awkwardly posed remarriage became vital to story and character growth, and therefore completely meaningful. for me, at least. i was never comfortable about a second marriage. it felt wrong. but i let it roll, thinking to myself, ipk has always found interesting solutions, let's see what it brings me to this time. so they made a mainstream shadi, into a most hatke one. now what do you say to guys like this. thank you, i suppose.

"khushi aaj mein sirf yahan tumhare vajah se khadah hoon, jahan dard, dhokha, aur nafrat ke alawa aur kuch nahin."

oh, that line could be looked at in so many ways. as he stepped away from her touch, the princess, for just a moment, feared; and began to falter. but out he reached as he always had: to hold her, save her, cherish her. as she looked, so did i into his eyes. his eyes lost their ice and grew warm, they said so much to her you got lost in a conversation of love, feeling almost that funny word from my childhood: de trop. she replied with all her heart.

"khushi, tumne mujhe aaj yahan khada kar ke mere saare sawaalon ke jawab de diye."

"i'm sorry khushi, aane me thodi der ho gai, par aana toh tha..."

then a married man said to his wife:

"khushhi, main tumse shadi karna chahta hoon, apne zindagi ka har pal tumhare saath bitana chahta hoon."

my insides didn't protest and say, how come he's saying that to her now, he's already her pati. because i'd felt the journey, and i knew it had brought him to a completely new place. he was standing at a spot where perhaps khushi stood the night of her submission. when she felt her vishwas in him and that became bigger than her belief in socially approved conduct.

he was now at a place where he knew his greatest truth. no it wasn't the truth that broke him, but the new one that restored him, which urged him to leave his past behind and walk ahead into the future:

"sab se bada sach yeh hai ki main khushi se pyaar karta hoon."

"kaha that na jee nahin paaoonga tumhare bina."

and so arnav told khushi something he never had in so many words. and he said it as a young man who has not only fallen in love, but has begun to understand what love is. milestone.

brave and righteous that he is, he wouldn't have run away from this marriage, not after everything, but it is a testament to the power of khushi's and his clear pure feeling that he felt its draw, realised the undeniable nature of it, sensed this was the way out of pain and past and let himself be propelled toward tomorrow and its promise. he said all this in those few simple words from his dil. he asked his wife to marry him. this time for himself, not for di, not for social custom, not for maa, not even for khushi.

this time he asked for khushi for himself. perhaps for the first time ever asking for something just for himself.

when his venom spewing grandmother stopped him, he told her of his mother's lesson about roses and thorns, he had understood it only today. milestone. this will lead him into the future, looking to nurture rather than ruin. he consciously stepped onto this path, he will learn slowly, but as long as the direction is right, he will surely get there.

the mention of roses brought to mind a day that khushi, lovely in red, stood poring over rose buds musing that soon when they'd bloom and di's child will also arrive. actually, on the same day arrived dadi, ready to oust khushi and set her descendants' world "right." and today as she loses power and khushi is given the place she more than deserves, roses again show the way. beautiful, isn't it?

a strange thought, is khushi going to be the one who'll take care of arnav the way his mother did, a sort of maternal strain in a wife's love? will she be the new gardener in his life? i know i'm not saying this well, but it's as though his mother knows her son has found one that can tend to him with as much devotion and wisdom and so she shows the way. i'm getting carried away, but it is a stirring thought.

into the brave new world he walked in further and told his dadi, your son is to blame for everything, for he was married with two children. he cheated two women who didn't know the truth. i was delighted to hear the bald, simple, matter of fact words. it was said as it is minus frills, and one of the most "male" characters struck fearlessly at the root of pretense and semantics that keeps our male dominated society rabid and strong. bravo, arnav singh raizada, i feel like dedicating the whole of kipling's "if" to you. my most precious poem since childhood.

khushi was beautiful in her steadfast faith. her love had come to her and submitted without condition. but her quiet taking in of various nuances said, she knew her arnavji better than you thought. she knew this was a new path for him, and it would take all take time. but i take heart from steinbeck's words:

"i believe a strong woman may be stronger than a man, particularly if she happens to have love in her heart. i guess a loving woman is indestructible."

khushi kumari gupta singh raizada got her pheras. on the night of their wedding as the winds tore through the skies, the temple bells swung hazardously, the havan kund fire glowed fierce, and devi maiya looked on, khushi stared terrified and shattered at arnav as he tied her mangalsutra, put her sindoor. he never looked at her, not once. today, she sat absorbed in prayers, happy and contented and her man couldn't take his eyes off her. as priya said, his hands loosely joined, he didn't believe in the customs, but he believed in her and her belief. is this love or what.

arnav had found his home, it was khushi. only khushi, he didn't need anything else.

and so it was that we went on to a happy griha pravesh; with a just a little nastiness from mamiji, a little kala tika, to give slip to buri nazar 😆. i mean what's a raizada function without barbs and backbiting by mamiji. but this time payal spoke up. delightful, so the cat returned her tongue finally. naaniji, the just, the loving, the ultimate in nayi soch welcomed them in. and then he carried her over the threshold toward their new life.

"all journeys eventually end in the same place, home." ~~~~ chris geiger

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