"Ab dikh raha hai?" , said he, with a glint in his eyes and lips pursed. Hot, impatient, bothered by her nonchalance.
"Tumhare liye hai", he gruffly reiterated, practically thrusting the gift into her hand, having had enough of sweetness.
"Humein nahi chahi..", she averted her eyes and refused the gift. he didn't let her complete.
"Khushi ye tumhare liye hai. Take it", that brusque voice, a certain dominance. Before she entered his life, except maybe for his di, everyone else simply listened to him. He got his way. She came and challenged it all.
Without another word, not meeting his gaze, she took the gift and unwrapped a red saree. His color, he had brought for her. She does not want it, even though he looked at her opening the gift with the most tender tentative hint of a hopeful smile. killer look.
"but why", he persisted, in that impossibly uniquely Raizada accent of his. How many times will she thwart his gift giving efforts and how many times will he cause me to loose track of what I am writing because of his irresistible expressions? 😆 😆 every time you loose track, ladki, you get a little closer to hamesha and one day it is yours.
He has not left her any option, he says. He brought it, he chose it, it's his favourite color (a thought that makes me weak in the knees), it's for her, then why doesn't she like it? An explosion of passion, and I know I sound filmy, overwhelms my senses thinking of the man shrouded in black, grays and dull browns, but loving the color red. lovely thought... not filmi, insightful. in him were always all the colours you thought there wasn't...
And we know its effect on him. She wore a red saree and he couldn't take his eyes off her. That day the universe had for the first time burst into a song we love. He saw her again in red, surrounded by fluttering flames of diyas and went aflame himself. In a lonely hut, a dash of red across his cheek, and a dash of red in the revealing choli she wore, only meant for his eyes, and his eyes and touch all spoke of desire and love.
He moved forward, she stepped backwards, cornering her against the wall, door, am not sure, can't concentrate you see..
"tum aise mana nahi kar sakti. pehno ise", he commands, in a voice most intimate and imperial. She looks flustered and absolutely fetching in her green dress, aggressive, yet all feminine.
He remembers NK's advice. Be sweet, and so the diabetic man tries. He who is not allowed sugar, but is in love with the girl who lives on jilebis, must keep his temper in check. Actually NK had suggested he address her as baby or sweetheart. Baby, doesn't seem ASR like to me, but during this wooing back if he called her sweetheart or any endearment for that matter, my heart might not have been able to handle it. But then again, pagal main, when those lips utter the sounds that form the word Khushi they already manage to invoke all sorts of wild feelings in me. no one says "khushi" quite like him... the kh seems to brush against the heart and explode. haaah filmi filmi.
"Khushi main tumhe ye pehne hue dekhna chahta hun", his lips come together in a pout, a thick softening timber in his tone. For second I think even he had those unmentionable bure khayal that we keep having, on what he might do if she came before him in this red saree that he chose for her. 😆 😆 he did, i have no doubt.
He steps back, giving her space, saree held out. And she refuses. "Why", he questions her, his brows furrowing, forehead wrinkling. Look at me and answer me.. Why can't you smile? It's all about her Khushi because she is his Khushi.
Why did she have to say such senseless almost cruel sounding words. What more does he have to do to make her happy dammit? Okay aarwen lambi saas andar lo.. Aur kaan se rua phekna band karo..
"kisi ne nahi pehni", through gritted teeth. Suppressed rage, sarcastic humor. No more mr nice guy listening to NK's advice. He'll handle it. You go ASR! Daudti hui tumhare baho mein aayegi, pati jo ho.. 😆 😆 😆 asr needs to read our takes sometime.
"..ye sab ka koi matlab nai hai.." .. Those words from diwali night.. Khushi is telling her devi maiyya that.. So everyone is sad then how can Khushi be happy.. But does that mean she has to hurt him too? And why not tell him all this? Does he not deserve to know? And what the?! If this is not anger then what is? But I take this scene as a lesson, next time I am angry with my Arnavji I will tell him I am angry and not say such inane things like "am just sad not angry". Maybe he will throw hot tea at me.. Can't wait to see..
Khushi's well intentioned interference, too cheerful simplistic approach to solving Payal and Akash's problem was again a bad decision. Why is our heroine constantly making these mistakes in the choices she makes?
Payal had an absolutely wonderful dialogue. "hum Payal bhi hai", She is not just Khushi's sister, but her own person. payal and akash, two good actors... how they wasted an opportunity. i really liked this character and wondered how she would develop.
He moodily walks down the stairs taking quick purposeful steps, missing his office, and things he understands, which are not as whimsical as a roothi hui wife. He had stood right here and watched her smile with all the other ladies as they danced and did something quite crazy. He had decided to not yell that day, and today when he sees her downcast, he forgets his frustration, and wants to try again.
"ye jo lau hai na its truly blind", NK is right only partially. It's the acting that makes me lau this perfectly imperfect ASR and also lau the crass new Punjabi phadoo actor. oh riight NK, 😆 wasn't talking about my love, but ASR and Khushi's love.. forgot for a second there dammit..
I am digressing because like khushi am resolutely looking away from the sad parts. Anjali and her caring nani, payal and all her worries. Hopeless muddle of storylines which actually never reach a satisfactory conclusion.
Atleast now ASR is rude and not actually asking for NK's advice. He even mutters something like Khushi irritates him the whole day and on top of that NK. However, ASR does not walk away, maybe a part of him is having fun in this wooing. The chase excites and thrills his instincts and of course the reward is her love which would could only be completely fulfilling.
Though NK's dialogues were a bit too much wannabe-funny, the idea itself for the last few minutes of the 300th episode of IPK was quite entertaining.
"wo mere arms mein thi".. Notice no bahon mein.. That is solely for his patni to be said in the most intimate husky whisper. mmm, yes yes yes... but even arms has one viewer falling flat.
What struck me was he reminisced the supposedly bad times, and even those brought a smile on his face. The bitterness has all been swept away by an avalanche of love , and what remains is only sparkling happy memories. Does not love do exactly this? Where whenever you look back you end up fondly remembering the bad and the good, and all of it are memories you cherish.
Also he not just admitted how dreadful he had been towards her, in some cases like that guesthouse he even exaggerated his intent. Of course it made for a more compelling story, but it also showed he accepted and knew where he was wrong.
I enjoyed the fact that he continued with the theme and only divulged the lighter anecdotes for Khushi. The others are a treasured secret only between the two. Like he had once said in a delightful husky whisper, "kisiko janane ki zarurat nahi jab hum akele hote hai kya karte hai". I like it that way. We get to see it of course and sometimes the lucky OP. that's it.
"pagalpan aur madness.." .. Lovely words, but this last voice over not needed, and neither was that besotted smile needed. Already there are moments when the flawless aloof man is turning too tame. daiyya ho.. Don't want him to lose the attitude or the bluetooth or the SUV or the edge or the anger. i had huge trouble with this last stated cutesie pie loving... asr doesn't love like that.
There was already the hint of magic in the air, a heralding of the eventful delightful heady days of romance to come. Of course part of the magic got created when the sorcerer decided to look lean, immaculate, crisply dressed, hair gelled, fresh and chiseled with a stubble the perfect length. Fair maidenwas all over ready for some besharmi?
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