Originally posted by: anabrissa
in the silence, something seeped into him and all he
could do was be its captive. his hands moved without volition, almost as though
pulled by a magnet toward her face. he had no idea what he was doing, just that
he had to do this. for she had touched him already. with her tear.👏👏👏
episode 28
"touch has memory."
~~~ john keats ~~~
a sense was awakened today. touch. physical, emotional, in the gut, in the
heart. he thrust her back against a huge drum of some sort, wanting to calm
her, and himself perhaps too. the searing storm had entered both, and swirled
dangerously. he had no idea things were in such a state, he said. as he watched, her face spoke fire, anger, transiting to pain and
surprisingly almost a plea for mercy; (perfect acting from Sanaya really felt that she was transiting from fire, anger to pain) he hadn't realised how hard he was
holding her wrist. a tear formed and fell.
all through played rabba vey in the layer beyond, speaking of connection beyond
words beyond logic beyond the limits of our reality, even when there was anger,
when everything hurt, there was no looking back.
sight had made the crack in the fortress wall, sound of her name revealed how
hard it had hit, now touch smashed a rampart.👏 beautiful direction and
feel for the moment. tremulous, strains of rabba vey played on.
a glistening pearl on his hand. then
another. like his first, then second call: khushi.
as though first drops of rain on parched earth.
(wow beautiful analogy, made me think of a
song : a drop in the ocean, a change in the weather ... it's like wishing
for rain as I stand in the desert but I'm holding you closer than most cos you
are my heaven) and they flooded his heart. stronger than an ocean,
swifter than the rain👏👏👏. he freed her wrist and grappled with unknown feelings.
those tears, what were they doing to him. his eyes wouldn't, couldn't leave her
face.
before he could pull himself together, she passed out. limp, and trusting in
his arms. concern and bafflement...
and so it was that his gaze fell on a stray strand
of hair and a desire he couldn't understand or overcome took over.
to touch. 👏
to feel that hair and tuck it behind that ear, to stroke a cheek, and then
another? why, asr, why? he had no answer. he wasn't even thinking. she had let
go on him, and he just wanted to be there with her. tender, loving, gentle,
sweet, just feeling her innocent skin against his. something beyond him pulled
him and kept him there. 👏
"see how she leans her cheek upon
her hand!
o that i were a glove upon that hand,
that i might touch that cheek!"
~~~ romeo's soliloquy, william shakespeare
he lifted his hand and did as
he felt compelled to. i felt my breath stay still as this most intoxicating
sequence unfolded. (felt the same I was
breathless)
later he would pick her up in his arms, cradle her
like a child, something precious,❤️ and
take her to his suv, then her home. there, he'd be greeted by a sister's wrath (Payal was amazing here really loved this trait of hers,
the protective sister's wrath), and an aunt's curses; insulted, shown
the door. yet all he'd know is that she held on to
his shirt, that he had to be gentle with her, that he couldn't just
leave without knowing she was alright. he'd notice his finger marks on her
wrist, and the cut on the other, her blood, red, deep, alive in that ugly gash.
(the way Payal refused to let him touch her,
emplying that he has no Haq on her, brilliant)
he'd been responsible for that too.
someone called shyam would make him wonder was he thinking this
is a man important to her? did he not like it? (there's
a hint of jealousy here
It seems someone else in her life has more Haq on her as Ipoona wrote) in the car, a
broken bangle, she'd left behind a memory for him, and then he'd see the wound
on his palm. his blood, red, deep, alive. had their blood touched?
a dupatta once had billowed with abandon and caressed his face, now it streamed
out and marked memories, catching the tale in its folds. i listened,
captivated. the makers of this story had a
strange passion to tell it well, take it deeper than the idiot box's
measurements and reach. their simple devices to cross into another dimension,
one beyond the senses five: a churi, a dupatta, a jalebi, a couch.. among them
the dupatta so elegant, so eloquent. romantic, unheeding of good sense, going
to forbidden places and touching eternity whenever it wished.👏
the episode was ballet like 👏👏👏, musical, and a song
just kept coming to me. listen to it while you read, might be more fun.
have Decided to post my comment here for a change, In purple brilliant, in blue some thoughts.
So
our demzel in distress (fiona) was saved from the crumbling dungeon and the rakshush
(shrek without the greenish ugly side😉), the ogre who scares the adults and devours the children😆, turned out to
be a rajkumar, a prince charming. The
monster, the anti - hero who loves the solitude in his swamp, was in fact the saviour,
a braveheart whose harshness is only a wall, a self defence system, and our
princess turned out to be a resourceful lioness who can take care of herself
and doesn't need the help of so called heroes like Robin hood as she kicked
sherwood's guys asses (one of the most hilarious scenes in shrek😆), and she herself has an ogress side (as khushi is in so
many ways a mini asr😉). Then ofc we have the friendly, talkative and helpful
Donkey (NK😆) who managed to bring Shrek and Fiona closer. Have I forgotten
someone ? well every tale has a villain here it's lord Farquaad (shyam🤢😡).
If you remember in the first scene we see lord Farquaad bits by bits, his legs
then his hands then his head and we think ohh ... he looks strong, almighty, then
... we see his full length😲 ... Surprise Oh, oh! he's tiny, heartless, shabby and greedy
(shyam was shown as a gentleman, chivalrous, kindhearted and brave then we discovered
slowly, bits by bits, episode by episode, with small details and hints that he
is the real rakshush, the tiny, heartless, shabby and gready monster.😡
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