an
episode of awareness and extreme denial. he can sense her as he steps
in trough the doors, even though he is in a foul mood. that singhania
file is missing, and so is someone from his life because he has
expressly told her to go away and never come back, ever. yet he knows
she's around, like that day just before janmashtami. in episode 63 we
saw this, here's a bit of that sequence:
the
moment he walks in... do me so do, la la la la... and a waft of breeze rising.
he feels it...
mehsoos is not in a mood to be messed with either. an interlude between the two, while standing by themselves. this is awareness, a gift in itself; and it comes wrapped with music and air.
today, on bhai dooj, a repeat of this mehsoos of each other. both now have sworn never to see the others face. but really, there's no need for any of the five senses, when the sixth one is so alive and super sharp. does this really happen i find myself asking? have to say, may be not every time, but often enough it does tend to when you're into another person in a huge way. well, perhaps not the wind and piano notes, but that going still, feeling someone's around... yes, that one.
after yelling at the hapless servant, (oh this politically incorrect, incorrigible brusque boy in brown suit, red tika, and bad mood, now why is it that even those who get regularly shouted at can't bring themselves to hate him roundly), he goes off to look for his file, while she perches precariously atop a stool (the same one from which he fell?) looking for oil for her lamp. instead they find each other... the instinct seems to know what you ought to be looking for.
he strides into the kitchen, still grumbling and shouting, "di!! meri singhania wali file...
and...
ting ting ting tong... there she si in pink suit on a stool in his kitchen but now falling.
nonplussed, he stares at her.
she comes down toward him and without pause or thought his arms rise up and reach out to catch her. he can't let her fall on the floor, he won't let her get hit by a car, he can't let her die in a collapsing building, he won't let anyone lay a hand on her, he can't let her be wounded and alone, he has to be there to catch her. if he's dropped her quite callously and uncondonably once on purpose, he did make sure she landed on cases that broke her fall. but this landing is just so much more preferable.
dupatta does its floaty thing.
and look how cutely she sits there perched on his arms, her lissome arms securely around his neck.
they both seem to get a bit lost in each other... surprise, shock, and that other thing that's always there when they're together.
she remembers the shakal dekhni hai aaj ke baad thing. don't want to see your face after today, don't want to talk to you...
yet...
"tum yahan kya kar rahi ho?" what are you doing here? he's rough, angry. since day break he's been struggling with the emptiness within. she was in his morning dream... going away, he'd woken up with her name on his lips and maybe a vacuum in his heart. but he wasn't prepared to go into all that heart stuff. instead, he'd summoned gussa to deal with the problem, and like aladdin's good genie, gussa was prepared top do anything for the young master. perhaps because he knew he was good of heart, his bark much worse than his bite. but please, what is this heart talk again. enough!
suddenly a thought connected. asr reminded me of the marvel heroes i was reading about today, the super heroes which appealed much to the new audiences of the seventies and eighties for they had human frailties and failings, unlike the 100 percent perfecto superheroes of the previous generation. wasn't asr a bit like that? an archetype, a hero sort in some ways... but with his weaknesses, his achilles' heels, almost.
"wo lavanya ji..." she began haltingly, trying to extricate herself from all the feelings. easy to say uyou'd give anything not to see tehe man, but what if you do see him... have you prepared for that?
"maine kaha tha na apni shakal mat dikhana..." hadn't i told you not to show your face? he is in one nasty mood, and today it's offensive all the way from him. yesterday she'd been in this combative frame of mind when he reached the temple, but today he was in full attack mode.
"just get lost." mean, cutting.
"aap hume chhorenge tabhi toh hum..." if you leave me, only then it's possible, she archly points out to him, with a return spark of rage. he holds her firmly, even though there's no need to. if she is so intolerable, what's the need for this? shouldn't he have just let her go once the saving was done?
he realises she has a point.
this time he doesn't drop her, just dumps her unceremoniously.
the battle of words continues... to... fro... strike one... strike two... no break in rhythm.
"tum yahan aayi kyun..." why have you come here?
i have no desire to show you my face... she says witheringhly.
and yet here you are in my house, he comes back, standing right in front of me. yesterday you said you wouldn't come to this house, now what's happened. "jitni baar iss ghar se bahar nikalo... tum wapas aa hi jaati ho" no matter how many times you're thrown out of this house, you find your way back. he is now getting more and more insulting.
dekhiye... listen here, she starts. but who'll let her finish. this is break all rules of war combat.
"ab kya stoopid bahana hai tumhare paas..." now what stupid excuse do you have... love the easy city language and the youthful turn of phrase. of course the "stoopid," that's exactly how i say it too.
"kabhi lavanya ne bulaya, kabhi di ne bulaya... sab jhoot," sometimes lavanya has called, sometimes di, all lies. you must have made up something to come.
the gall of the man. she is angry.
if you don't want to hear the answer why ask a question? she returns sharply.
very spouse sort of convoluted going nowhere argument...nice.
then the money thing enters, how could it not. it is asr after all, to him women are gold diggers who go about breaking homes, well not all, but certainly the ones who seem to have this crazy hold over you... don't think you can get more money out of this house.
a threatening advance, she retreats, finger pointing harshly at her, thrust forward jaw, the works. gah, that "khushi?" he woke up with still grating somewhere. how could this girl be so important. a fear of loss in him at the mere thought of never seeing her. how could this be! he'll show her.
"aap har baat paiso pe..." why do you take everything to money? "kyunki main janta ho ki tum..." because i know that you are -
"chhotey!" di cuts in, sharp, angry. he has to listen. so di had to really scold bro on bhai dooj, alas.
khushiji isn't taking any money. he's shocked.contrite even?
khushi is giving tuitions, she is not employed by the raizadas, just helping out, on the condition there's no money involved. di leaves him looking chastened. khushi is ready to go too, but,
"khushi, ruko mujhe tumse kuch baat karni hai," khsuhi, wait i want to talk to you. matter of habit, she pretends not to have heard and moves ahead, pushing him a bit... she seems to always do that. he's irritated, she's too.
"enough!... hum jab bhi baat karte hain yahi hota hai... issliye ab se na main tumse kuch baat karoonga, na tum mijhse koi baat karogi," whenever we talk this is what happens, so from now on, neither will i talk to you, nor you to me.
"theek hai... " agrees khushi. you stay away from me, it'll be good for me.
and so it is that khushi and asr strike yet another deal. one that will be kept or broken who knows. the tycoon and the jhalli, and the business of love, sorry hate, goes on. but what to do about that wretched awareness.
one of my favourite songs by mohit chauhan and a r rahman, it reminds me so much of these two. and it is about the feeling, that awareness, that mehsoos of each other. "paas mere saath mere," near me, with me, very ipk words, remember when he goes to bring her back home? jitna mehsoos karoon tumko, utna hi pa bhi loon. the more i feel you, the more i get you/receive you. sounds like a song written for asr and khushi.
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