😊Last night, the CVs well and truly put the Maha into the episode and gave us twists, turns, curveballs, and such an array of emotions that it's difficult to list them forget put a name to them. Suffice to say that we got entertainment, food for thought, and for the soul. What an episode!!
Realization dawned on Paro. Of her feelings for Rudra. And of the journey she'd made in her life that had brought her to this point. Finally, she realised why she'd dreamt of Rudra without seeing him for so many years. Why she'd asked Bholenath for a husband cast in His image. It hadn't been a coincidence or an accident that she'd met Rudra - it was destined. And knowing that, how could she leave Rudra and go away? No. She had to go to Rudra.
She had to tell Rudra everything. All about the doll. All about how fate had brought them together - repeatedly. All about their relationship that had grown stronger with every meeting. She had to court him with whatever it took, persuade him to believe in them, convince him that Rudra and Parvati were meant to be together.
So, their doll clutched tight, smile on her face, stars in her eyes, wings under her feet, Paro flew to meet Rudra. And cannoned into Jija, who spilled the red powder dye just by the haveli's entrance. And turning back, Paro saw her footprints imprinted in the red, as though of a new bride entering her husband's home, and was cheered by the auspicious omen.
Paro's timing couldn't have been better. For, Rudra was being primed by fate to open his heart and mind to her. Rudra had just received a call from Sumer. News that drained the colour from his face and spasmed his brows over eyes suddenly stripped of life as he tried to discover if Paro had agreed to the wedding. He'd been expecting it, but Sumer's reply still left him sucker-punched.
Perhaps it was the sudden starvation of oxygen that unfurled the image of him preventing Sumer from wiping Paro's tears earlier in the day. He had stopped Sumer touching her then, consoling her. But what now after their marriage? Rudra closed his eyes to ward off the images flashing through his brain. Tried to walk off the churning in his gut, the agony, the restlessness. And then his eyes fell on the ribbon of sunshine by his dustbin.
He crouched and pulled it free - the cloth Paro had used to bind his cut palm. And was assaulted by memories of Paro's hand covering his while they did the Ganesh aarti, then as they did the Shiv aarti, as though they were a couple - meant to be together. Of Paro saving his life from the bullet in the mela! She had cared for him. He'd stake his life on that.
But then what had that other been? Burning her hands on the hot tava so that she wouldn't have to marry him. Such desperation. He balled up the yellow bandage and threw it from him, wishing he could bin his feelings as easily. Feelings that battered against him, weakened him so that he had to lean against the one-way mirror. But even that was no respite when Laila's voice assaulted his brain: "I can see the way you touch her," she'd accused, "become her protector, care for her. You have given her the right, Rudra, to have a right over you. I've seen in your eyes that restlessness, that yearning that you've felt for her."
The upturned chair brought no cessation to the churning. Nor slamming his hands down on the table rid him of his yearning. So he tried to talk, shout himself out of it. Squeezed her image out of his eyes, crushed her name between his teeth, repeated a litany of rejection: "No! It makes no difference to me, whether she lives or dies, whether she marries or remains a widow. Makes no difference." But even as his voice rose in a crescendo of negation, he knew it was no use. He had never been more grateful for a phone call, for the reminder of what mattered - the award ceremony.
But even there, even as his CO praised his efforts in exposing the fraudulent cross-border weddings, in which all the baraatis were fake, all Rudra could see were Paro's shock and tears as he pointed his gun at her in the middle of all that fracas. The terrorists would bring guns and take back money, and as brides, girls, VK Singh was telling the packed hall. But Rudra could only think of that one bride who lay unconscious as her brand-new groom levelled a gun at her head, happy to blow it off unless he could take her across the border. Could only think of the moment Paro had opened her eyes to see her husband dead. To see a murderer. That pivotal moment that had defined, no tarred their relationship. Indeed, made it impossible for them to have a relationship. It took Aman shaking his shoulder to rouse him from his regrets to his responsibilities.
To accept his medal and citation, and rising to the occasion, to address the audience. To tell them of the uncertainties his mission had been mired in, the aspersions that clouded its success, of the faith of his men in him no matter the outcome, of the courage that faith breathed into him. Of his gratitude to everybody who had supported and believed in him, for his men who were not amongst them today. Of the honour it was to be able to serve the country and his fellow-men. The honour, the medal that belonged just as much to the martyrs who'd laid down their lives for the country. That belonged to the BSD, this soil, this country, this motherland, and his father.
The audience was still cheering when Paro rushed in. Happiness lighting up her face and giving strength to her voice so that her "Major Saab!" rose loud and clear over the applause. Soared and reached him. Snagged his attention. Drew his unbelieving eyes. Pulled him, step by hesitant, incredulous, sleep-walking step up to her. Until he stood in front of her. His eyes filled with sadness as he waited for the dream to burst. Waited to wake to her absence, his loss.
But the flash that woke Rudra did not take away. Realization dawned that it was no dream but a real-life flesh-and-blood Paro standing there in front of him hands clasped behind her back, radiant with joy - his to believe or not.
To me, it was this part of the episode that was the most significant. A little later Paro would tell Rudra about the doll. About why she'd given him that doll on that soul-incinerating hot day fifteen years previously. How that one act had bound them to each other for a lifetime. How everything that followed had only strengthened those bonds. She would try to convince Rudra that they were meant to be together. That there was no room for fights misunderstandings between them. Because there were stronger forces at play here. The laws of nature themselves had decreed that Parvati must belong to Rudra. Therefore he must marry her.
Yet, despite all her exhortations, her explanations, her avowals of love, her promises of a marriage filled with respect, trust and love, she could not move him. Paro could not persuade him to change his mind, to turn towards her.
The only time he walked towards her was right after the speech when he saw her, unexpectedly, in the hall. Saw her when he'd thought her lost to him. A moment so powerful that his feelings overrode his control and took him to her. No reasoning, no persuasion was needed because the realization came from within.
A word about the proposal. It was a powerful moment, touching because of its painful honesty, shorn of all embroidery - just a simple, direct, ask. Even more significant because of the girl voicing it. A shy, decent girl, who had lived her life circumscribed by society, yet who was rising above that very society to lay bare her inner-most emotions in public.
The rest of the episode tickled our minds and our funny bones. As many of us predicted there were new developments in the Case of the Duplicate Wedding Dress. Mythili found the complete outfit in the corner of the yard and decided to talk to question the sole witness, Sunehri, in front of the criminal masterminds, with predictable results. That investigation is shelved for the forseeable future. The best that can be expected now is that either Samrat, Mythili or Sunehri spills the beans to Rudra. As for Sumer's marriage - that was one jugaad too far. The bride didn't agree and never mind his bootiful face.
Acting was superb. Ashish was amazing in his deft transition from emotion to emotion, swinging from bleakness to hope, joy to rage, pride to humiliation, tortured to cold, and the many shades in between. Sanaya's pitch perfect portrayal of the divinely convinced Parvati gave me goosebumps. Ananya was hilarious in her triumphant teasing of Sumer, and the actor who plays Sumer was endearing in his asinine confidence and downcast desertion. The supporting cast were equally convincing.
👏👏👏👏 for a Mahaepisode that was so much more.
P.S.- just had feedback asking for an increase in font size. If you find this too big do let me know. 😊
Edited by tvbug2011 - 10 years ago
