Posted:
it was a simple love.
why it should be felt was always hard to decipher and describe in mere words. it was just there and you wouldn't have it any other way.
it was a feeling you got at a certain hour of the day that made you a bit breathless, sometimes a little anxious, but you always wanted it to come, and you thought it would never go away. for me, that hour was 12 midnight... the witching hour if i am to recall something read in college.
but really it was the bewitching hour.
first telecast of the day's episode of iss pyaar ko kya naam doon? in singapore. i'd stay up no matter what, the room darkened as everyone slept, but i had to catch the show.
who goes crazy about a hindi serial? i no longer need to ask that question, because i know. but it was the best kind of crazy really. it made you feel, it made you think, it made you write, it made you connect... and it let you break free.
sometimes of yourself. your arid notions of what life is or isn't, of what love must or mustn't be.
it made you fall... so very beautifully.
when it was taken from me, i couldn't believe it. impermanence, etc., other philosophical thoughts i toyed with... but nothing would assuage the hurt... nothing would fill the gaping hole in my heart.
my voice choked whenever i thought, this is it.
even though so much had been robbed of the pristineness of iss pyaar ko kya naam doon? even then.
for it was untouched at some level, always pristine. forever pure.
a thing i loved so simply and without prejudice.
in a desperate bid to cope, i turned to a brave thread that said, beginning the monday after episode 398, we start watching the show again right from the top. blast from the past. i went there without any resistance, tired and scarred and... and aching and riven by the battle of the last two odd months...
how many letters phone calls frenzied posts.
but they would take it from me anyway.
thanks to that thread started by doc and risha, i pretended, i sort of stayed sane, i said i can do it, let's be mature, etc., and other things.
what i could never say was it's only a show.
i couldn't.
i didn't even try to.
it was what it was and it meant what it did.
i have constantly said, "i" through this post, though i know it was really a tale of many of us. many many. some of them watch ipk with me on that thread. and as we go deeper into the tale, somehow the suffering only increases. funny. every now and then the "how could they do this" feeling comes out of nowhere and blows a dry wretched storm across the thread.
and sometimes we go nuts writing poetry about hate. crazy happy nuts. who could turn hate into music but a man and a woman by a pool on a beautiful night.
and pyaar? who could feel it the way they did?
or show it the way only they could?
with an evil dance after getting the laad governor all rattled and knotted with a simple dupatta fling and a "swami". swami. i am guffawing and feeling crazy and thinking silly track, but flat out sold am i on it anyway.
with a brusque "zara dekhke" or a gentle "heer" or a through gritted teeth "kyunki tum meri patni ho..." or a whispered hoarse turmoil raising "main hamesha hamesha tumse..."
i was watching 227 and he yelled "damn the kartavya!"
i felt the world go quiet around me. and a feeling rise. all i wanted to do was plead, scream, beg, yell to anyone, everyone, gul, sp i don't care who to please bring it back. bring it back to me.
i have no idea why i am posting this. just a thought. maybe you'd like to talk about something here? look forward to your feelings. happy sad mad glad whatever. and here's to yelling shouting screaming hurting dancing maddening love.
why it should be felt was always hard to decipher and describe in mere words. it was just there and you wouldn't have it any other way.
it was a feeling you got at a certain hour of the day that made you a bit breathless, sometimes a little anxious, but you always wanted it to come, and you thought it would never go away. for me, that hour was 12 midnight... the witching hour if i am to recall something read in college.
but really it was the bewitching hour.
first telecast of the day's episode of iss pyaar ko kya naam doon? in singapore. i'd stay up no matter what, the room darkened as everyone slept, but i had to catch the show.
who goes crazy about a hindi serial? i no longer need to ask that question, because i know. but it was the best kind of crazy really. it made you feel, it made you think, it made you write, it made you connect... and it let you break free.
sometimes of yourself. your arid notions of what life is or isn't, of what love must or mustn't be.
it made you fall... so very beautifully.
when it was taken from me, i couldn't believe it. impermanence, etc., other philosophical thoughts i toyed with... but nothing would assuage the hurt... nothing would fill the gaping hole in my heart.
my voice choked whenever i thought, this is it.
even though so much had been robbed of the pristineness of iss pyaar ko kya naam doon? even then.
for it was untouched at some level, always pristine. forever pure.
a thing i loved so simply and without prejudice.
in a desperate bid to cope, i turned to a brave thread that said, beginning the monday after episode 398, we start watching the show again right from the top. blast from the past. i went there without any resistance, tired and scarred and... and aching and riven by the battle of the last two odd months...
how many letters phone calls frenzied posts.
but they would take it from me anyway.
thanks to that thread started by doc and risha, i pretended, i sort of stayed sane, i said i can do it, let's be mature, etc., and other things.
what i could never say was it's only a show.
i couldn't.
i didn't even try to.
it was what it was and it meant what it did.
i have constantly said, "i" through this post, though i know it was really a tale of many of us. many many. some of them watch ipk with me on that thread. and as we go deeper into the tale, somehow the suffering only increases. funny. every now and then the "how could they do this" feeling comes out of nowhere and blows a dry wretched storm across the thread.
and sometimes we go nuts writing poetry about hate. crazy happy nuts. who could turn hate into music but a man and a woman by a pool on a beautiful night.
and pyaar? who could feel it the way they did?
or show it the way only they could?
with an evil dance after getting the laad governor all rattled and knotted with a simple dupatta fling and a "swami". swami. i am guffawing and feeling crazy and thinking silly track, but flat out sold am i on it anyway.
with a brusque "zara dekhke" or a gentle "heer" or a through gritted teeth "kyunki tum meri patni ho..." or a whispered hoarse turmoil raising "main hamesha hamesha tumse..."
i was watching 227 and he yelled "damn the kartavya!"
i felt the world go quiet around me. and a feeling rise. all i wanted to do was plead, scream, beg, yell to anyone, everyone, gul, sp i don't care who to please bring it back. bring it back to me.
i have no idea why i am posting this. just a thought. maybe you'd like to talk about something here? look forward to your feelings. happy sad mad glad whatever. and here's to yelling shouting screaming hurting dancing maddening love.
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