Celebrating Teri Meri - by Indrani robbins his face was averted, still. a breeze lifted a few strands of hair, he seemed to be waiting for a sign. it came, she heard the unexpected applause and turned, the light shone on her startled eyes. the song with heart beats at its base entered in triumph... dhak dhak dhakdhak, under the hey hey i could hear the repeated pulse.. a throbbing in it. he turned his face toward her, what oh what was he saying with that expression, those glittering unmoving eyes. i had never seen that look before. quiet, dark, intense, concentrated, and completely giving. his gaze seemed to travel the distance separating them and caught her in a warm embrace... i am here it said. it seemed to say more... theres nowhere else id rather be. i am here... hamesha. for you. teri meri meri teri. why did i feel this? was this the intention of the director, the actor, or was i over reacting, as always a little goofy around baruns asr? but i knew it was really as i saw it.. as it felt. arnav singh raizada could never stand by and watch while she was in trouble of any sort... unless of course he was creating it himself, because maybe his instincts always knew this girl with a funny plait was trouble in all caps. the very first time they laid eyes on each other, there had been recognition of some kind. his arms had reached out instinctively to catch her, a stranger that night of sheesh mahal. and each time then onward, hed been there to protect, to save, to hold, to never let her fall. he had let her drop below from his office one time though, but the conversation leading to that moment had a lot to do with it, and he had made sure she had a soft landing... not that that made it ok... but even the leaving of her hand was really in some ways an indication of this womans power over him... how we writhe and try to free ourselves when we first feel this power of another over us. as though it will swamp us, wed submerge... die. the ego cant take it, it fights back... it needs to flee to a safe place, fearing a complete take over, quaking at the thought of being utterly vulnerable, helpless before another. we draw away instinctively, we defend with every weapon we have... indifference, anger, ridicule, outright offence. love is akin to hate comes into play and a million mills and boons get written... we laugh at these silly books, never realising it has a sound idea at its core. the love that we so idealise and want, interestingly, when it comes, we are more often than not terrified of its grasp on us. our gut senses danger and hits out. till we let down our guard, let it in and are willing to surrender to it. completely. and perhaps with that one act of submission we make the animal and present, spiritual... transcendent. the sensuous, sublime. she would reach this point in a darkened farm house one night, alone with him. but he seemed to be doing so right now, in front of the whole world, on stage, under a spotlight. all he can see though is her... trouble in her eyes. and he is here in complete submission to a feeling. so it seemed to me.
Posted on: Fri, 23 Jan 2015 02:55:03 +0000