What is as significant to the nation’s everyday life, that is comparable to Anil Kumble’s priceless Test career or Sadhvi Pragya’s “How did so few die in Malegaon” and other taped mumbles? You guessed right. Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi.
India’s most loved (and hated) daily soap comes to a close on November 6th, bringing an abrupt (what am I saying?!) end to a tumultuous saga of science-defying survival (read Baa), the 20-year leaps (which essentially kept the soap alive as viewers huffed and puffed for new faces), the timeless love story of the protagonists Mihir and Tulsi which is now television’s official reply to Romeo and Juliet, with focused family responsibilities in this case (as they never found the time to actually hang out in parks, cinema halls or daaru addas) and the warring sons who were competing for not just the bragging rights to be the numero uno recipients of Tulsi’s eternal motherhood, but also longer hair and tactically motivated piercings among other things.
The loving bahus (who were apparently oozing enough sex appeal to make Mallika Sherawat take notice and Kareena Kapoor take some more Ponds Body Lotion), the insanely provocative sounds of agitated thunder during a potential “key moment” that had the power to scare off Mother Nature herself, followed up with split-second screenshots of all characters present in the scene, dutifully dallying away at the shock revelation of either a hidden fact or a historically unproven conundrum was quintessential of Kyunki. Oh, those days.
Along with these, certain sights in households across the country will also come to a close unless and until a new Mihir-Tulsi appear on the horizon. The dumbstruck spoonful-of-food-in-hand scene, the mercilessly overcooked chapattis that would make you hurl abuses at Tulsi and gang wholeheartedly (and also make you wonder whether her troubles in the following episode, or every episode for that matter, were a resultant of your black magic skills in retaliation of freshly-cooked black chapattis), the husband-at-doorstep scenes where the wife would give an understandably logical excuse of “Arey baba, break ho tab darwaza kholoon, na?”and the actual in-fighting over the undervalued TV remote. Feel free to add your own.
So here’s a heartfelt goodbye to the cast and crew of Kyunki and while I can confidently state that you have been an immense inspiration to all Indians, young and old, there is no guarantee that you will be missed.
Kyunki...we’ve had enough.
Image courtesy: Bollywood Pictures Online
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