Yudh Week 2: Less of Amitabh Bachchan, more of a ladies' special

The lord gods of Hindi filmdom-now-dabbling-in-television heard my prayers. The storyline and pace of Yudh has picked up in the second week. Finally, it’s less of an ode to Amitabh Bachchan and bad scripting and more of an ode to the daytime soaps we old folk had watched when we were in our teens. So, what we have here is the old American soap Santa Barbara but set in Mumbai, with Amitabh as CC Capwell. Like CC, he has one legitimate offspring and one not-so legitimate. Like CC, he is surrounded by multiple wives, a floundering business empire, competitors and friends. Taruni is the feisty daughter, like Eden Capwell. Both shows are full of corporate wheeling-and-dealing, family problems, half brothers-and-sisters and a patriarch heading the entire ensemble. The differences? There’s no Cruz, Mason or sex. Also, there was no dwarf in Santa Barbara, but maybe that’s where Anurag Kashyap’s creativity can be seen. After all, only a genius would throw an imaginary, talkative dwarf into the mix. [caption id=“attachment_1634693” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  A still from tv serial Yudh.[/caption] I’m not being facetious entirely though. There is actually an awful lot in common between Santa Barbara and Yudh. Santa Barbara ended in 1993, over 20 years ago. Maybe Kashyap and the other creators didn’t think anyone of that vintage would be watching the show – but little did he know. The other thing that struck me this week is that Yudh was all about Eve and her many avatars. This show has written in practically every kind of female character possible. Which is why I’ve begun to like the show. Or maybe Yudh is like a mole that suddenly appears on your chin. You hate it in the beginning, but slowly you get used to it and perhaps even grow to love it enough to call it a beauty spot. Setting aside moles and beauty spots, here are the different character types that took Yudh over this week. Jealous housewife – Yudh’s second and current wife is as an insecure woman who does nothing other than whine, crib and then mollycoddle her son. Because god forbid a housewife can ever be actually busy managing her home and secure. Following the stereotype set out for the second wife since Snow White and The Seven Dwarves, the thorn in this woman’s side is Yudh’s daughter by his first wife. First-time-lucky wife – Sarika plays Yudh’s first wife who has got on with life, is married again, has a job and doesn’t seem to be too concerned about him and doesn’t hold any grudges. She is the paragon of virtue that acts as a contrast to the second wife. The reluctant heiress with a heart of gold – It sounds like a Barbara Cartland title, but it actually sums up Yudh’s daughter. She is independent and works as a doctor (although the only person she seems to tend to is her father. I really don’t know which hospital she works with because they seem to have a very lenient leave policy). She’s a concerned, loving, trusting woman and very reminiscent of one of my pet beagles – she’s got big eyes and unconditional love with no malice. (This is an enormous compliment coming from me.) The rudeness aimed at her by the second wife doesn’t affect her at all and she keeps saying she wants to be a doctor, rather than the CEO of her father’s empire. PR woman Friday – Yudh has only two people he trusts professionally: his friend Anand Upadhyay, and Mona, his Public Relations person. She’s attractive, wears power suits to work, is privy to all the inner secrets of the company and has Yudh’s ear. She also sorts out all Yudh’s media imbroglios without looking perturbed in the least. And has a dodgy domestic situation where a lout of a brother-in-law has suddenly made a re-appearance in her life. The subtly-lesbian media maven – There’s an editor-in-chief who, like Yudh, has a second-in-command who wears power suits and pencil skirts. She and Yudh don’t see eye to eye, but she seems to fancy Mona. Why else is she taking Mona out for a drink and tucking a tendril of Mona’s hair behind her ear and telling her that she’d love to meet her again? The long-suffering mother – Anand’s wife is constantly shown wearing kaftans, making roti and serving food to him whenever he enters the house. There is neither natural light nor joy in their home. She thinks he cares more about his work than he does for her and his son and seems generally sad. Philandering housewife – In sharp contrast to Mrs Kaftan, there’s a bored young housewife married to a billionaire who’d rather have an affair with another man (he seems to run a gym). The things we do for love – and a spot of lust. Of course such waywardness can’t be shown to be acceptable, so she’s shot (in her stomach) and bumped off. Cuckolding, as Yudh has shown us, can only lead to instant death. The sultry Maoist maiden – Now here’s a comrade who would make Mata Hari proud. She’s dusky, has kohl-lined eyes, perfectly tweezed eyebrows, doesn’t crack a smile and seems to be the sole female Maoist in a camp of about 100 men. She’s also showing signs of having taken a shine to Yudh’s son, who is kidnapped by her and her comrades. While I’m pleased by the spectrum of female characters – different compulsions, different sexual-economic-social-political positions – I’m waiting for the one female character that’s been left out: the strong matriarch. I never thought I’d miss a saas (mother-in-law) in Hindi entertainment TV, but there you have it. Let’s hope the twists and turns that Yudh takes next week will let me analyse the Myriad Moods Of The Imaginary Dwarf.