This week on Naagin 3: Saas sprinkles gomutra on already pure and pious bahu
Anita Hassnandani in and as Naagin. Like a clogged drain that spews more gunk just when you thought it couldn’t possibly have more filth to offer, Naagin and her happy mandir friends were back on telly over the weekend. Served on a garish golden dish this time was an assortment of a black face, Karishma Tanna tutorial classes on ugly crying, sexy dancing with a naagin, sheikh-from-Dubai accent and a singular, lonely AirPod. This week, the procrastinating naagin continues on her mission to kill the boys who tried to rape her. We thought she took one out with her deadly tongue action last week but he was merely comatose. And considering how frequently characters fall in and out of coma, he is resurrected by the end of episode four. Anyway, the naagin arms herself with a new net sari and an entire bottle of strobing liquid on her cheeks, to ruin the Tyag Ki Murti and her turd-husband-to-be’s haldi party. She wants to give the turd a death fit for Joffrey Baratheon and to do that she will... let him feel her up...uh... twerk against him on the dance floor...mmm...and let him sniff her hair? What kinda revenge is this? Death by seduction? (Nice name for a donut though) Simple miss TKM decides the twerking, the rubbing and the sniffing is all cool as long has he is not actually doing the sex with paraai aurats. ‘Sirf dance hi toh karrae hain,’ she thinks to her self. The only good boi in this toilet full of turds is a man whose angelic conscience rests in this angelic white AirPod. When not feeding Fanta to tired elderly women, he is pulling his turd brother and his gyrating pelvis away from naagins, all with the constant support of his AirPod that forever rests in his ear. But imagine the lonely life of the AirPod. Like the naagin out to avenge the murder of her boyfriend, the AirPod was also separated from its other half. Where are the icchadhari AirPods of the world? Where are the icchadhari socks?
Poor thing, alone in a big, bad universe, collecting ear wax. Even the naagin has an icchadhari naag friend. This naag could have turned into Brad Pitt if he wanted to but he decided to look like your Allahabad wale phoophaji for some reason. He wears half shirts—that my dad proclaimed are ‘too old fashioned’ in 2003— over his serpent body and to be fair, even Victoria Beckham wouldn’t be able to rock this outfit.
Because I have run out of ways to gently start talking about yet another weird thing I saw on the show, I also saw a saas sprinkling gomutra on her bahus. She later returns with a black face and body to save her house from evil spirits while looking like one herself. In a real world, would not such a person need help? This is supposed to be a rich family with all the money in the world to buy lehengas and stuff but not a doctor for this poor woman? Just look at the state of her:
