Sit tight. Because what you’re about to read is a tale so fantastical it’ll leave you alternately reeling and hooting. If owls (and diaper-clad chickens) are your thing, and if you enjoy intrigue and romance (and also a spot of comedy, intentioned or not), you’ve come to the right place.
But first, a disclaimer. Any resemblance in this story to old or current TV fare is purely coincidental and should not be misconstrued as mischief (punishable by hard labor on a treeless and TV-less island). If there’s any mischief at all, you’ll find it in this extremely tall tale, all eighty-two episodes of it. And now we begin with Episode 1.
A strange thing happened to me in May. And it’s got nothing to do with the six new dramas that began airing that month. (It has, however, affected how I watch those dramas.)
I’ve become a face watcher. Specifically male faces. Specifically actors’ faces. I lean close and stare. I study every inch; I check even the earlobes. And then I lean back and announce my verdict to the lizards in my room. (Well, to the remaining two whose reptilian hearts overflow with pity for me.) Triumphantly, because I have a point to prove, I say aloud:
“Close enough but not quite. He’s still fairer.”
As if we really need an introduction. Our lovebirds lived happily ever after about says it all. With three adorable rugrats no less. And not in a poor house, either. Just not in his mother’s house. JW gets his memory back and more. And we get a classic ending to beat all endings. And after twenty episodes, I give the Secret Garden its final personal rating, 8 out of 10, which places it at the same pedestal as the previous classics such as Coffee Prince First Shop and My Girl.
We don’t see much of romantic love in these two episodes, but that’s okay because we see a different kind of love. A love between parents and offspring – a love where one parent sacrifices his life for somebody else’s kid, and a love of a mother for the very kid, however misguided it may be, brings once a seemingly indomitable force to her knees.
Being stuck in an elevator for the second time in 13 years brings back the partial memory for JW, while RI hears from his mother, what JW is beginning to suspect, that they lost someone “precious” that fateful day.
Christmas is for celebration of love, and we are certainly blessed this season in more ways than one. While I was slumbering away in the festivities of this Christmas, our two lovebirds were busy going from precarious to a sure thing in little less than four episodes.
When I last saw them, which seems like a lifetime ago (I am told that too many screaming kids and too much eggnog can do that to anybody), our lovebirds were sweating away in the evil witch of the West’s abode. Based on the subsequent sequence of events, the chasm between them appears to grow deeper and their parting almost inevitable. But thanks to the most unlikely fairy godmother and even more improbable of a bodyguard, they become, at least in their minds, a bona fide couple that we have all been waiting for.
Given their newly but ethereally cemented bond, starting their journey even in the witch’s presence doesn’t thwart my fingers from dancing on my laptop’s keyboard. Yeah, I know, my fingers need to get a life.