When Lakshminagar Knew
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Note: This one is for one of the sweetest people I know, Re Re, who requested this ages ago. I finally figured out how I wanted to write it- and I hope you like it!
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It was a well known fact that Khushi Kumari Singh Raizada, ne Gupta, was a little mad. Unlike her older cousin, Payal, Khushi was nothing a proper girl should be.
She was brash, outspoken, and perpetually bouncing around. You could hear her all the way down the street, with her loud laughter and her constant chatter. She never sat still, and was always seen and heard.
No matter how many times she was admonished loudly by Buaji, how many times Garima shushed her, or how many times Payal elbowed her in the waist, Khushi never changed.
Among themselves, the aunties of Lakshminagar speculated that if she continued like this, she would never find a good husband.
She was simply too... sanki.
So when Shyam had come around, they had all been a little surprised when he had chosen Khushi to lavish his affections on.
They hadn't been particularly surprised when the hasty marriage had been announced. It only made sense.
With Khushi's personality, it was a miracle anyone wanted to marry her at all, and they could understand that the family wanted to get it done as soon as possible.
Especially with a father like Shashi, who was phsyically incapable, it would be helpful to have a good, kind damaad like Shyam taking care of the family.
But then rumors spread that Khushi's engagement had broken.
Why?
Because Shyam had seen Khushi with that man.
The man who always showed up in the fancy, noisy, white SUV, barreling down the narrow roads of Lakshminagar, forcing everyone to press up against the wall lest they get steamrolled.
The man with the impeccable suits and the shiny sunglasses all the children wanted, that turned up his nose at the lack of class in Lakshminagar.
The man with the permanent scowl on his face, barking at everyone that crossed his path like a rabid dog, but who had the sweet sister that was as polite as he was crabby.
And supposedly, Shyam had seen Khushi flitting about with that man. They had all seen way he touched her shoulders shamelessly, the way his hands grabbed her wrist and dragged her away as if they were having a sordid affair.
This is what happens when you act like her, they told their daughters. This is what happens when you draw undue attention to yourself.
They tittered tauntingly when news of Khushi's elopement with that man broke, shaking their heads.
She got what she deserved, they said, as they watched her listen to the insults with tear filled eyes. She called it upon herself.
They all stood behind their doors, peeping out with terrified curiosity as Khushi's husband stepped out of that SUV for the first time as the damaad of the Guptas.
He was as pretentious as they had expected, installing an air conditioning that put out the lights for everyone on the street. He hadn't known how to use the pump, and was always complaining of the heat and the mess.
He was so... different from Khushi.
He snapped at her all the time, glaring at her with a distinct sense of irritation and something else that they couldn't quite place.
He was probably unhappy that he had to marry her, they thought. They supposed that he had only married her because of the scandal she had created with him, and wished he could marry someone who was more of his class.
Khushi was too ghatiya, too brash for someone as suave as Arnav Singh Raizada.
But they realized everything had been a misconception the day they saw the figure in bright teal standing at the edge of the building.
They were worried, but also curious as they watched her step up to the edge, looking around nervously.
Khushi Kumari Singh Raizada ne Gupta was astonishingly happy for someone planning to commit suicide.
They watched, mesmerized, as she picked up the phone, waving animatedly to her harried husband standing beneath.
He finally turned around upon hearing her voice call out, his mouth falling open in horror as he caught a glimpse of his wife standing calmly at the edge of the building.
"Khushi!"
His voice echoed into the empty streets, ringing through the houses of everyone peeping through their windows at the scene playing out in front of them.
"Don't move! Stay there. Main aa raha hoon."
They watched as he sprinted up the stairs with uncharacteristic worry, his hands shaking. His hands ran through his hair nervously, and he disappeared around the corner, running as quickly as possible.
Their eyes widened as Khushi muttered something underneath her breath, stepping closer and closer to the edge.
They hadn't expected that she would actually do it.
They called to their sons, yelling at them to go outside and stand underneath her in case she actually jumped.
Khushi closed her eyes tightly, her toes slipping over the edge just as they caught a glimpse of Arnav Singh Raizada sprinting across the terrace.
"KHUSHI!"
The echo rang through the homes again, and Khushi stilled, turning back to face her husband.
They couldn't hear what she was saying, but they saw the two of them arguing heatedly. Khushi shook a finger, warning him to stay back.
Silently, they shook their heads.
This is what happens when you elope, they told their daughters. This is why you listen to your parents, or you end up with an unhappy marriage and the only way out is...
They couldn't get out the words, swallowing thickly before turning back to watch the scene playing out in front of them.
Until then, the argument had been almost comical. But it had taken on a serious tone, and they could see the devastation on the faces of both Khushi and Arnav.
"Phir bataiye humein. Kyun ki humse shaadi?"
Her voice could be heard down at the doors as they stepped closer, pulling the doors open to hear the conversation. They could hear the slight break in Khushi's voice, the sadness evident.
There was quiet murmuring, and then they heard Khushi again, her voice completely broken.
"Aap unse pyaar karte hain. Aur... hum..."
He loved someone else?
This was gossip for the ages! Never had they seen anything so dramatic play out on their streets.
There was a poignant silence as the couple stared at each other, Arnav with apparent acceptance of her claims, and Khushi in utter grief.
She had really loved him, they thought.
They almost felt bad for the girl they had grown fond of, the girl who had the ability to brighten their days despite her craziness.
They saw a sudden determination stiffen Khushi's figure. She jutted her chin out, slowly turning away from her husband. She turned back slightly, giving him one, last glance.
She lifted her hands, her eyes closed as she prepared to fall.
The shocked, horrified screams of the aunties rang out as the woman suddenly disappeared from their gazes.
It was only when their sons poked them, pointing up. He saved her, they said, shaking their heads at their overdramatic mothers. He loves her.
They watched as the two of them slowly got up, relief evident in Arnav's eyes as he saw his wife shake off the dust, alive and well.
And then... they saw the anger.
They watched as he strode towards her, shamelessly grasping her shoulders as he always did, yelling at her and shaking her desperately.
But this time, they didn't watch. Somehow... it didn't seem right. They slipped back into their homes, an unknown relief shaking them as they stepped away.
Some things... were meant to stay between a husband and a wife.
They had all been wrong.
They turned to their daughters, smiling softly.
That is the kind of man you should marry. The kind that looks at you like... that, they said, wistfully.
***
Note: I know that the original suicide scene hardly had Arnav as a loving, caring husband. I hated that scene, and I guess that's why I felt the need to write it like this- suicide is never something that should be taken lightly. It's not funny.
Kabhi Neem Neem Kabhi Shahad Shahad
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