ONE CHANCE GIVEN 2.8
GEETU & KICHDI 1.8
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She blames the ever present practicality and economically tight upbringing for the skewed way of rationalizing morbid suicidal tendencies. Hanging on to a ceiling fan was out of the question; it was an old house and if the fan fell down and she broke her arms, it was triple expense to cover – from her hospital bills to fixing the ceiling and the fan. Sleeping pills were unpredictable; they were expensive to buy and one couldn't really find a nice tutorial on Youtube as to how much should one ingest to actually die and not slip into a coma thus inducing more expenses on her family. Wrist cutting was messy and she didn't like being messy and besides the sight would be gore and cleaning it all would be a total nightmare. And if she were to be discovered before she was actually dead…yeah, hospital expenses, liters of tears, awkward explanations…blah blah blah…
It's almost funny – the way her mind wraps around concept of suicide and self-harm with depraved morbidity to the economics of the process rather than the post suicidal repercussions. Her husband is less than twenty feet away with her parents. But all she can think of is the way she can come up with a foolproof process of her dying easy on their pockets rather than their hearts. It doesn't even cross her mind. It should disturb her but it doesn't.
It doesn't, does it?
She thinks of jumping from a building. The odds are as bad as the earlier prospects but she thinks she can make it work. Her mind is in skittles as it goes through a dozen probable ways of failing and improvising with every failure. Her mind flutters when she believes she has arrived at the right way of falling down from a building with less risk of survival.
Risk of surviving; no one has ever thought that way before. It should have sounded like an oxymoron but to her ears it sounds like a perfect solution. She discards her planner on the bed and leans back on the bed. The cardboard stars with glitters swayed softly with the passing breeze. They were personification of wanton childhood dreams and memories she could never really grasp in her fist. She lists all the items she possesses – cardboard stars with glitters, laces, embellishments for her dresses, copious amount of bangles in every possible hue, a dozen dresses, old cell phone and…the string of black beads around her neck. Her mind tries to rationalize again telling her that it isn't technically hers but Arnav gave to her but she argues back saying in this sort of relationship, it's most definitely hers.
The ease with which she says her goodbyes, terrify her. Shouldn't it be more difficult? She hugs her aunt and her mom one after the other and the tears in her eyes stay there. She wills them to stay there and to her horror she realizes that there weren't more. Her feeble ways of telling them to be happy is met with scorn and disbelief. Their assumption of her being in one of her "moods" flows and pounces on her chest as they miss the seriousness lying under the flailing of her arms and twisting of her hips. She is bouncy on her feet as she wishes to end her life because…the reason has escaped her.
Only the solution sticks. Risk of survival bothers her. But she forgets about it when she sees her husband pacing with a file in his hand. Her throat constricts and she feels like chocking. But her voice doesn't falter. It doesn't give away an impression of impending doom or suicide, if you will. She forgives him grandly. He looks at her in disbelief without understanding the grandeur of her act. She forgives him for his decision, action and choices; for making her feel inferior, for indulging her in his twisted sense of justice. The rare moments of attraction he blatantly displayed bombards her mind. She shakes her head, pats his arm. His flabbergasted expression makes her chuckle. She laughs nervously and bids him goodbye, wondering if this solution would bring an end to all the problems. Risk of survival, her mind mocks. The vortex of all the problems seems to have found a root and a resting place in her. Theoretically, her death should solve all problems, she thinks while climbing stairs of the tallest building in her locality. She could have gone to the city and hunted for a much taller building but she wanted to implement her solution real soon. It was her thing – to react soon than not react at all – like her husband was.
Arnav would lead a happy life with Lavanya after her death. Her parents and her aunt would mourn for longest but they would move on because her older sister would be there to help them with that. Anjali would grieve till she sees Arnav happy as would rest of Arnav's family. Shyam would forget about her. Payal would always feel a tug in her heart at the loss but with time, it would reduce to a numb ache.
She walks on the ledge, feeling free and ready to move on. She holds on to her phone – a bad habit of the generation in itself she mocks herself. She would take a leap from the ledge and would fall head down on the ground. Cerebral damages were rarely repaired successfully, she found that on Google. Her phone would help people to call her family fast. Death might not be instantaneous if she mucks up the fall. She stands on the ledge and assesses her situation.
Nice wind, clear spot, phone in hand and she is ready.
She takes one step forward and dangles it over the edge in sheer insanity and finds it both disturbingly exhilarating and scary at the same time. She is about to take the dive when her phone rings.
It's Arnav.
She is irritated and pissed that he couldn't leave her alone even when she five minutes away from her death. She lets out a groan of annoyance and cuts the call.
She hates it when he turns around and looks at her fragile state in sheer horror.
She hates it when he runs to the terrace in record time putting a lot of world class sprinters into shame with his speed and agility.
She hates it when he asks, no, demands, her to stop.
She hates it when she finds her heart breathe a sigh of relief as it was waiting forever to hear those words. It is even gladder that the words came from him.
She laughs sardonically when he agrees to tell her the truth behind his decision of marrying her.
The swallows the disgust she feels at the reaction of her husband wanting to give her an explanation only when he felt she was really going to die. The residual attraction and borderline likeness towards the moments spent by them softened the edges of the harsh words. But he forgot about it when the explanation lengthened and his anger took over.
She idly wonders in the middle of the argument if the risk of survival ever considered Arnav as a parameter which could bring down the whole show.
She decides to recalculate and recalibrate the risks of survival once more.
However this time she considers Arnav as a major influencing parameter on the outcome.
Note: The scene was recommended by Nyxx - the terrace scene where she tries to commit suicide. It took me forever to write because the way the scene moves from being silly to angst gave me whiplash. Why was her decision of ending her life made so trivial? It's hard to work on a scene like that without making the entire thing flippant. Nyxx - I hope I did some justice to your expectation though I don't feel so with the out come. :-)
This was easily of the worst scenes of the show - for trivializing suicide, for ruining the characters of both Arnav and Khushi, and this is when the show reached a point of no return. They could have just drilled some sense into Arnav's head and gone ahead with the much awaited redemption track. But no... they clearly had a affinity for shit and they decided to plunge into it.
I really liked the first part - where you point out the irony of the whole situation. "Risk of survival". And the goodbyes, especially with Arnav - She forgives him grandly. He looks at her in disbelief without understanding the grandeur of her act. This was supposed to be a poignant moment, not a scene for comic relief. I am glad you write your version of it.
In the end however, I would have liked Khushi to have decided to take stock of her life rather than consider another attempt at this with taking into account Arnav as a parameter. If not that, at least despise the sight of Arnav. I guess the show didn't leave you much choice unless you tweaked the plot itself.
Good one RB :) Now waiting for the next 😳
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