All different kinds of love were showcased in ipkknd, and often, Khushi's way of loving is interpreted as sacrificial, the kind of devotion that makes her a textbook TV heroine.
Because in TV and real life, women are (almost) always expected to go to hell and back for the people they love. Women endure, they suffer in silence—for family, for duty, for the greater cause that is love.
But with Khushi, was her endurance, forgiveness, and selflessness a deliberate choice? Or was it the only way she knew how to love?
Sacrifice is a sign of strength, but in Khushi's case it was tinted with weakness.
She did not sacrifice because she was strong, or because her love was noble and virtuous, it rather comes from a place of obligation.
sacrifice as obligation: I must do this for you.
vs.
sacrifice as deliberation: I choose to do this for you, knowing it will hurt me.
At times, Khushi would stand up for herself when she was being abused by Arnav (resignation scene, guesthouse incident...). But at other times, and especially after something starts to ignite in her heart towards him, her boundaries start to blur. She became more passive in face of the hurt, be it emotional or physical.
There’s a tragic beauty in how she absorbs the weight of Arnav’s cruelty—not just out of fear of his threats, but because she believes that’s what loving him might look like.
She endured, letting him do whatever he wanted with her, not because she chose to be submissive to him, but because she felt obliged to do so if that's what it took to be with him.
Love for her looked different—loving him required complete succumbency.
Their love was not an equation, very from from it.
The highest form of love, is to forgive; and Khushi was a master at that.
She always forgave people she loved, from her own family to Arnav, before they even asked for it—often compeletly without.
Take for instance, the early stages of their first marriage, she looked for answers behind his brutality—why was he tormenting her? what had she done wrong? But I would say she dropped those questions rather quickly.
She allowed herself to live with those questions, it came easier than forcing an answer out of him.
She had faith in him all along, even with this level of torment he'd put her under, she still trusted that he must have a reason behind all of this. She would rather trust him blindly (even if that trust meant her misery) than pressure him into an answer.
Now, I don't know wether the writers of the show chose to ditch the questioning of his actions to highlight her inclination to finding comfort—familiarity in being a victim— his victim; or did they just want to drag the show a bit longer? Maybe both.
Khushi gave without expecting anything in return. Because loving Arnav meant easing his strain— even though he was the one causing hers.
She constantly put herself in bad lighting as long as it meant she was protecting him, standing with him, submitting to the version of love she had accepted.
This is seen in how she hid the truth behind the marriage from the Raizadas as well as the Guptas, even when the truth came out—when Shyam’s lies were laid bare—she still chose silence over vindication.
She knew that Arnav blackmailing her into marrying him, will not be accepted by others. Only she can forgive him for it, silently. And she recieved all the disappointment and anger that came with it (from their families) with an open chest. Never once did she spit his name in blame, because she already chose a side: his.
We don't give Khushi enough credit for what she endured for his love, always putting him first.
Khushi NEVER thought about leaving Arnav; only when he asked her to. When he said "Why did you come in my life?Why did I meet you? It is all your fault Khushi." she finally thought, maybe he would be better off without me.
She thought about abandoning this relationship, not for herself but for him— not because she had reached her limit, but because she thought he had. Even though, she was the one at most disadvantage throughout all of this.
This ties into the idea of obligation vs deliberation.
Her sacrifice was to optimize his well-being, hers was never an option.
She didn’t measure what she was giving up, because it didn’t feel like a conscious decision. It came natural, as a reflex, as an imperative attached to loving him.
Her sacrifice was never about asserting love through choice—it was about surviving love through submission.
I just love love love re-reading my notes after a long time, most of it does not make any sense, yet it's so confidently written.
Editing them feels illegal. It feels like i'm destroying a feeling that once made sense.
Yet I end up re-writing it. And the result- as refined as it is- doesn't hit as much as that first draft.
3. "farak nahi padta" —but Anjali sees through his stern facade.
(Episode 30)
After the guesthouse incident, a raw confrontation unfolds between the two siblings. A moment filled with emotional weight, doesn’t rely on raised voices or dramatic gestures but on the silence, the hesitations, and the unspoken truth.
trapped under the tongue.
escaping through the eyes.
Anjali: "Why are you bothering her so much? Nothing matters to you, right? Then what has Khushi done that—"
Anjali questions Arnav, but is she really looking for an answer? Her voice becomes the one his own conscience tried to quiet.
And it nudges at him.
Arnav: "I don't know what she has done di—"
The question his Di asks him, he had asked himself countless times before. And his immediate response was honest; a little piece of his mind slipped through.
Why does she reside permanently in my mind?
Why do I only think of her?
Why does she consume my soul?
Why does she edge closer the further I push her away?
These questions bounce up and down the hollow walls of his heart, with only one logical answer.
One answer he refuses to accept because it threatens the identity he worked so hard to establish; it clashes with all of his morals and sense of self.
So he wraps it in the safe: "I don't know."
A confession clouded by pride and fear of vulnerability.
He then looks at Anjali and backtracks.
—It's nothing like that."
Even if it's his sister who understands him most, Arnav refuses to expose his inner turmoil in front of her. It isn’t denial—it’s concealment.
"Kyun tum yeh maan-na nahi chahte ke tum Khushi ke liye pareshaan ho rahe ho? Jo bhi tumne kiya usse tumhe farak padta hai."
"Why don't you want to admit that you are bothered by Khushi? Whatever you did, it matters to you."
Anjali simply deciphers his seemingly complicated emotions, laying them bare before him, effortlessly.
She hints at the answer to all the questions tangled in his brain.
Patiently waits for him to connect the dots.
She acts as his mirror, reflecting the truth he is so adamant on ignoring.
Letting him know that his feelings are rational, that they aren't as confusing as he thinks—they make sense, and they are real.
And when Anjali calls to make sure that Khushi is sound and well, Arnav stiffly watches, worry written all over his face.
With the news of her being okay, he tells his Di that he hasn't asked about Khushi's whereabouts.
Anjali:"Yes, you never asked me. Your eyes—they did."
Arnav:"Mujhe koi farak nahi padta."
Even with his body displaying everything he hides, he is ever so determined to keep his rigid surface appearing intact.
And though Anjali holds a mirror in front of him, she doesn't await a clear reflection.
The door for honesty stands open, but it's up to him to walk through it.
She smiles endearingly at his denial of farak. Her expression was soft and knowing, not out of belief, but because she never needed a confession in the first place.
The first admission of farak isn't voiced by either protagonist— instead by the perceptive Anjali.
She saw the weight he carried and chose to carry a little of it with him.
2. "farak nahi padta" But I can't stop thinking about you.
(Episode 24)
Farak is brought up for the second time, by Arnav.
After the parking lot incident, Arnav drives back home as a series of his encounters with Khushi flashes before his eyes, highlighting everytime he abused her and reduced her to tears.
He pulls over, steps out of the car and lets the rain pour all over him.
Drenched to the bone he stands there, as the storm mirrors the chaos in his mind.
"Kyun mujhe pehli baar aisa laga ki main... main shayad kuch galat kar raha hoon?"
"Why do I feel for the first time that I… maybe I am doing something wrong?"
For the first time we see it, regret: quiet yet piercing.
And immediately after this internal confession, he realizes that he is showing signs of vulnerability.
"—Main sahi hoon, main jo kar raha hoon sahi hai."
"—I am right, whatever I am doing is correct."
He tucks every hint of regret away, re-building his emotional armor that was beginning to crack. He buries every unwanted thought under the roar of the rain, hoping that it fades away.
"Phir kyun? Kyun mujhe ussi ka khayal baar baar aa raha hai? Sirf ussi ka chehra."
"Then why? Why do I keep thinking of her again and again? Only her face."
But the storm outside doesn't drown the chaos inside him. It only grows louder, refusing to be silenced.
He doesn't understand this raging emotion within him. Arnav, a man that only knows how to be in control, finds himself helpless in front of Khushi's haunting image. He is not used to this feeling, he can't rationalize nor explain it.
"Mujhe bura nahi lag sakta, nahi— us ladki ke liye kabhi bhi nahi."
"I can't feel bad, no—never for that girl."
He only knows that he shouldn't submit to it.
By addressing Khushi as "that girl", he creates a distance between them, detaching her from his reality. He keeps on shoving away these confusing and tangled feelings, and stablizes the emotional walls he's built over the years.
"Arnav singh raizad ko kisi ladki sai koi farak nahi padta."
"Arnav Singh Raizada doesn't care about any girl."
He refuses to let her shake his world, another desperate attempt at feigning apathy. The expression on his face is a mixture of defeat and determination.
And as the two storms brew, he holds onto the pretense that she doesn’t matter.
1. "farak nahi padta" Because she is just one of those girls— or so he wanted to believe.
(Episode 6)
Arnav was the first to utter those words, he was the one who launched this track.
Setting the scene; one of the ASR staff informs him that the girl who fell (gracefully) into his arms is being the target of malicious talk. He replies with:
"Mujhe koi farak nahi padta agar vo ladki desh chod kar chali jaye toh"
"It doesn't make a difference to me, even if that girl leaves the country."
A blatant lie. He was obviously going to say that— at this point in the show, it was always ASR speaking rather than Arnav. His default is: cold, calculated and indifferent.
But the real question is: did he really not care?
Arnav must have had his fair share of people coming into his life with secret agendas, their ulterior motive being money or status. And when Khushi enters his world, he automatically categorizes her as such.
(Which we know is not true, she wasn't after him at all- let alone for the money. It was all fate.)
In that same scene, he says: "Stop involving yourself in every aspect of my life."
This line reveals far more than he intended. He implies that Khushi is everywhere, not just physically but emotionally. She is all around him and within him, no matter how much he resists.
And he is not frustrated because Khushi is "forcing" herself into his life. He is frustrated because she is already there, occupying the quiet corners of his mind.
And by reducing her to "one of those girls", he tries to shrink the impact she has on him. He tries to make her blend in the crowd even though her colors were the brightest. She was unignorable, demanded all of his attention.
His heart, intriguied, wanted to cave in and let her take over all of his senses, but his emotional armor will not allow. So for now, he lets her silently consume his mind, refusing to display any proof of such thoughts.
Therefore, "farak nahi padta".
“Sometimes a thought is closer to truth, to reality, than an action. You can say anything, you can do anything, but you can't fake a thought.” - Iain Reid, I'm Thinking of Ending Things.
And tell me why every time I rant about ipk I have to mention the farak track? like girl we get it. Tbh I would do it again everytime. There was one time of me rewatching the show where I HYPERfixated on it like crazy. And it helped me a lot with my journey in understanding the protagonists (especially Arnav). It answers a lot of questions that you could have about the process of him falling in love with Khushi. The man went through stages. And every scene where farak is mentioned, is a different stage. Ugh I could just put whoever wrote the show on a pedestal and admire their mind for ages.
I have always been an observer, I would quietly watch everyone speak their mind and obsess (rightfully) over ipkknd. Recently, I opened my notes app and stumbled upon way too much drafts about the show that never saw the light of day. And honestly, that stung just a little.
So I figured maybe take a step out of my comfort zone and reveal my inner thoughts to the world. Here’s to finally taking that leap… Let’s see if I can survive this 'sharing' thing:)
ps: I genuienly don't know if there's an intact ipkknd community around here still- we shall see.
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