The Other Roshan

In a small town nestled between the hills of Kerala, there lived a young man named Kichu. His full name was Krishna Kumar, but ever since his childhood friends watched a movie called Kattappanayile Hrithik Roshan, they teased him with the nickname Kattappanayile Roshan.

Kichu didn’t mind. He wasn’t a star, nor did he want to be. He worked at a local printing press, earned just enough to help his mother, and cracked jokes that made even the grumpiest neighbor laugh.

One day, a marriage proposal came to Kichu’s house. The girl, Anu, was beautiful, ambitious, and had always dreamt of marrying someone tall, rich, and charming her version of Hrithik Roshan. But her parents pressured her into accepting Kichu, saying, “Looks fade, but good men stay.”

She reluctantly agreed.

The wedding happened, but things were never warm between them. Anu kept comparing Kichu to the men she had once dreamed of the "city boys" with high paying jobs and foreign degrees. She often muttered, "I settled for less." And every time their fridge broke, or their scooter refused to start, her eyes said, “You’re not enough.”

Kichu heard it all not just the words, but the silence too.
He worked harder. Picked up extra shifts. Learned graphic design at night. Not to prove anything just to make things easier.

But nothing changed. One day, after another heated argument, Anu shouted,
“You will never be the Roshan (Rich & Handsome) I wanted!”

Kichu looked at her, hurt but calm.
“Maybe not,” he said, “But I never claimed to be. You married me, not a dream. And yet, I’ve paid the price for someone else’s poster all these years.”

The room went silent.

A few months later, Anu fell ill and had to be hospitalized. It was Kichu who ran around, arranging money, sleeping on hospital benches, skipping meals. Her parents praised him, but she just watched.

One night, as he sat beside her, tired but smiling, she whispered,
“I was wrong, Kichu.” 

He looked at her with the same gentle eyes.
“Wrong about what?”

“You weren’t the Roshan I wanted. But you’re the one I needed.”

Moral of the story:

Never judge someone by the dreams you were forced to give up. Expectations built on fantasy can destroy real love, real effort, and real people. Don’t punish someone for not being your illusion, value them for being your reality.