10 Reasons Why Rishi Singh Sekhawat is as Toxic as Arsenic
Rishi Singh Sekhawat, Mismatch’s brooding, ever-so-sacrificial hero, is a walking paradox. With his fairytale love and delusional perseverance, he’s the kind of man who’d throw himself under the bus and apologize to the bus driver for being in the way. Let’s take a chatty, sarcastic stroll through 10 reasons why Rishi is just as toxic as arsenic (if arsenic wore a knight’s armour and called it love).
- He’s the King of Emotional Masochism
Rishi is like that plant that grows better when you insult it daily. He thrives on pain—self-inflicted, courtesy of Dimple—and somehow believes it’s fertilizer for love. One interaction with Dimple and poof! All his emotional wounds magically heal, making you wonder if the Epithelium God secretly sponsors him.
- The Knight in Rusty Armour
Rishi thinks he’s Mark Antony reincarnated but without the whole “I’ll die for you” shtick. He’s in a “betterverse”, folks, where Cleopatra is replaced by a guilt-trip-inducing Dimple. His chivalry is so outdated it’s practically medieval, and his pride? Non-existent.
- Self-sabotage is His Love Language
Who needs external enemies when you’ve got Rishi? He willingly sabotages his career—his well-deserved animator job—and serves it on a guilt-ridden platter to Dimple. Nothing says “I’m toxic” quite like destroying your dreams for someone who won’t even blink at your sacrifice.
- All Guilt, No Glory
Rishi’s emotions are a one-trick pony—and that trick is guilt. He’s the human equivalent of an apology letter. For someone who’s wronged repeatedly, he still manages to feel guilty for existing. Newsflash, Rishi: martyrdom isn’t as romantic as it sounds.
- He Normalizes Gaslighting… Himself
Dimple makes him feel guilty for his achievements, and he buys it wholesale. That’s right; he gaslights himself into believing that he’s at fault for being… talented? He might as well hand Dimple a “Guilt-Free Pass” and call it a day.
- His Love is a Straight-Jacket
While the world embraces situationships and emotional flexibility, Rishi’s love is straight out of a Victorian novel. His brand of devotion is suffocatingly pure, leaving no room for reality or—wait for it—mutual respect.
- Delusional Optimism is His Superpower
Rishi’s belief in Dimple’s “talent” is the stuff of legend. Despite her unimpressive track record (NNIT rejection, online course disaster, financial bailouts), he continues to sing her praises like she’s the second coming of Steve Jobs. If denial were a sport, Rishi would have gold medals.
- He’s a Walking, Talking Doormat
Remember when Rishi admitted that Dimple makes him feel guilty? She brushed it off like lint on her sleeve. Instead of standing up for himself, Rishi doubles down on his guilt trip. He’s not just a doormat; he’s the entire carpet.
- His Reality Check Bounced
Rishi’s perception of love is so far removed from reality, it’s practically sci-fi. In his world, love cures pride, self-respect, and probably baldness too. Meanwhile, Dimple’s just coasting along, barely acknowledging his existence.
- Toxicity in a Tuxedo
On the surface, Rishi seems too good to be true. But dig deeper, and you’ll find a man whose obsessive, sacrificial tendencies are downright harmful—to himself and everyone around him. His version of love isn’t pure; it’s poison wrapped in a pretty bow.
Final Thoughts
Rishi Singh Sekhawat might look like Prince Charming, but his brand of love is as toxic as arsenic. He’s the poster boy for emotional manipulation disguised as romance. However, maybe—just maybe—Rishi’s goodness is what makes him toxic in the present world. In a society that thrives on cynicism and convenience, his unwavering belief in fairytale love feels misplaced and implausible. Perhaps, in an utopian world, where emotional self-respect and idealistic love coexist, a Rishi would be a beacon of hope. Until then, we’ll have to take his green flags with a hefty pinch of salt, waiting for the day when they might become both plausible and desirable.
