Kusum Lakhani

Kusum (Parekh) Lakhani was born on April 21, 1942, the second of five siblings (older sister Hasu and younger sister Sarla, and the youngest twin brothers, Dhirendra and Jayant). She and her siblings were bound together by a strong, loving mother, and a strict, disciplined father. Cama Lane, Ghatkopar, Bombay was where it all began for her.

After finishing at Ratna Chintamani, an all-girls’ school, she entered Ruia College in Matunga, Bombay. She was a serious student, and at her mother’s insistence, went to religious classes too. She excelled in her major, Economics. She also learned Sanskrit. Books were her companions, especially Gujarati literature that spoke directly to her heart. Their home wasn't filled with wealth but with something far more precious: books and contentment, a simple life made rich by small joys. Later in life, she subscribed to “Navneet,” a monthly magazine with stories and editorials. She would tear open the brown envelope and read it from cover to cover, savoring each story. She loved language.

At nineteen, she fell in love with Jasu, her uncle’s friend and the man she would be with for the next sixty-five years. The engagement stretched across years until her father, patience finally exhausted, pushed for the wedding. At the time, most engagements lasted three months. Theirs lasted three years. In 1964, they married. She became, in effect, a second mother to his five siblings overnight. She became their “Bhabhi”, and though that means sister-in-law, they considered her their second mother.

Jasu was a CPA and Kusum had dreams of becoming one too. Children could wait, and they did—for five years. This was unheard of in the 1960s, to keep her husband and society waiting until she was ready. In 1969, Priti “Bittu” was born, her crazy, chubby “toofan” (typhoon). Then later, Purvi, her “haya no haar,” (closest to my heart). In 1973, Jasu left for Kansas. For three years, Kusum raised two daughters in a third-floor walkup apartment in Parla. Often lonely and anxious, she leaned on her found family of neighbors. She and Jasu only spoke once a year, but they kept their love and marriage alive by writing letters.

In 1976, Kusum and her daughters joined Jasu in America. Her first job was working at King Radio, an Olathe manufacturing plant that paid her $1.90 per hour for a labor job she secretly hated but clung to with fierce determination. She would multiply her earnings by eight, converting dollars to rupees, as if this small act of arithmetic could bridge the gap between what was and what had been. Six months later, relief came in the form of employment where her husband worked in Overland Park. She became a much-valued employee.

After a move to Topeka in 1979, she made many friends, worked hard, learned so much about life. She raised her girls, met neighbors on her daily walks, and hosted inviting, delicious dinners. If someone was immigrating from India, they always spent weeks with Kusum. She insisted they learned how to drive, clip coupons for groceries, and balance a checkbook. She also found her place as an accountant at the Topeka Civic Theater. For years, plays became the doorway to American culture. Free tickets. New understandings. Art flowing into life.

She was quietly proud of her daughters, raising them the way she had been, with books, discipline, and small joys. She had a quick, dry wit. She was ever dedicated to work, instilling the importance of financial independence on every girl she met. She dressed gracefully in a sari every day, no matter the weather or occasion. In 1992, she became spiritually rededicated to Satsang. She was devout, attending every Sunday.

In December 2002, she became a very proud “Mamaji” of her only grandchild, Paul Lakhani Manna. From the moment he was born, he displaced everyone else and became her “number one love.” She taught him about Jainism, good hair, and Indian food. She reveled in spoiling him with love and attention.

Upon her diagnosis of Alzheimer’s, she remained strong. She maintained that she was lucky, because she knew she would be well cared for by her family. Her brothers and sisters in law (Hasu, Kanti, Himat, Indira, Jasu, Subhi, Sridevi, Chandra, Mark, and Mahendra) were supportive and present in every way. They loved her well. Her remaining siblings (Hasu, Piyush, Jayant, Aruna, Dhiru, Kokila) supported her regardless of geography.

She passed on March 29th, peacefully, surrounded by her adoring family, with her favorite prayer playing in the background, at home. She taught us how to take care of each other. She taught us “Seva”, selfless service.

Sixty plus years of marriage. A lifetime spent crossing oceans, both literal and figurative. The innocent, calm, simple, and straightforward girl from Ghatkopar transformed—yet somehow remained exactly who she had always been.

Kusum was preceded in death by her beloved sisters, Hasu and Sarla. She is survived by her husband Jasu, Overland Park; daughter Priti (Mark Manna) Lakhani, daughter Purvi Lakhani, and grandson Paul.

In lieu of flowers, because she loved the theater and children, memorial contributions can be made to: https://topekacivictheatre.com/donate/, and https://dreamgirlfoundation.ngo/donate/

The funeral service will be at Penwell Gabel 14275 S Black Bob Rd, Olathe, KS 66062 on Wednesday, April 2nd, at 1PM, immediately followed by the cremation ceremony. Seating capacity is limited, and it will be live streamed. A celebration of life will be held in Kansas City at the Hindu Temple and Cultural Center of Kansas City on April 19th at 3 pm, followed by dancing and (of course) dinner to include all her favorite foods. Please join us for that which best suits your schedule.

To share a memory of Kusum, or to leave a message for the family, visit the guestbook below.