When a show leaves you questioning humanity’s darkest corners, you know it’s done something right. Raakh, Ali Fazal’s latest series, is one such piece of art—unsettling, raw, and impossible to ignore. Inspired by the 1978 Ranga-Billa case, a crime that still sends shivers down India’s collective spine, the show isn’t just a retelling of a horrific event; it’s a mirror held up to society’s failures. Personally, I think what makes Raakh particularly fascinating is its refusal to glorify violence or romanticize trauma. It’s a gut-punch, plain and simple, and that’s precisely why it works.
What many people don’t realize is how deeply personal this story can feel, even decades later. Karan Johar’s recent review of the show highlights this perfectly. As a parent himself, he was visibly shaken by the portrayal of Geeta and Sanjay Chopra’s kidnapping and murder. His words—‘deeply disturbed’—aren’t just a critique; they’re a testament to the show’s power. If you take a step back and think about it, Raakh isn’t just about a crime; it’s about the ripple effects of evil, the scars it leaves on families, and the fear it instills in communities.
One thing that immediately stands out is Sonali Bendre’s performance. Johar called it ‘career-defining,’ and I couldn’t agree more. Her portrayal of a grieving mother isn’t just acting—it’s a masterclass in vulnerability. What this really suggests is that sometimes, the most devastating stories are told not through plot twists, but through the quiet, aching humanity of their characters. Aamir Bashir, too, delivers a performance that lingers long after the credits roll. Together, they force you to confront the unbearable pain of loss, and that’s no small feat.
From my perspective, Prosit Roy’s direction deserves equal praise. His storytelling is tight, unflinching, and refreshingly non-manipulative. In an era where emotional scenes are often milked for dramatic effect, Roy’s approach feels almost revolutionary. He doesn’t need to exaggerate—the truth is horrifying enough. This raises a deeper question: How do we tell stories of trauma responsibly? Raakh seems to have cracked the code.
But here’s where it gets interesting: Raakh isn’t just a crime drama; it’s a cultural artifact. The Ranga-Billa case changed how Indian parents viewed child safety. It sparked conversations about justice, morality, and the failures of the system. The show reignites those discussions, reminding us that some wounds never fully heal. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it connects to broader societal issues—the fragility of safety, the complexity of evil, and the enduring impact of tragedy.
If you’re wondering why this matters in 2023, consider this: In a world where true crime is both obsession and entertainment, Raakh refuses to be just another binge-watch. It demands reflection. It challenges you to ask uncomfortable questions. Personally, I think that’s the mark of great art—it doesn’t just entertain; it provokes.
In my opinion, Raakh is more than a show; it’s a necessary reminder of humanity’s capacity for both cruelty and resilience. It’s not an easy watch, but then again, the most important stories rarely are. As Karan Johar aptly put it, ‘I’m not sure I’ll recover soon from this trauma binge.’ And maybe, just maybe, that’s the point.
