After exploring workplace harassment in Noshtoneer and marital rape in Bodhon, director Aditi Roy returns with the second season of Lojja, this time turning the spotlight on verbal abuse.
Lojja Season 2 picks up Jaya Sinha’s (Priyanka Sarkar) story where we left her — mid-stride in the slow, suffocating escape from an emotionally abusive marriage. The stakes are higher now, the stage larger. What was once confined to the four walls of her home now spills out into police stations, law offices and courtrooms, into the judgmental glances of neighbours and the cold silences of family members. The abuse hasn’t stopped — it’s only morphed.
What stands out almost immediately is how Lojja 2 dares to zoom in on the intangible. Verbal abuse — often dismissed as just words — is positioned here not as the prelude to violence, but as violence itself. In Priyanka Sarkar’s hands, Jaya becomes the face of a thousand silent survivors, composed yet fraying, assertive yet bruised. It is in her stillness that we find a storm.
The series makes space for the quieter cruelties that women endure — a passing remark laced with sarcasm, a joke that cuts too close to the bone, a backhanded compliment meant to wound. These are not aberrations but daily realities, and Lojja 2 captures them with unnerving clarity In its six crisp episodes.
There is a scene in the final episode — a courtroom monologue where Jaya articulates the dark internal bruise that forms when one absorbs humiliation over time. It is a moment of quiet catharsis, one that resonates not because it is loud or dramatic, but because it is painfully real.
But for all its impact, Lojja 2 is also a series battling time. With just 20-minute episodes, it attempts to do a lot — perhaps too much. The subplot involving Jaya’s daughter, the relationship with Surjo (her friend and confidant, played by Indrashish Roy), the flashbacks suggesting why Partha (Anujoy Chattopadhyay) turned into who he is, even the subtext of class and societal complicity — they are compelling threads, but some remain underexplored.
Samrajnee Bandyopadhyay’s screenplay and dialogues are evocative, but at times lean into overstatement. The frequent verbal signposting feels a tad instructive, as if the show doesn’t fully trust its audience to join the dots. And yet, for every heavy-handed moment, there are scenes that cut to the bone — especially when Priyanka Sarkar and Anujoy Chattopadhyay face off.
Chattopadhyay’s portrayal of Partha is once again unsettling. He’s not a monster. He’s worse — a man who believes he’s done nothing wrong. It is this casual, practiced cruelty that makes his character so disturbingly real. And yet, the show hints (a little too briefly) at his own emotional baggage, leaving the viewer to wonder whether this too is part of the conversation, or a door left ajar.
What Lojja 2 gets right is the way it positions abuse not as a singular act but a systemic design. Abuse that happens in homes mirrors that in workplaces, in public spaces, in the so-called jokes shared among colleagues. It is both personal and institutional, and that’s a truth few shows have dared to confront this directly.
Dipankar Dey brings gravitas in a small but significant appearance as Jaya’s lawyer, while the supporting cast rounds out the story with believable nuance. But make no mistake — this is Priyanka Sarkar’s series. She owns the screen without once needing to raise her voice. In her, we see the quiet rage of women who’ve had enough.