The room exudes a quiet, timeworn intimacy — chipped teal walls dulled by decades, wooden shelves bowed under the weight of forgotten knick-knacks, and lace tablecloths stained with stories brewed over endless cups of tea. This is a modest home in Beliaghata, one of Calcutta’s oldest neighbourhoods, where the air hangs heavy with humidity and memory.
The day had begun in chaos — not the soft, romantic drizzle that lends itself to poetry, but a full-bodied monsoon downpour. Beliaghata was soaked through: water gushed from tin rooftops, puddles formed craters in broken lanes, and the slap of wet slippers echoed like a soundtrack. By the time we arrived on set, drenched and breathless, umbrellas turned inside out, the old two-storied house — now the central location of Karma Korma, Pratim D. Gupta’s upcoming Hoichoi series — offered a kind of stillness we hadn’t felt all morning.
Inside, the air was still. It smelled of old newspapers, boiled milk, damp upholstery, and the quiet resignation of stories half-told.
A fan whirred above us as we tiptoed into the living room set, careful not to disturb the take in progress. There, in the centre of it all, sat Ritwick Chakraborty, in full khaki uniform, his nameplate glinting faintly under the tungsten lights: Bhupen Bhaduri. He looked every bit the oddball cop Pratim had scripted — paunch pushing against his belt, lips tinged with a light stain from paan, sipping a warm cup of milk joyfully.
On cue, he returned to his role — a curious, slightly eccentric police officer investigating the sudden fall of a man from his balcony. Across from him, Sohini Sarkar sat, swathed in mustard-yellow and quiet sorrow. Her character Jhinuk — a widow grappling with grief, unanswered questions, and an unexpected second round of police inquiry — showed layers with every twitch of her fingers, every glance at the floorboards. There was intimidation in her body language, a little guarded curiosity too, and — just beneath it all — a sadness that wasn’t for performance. It felt lived in.
Ritwick Chakraborty and Sohini Sarkar.
“Pratimda and I are working together for the second consecutive project — we also did Rannabati, which is set to release soon. I’ve always admired his work; Maacher Jhol is one of my favourite films. I often work with Hoichoi and really value the critical acclaim their projects receive, so I try to do at least one project with them every year. My character in Karma Korma has a different arc — visually simple, but with a sense of completeness and many subtle shades. Ritwickda is amazing, and Pratimda clearly loves working with him — he casts him in almost all his projects. As for Ritabhari and me, we last worked together on Ogo Bodhu Shundori around 2010, so this is our first collaboration in over 15 years. We share so many memories, and every time we were on set together for Karma Korma, we couldn’t help but reminisce,” said Sohini.
Ritwick’s eyes darted around the room with wide-eyed keenness. He was all tics and quirks. The tension in the scene was offset by his peculiar energy — like a man who’s both part of the investigation and just there for the company. His character didn’t press for answers. He nudged for them.
“Pratim and I have worked together earlier on films like Maacher Jhol, Shaheb Bibi Golaam and I’ve always enjoyed his storytelling — it’s different, layered, and always rooted in something emotionally honest. His narratives don’t follow the usual path, and that makes them all the more interesting to be a part of. Sohini and I have collaborated before as well, so there’s an existing sense of ease and trust between us, but more than that, she’s a very good actor. Working with someone who brings that level of commitment and subtlety to her performance makes the entire process seamless — you can just flow with the scene. Ritabhari and I don’t share too many scenes in this series, but I know her personally and have always found her to be a wonderful actor and an equally warm person. In this series, I’m playing a cop — but not your typical stern, by-the-book officer. He’s quirky, fun in his own way, but also sharply observant and focused. The character has his own set of odd little mannerisms, and playing with that physicality, that balance of humour and intent, has been a refreshing challenge," said Ritwick.
Ritabhari
Behind the monitor, Pratim D. Gupta called out instructions into his mic, fingers dancing on the edge of his seat. Dressed in a breezy orange floral cotton shirt, he looked less like a director and more like someone hosting a summer lunch — until you noticed his eyes: sharply focused, tracing every micro-expression from the actors.
“Karma Korma is essentially a crime thriller, but it’s not your typical dark and brooding one. It explores themes like what women really want from life and love, all through the lens of two central characters — Shahana and Jhinuk, played by Ritabhari and Sohini — both of whom are married. The particular scene we were shooting today has Ritwick’s character, a cop, visiting Jhinuk’s home to ask a few more questions. She had already been to the police station earlier and thought that part of it was behind her — so his unexpected visit throws her off. Ritwick plays a very funny cop — quirky, unpredictable. He has milk during serious discussions because of his acid reflux, and chances are, he’ll probably ask for milk even mid-investigation. That’s the charm of this world — while there’s mystery and tension, the tone is light, there’s humour, there’s fashion, and it’s all rooted in realism. It’s a full package," said Pratim.
"And yes,” he adds with a smile, “I love food — somehow all my project titles end up being food-related. Karma Korma will be a seven-episode series, and I have a strong feeling people are going to enjoy this ride.”
Between takes, the room buzzed with low chatter and clinking cups of tea. A thermos of hot water sat on a prop table alongside a lace doily and a half-eaten Marie biscuit. The fish bowl burbled in the background, soft neon light reflecting in Sohini’s eyes during a quiet scene. As the camera rolled again, a familiar Bengali song played softly in the background. Sohini’s character sat silently, watching the lone fish swim in the tank. Her expression shifted — for a moment, there was light. Happiness. Maybe even hope.
Then came lunch break.
The actors dispersed, and we walked through the damp corridors toward the vanity vans parked outside. A sharp contrast to the dim house — bright sun had broken through the clouds, casting dramatic shadows on puddled pavement. Inside one of the vans, Ritabhari Chakraborty was a burst of colour and cheer. She stood in front of a mirror in a cheery yellow tulle skirt paired with a sharp, chic blazer — her “work-day” look, she joked, before she slipped into character.
Soon, she’d be changing into a Masaba sari from her own wardrobe collection — a riot of prints and personality. “My character knows how to wear a storm and smile. She’s stylish, self-assured, and carries her own secrets. In many ways, she’s very close to how I dress in real life, which is why we’re using a lot of my personal jewellery and outfits for the role — honestly, Shahana and I have very similar style. I’ve been playing a lot of emotionally intense, unstable characters lately, so this feels like a refreshing shift. Shahana loves to dress up; there’s flair and mystery in her, but also something deeply grounded. Pratim and I had spoken about collaborating for a while, and I’m so glad it’s finally happening — and with a story I genuinely love,” she said, adjusting her blazer. “Stylish, eccentric, and dangerous — in the best way.”
In Karma Korma, Ritabhari and Sohini’s characters meet at a cooking class — a chance encounter over burnt custard and coriander confusion probably — and their unlikely friendship slowly becomes the spine of the story. It’s a tale of shared silences, late-night chats, and secrets marinated in saffron and grief. It’s about women who choose each other over their circumstances. Over karma. Over korma.
Back on set, the rain returned lightly, brushing against window panes. The light dimmed again, and the crew shuffled back into position. Pratim gave a subtle nod. The camera rolled once more. And for that moment — inside the flickering fishbowl of grief, investigation, womanhood, and quiet strength — Karma Korma began to simmer into something unforgettable.