Pratim Dasgupta’s Karma Korma, streaming on Hoichoi, does not play by the established rules of the conventional Bengali web thriller. It borrows the ingredients — crime, revenge, broken marriages, and a police investigation — but cooks up a dish that feels fresh.
The seven-episode thriller is Pratim’s first Bengali web series, and it shows the confidence of a filmmaker who knows exactly what he wants to explore. Karma Korma is not merely about food or revenge. It explores the emotional suffocation in relationships that force people to take the ultimate measure.
The story begins at a cooking workshop, where two women from very different social backgrounds meet. Shahana (Ritabhari Chakraborty) is a posh socialite from an affluent household, financially secure yet emotionally starved. She is childless, lonely, and largely invisible to her perpetually busy doctor husband, Arjun (Shataf Figar).
Jhinuk (Sohini Sarkar), on the other hand, belongs to a lower-middle-class Bengali household. She earns a living as a dubbing artist and spends her days dealing with financial stress and domestic violence at the hands of her alcoholic, unemployed husband Gopal (Pratik Dutta).
Their lives intersect through food and conversations. Both women are denied peace at home, both feel trapped in marriages that offer no refuge. A seemingly offhand joke — “You kill my husband, I’ll kill yours” — between them proves to be the flashpoint. Soon after, Gopal’s dead body is found on the street, and the plot changes course from the kitchen to police corridors.
The investigation is led by Bhupen (Ritwick Chakraborty). He is curious, sarcastic, and occasionally irritable. Alongside him is his junior, played by Durbaar Sharma, whose wit keeps the procedural track from becoming monotonous.
One of Karma Korma’s strengths lies in its balance in tone. The series flirts with comedy, yet never undermines the seriousness of its themes. Pratim’s use of fantasy sequences and imagined scenarios sometimes feel indulgent, but also function as windows into the characters’ fears and desires.
Performance-wise, the series is anchored by two formidable leads. Ritabhari Chakraborty delivers one of her most restrained and convincing performances in recent memory. Her Shahana has shades of grey, a welcome change from the good-girl image she has had on screen. Sohini Sarkar, as Jhinuk, is very relatable. Sohini embodies the exhaustion, fear, and suppressed rage of her character with ease.
Ritwick Chakraborty adds a sprinkle of unpredictability to Bhupen. His performance oscillates between wit and seriousness. Shataf Figar is suitably detached as Arjun, while Pratik Dutta makes Gopal villainous without slipping into caricature.
Prosenjit Chowdhury’s cinematography is another standout. The lighting underlines the domestic claustrophobia at the centre of the plot. Food, predictably, is shot with care.
Most importantly, the series sustains curiosity until its final episode. Gupta resists the temptation to spell everything out for viewers, allowing ambiguity to coexist with resolution.





