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 sugarcoat the brutality of its subject matter. It doesn’t shy away from the ugliness, and that’s precisely why it’s necessary viewing.
What many people don’t realize is that true crime narratives often walk a fine line between exploitation and education. Raakh leans heavily toward the latter, thanks to Prosit Roy’s masterful storytelling. From my perspective, Roy’s non-manipulative approach to emotional depiction is a breath of fresh air in an era where trauma is often sensationalized for clicks. The show doesn’t beg for your tears; it demands your attention. And it’s this very restraint that amplifies its impact.
One thing that immediately stands out is Sonali Bendre’s performance. Karan Johar called it ‘career-defining,’ and I couldn’t agree more. Her portrayal of a mother grappling with unimaginable loss isn’t just acting—it’s a masterclass in vulnerability. What this really suggests is that Bendre has been underrated for far too long. Her ability to convey grief without resorting to melodrama is a testament to her craft. If you take a step back and think about it, performances like hers are rare in an industry that often rewards the loudest, not the most nuanced.
But Raakh isn’t just about individual brilliance; it’s a collective effort that shines a light on systemic failures. The 1978 case didn’t just traumatize a family—it exposed the cracks in India’s justice system and parental paranoia. As a parent myself, I found the show deeply unsettling. It raises a deeper question: How safe are our children, really? The answer, unfortunately, isn’t comforting.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how the show avoids glorifying the perpetrators. There’s no romanticization of their ‘inner devil,’ as Johar aptly put it. This isn’t Mindhunter or Dahmer—it’s a story about victims, not villains. And that’s a bold choice in a genre that often fetishizes the latter.
If there’s one critique I’d offer, it’s that Raakh might be too heavy for some viewers. It’s not a show you binge-watch; it’s one you endure. But perhaps that’s the point. Art that challenges us isn’t always comfortable, but it’s always necessary.
In my opinion, Raakh is more than a series—it’s a conversation starter. It forces us to confront the darkness within and without. And in a world where true crime is often reduced to entertainment, that’s no small feat. So, if you’re up for it, watch Raakh. Just be prepared to carry its weight long after the credits roll.
