New Delhi:
In the sleepy village of Dhadakpur, where “crime-free” is a status to boast about, the theft of a humble motorcycle stirs up a ruckus like no other.
It’s the kind of chaos that wouldn’t even make the local news in most places, but in Dhadakpur, where dowry is still prevalent and FIRs are practically unheard of, the small crime becomes the spark for a series of events that touch upon a smattering of life’s big issues – aspirations, love, family dynamics, and even gender roles.
Dupahiya, directed by Sonam Nair and written by Chirag Garg and Avinash Dwivedi, offers a quirky, slightly absurd tale, both grounded and whimsical, set against the backdrop of rural Bihar. It’s a story about a stolen motorcycle, but more importantly, it’s about the people who chase after it, trying to balance their traditions and their dreams.
The show introduces us to Banwari Jha (Gajraj Rao), a mild-mannered schoolteacher in Dhadakpur, whose life turns upside down when a motorcycle he purchased for his daughter Roshni’s wedding gets stolen.
This isn’t just any motorcycle – it’s a symbol of his hard work, a dowry item meant to please the groom and secure his daughter’s future. As Banwari scrambles to retrieve the bike, the plot unfurls to reveal the eccentric characters of Dhadakpur, all caught in their own little webs of desire, frustration, and small-town wisdom.
Banwari’s son, Bhugol (Sparsh Srivastava), a restless young man dreaming of a life beyond the village, and his friend Amavas (Bhuvan Arora), get caught up in the mission to find the missing motorcycle.
Along the way, they’re drawn into the absurdity of village life – whether it’s dealing with Pushpalata (Renuka Shahane), the ambitious would-be sarpanch, or trying to avoid the sleepy, but sharp, police inspector Mithilesh (Yashpal Sharma), each character adds their own flavour to the chaos.
At its core, Dupahiya aims to deliver a lighthearted comedy while also sprinkling in a healthy dose of social commentary. On the one hand, the show is rooted in the traditional village drama, where larger themes of dowry, marriage, and gender roles are explored through the lens of humour.
But on the other, it subverts expectations by introducing moments of self-awareness, particularly when it comes to women’s empowerment.
Roshni, the daughter caught in the middle of the chaotic preparations for her wedding, is far from the passive bride-to-be. The narrative hints at her desire to break free from the confines of her small-town life and make her own choices, setting the stage for her character’s quiet rebellion against her surroundings.
Even her friend Nirmal, the dark-skinned girl grappling with societal standards of beauty, adds to the layers of social critique that the show dips into as it moves forward.
Yet, while these themes of social issues are carefully woven into the narrative, there’s an undeniable sense that Dupahiya doesn’t quite know how to balance them against its comedy. The village’s fight against tradition – whether it’s the resistance to dowry or breaking free from old-fashioned gender norms – is brought up with sincerity, but it often feels overshadowed by the frantic comedy that takes center stage.
At times, the humour can feel too forced, especially when the plot takes detours into slapstick and quirky situations. The dialogue, too, feels repetitive at times, with catchphrases like “yeh Bihar ka Belgium hai” losing their charm after multiple uses.
But there are moments of brilliance when the characters speak more subtly, and the humour is allowed to breathe without the constant reliance on exaggerated antics.
The show’s greatest strength lies in its performances. Gajraj Rao, the ever-reliable actor, infuses Banwari with warmth and earnestness, making his character deeply relatable despite the absurdity of the plot.
The rest of the cast also delivers strong performances, with Sparsh Srivastava’s Bhugol and Bhuvan Arora’s Amavas providing the perfect blend of humour and heart.
Despite the occasional awkwardness in tone, Dupahiya still succeeds in creating a picture of small-town life that feels both familiar and absurd. The show manages to capture the unique blend of rural charm, where the old and new collide in funny and often poignant ways.
The writing, while sometimes lacking the sharpness it needs, succeeds in bringing out the quirks of its characters, who are often far more interesting than the plot itself. The humour is a mix of slapstick and satire, with the show walking the fine line between absurdity and heart.
While it doesn’t always hit the mark, there’s enough wit and warmth to keep you watching, even when the narrative veers into repetitive territory.
In the end, Dupahiya is a show that wears its heart on its sleeve, offering a nostalgic glimpse into rural India while also grappling with real issues that affect its characters. It’s a lighthearted, socially aware comedy that doesn’t take itself too seriously but also doesn’t shy away from addressing important themes. However, for all its charm and ambition, it occasionally struggles to find its rhythm.
What starts as a quirky tale of a missing motorcycle unfolds into something more complex, but whether it succeeds in balancing these elements is up for debate.
