Dupahiya Review: Crime-Free Chaos, Dowry Dramas And One Very Missing Bike
Release Date : 07 Mar 2025
Dupahiya isn’t just a show, it’s a delightful little rebellion against formulaic content.
Directed - Sonam Nair
Writer - Avinash Dwivedi, Chirag Garg
Screenplay - Srinivas Avasarala
Creator - Avinash Dwivedi, Chirag Garg, Salona Bains Joshi, Shubh Shivdasani
Cast - Gajraj Rao, Renuka Shahane, Sparsh Shrivastava, Shivani Raghuvanshi, Bhuvan Arora
Episode – 9
Platform – Amazon Prime Video
In the ever-bubbling cauldron of Indian OTT content, Dupahiya zooms in like a two-wheeler with a wonky horn—odd, endearing, slightly unpredictable, but thoroughly entertaining. Streaming on Amazon Prime Video, this rural comedy is anything but simple, even though it tries very hard to pretend it is. Created by Avinash Dwivedi, Chirag Garg, Salona Bains Joshi, and Shubh Shivdasani, and directed by Sonam Nair, Dupahiya manages to be that rare gem: a social satire that never wags its finger at you, but still manages to poke you in the ribs (with love, of course).
Set in the charmingly fictional village of Dhadakpur—India’s proud, self-declared "only crime-free village"—the show kicks off with a celebration and a looming disaster. For 24 years, this village hasn’t seen a single crime. That is, until a dupahiya (read: a shiny two-wheeler) gifted as dowry is stolen. Chaos ensues, and it's the kind that’s part comedy of errors, part small-town noir, and part desi telenovela, but without the overacting and slow-motion closeups. Thank God.
At the heart of it is the Jha family, led by Gajraj Rao in peak “middle-class meltdown” mode. His daughter (the radiant Shivani Raghuvanshi) is about to get married, but without that blessed vehicle, the wedding might just hit the brakes. Enter Sparsh Srivastava, the younger brother with Sherlock Holmes dreams and Scooby-Doo-level sleuthing skills, and Bhuvan Arora, the lovelorn ex with more heart than common sense. Add to the mix Renuka Shahane’s fabulous pradhaan, who could give any politician a run for their manifesto, and Yashpal Sharma’s suspiciously enthusiastic cop who smells crime like a bloodhound with a grudge, and you’ve got a recipe for delicious disarray.
What really sets Dupahiya apart, though, is its script. The writing, co-helmed by Avinash Dwivedi, Chirag Garg, and screenplay writer Srinivas Avasarala, is zippy, witty, and surprisingly layered. It tackles everything from kleptomania to colorism to the dowry system—serious stuff—but does so while keeping the comedy front and center. It’s like a paratha stuffed with social commentary but served with a giant dollop of ghee-laced laughter. You won’t feel preached to, but you’ll definitely feel something, usually while giggling.
Performance-wise, Dupahiya is an acting masterclass. Sparsh and Bhuvan are a revelation—channeling their inner clowns, sleuths, and saints all in one go. Renuka Shahane is flawless (as usual), and Gajraj Rao once again plays the everyman unraveling at the seams like no one else can. Shivani Raghuvanshi gets a monologue that deserves an encore, and even the minor characters—from the sleazy groom to the nosy neighbors—shine like scene-stealing fireflies.
And let’s not forget the aesthetic—this show is drenched in rural textures, vibrant colors, and background music that knows exactly when to be cheeky and when to shut up. It’s whimsical without being cloying, and grounded without ever feeling heavy.
Dupahiya isn’t just a show, it’s a delightful little rebellion against formulaic content. It’s not trying to be Panchayat, though comparisons are inevitable. Instead, it confidently carves its own space in the “rural-comedy-with-a-conscience” genre (which, yes, we are now officially recognizing as a genre). It’s Hrishikesh Mukherjee meets Scooby-Doo with a dash of Welcome to Sajjanpur energy. If that doesn’t get you curious, nothing will.
So buckle up, don’t forget your helmet (dowry or otherwise), and ride into Dhadakpur with Dupahiya. It might be crime-free, but it’s definitely full of drama.