Like most female depictions in fiction, the bhabhi is mostly a passive presence with no interior life to speak of, and always caters to the male gaze.

In fact, viewers are made to believe that the bhabhijis just donвЂ™t get it, a ploy from the writers to make it all look like innocuous fun. The showвЂ™s gaze never allows viewers access to the women charactersвЂ™ thoughts or how they feel about the constant ogling. Oh, and thereвЂ™s also a pair of street-romeos in the story вЂ“ a bunch of slapstick characters who linger around the chai-tapri at the nukkad all day, whistling at and verbally teasing passing-by women.

Despite being each otherвЂ™s arch-nemeses, the only time these men come together is to get drunk at night and whine about their married lives. When oneвЂ™s wife is humming and watering the plants, the other goes up to her and quotes romantic shayari laced with sexual undertones that she is apparently too naive to understand. When oneвЂ™s wife is exercising in the morning, the other stares at her oh-so-creepily from his balcony, and recites Hindi poetry in praise of her beauty in his head. When talking to these women, they murmur risquГ© flirtations or double entendre that the women seem to never understand (or maybe, they just pretend to not have heard anything because itвЂ™s easier to ignore than deal with a lecherous neighbour вЂ“ a little something most women might find relatable). Now, let me break down what exactly it is that has taken the country by a hilair-storm: Two married men spend all their time salaciously crafting opportunities to ogle and be near their neighbourвЂ™s wife. But of course, all of that only contributes to the single most prominent reason why viewers have showered the show with such love and TRPs вЂ“ they find it hilarious. The characters are all unique, consistent, authentic, and seemingly well-researched. Its cast is made up of some raw theatre talent, thus doing ample justice to its street-play look and feel. Its rustic setting and street-comedic writing is far more relatable for mainstream audiences than the usual Indian TV fiction which has, for long, been fixated with creating unrealistically wealthy characters. The show deserves major credits for getting so many things right. Whenever they find their respective bhabhis alone at home, they leap at the opportunity to chat and sly-flirt with them. The title comes from its premise-defining catchphrase: Mr Tiwari is crushing hard on Mrs Mishra, Mr Mishra is crushing hard on Mrs Tiwari, and both the husbands are forever trying to impress and woo each otherвЂ™s wives. But as far as the Mishras are concerned, it is woman power all the way.Д¬ircling around the lives of the Tiwaris and the Mishras, Bhabhiji Ghar Par Hai! is an edgy comedy, and more importantly, IndiaвЂ™s current tele favourite.

In the Tiwari household, Mr Tiwari has the final say. Her jobless husband Vibhuti spends his days either doing household chores or flaunting the academic degree and faux English accent that he picked up during his student years at KanpurвЂ™s famous Chhapra University. Anita runs her own grooming classes and is a picture of elegance, what with her soft enunciation and tasteful Indian attire. Vibhuti and Anita Mishra, on the other hand, are perhaps the only gleam of sophistication around this decidedly deglam neighbourhood. Manoj and Angoori Tiwari are a simple twosome, a husband who doesnвЂ™t tuck his shirt in and dabbles in pure Hindi with the finesse of an unpoetic poet, and a ghoonghat-wearing wife who, with her sindoor and bright sarees and Bhojpuri dialect, is quite the desi damsel. R ight across a deserted lane of a Kanpur suburb, live two married couples вЂ“ the Tiwaris and the Mishras.

Savita bhabhi tv show