I felt a sense of relief when we approached the season two finale of Made in Heaven. A lot of what Paromita Vohra said in her last column rang true to me; the over-abundance of a particular kind of English accent that carried connotations of class privilege, and the caricature-like quality of the fluctuating corollary cast in each episode. Paromita was so spot on about the listicle nature of the show’s approach to social issues. In some ways, the wedding planner identity of the its lead characters offers the perfect ruse to navigate the various toxicities that plague Indian society. But the lack of nuances at the level of the corollary characters felt frequently unsettling. Only the main protagonists are offered the right to complexity and dimensionality. This, unequivocally, is what sustained my interest, motivating me to watch to the end. I was particularly invested in Meher Chaudhary played by Trinetra Haldar. I enjoyed the intersectional nature of her feminism and the way she navigates her personal relationships. Also, the determination with which she puts herself out there, like she’s unafraid to live her true self.

Her character is almost the opposite of Karan (Arjun Mathur). If I were to theorise about the most glaring difference between them, I would say it’s located in their respective relationships with shame. There’s a moment in one episode when Meher is on a video call with her parents. It’s so moving to hear them use gender-affirmative language with her, and the conversation is loaded with undertones of love and respect. This is exactly what Karan lacks from his familial set-up. While his father gives him the respect he deserves, accepting his sexuality without wanting to change him, his mother, even on her death bed, tries to manipulate him into being the son she wanted him to be—heteronormative. It’s almost painful to watch Karan walking through the whole series shrouded in shame, and witnessing how the emotion permeates into all his other relationships, manifesting as defensiveness and aggression. The word that kept popping into my head was ‘radical honesty’. That’s what Meher demonstrates and is a quality Karan completely lacks.