Sasuraal Genda Phool Season 1 (01 March 2010 – 21 April 2012) achieved in two years what Anupama has failed to do in five dragging seasons: dignity, coherent storytelling, real emotions, and a female lead who actually grows instead of turning into a national-level crying statue.
SGP began with Suhana Bajpai — a girl raised in comfort but starved of love. Kamal Kishore Bajpai, a wealthy businessman, gave her everything money could buy, but failed at the one thing no amount of money can replace: a mother’s love. Vidisha’s death left a hole that never healed. Suhana grew up with branded clothes, luxury trips, and fancy rooms, but not a single person who understood her pain. Then Sid broke her heart, shattering the last corner of safety she had.
But Suhana wasn’t your standard ITV crying machine. She was fire and fractures — loud, impulsive, sarcastic, stubborn, hurt, fiercely human. She didn’t want pity. She wanted the world to keep its distance.
One day, in the middle of her emotional chaos, she told KK Bajpai to pick any groom. She didn’t care. Destiny, tired of her breakdowns, staged that accident between KK and Ishaan, dragging her into the only family who could actually save her.
KK saw in the Kashyaps everything money could never buy: warmth, affection, emotional security, and family bonds. At first, Suhana didn’t see it. One day she even yelled at KK, claiming he ruined her life by marrying her into a family that wasn’t rich. It wasn’t entitlement. It was decades of emotional starvation exploding at once.
Slowly, painfully, Suhana learnt the truth: it’s love and warmth that give happiness, not luxury or money.
She entered Kashyap House not as a perfect bahu, but as a confused, hurting young woman who didn’t know marriage, responsibility, or emotional boundaries.
Then she found Badi Maa — Shailaja Kashyap — the mother she lost but finally found again. Their bond wasn’t syrupy melodrama. It was healing. When Suhana said, “Aap such main meri maa hain. Aapke bina mujhe pata hi nahi chalta maa kaise hoti hai,” it wasn’t written for TRPs. It was raw truth.
With Badi Maa, she softened without losing her fire.
With Ishaan, she matured without losing her identity.
And Sonali gave her a reality check — no lectures, no tears, just actions. Going for a movie with Ishaan on his scooter made Suhana face her feelings. She finally said the line that changed everything: “I love you, Ishaan.” Growth, clarity, comedy, and emotion — all in perfect balance.
With the Sonali track, she didn’t fall — she rose. Her love was earned, dignified, and rooted in clarity.
This is how you write a female lead with respect.
A show that pretended to show empowerment but delivered only one lesson: how to destroy a female lead for TRPs.
Anupama chants “new beginnings” like a mantra, but every so-called fresh start ends in the same miserable place — Shah House, the most toxic address in Indian TV history. She gets insulted, humiliated, and exploited every single day, yet still returns with tiffins, tears, and endless lectures like the Shahs’ unpaid servant.
Anuj didn’t get a new life.
Choti Anu didn’t get a normal childhood.
Both were crushed under the weight of Anupama’s toxic Shah baggage because she could never cut ties with the people and problems that had already destroyed her life.
Kanta, the only sane mother figure, was shoved aside like furniture nobody wants. Meanwhile, the Shahs remained the center of Anupama’s universe.
And the jail arcs? Comedy gold — unintentionally brutal.
Jewelry hidden in her bag? Jail.
Food poisoning she didn’t even cause? Jail again.
Someone sneezes too loudly? Audience joked she’d go to jail for air pollution.
This isn’t empowerment.
This is character destruction on loop.