Actor Harsh Chhaya has drawn a sharp line between Indian television's golden era and its post-2000 landscape, pinpointing the arrival of Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi as the inflection point where content priorities fundamentally changed. Speaking in an exclusive interview, the veteran performer articulated how the family drama's massive success triggered a cascade of format imitation that prioritised speed over storytelling rigour.

The pre-2000 versus post-2000 divide

Chhaya emphasised the stark contrast between television made before the iconic show's debut and what followed. "There is a very distinct change in what was happening before 2000 and what started happening after the first episode of Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi. There is a clear difference between the two," he said. The shift, he suggested, was not merely stylistic but reflected a wholesale reorientation toward volume production over narrative credibility.

Absurdity in modern daily soaps

Chhaya cited a recent viewing experience to illustrate the creative hollowing he observes. While scrolling through a popular daily soap, he encountered a scene in which family members stood anxiously in a balcony while the lead pair dangled from a kite mid-flight—the heroine feigning terror at a fall while the hero gripped with one hand. "You could clearly see the aluminium support holding them," Chhaya noted, underscoring how production shortcuts became visible to any attentive viewer. The absence of even basic verisimilitude, he implied, had become normalised.

Logic abandoned for speed

He recounted a scene he had been offered as a doctor: a patient collapses, he brings the person home, panic ensues, and he suddenly diagnoses a drug overdose by opening the patient's eyes—then produces the exact antidote from his bag. "I was thinking, how do I know what drug he took? Why am I carrying its antidote with me? How did I figure out the drug just by opening his eyes and without any tests?" Chhaya asked, highlighting the narrative incoherence that now passes for drama. When he raised such concerns on set, the standard response was pragmatic indifference: "Sir, we don't have time."

Craft surrendered to content quotas

The core grievance, Chhaya suggested, is systemic. "Earlier, if you had doubts about a scene, you could speak to the director and make changes. Today, there's someone on set whose only job is to finish 22 minutes of content," he explained. The person tasked with content completion has become the de facto arbiter, rendering creative consultation moot. Questions about plausibility or character consistency are treated as obstacles to production targets rather than legitimate artistic concerns.

Affection amid frustration

Despite his candid critique, Chhaya remains emotionally invested in the medium. "For a matter of fact, I love television. Whatever identity I have today, it has come through television," he said, acknowledging television's role in building his three-decade career across acclaimed series such as Hasratein, Tara, and Koshish – Ek Aashaa. His recent appearance in the OTT series Undekhi—alongside Varun Badola and Gautam Rode—earned critical praise, suggesting that the actor continues to seek out projects where narrative integrity is prioritised. The tension between his love for television and his frustration with its current operational model underscores a broader industry anxiety about whether the medium can reclaim the storytelling ambition that once defined it.