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‘Kahaani Terri Merri’ – lessons from a formula gone awry
Late last year, we (not the viewers but the trade) mourned the untimely demise of Madhuri Dixit‘s Kahin Na Kahin Koi Hai on Sony Entertainment Television (SET).Less than a year later, SET is about to pull off air its most recent big budget Balaji soap Kahaani Terri Merri (last episode airs 15 May) – actually billed as the biggest and Ektaa Kapoor‘s dream project. When it launched, SET officials had referred to it as the most ‘lavish‘ and ‘extravagant‘ serial ever made on Indian television. Now, media reports have quoted SET officials as saying that the ‘blockbuster‘ had nothing to differentiate it from the ‘rest‘ of the ‘kitchen politics‘ sagas!
Sure enough, not many people will cry over the not really unexpected jettisoning of Kahaani Terri Merri.
All the same, there are important lessons to be learnt from the same… not just for SET but also for Star (is fatigue setting in for saas bahu sagas?), Zee (will offbeat offerings and bold experimentation succeed if showcased on the No. 1 channel platform?), Sahara (should it have gone all out and promoted its forthcoming blockbuster Karishma more than what it is currently doing?) and all the other channels. Questions, questions!
The following is a post-mortem analysis of the same:
* Differentiation not possible in this age of standardisation
The point is that serials today cannot be different from the rest because channel programming teams have a clear cut idea about how the sets should look; how the actors should look; the locations should look.
The walls of “middle class” homes in serials looking as if freshly painted and gearing up for a paint TV commercial, women characters wearing silk sarees while working in the kitchen – these are supposed to be aspirational according to channel programming teams.
Writer director Ravi Rai who has been appreciated for work in serials and soaps such as Sailaab, Thoda Hai Thode Ki Zaroorat Hai, Imtihan, Sparsh and Teacher recounts one particular instance: “The representatives of the programming team and other departments of one particular channel conducted meetings for nearly two months and 14 days on just one aspect of the programme which I had created for them – the title montage. Interestingly, none of them thought to ask the creator or originator of the programme – me. They came with several different concepts – including visuals of a Swiss chalet.”
* Creatively inclined TV software makers have to contend with a heavier dose of interference now than ever before
If one goes down memory lane, it was individuals with passion and zeal who created some of the most well known entertainment brands. Most of these successful programmes were created when channels were fledgling and channel programming executives were unheard of.
In the current scenario, there have been so many instances of creatively inclined software makers either rebelling against the interference or compromising in entirety due to financial and other considerations.
Sagar Arts marketing director and producer Prem Sagar has something interesting to say: “As far as interference is concerned, I would like to draw a simile between the stars of 1960-70s. The stars in those days were good actors and they never bothered or dictated to the good film makers. They realised that these film makers would enhance their creativity and stardom.”
Sagar adds: “Private broadcasters realise that they cannot meddle with the creativity of reputed houses such as ours which have doled out winners since half a century. Remember, creativity is all about deewangee or junoon – a certain kind of passionate madness.”
* Good ideas and concepts get lost during implementation
There is a strong feeling that several producers and channel programming executives have thought of some good ideas, themes and concepts. However, they are so bogged down in the routine that they simply don‘t have the energy or conviction to carry their ideas forward during the implementation stage.
* Programming executives and producers ignore literature
Cost-conscious producers don‘t invest in quality writers. Moreover, very few amongst the business minded programming team members would appreciate that successful ideation for entertainment software has to plunge deep into the ‘ocean of literature‘ to come up with ‘pearls‘.
At the end of it all, the writer is supreme. Even Amitabh needed a brilliant script and magical words “Computerji…” for Kaun Banega Crorepati.
* Tendency to cover one‘s back
Career conscious programming team members or producers who wish to make a quick buck always have a tendency to avoid risks and stick to tested formulae. Executives and producers who have got used to a particular kind of a lifestyle seldom have the will to take risks and compromise their existing situation of well-being.
* Realisation that “Entertainment brands are illusory, elusive and magical…”
We quote a statement made by the best there is in the business today – Star India COO Sameer Nair – at an advertising seminar. Nair stated that successful entertainment products evolve daily and have a life and personality of their own. Once created, they feed on themselves, constantly reinvent themselves and transcend their basic achievements. Nair also agrees that there is no one winning formulae. One keeps on experimenting till one accidentally hits upon the ‘golden idea‘.
* Proper Marketing and communication is a must
Other than plastering billboards and painting trains, Sahara TV is still to go into overdrive to create hype and hoopla around its 260-episode multi-starrer daily serial Karishma (debuts 12 May) starring Bollywood actress Karisma Kapoor and other stars such as Jugal Hansraj, Arbaaz Khan, Sanjay Kapoor, Aayub Khan. Media would lap up these stars!
It is pertinent to mention that MAX did a much better job by leveraging media attention – good or bad – on Mandira Bedi. Eventually, the publicity rubbed off on Extraaa Innings and got ‘extraaa moolah‘!
Speaking at an ad industry forum, UTV Group director Zarina Mehta mentioned that the reasons for the success and failure of TV programmes were linked to marketing and communication plans; ability to offer simple propositions with a new twist and proper testing of concepts and new ideas. Mehta also stated that there were clear gaps in children‘s programming and comedies.
Star‘s Nair felt that brands are basic to human existence and the concepts of names and nationality has originated from this need. Entertainment products are inanimate but the marketers breathe life into them. However, a human touch is essential to provide a lifelike experience, Nair added. The objective is to ensure that the entertainment brands outlive the humans associated with the brands
* Marketing hype fails when the software doesn‘t have a soul – ‘Give me more‘ soul!
SET tried it all and pulled out all stops to develop a marketing and promotional buzz around Kahaani Terii Merii. It entered into an alliance with Diamond Trading Company‘s Nakshatra brand to entice viewers. But this did not succeed.
Post Kaun Banega Crorepati, Kyuunki Saas…and Kahaani Ghar Ghar Ki…, Star India tried several things and kept experimenting. The programmes have got ratings and have entered the Top 100 lists but none of the new programmes have created the kind of impact the above three did. Is the soul and heart missing somewhere? One remembers what a film critic said about feature film maker Karan Johar‘s first (Kuch Kuch Hota Hai) and second film (Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham): “The first one was made straight from the heart while he used his brains to make the second one!”
* The last rule overshadows all the above – the Indian housewife is omnipotent and omniscient
As MPG South Asia CEO V Ramani says: “Women audiences have got hooked on to the top channels. Indian women have no time or inclination to experiment too much. Our research indicates that the same women (not just in terms of psychographic or demographic profile) watch the same programmes on certain time bands on certain days across channels.”
Ramani adds: “The audiences will take their own sweet time to switch on to Sahara and SAB – despite the recent strong bids made by these channels. It will require a major innovation or a brilliant idea to change things topsy turvy!”
No one is claiming that it is easy, but the search for that major innovation or brilliant idea needs to be stepped up not slowed down. After all, the current formula is looking decidely frayed at the edges.
MUMBAI: 2025 will be remembered as the year India’s OTT industry stopped chasing scale for its own sake and began reckoning with how audiences actually consume content. Completion rates fell, patience wore thin and the limits of long-form excess became impossible to ignore. In this guest column, Pratap Jain, founder and CEO of ChanaJor, traces how micro-drama moved from the fringes to the centre of viewing behaviour, why short-form fiction emerged as a retention engine rather than a trend, and how platforms that respected time, habit and emotional payoff were the ones that truly grew up in 2025.
If there is one thing 2025 will be remembered for in the Indian OTT industry, it’s this: the industry finally stopped pretending.
Stopped pretending that bigger automatically meant better.
Stopped pretending that viewers had endless time.
Stopped pretending that scale without retention was success.
What began as a quiet reset in 2023 and a cautious correction in 2024 turned into a very visible shift in 2025. Business models matured. Content strategies tightened. And most importantly, platforms started aligning themselves with how Indians actually watch content, not how the industry wished they would.
At the centre of this shift was micro-drama—not as a trend, but as a behavioural inevitability.
When OTT finally understood the time problem
For years, long episodes were treated as a marker of seriousness. A 45–60 minute runtime was almost a badge of credibility. Shorter formats were pushed to the margins, labelled as “snack content” or “mobile-only.”
That belief quietly collapsed in 2025.
What platform data showed very clearly was not a drop in interest—but a drop in patience. Viewers weren’t rejecting stories. They were rejecting commitment.
Across platforms, the same patterns appeared:
* First-episode drop-offs on long-form shows kept increasing
* Completion rates continued to slide
* Viewers were sampling more titles but finishing fewer
At the same time, shows with episodes in the six to 10 minute range started showing the opposite behaviour: higher completion, higher repeat viewing, and stronger daily habit formation.
Micro-drama didn’t win because it was short. It won because it respected time.
Micro-Drama didn’t arrive loudly. It took over quietly.
There was no single moment when micro-drama “launched” in India. It crept in through dashboards and retention charts.
By mid-2025, it was clear that viewers were happy watching four, five, sometimes six short episodes in one sitting—even when they wouldn’t finish a single long episode. Romance, relationship drama, slice-of-life conflict, and grounded comedy worked especially well.
This wasn’t disposable content. It was compressed storytelling.
In shorter formats, there was no room for indulgence. Every episode had to move the story forward. Weak writing was punished faster. Strong writing was rewarded immediately.
Micro-drama raised the bar instead of lowering it.
Where ChanaJor naturally fit into this shift
ChanaJor didn’t pivot to micro-drama in 2025 because the market demanded it. In many ways, the platform was already built around the same viewing behaviour.
From the beginning, ChanaJor focused on short-to-mid-length fictional stories that felt close to everyday Indian life—hostels, rented flats, office romances, small-town relationships, young people figuring things out. Stories that didn’t need heavy context or cinematic scale to connect.
What worked in ChanaJor’s favour in 2025 was clarity:
* A clearly defined audience
* Tight episode lengths
* Storytelling that prioritised emotion and pace over spectacle
While several platforms rushed to copy global micro-drama formats, ChanaJor stayed rooted in familiar Indian settings and conflicts. That familiarity mattered. Viewers didn’t have to “enter” the world of the show—it already felt like theirs.
Why audiences started responding differently
One of the biggest misconceptions going into 2025 was that audiences wanted shorter content because their attention spans had reduced. That wasn’t entirely true.
What viewers actually wanted was meaningful payoff per minute.
On platforms like ChanaJor, episodes didn’t waste time setting the mood for ten minutes. Conflicts arrived early. Characters were recognisable within moments. Emotional hooks landed fast.
A typical consumption pattern looked like real life:
* One episode during a break
* Two more before sleeping
* A few the next day
This is how viewing habits are built—not through marketing spends, but through comfort and consistency.
Viewers came back not because every show was a blockbuster, but because they knew what kind of experience to expect.
2025 was also the year OTT faced business reality
The other big change in 2025 was on the business side. Subscriber growth slowed. Discounts stopped hiding churn. Customer acquisition costs rose.
Platforms were forced to ask harder questions:
* Are viewers finishing what they start?
* Are they returning without reminders?
* Is this content worth what we’re spending on it?
This is where micro-drama began outperforming expectations. A well-written short series could deliver sustained engagement without massive budgets. It didn’t peak for one weekend and disappear—it stayed alive through repeat viewing.
Platforms like ChanaJor benefited because they weren’t chasing inflated launch numbers. The focus was on consistency and retention, not noise.
Failures Became Visible Faster
2025 also exposed weaknesses brutally.
Several platforms assumed micro-drama was a shortcut—short episodes, quick shoots, instant traction. What they discovered was that bad writing fails faster in short formats than in long ones.
Viewers dropped off within minutes. Episodes were abandoned mid-way. Weak stories had nowhere to hide.
Micro-drama didn’t forgive laziness. It amplified it.
The platforms that survived were the ones that treated short storytelling with the same seriousness as long-form—sometimes more.
OTT Stopped Chasing Prestige and Started Chasing Habit
Perhaps the most important shift in 2025 wasn’t technical or creative—it was psychological.
OTT stopped trying to look like cinema. It stopped chasing validation through scale and awards alone. It began behaving like what it actually is in people’s lives: a daily companion.
Platforms like ChanaJor found their space here because that mindset was already baked in. The goal wasn’t to dominate a weekend launch. It was to quietly become part of someone’s everyday viewing routine.
That shift changed everything—from release strategies to how success was measured.
What 2025 Ultimately Taught the Industry
By the end of the year, three truths were impossible to ignore:
* Time is the most valuable thing a viewer gives you
* Retention matters more than reach
* Format must follow behaviour, not ego
Micro-drama didn’t take over because it was fashionable. It took over because it fit real life.
Looking Ahead
Micro-drama is not replacing long-form storytelling. It is redefining the baseline of engagement.
Longer shows will survive—but only when they earn their length. Short-form fiction will continue to evolve, becoming sharper, more emotionally confident, and better written.
Platforms like ChanaJor have shown that it’s possible to grow without shouting—by understanding the audience, respecting their time, and telling stories that feel real.
2025 wasn’t the year OTT became smaller. It was the year it became smarter.
Note: The views expressed in this article are solely the author’s and do not necessarily reflect our own.
