‘Kohrra’ Season 2 (2026) Netflix Series Review - Lightning Strikes Twice

Like the first season, Kohrra Season 2 is incredibly faithful to its title. Its intentions, themes, and the secrets of its characters are hidden in plain sight, beneath a thick, foggy layer. The clues are right there—like the scornful remarks directed at servants. Even within the narrative, one notices a wife's obliviousness to her husband's discomfort around another woman. If the obvious isn't immediately evident, it's because no one looks in the right direction.

In Season 2, when a woman is found murdered, suspicion falls on her husband and her lover. ASI Amarpal Jasjit Garundi (Barun Sobti) notes that one of the two is convicted in 80% of such cases. All the signs, too, point toward these men. The victim, Preet (Pooja Bhamrrah), had been quarreling with her lover shortly before being murdered, and Tarseem (Rannvijay Singh), her husband, had sent her death threats. The only person, apart from them, who seems like a potential suspect is Preet's brother, Baljinder (Anurag Arora), who had argued with her over a property just days before the murder.

If you have watched Season 1, you already know that the final reveal won't come bearing simple explanations. Kohrra isn't just about a victim and a killer; it's about society at large and the conditions it creates—conditions that eventually lead to death and destruction. Over the course of six tense, tightly constructed episodes, the metaphorical fog slowly lifts. For instance, two things that initially appear different gradually reveal elements in common.

Take Episode 1, where we see Amarpal and his wife, Silky (Muskan Arora), in domestic bliss—flirting, laughing, indulging in full-blown romance. This is followed by the depiction of emotional drought in Dhanwant Kaur's (Mona Singh) home. The atmosphere there is cold and gloomy; she shares an estranged relationship with her husband, who is often found drunk and unconscious in bars. As the story progresses, however, a similarity between the two households emerges: both break—or are already broken—under the pressure of unspoken confessions. In each, a communication gap widens the gap between spouses.

Everybody's personal life is fractured in some way. A wife accuses her husband of having an affair, and he responds by slapping her during an argument. A brother and sister fight over property. A son desperately searches for his father. A man leaves his pregnant wife and seeks refuge in a Gurudwara. Kohrra could easily have slipped into monotony, given this pervasive melancholia. Thankfully, it allows humor to break through without losing its earnestness. Certain moments—like the Miracle Mela—expose a society damaged by superstition, while a board with a misspelled "Extara" links broken English to a world fractured by greed, disparity, and exploitation.

A chase sequence set to Ishq Tera Tadpave is another inspired choice. The beats are energetic, but the lyrics tell a different story altogether: Taare gin gin yaad vich teri main tan jaagan raatan nu / Rok na paavan akhiyan vichon gham diya barsaatan nu (Counting stars, lost in your memories, I stay awake through the nights / I can't stop the rain of sorrow from pouring out of my eyes). At the same time, another chase—where a car pursues an auto while driving in reverse—can be enjoyed without much intellectualization.

The characters' lives are so bleak that it's no surprise they find warmth and companionship at work, among their colleagues. When Dhanwant throws up, Amarpal offers her a glass of water. After a tense confrontation between Dhanwant and her husband, Amarpal checks in on her the next day at the police station. On Lohri, when Amarpal asks if he can complete the remaining work the following day so he can celebrate with his wife, Dhanwant recognizes that she's speaking to a man with a private life to return to—and grants his request. This contrasts sharply with an earlier moment when Amarpal's plea, while he's on a half day, is met with a scoff from Dhanwant.

Dhanwant and Amarpal's relationship begins as strictly professional and gradually deepens into something more empathetic and understanding. The more they learn about each other, the more they see each other as human. This is where Mona Singh and Barun Sobti's performances truly excel. As their characters draw closer, a striking similarity emerges in the actors' performances as well. It's difficult to articulate, but it's perceptible—you sense Singh and Sobti slowly aligning to a shared emotional wavelength. By the end, Amarpal and Dhanwant exist on the same emotional register. This unfussy acting style is quietly explosive, and it's now impossible to imagine anyone else in place of these two actors.

Given current events, a show like Kohrra cannot exist in isolation. It makes its points without ever preaching. This restraint is what sets it apart from other crime thrillers that are content to remain all surface and sensation. The topical—or perhaps evergreen—lesson arrives when the "fog" finally clears. With its second season, Kohrra once again proves itself to be smart and assured—one of the finest entries in the crime-thriller space. It never overindulges in detail or drowns itself in exposition. The show trusts its audience, revealing just enough for viewers to draw the required connections. The year has only just begun, but Kohrra Season 2 already feels like an early contender for one of the best shows of the year. It's a must-watch—and a gripping page-turner.

Final Score- [9/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times