#Aarya works for several reasons, but mostly because it’s committed to being a “TV series” in the best ways possible. In no hurry to move from one plot point to another, it instead lets its characters breathe, tracks unravel, arcs build languorously. Rare, in the Indian context.

The OTT space is largely obsessed with being “binge-worthy”, and a direct outcome of that seems to be fast-paced storytelling, multiple cliffhangers, quick character arcs. #Aarya is, rather remarkably, willing to put in the hard yards. Draw audiences in. Build viewer loyalty.

Another plus: #Aarya is a faithful remake, and adheres to its original source to the T. Yet the adaptation isn’t “lazy”. There’s an innate Indianness in every aspect of storytelling (like its use of Hindi music) that makes it unique in many ways. Sets the tone for future remakes.

(An unfortunate byproduct of #Aarya sticking to the original material is that certain plot points meant for a 2010 audience, seem outdated now. The-annoying-teenage-daughter-who’s-going-through-growing-up angst, for example, is an outdone TV trope, and all its beats predictable.)

Mainly, #Aarya soars under the stewardship of Ram Madhavani (and co-creator Sandeep ModI). There’s so much craft in the telling, it’s almost cinematic. Which is, again, remarkable because there’s still an inherent awareness of the medium. No flashiness. Just solid storytelling.

We’ve now watched two @RamKMadhvani-helmed stories in recent years - one involved a hijack, the other organized crime. And yet both creations are unmistakably about human emotion. It’s really something, to take on genre pieces and then infuse them with so much heart and empathy.

Things I have fallen in love with (again): Balika Badhu’s ‘Bade achhe lagte hain’, and @thesushmitasen. Sen exudes everything we already associate with her: magnetism, fierceness, style. But #Aarya required a tightrope between vulnerable and steely, and she walks it with aplomb.