Shabad review: When spirituality becomes about discovering faith, not merely inheriting it!

A sweet, simple six-episode series, Shabad becomes an insightful exploration between the rigidity of blind faith and the freedom and comfort that comes from belief, revealing the truest meaning of faith.

As someone who grew up questioning everything and placing a simple 'why' over every instruction, I may have been a difficult child but I was always curious. Which is why the faith handed to me as inheritance could never remain unquestioned; it had to be explored and understood for its spirituality, not merely followed as ritual. But that isn’t the reality for everyone. In India, religion is often received as a virasat, a predetermined identity, written into one’s DNA rather than discovered through personal exploration. Then following in the footsteps of our ancestors becomes a demand, not a choice. But isn’t faith meant to be belief, something deeply personal that evolves? A journey that moves from blind acceptance to conscious exploration, and finally to a version of faith we willingly choose for ourselves? That is precisely what Shabadis about!

Set within a Punjabi family whose legacy lies in singing kirtan and gurbani at gurudwaras, the series becomes a quiet exploration of what faith truly means. At its core is the conflict between a father and son. Harminder (Suvinder Vicky), proud of his generational inheritance and deeply rooted in tradition, is rigidly determined that his son carry forward the family’s gurbani legacy. His son, Ghuppi (Mihir Ahuja), however, struggles with a stammer and dreams instead of pursuing football, a game he excels at, unlike singing, which feels like a burden he is expected to bear. And caught between the tussle of the father and son are the mother and daughter who try to find some balance between these two.

Also Read: Vadh 2 review: A truly ‘arresting’ tale of justice that delivers unflinching social commentary and heart-winning catharsis!

A subject that engages so closely with religion and faith is inherently difficult to explore, which is precisely why it’s compelling to see how the show locates its central conflict around reet and riwaaz - two ideas that roughly translate to tradition within the framework of a family drama. Here, a father’s stubborn need to uphold legacy turns him into an almost villain-like figure in his children’s lives. Yet, he is never reduced to a one-note antagonist. Through Harminder’s struggles at his corporate job, where he is repeatedly asked to abandon the values shaped by his faith, we see a man who stands firm in the outside world but falters within his own home. He fails to understand that reet isn’t restrictive by nature; it can be liberating too.

Similarly, his son Ghuppi, who is bullied for his stammer, fails to grasp his father’s fear of losing a generational inheritance. To him, Harminder appears hard, rigid, and unyielding, without recognising that this rigidity is rooted in fear. In many ways, the two mirror each other, both consumed by their own struggles and emotions, rarely pausing to truly see the other. It’s only when the women of the household finally confront them, calling out their behaviour, that space is created for empathy and reflection. This is what makes the dysfunctional family drama not just intelligible, but deeply relatable.

What further elevates the series is the fact that it doesn’t use Punjab or gurbani as mere cultural markers. Instead, it creates a lived-in world. Performances by Suvinder Vicky, Mihir Ahuja, Maahi Jain, Taranjit Kaur, and others feel rooted, as though they’re speaking straight from the heart of Punjab. Moreover, gurbanihere becomes a mirror, even for those who sing it every day. As someone who grew up in Chandigarh, listening to gurbanion the school bus every morning, the series took me back to that habitual ritual where spirituality existed in the prayer itself, even when I didn’t fully understand its meaning. 

It is an overtly sweet and simple-minded show that isn’t too complex or layered, but it largely works because, in its insistence on seeing and making space for one another beyond yourself, the series, despite its preachiness, unevenness and flaws, becomes an exercise in grasping the true meaning of faith. It reminds us that Shabad, the words of the Guru Granth Sahib, aren’t honoured merely by singing gurbani, but by practising what is preached - by living the values they stand for.

Shabad - Reet aur Riwaaz is currently streaming on Zee5!

For more reviews, follow us on @socialketchupbinge.