Shapath is about to complete 75 action-packed episodes. For the husband-wife team of Homi Wadia and Nikita Shah, who have previously produced and directed Mano Ya Na Mano, the Shapath story began year and a half back when Zee approached them for a "police story". That was difficult enough but it was further compounded by an unforeseen factor: they were being offered the same slot as the highly successful, bitter-sweet drama Tara . "And suddenly they (audiences) had to deal with a dry subject of a total police serial," recalls Nikita, who writes the script. Also, would the viewingpublic appreciate a saga of blood and gore at the prime time 9 pm slot?.

It was going to be tricky. But after much research into actual police records and heated arguments between them, the duo decided to sprinkle the stereotyped cops and robbers story with gloss, mirch and masala: "With plot, subplot and sub-subplot. So many minor cases have been intervowen to make it look like one story," explains Nikita. Shapath portrays not just the on-the-job life of three IB officers -- played by Kiran Kumar, Nikita and Homi -- but also their private pains and tribulations. For example, the personal angle is explored through the kidnapping of Nikita's son by the mysterious arch-villian called High Command.

The main thrust of the serial is to reveal the positive face of the police. "We never show a hawaldar tambaku ghiste huye, taking even a Rs 50 bribe, swearing or beating up someone," says Nikita. But she hotly deny this portrayal is a distortion, a whitewash of the police. "We are talkingabout good, honest cops. We don't even want to look at those who are corrupt," adds Nikita, pointing out that if the police was largely corrupt, none of us would be able to sleep comfortably at night.

The story of Shapath tries to avoid pretentions; or insulting the intelligence of the viewer. Instead it attempts to be all things to all people -- and looking at the high TRPs, it appears to have succeeded in that task. Homi says that the serial has been well- received by the audience because it is a sleek and pacey product, with fast visual cuts. An episode of 22 minutes often has more than 25 scenes in it. But Homi relies more on intuition than technique -- he does not plan his shots or even his locations.

Also, the serial is refreshingly devoid of cliches -- the murder sequences may be stereotyped, but the behaviour patterns of the characters are not. A drunkard does not stagger around and a murderer does not have an evil glint in his eyes. Instead, shades of black and white are conveyed through`accidental' glimpses -- the audience may have a fleeting glimpse of a gun under the villians coat. "We don't create impressions through words or facial expressions. I am not saying he is a villian, the audience is!"

explains Homi. The other rule he sticks to is never to dramatise a dramatic moment. For example, a murder is inherently dramatic. "So why overdo it with music or blood and gore? I build it up before and after, but during the murder itself the graph falls," says Homi.

Lastly, the producers do not end every episode on a pseudo-dramatic note. "Never with a false hook. Never with the actor opening a door and gaping wide-eyed... and then starting the next episode with the sabziwali standing at the door!" muses Nikita. The bottom line is to give the audience their money's worth -- watching the serial should be a paisa-vasool experience. Concludes Homi, "If you want to do experiments, do them in your house or on your terrace, not on prime time television!"