Recovering from an unhappy marriage, personal trainer Malik relocates to the village of Kalabola, nestling snugly in the armpit of Sri Lanka’s largest lake, which spreads its tentacles, octopus-like, between Colombo and Kalutara. Do octopuses have armpits? Possibly not. If they did, Kalabola would be curled right in there. When Covid strikes, the villagers are mortified. It’s Karma, obviously. What have they done to deserve this very personal insult? How will they ever again hold their heads high in Gampaha and Warakapola? They are now the chosen ones, chosen to be humiliated in this utterly shameful-no, shameless!-manner. In this deliciously dark Sri Lankan romantic comedy, lines between hero and villain are smudged. Love arrives in strange disguises, politics get deeply personal, redemption is just a rumour. At its centre stands Karma, who may well be its true leading lady.

As the arch-villain and local MP Biju puts it, ‘If you don’t ride your Karma, you’ll find one day your Karma riding you.’

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