We see a thing, wiry middled aged man in a typical Mumbai 1 BHK. The man is kissing his young kids good night. He gets a cup of tea from his wife who complains about a broken tap in the kitchen and the man promises to get everything done. He is a picture of a well mannered man, a loving fa- ther and a caring husband. A gruff looking man comes to meet him and tells him and the rich boy has got the message. He is Naushad, the man calling Ankush incessantly. He calls Ankush again. While his phone is ringing, Ankush is surrounded by his friends and his parents in a swanky...
