As the plot unfolded I was taken back to days before my memory span existed, and got stuck in what I call Aradhana mode. Yes, the same ‘mere sapno ki rani’ Aradhana where Sharmila Tagore played the role of a young girl who becomes the loving victim of the moment of passion and then spends the rest of the story coming to terms with a world that is not forgiving of pre-marital sex and children out of wedlock.

But that was the 60s and the 70s. And this is now. I’d expect Dramanon and the author to reflect that the world was a better place or at least a place that’s more evolved. But sadly Bora’s reading of the world seems to be in a time warped Braille. Only the language has blossomed into a bouquet of blasphemies and vulgarities and the bodies have stopped pausing for distracting butterfly shots and indulge in a strange passionless kiss and a naive hips-apart hug.

Dey who played Karan did well to portray the friend who blundered into being a lover. But the third point of the triangle, Shekar...disappointed. When it was Maya’s time to perform she assumed that enacting a role that demanded a slutty, smoking performance (as she describes herself) was enough of a challenge and that no extra effort was required to reflect the anguish of a girl who blinked, just for a moment.

More than the play the script left me disturbed. I couldn’t accept that issues which were almost non issues in my parents’ time are still being touted as issues now. Today’s youth is a generation that knows about pills that you can take after the event and safely prevent pregnancies so I really don’t know if the subject was a current dilemma that society encountered everyday.

The interspersed TV viewing scenes however deserve mention as an innovation well executed and the Skoda Man who drives by at 11 every evening set the tone for the banter and for the finish in a comfortably loud pan.