Meet Amay, one of the most organized person living in the most disorganized house. Working as an architect in a reputed firm, the opening shot involves him donning a suit and being presentable for a presentation, even while the dampness on the walls paint a timid picture about his psyche. At his workplace, you see his colleague and ‘girlfriend’ Zara (Shreya Chaudhry) pepping him up before his hig moment. That one little scene is enough to explain the fact that he is under-confident and a reluctant person as far as communication is concerned. And like every boy in this world, he shares a strained relationship with his father. This is evident when Amay has to visit his father and his sister after his mother’s death, that results in an awkward exchange between the ‘men’. And while the original plan remains of his father flying to the US to stay with Amay’s sister, a turn of fate forces Amay to spend time with his father….well for the better or the worse!

The core of the drama remains the searing yet heartfelt relationship between Amay and his father. You see a sense of awkwardness during each of their encounters early on – they are never really in a close proximity with each other. This is true even in their lighter moments with each other – in a scene, Amay’s father casually asks if he’d be interested in eating noodles, to which Amay declines. Yet, during a movie marathon on a rainy April morning, he silently indulges in the noodles while laughing away with his father. In this scene, you again do not see them sitting close to each other – the awkwardness and the lack of communication is pretty much evident. The writing also touches upon the dynamics of masculinity between them – an ego conflict that often results in a distance between two males. In a scene with the duo standing in a lift (probably the only instance wherein the two had to be in a close proximity with each other), are suddenly stranded due to a power failure. In a bid to escape, you see Amay crawling out of a sandwiched enclosure only for his father to exclaim that he will be cut into two. This, while his father doesn’t wish to take any help in getting out of the lift himself. These bittersweet chronicles forge their strained relationship that eventually shapes up with the time that is spent with each other. Incidently, the leaking roof and the tattered cloth are interesting symbolisms to identify with their personality and their relationship. The solution is there in sight but the gap lies in the communication.

One of the most interesting aspects of the drama remains its characterization outside the dynamics of Amay and his father. There is Anu (Puja Sarup) who suddenly has to mould herself to be the ‘female’ of the house after her mother’s death. Usually mothers remain a bridge of communication between the father and the son, but here with her absence, Anu needed to take that mantle. In a scene, after being fed up with all the bickering, you finally see her losing her cool briefly and asking the duo to be civil with each other. In another scene, she unsuccessfully tries to get Amay to speak to their father before budging and doing it herself. You also have Zara who isn’t reduced to Amay’s love interest. There is a sensitive feminine gaze that she brings into Amay’s life even while prepping him for his presentation, or providing an emotional support to him. In a gently moving scene after a major incident, when Amay frustratingly remarks on he can’t understand whether his father is an adult or his child, she gently replies that Amay is the child and he will always be his father. In contrast, Zara gels really well with Amay’s father and invariably becomes an emotional bridge between the two as well.

The drama does get into a niche zone between its second and third acts. You do get to know that Amay has been struggling with his job, just because he hasn’t been able to deal with an authoritative superior. The same traces its roots ‘probably’ from his childhood wherein he couldn’t standup to the authoritative nature of his father. There is an underlying current of grief also, more so on the part of Amay’s father who was close to his wife. He finds himself at a juncture wherein he initially had expected to leave the world before his wife, but sadly finds himself in solitude (unlike Amay who kind of thrives in his solitude). His children are away, he shares a strained relationship with his son, and he is about to be reallocated from HIS home that was the last ‘artifact’ as far as his wife is concerned. And hence, the entire passport fiasco was directed at his grief wherein he didn’t wish to change his address but he was forced to, resulting in all hell breaking loose!

The realisation that forms a major chunk of the subtly moving final act is represented through two major events – one being Amay finally realising his potential and his father’s ideologies of wanting him to think out of the ordinary, that sees him present a completely new design. This, also imbibes the cultural traces in an environment that he has brought up in. Elsewhere, you see his father indulging in a game of cricket wherein he repeatedly taunts a young boy (and his mentee) to ‘bowl like a MAN’. This, until an incident forces him to retrospect his erstwhile behavior towards a young Amay, who may have faced a similar fate as him. I liked how the drama did not offer a complete dialogue between the two – there was still room for improvement when the duo met for the final time. This was a bittersweet ending given that the duo may not meet each other ever, or alternately, a change of heart may see them reconcile. We may never know! But the screenplay comprises of these beautifully heartfelt moments that may not immediately move you, but would sure stay with you long after the film has ended.