If it works it works.

A plot is required to tell a story. The plot describes the characters' actions and how they react to the situations that inevitably happen to them and that they must deal with. And how the character solves a problem or handles a situation propels the plot forward. Actions define character. When characters speak, they reveal how they see themselves. Beatle and Ace just saw someone being kidnapped. They did not note down any plate numbers, nor did they see any of the criminal's faces that could help the police. All they saw is the girl. Beatle is terrified, but his friend Ace resumes life as if it was a regular Tuesday afternoon.

When they return to Ace's home, Beatle seats himself on the couch. I'm making tea to go along with the samosas, says Ace neither asking nor telling. He replaces the trash can under the kitchen sink. He turns off the other sources of electricity while shrouded in the kitchen light. According to him, they will live in darkness by 40. No one conserves. The sins of the father shall be visited upon his children. The tree tribe claims that only their wildest offspring will survive. The rest will perish. Beatle takes slow, deliberate sips of his tea. The woes and whispers of solitude have enchanted his heavy heart. Ace intrudes on his sessional sorrow exclaiming that the last month's electricity bill hit over the budget and he had to sleep on the ground because he didn't pull his weight around the house. Also, the milk had gone sour so he used milk powder. And Beatle's habit of eating schezwan with everything had diminished the month's ration for the sauce. So there was nothing to eat along with his samosas. To which he replies with an unsuitable hmm mumble. But his host ignores his illegible gesture. 

If you don't mind, I'll play a bit of CS: GO. Ace prepares his laptop and radiant glowing keyboard. He's in a good mood today. He pays little to no attention to the wallowing Beatle, even when he begins to sob. Ace hits headshots while yahoo-ing his way through his roommate's deep-seated sorrows, sobbing audibly. When the celebration hoots continue forever, Beatle flips the house's main switch. Making the entire flat look like an ancient man-hole.

Ace positions himself next to Beatle. Looking directly at him as Beatle looks away. Kya dikkat hain? Bol toh. Woh ladki... Beatle, mujhe aisa matt bol tu pichle 2 ghanto se uske baare mein hi soch raha hain? Beatle gives him nothing. Ace moves in front of him so that he's face to face with Beatle. Toh hogayi galti, nahi hit hua presence of mind, kitne baar bolega. 'Photo lena tha, car ka number note karna tha. Blah blah', says Ace mimicking Beatle. Tu bol raha hain? Tu jho usse jaate hue ghoor raha tha. Main usse "ghoor" nahi raha tha, facts check karne apne. Sirf dekha Maine usko. jaate hue. Beatle stands up. Hum kuch toh kar sakte the. Ace stands up with him. Kya kar sakte the chup kar. Hum waha akele khade the kya? Nahi right, waha aur bhi log the. Unnhone kuch kiya? Nahi,,, kidnap hone diya usko toh tu kyu itna ''the good samaritan" bann raha hain? Beatle holds his breath, holding back the swearing. He walks out into another room. Flipping on the main switch as he goes.

In the other room, Beatle grapples with his reality. The ceiling is his reality. The scene outside the window is his reality. He knows he can walk out of this room whenever he wishes, he can eat what he wants, and watch whatever his mind demands, this is his reality. The reality of the girl who was taken into that car is not the same as his. What ceiling does she look at? Has she eaten? Is anybody even looking for her? Wait. He takes out his phone and googles the keywords: Mumbai, girl kidnapping. Old news articles from years before his time prop up, and there are a few videos on YouTube he watches, but they are not her. He turns on the news on the TV in the room. They report bullshit. He's done with it, he takes out his phone.

In the other room, whut. This isn't the room. It's the washroom. Ace is taking a dump. He's scrolling his feed and a notification pops up, Beatle has posted after a long time. He watches, he reads, Beatle had given a recounting of the entire incident from his perspective.

The obnoxious colour of the van, the locality, the girl; oh, the girl. Ace is hit with the flashback of her beautiful red dress, and the way she walked in front of them, passing them like they were the dead autumn leaves loitering in her path. He wished she'd step on him. That's when the hole in the vision shoots through, she's taken in a white van. He wants to move but his feet are held down by his own cowardice. The flashback breaks.

Ace furiously storms Beatle into the room, Beatle bhenchod bola that tujhe jaane de kyu nahi samajhta kisiko pharak nahi padhta iss kidnapping se. Koi nahi dhund raha uss ladki ko. 

Ace, tu nahi samjhega. Mujhe kuch toh karna tha, yeh mera coping mechanism hain. Mujhe release chahiye is cheez se. Jab tak mujhe closure nahi milta tab tak yehi shuru rahega.

Release kuch nahi hota. Baba aadam ke zamane se bas dhongi guruji, self-appointed bhagwaan aur ullu ke patthe intellectual logo ne yeh closure ka concept banaya hain. Jitna log bolte hain, unka kam bolne mein reh jaata hain. 

Tu bhi unn ullu ke patthuo se kam hai? Bukowski ke chode. 

Story delete kar Instagram se. Tujhe facts bhi nahi pata exactly kya hua.

Nahi pata isliye jho dekha waise likh diya maine. Isme toh koi galti nahi.

Lekin chutiye experience aur facts alag cheez hoti, kabhi koi crime drama nahi dekhi. Evidence ikkata karne pe hi case bannta hain. Yaha tere pass bas ek jhalak jo tune dekhi ladki aur kidnappers ki uspe thodi na koi story bann sakti?

Maine ek ladki ko date kiya tha, usne kaha Bukowski ki shaiyari ke kaaran uske ex ne uske pyaar ko reject karliya.

Tu topic kyu badal raha hai?

Kyunki tu itna besharm hogaya hain ki tujhse dekha nahi jaara ki kisiki zindagi literally jaa sakti is scenario and tujhe mere reaction se gussa aa raha kyunki tu khud kuch nahi kar raha.

Fuck off, Beatle. Gaand marra tu bhosdike. 

Tu jaa apne samosa aloo chat kha aur movie dekh. Mujhe thoda peace of mind chahiye.

The two share a glance and at this moment, the conversation is over yet somehow far from it. Beatle recognizes the growing apathy in his friend, however, there is nothing that could shake him out of it except Ace himself. Ace doesn't react. Calm and confident. Calm and confident, he repeats in his mind. He's beat. Taking the entire couch, he lies down and begins a movie about kidnapping, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance by Park Chan-Wook.

Beatle turns detective. Can one glimpse be enough to solve a case? Is there a case? Did Ace have a point? Ace's questions make him doubt his resolve. He slaps himself awake.

There is a case because he saw it happen. The girl was kidnapped in Borivali, the closest stops where there's any unguarded space are I.C. Colony and the many open grounds closed factories in and around the area. Construction zones, he sees himself walking these spaces looking for her. There is no one there. 

The masks they wore were simple. A Santa mask and a Ghostface mask. Available anywhere during the Bandra fest. Probably in other places too. The car had no remarkable features. It was regular white. No stickers or any identifying marks or dents. The tools they carried whose chatter they heard as their car passed by, those weren't toys or gardening tools. Spades and shovels. Big, heavy, and metallic items. They'd dig into the ground in the dark and leave her in the ditch. The image of her dead clouded his mind. They took over everything.

The film ends, and Ace takes his time and then goes to see Beatle. Beatle's sitting by the window, only his silhouette idling in the dark room, it's early in the evening. The sun is right over them. He sits with him and hands him a bag of Lays. Beatle takes the bag and sniffs its contents, "Schezwan?" Ace has a sachet in his hand which he pours a good amount into the chips bag, "This stuff will give you cancer." "Atleast I'll die with my taste buds satisfied." 

They both sit quietly for a moment. When the oh-so-sweet reconciliation ends, Ace is sitting in Beatle's bed. Ace says "there are good kidnappings and there's bad. Good where the kidnapper gets their money and the girl is left to go back to her parents. Bad kidnappings are when the overreacts to the situation and gets herself killed."

Iska iss kidnapping se kya lena dena? 

Kaafi lena dena hain see she didn't really resist, ek swoop mein andar chali gayi. So somewhere apne dimaag mein usko pata tha ki aise situation mein zyada resist nahi karna chahiye varna bad kidnapping wala scenario play out hoga.

Beatle's eyes widen. A detail has struck him. He asks Ace to get on his feet, "Ace, if I'm pulling you, how would you place your feet?" as Beatle tugs on his sleeve. Ace pushes his hip out backward, and puts his weight down for gravity to help with his heel stuck solid to the ground, like an Olympic game of tug of war. "See. Your heel is stuck to the ground, even if I pull you all of a sudden you'll do this as a reflex." "What do you mean though?" "During the kidnapping, her heel was off the ground, but she didn't resist. Rather she hopped in."

Ace gives a flabbergasted look. "She was with them." "Fuck." 

They both fall back down to the bed as the information sinks in. Ace sits down on a remote. 

The TV turns on with the news anchor from the channel Beatle had been surfing, comes on. "Businessman Ashok Kamoji ki beti, Priya ka apharan aaj 11 AM Borivali ke IC Colony mein hua. Woh waha apne college ke dosto se milne gayi thi. Uska boyfriend Rahul bhi lapaata. Shaam saade saat baje Priya ki laash Borivali ke ek sunsaan ground par mili. Witnesses ka kehna hai unhone ek white car yaha se kuch ghanto pehle jaate hui dikhi. Shri Ashok Kamoji ne rishwat mein pure 50 lakhs rupay diye the lekin. Kehna hai Priya aur uske Boyfriend mein yeh rakam kam thi. Iske chakkar mein unka jhagda hua aur Rahul ne usse jaan se maar daala."

The end.