Tilottoma dreams a lot. Sometimes of a tumult of colours that almost suffocates her, sometimes of a long, deserted corridor of some ancient palatial house that seems to have no end. Tilottoma fears her dreams. Why?
Amartya is the last in line of a house of royals. The descendant of kings is now a psychiatrist in a city hospital, his kingdom has disappeared, and his palace has worn out. But who know...s, if his blood still boils with ancestral pride? His desire still finds satisfaction in the royal games of old? Does it really matter if the one to pay the price for it is his own wife?
Arya stands at the margin of this whirlwind of dream-reality-memory-modernity. A vagabond, a weirdo, an artist – his advent suddenly changes all equations, shakes up the very foundation of secrets that the royal palace had kept buried for all these years for good.
A web of secrets, deceits, games and lies … and three human beings caught up in a dangerous tangle of love, lust and passion.