In a bedroom of a very plush apartment in Mumbai, a middle-aged corporate honcho is brutally stabbed to death soon after a wild love making act during the day. The man had apparently engaged the lady when his wife was away to Kolkata on a business trip.
The police is sent into a tizzy because the killer paints a 'swastik' on the forehead of the victim with his own blood which indicates that it is the act of a serial killer who leaves identical signs in several similar executions in Delhi and a few other towns. Soon more such killings are discovered in Mumbai too.
As the hot chase ensues, what emerges is not the simple case of a one-dimensional psychopath killing on whims, but of a very complex split personality of a psychotically bewildered being.
At times tantalizingly sensuous with insatiable sexuality, fiercely protective with maternal possessiveness; brutally unsparing with the fury of an avenger as well gratifyingly warm and caring with the sincerity of a true lover.
The sad revelation in finality is not that of an abhorrent monster, but of a vulnerable and beautiful human being who uses her inescapable sexuality merely as a weapon for social rectitude.