In a brisk Christmas Eve set in 1980s Bombay, a man named Albert Arogyasami returns home after seven years in prison for a murder he insists he didn’t repeat. The night begins with a chance encounter at a restaurant, where he notices a man fleeing from his date. Soon after, Albert meets the man’s companion, a woman named Maria, and learns that her daughter Annie is mute and possibly the reason for the man’s abrupt departure. A quiet, tentative bond forms between Albert and Maria as she invites him to join her for Christmas at her home, and he accepts, seeking warmth and connection in a city that feels both familiar and estranged.
At Maria’s house, the holiday mood deepens. Maria tucks Annie into bed and spends time with Albert, and the two share wine and conversation that hints at shared pain and possible forgiveness. Albert is drawn to a Christmas tree in the living room and, almost instinctively, attaches a cherished ornament he had bought earlier that day. The ornament becomes a small but potent symbol of the moment they are sharing. Maria, sensing a chance for lightness, suggests they wander the neighborhood’s Christmas festivities, and they drift through twinkling streets, letting the city’s colors and music pull them closer together. Before they step out, Maria leaves a note for her husband, telling him she’s out with a friend, a seemingly innocent act that now feels loaded with possible consequences.
The night takes a chilling turn when the couple returns to find a dead body seated in a chair: Jerome, Maria’s husband, shot through the heart, gun still in hand. The note is found crumpled near him, and Maria tries to call for help, but Albert urges restraint. He bluntly confesses that he had just been released from prison that very day, after serving a long sentence for the murder of his lover, Rosie. He warns that his presence could complicate the situation, because the police might suspect a conspiracy between him and Maria. Shock and fear wash over Maria, who pleads with him to leave. Albert acquiesces, but not before attempting to erase traces of his visit—fingerprints on glasses, footprints, and other small signs of his presence—aware that any misstep could entangle them both.
Albert does not go straight home. He stops at a nearby tea stall and discovers Maria again, as if drawn back into the web of the night’s events. Maria is rushing somewhere, and Albert follows her to a church where she feigns fainting to elicit help from a fellow churchgoer named Ronnie. The plan seems to hinge on intrigue and aid: Ronnie wants to help, and Albert, stubbornly curious, offers to assist as well. Together and in disguise, the two men escort Maria back to her house, only to find that Jerome’s corpse and the earlier evidence of the crime have vanished. The house looks almost untouched, the Christmas tree ornament missing from the tree, and a sense of déjà vu hangs over the room. Ronnie leaves his wallet behind as a pretext for a future return, while Maria claims she must retrieve something at the church, inviting the possibility of more deception.
As the night unfolds, a second visit to the crime scene repeats with uncanny precision: the dead body reappears as if nothing had happened, and the ornament is once again gone. Maria, shaken, asks Ronnie to call the police, but she also senses the strange, repeating nature of the events. Albert slips away and hides in a different part of the building as the police arrive to take statements. In a tense moment, Annie speaks again for the first time, announcing that Santa—clearly a stand-in for Albert—had brought her the Christmas ornament. Maria embraces Annie, while the police begin to suspect a carefully orchestrated plot rather than a single, isolated murder.
In a crucial twist, Albert steps forward with a new piece of evidence: Ronnie’s wallet, which he retrieves from his own pocket and places on the inspector’s desk, a deliberate gesture that signals guilt or complicity. The police release all three parties, but the emotional stakes have escalated. Annie’s regained voice and the revelation of the wallet move Maria to a new understanding of the night’s events, and she clings to the hope that truth may still emerge. As the trio leaves the station, Albert quietly wrestles with what he has become a part of and what he might still undo.
The closing moments pivot on a delicate balance of motive, memory, and unresolved longing. Albert presents the wallet to the police and then produces a ring from his pocket—an object connected to a past relationship with Rosie, his supposed motive for the earlier murder. He seems to be offering a gesture that could redirect suspicion away from Maria and toward himself. Yet in a final reversal, Maria reaches out her hand, inviting Albert to place the ring on her finger. The scene lingers on this fragile convergence of guilt, devotion, and possibility, with Maria accepting an unexpected future that may be built on shared secrets. As Albert sits on the suspects’ bench, the film closes on a moment that leaves questions hanging in the air, inviting the viewer to consider how past crimes, proof, and care for another can shape the choices made in the face of danger.
