The pulsating heart of Delhi beats on, oblivious to the private dance of desire unfolding within its walls. A young Punjabi man, in the solitude of his room, gives in to his carnal cravings. His hands, calloused from years of working with his hands, trace the familiar path up his thighs, under his kurta, to the aching hardness between his legs. He wraps his hand around it, feeling the velvety smoothness, the heat, the pulse of life. His strokes become more insistent, his breath coming in ragged gasps, as he chases the release he so desperately craves. The city outside continues its symphony, unaware of the intimate rhythm being played within.