Shiva has debts to clear and so does Gayatri. They both end up in Hyderabad working in an illegal liquor syndicate run by Bapineedu and his angry mistress (Chitti Talli).
Chitti Talli beats up Gayatri for talking to boys on one occasion and this drives Gayatri to choose a boy she can fall in love with, just to rebel against the system. And in a badly improvised cliché of a scene she chooses the gentle Shiva and intimidates him into loving her, eventually.
Shiva snitches on one of his buddies (Nagendra) about a bag of money the latter is hiding and it leads to Nagendra’s murder by the angry boss. In a parallel plot Shiva and Gayatri make love on the building’s sunshade when their late night movie plan gets obstructed half way through (Ya, the sunshade).
Gayatri’s pregnant, Chitti Talli learns of the situation, Shiva’s planning to steal some money for Nagendra’s family and it all comes down to Shiva and Gayatri fleeing the place with a whole lot of the syndicate’s money they steal on the way.
Is a common thing amongst our writer directors. They get stuck in a pattern which initially brought them some good box office success, but, ends up seizing their head and eventually becomes the reason for their downfall; Teja being a classic example.
What was an original when they were first seen become clichés of an unbearable sort. The hydraulics, the weak and ever pitiful leads singing ballads of love once they are lost in the woods, the over emphasized and violent for no reason antagonists and the other set of banalities we are familiar with in Teja’s love stories.
The leads were a sham (not that anyone can shine with such character sketches) and most of the performances will be remembered for their ability to overdo (which can be attributed to the writer director’s stuck writing than the 40 plus new faces the film introduced).
The film’s most enjoyable moment is when you realize it’s over.