Logline: In a near-future Delhi-2—a hyper-capitalist, hologram-lit extension of the old city—an aging auto-rickshaw driver named Bauji is given a "relocation order" to make way for a glass-domed tech park. To save his home, he must find a mythical forgotten map hidden in the city's underground archives, aided only by a cynical street-smart girl and a corrupt politician who suddenly grows a conscience.
Choti rolls her eyes but then finds a forgotten hard drive labeled "Project Imli" (Tamarind). It contains not a map, but a video file: a 2024 recording of a social activist. The activist explains that the secret to saving any Delhi isn't underground—it's above ground. It's the people's memory . Every street, every chai stall, every auto stand is a "living node" of legal ownership through "adverse possession" (occupying land for decades without challenge).
Bauji’s first ally is (a corrupt, overweight local politician who has sold out his own community thrice over). Tijori is having a crisis: his AI health monitor just predicted he will die of loneliness in 11 days because no one, not even his paid friends, will attend his funeral. Desperate for a legacy, he agrees to help Bauji, provided he gets a "photo op" finding the map. delhi 2 movie
But Bauji remembers a legend: when Old Delhi was first built, a group of rebellious masons hid a "map of resistance"—a blueprint of secret tunnels, wells, and legal loopholes—beneath the city’s first well. That well now lies under the Delhi-2 underground archive, a forgotten concrete bunker guarded by a lazy robotic dog.
The villain, a suave billionaire named Seth-ji, sends goons, then a drone strike. But Bauji's auto, Shaktimaan, acts as a Faraday cage (its rusted chassis, ironically, blocks all signals). In a final chase through the narrow gullies of Delhi-2, Bauji outmaneuvers the tech park's autonomous bulldozers by driving into a nallah (open drain) that no GPS map recognizes. It contains not a map, but a video
Bauji smiles, pats his auto. "Beta, Delhi is not a city. It's a conversation. And this auto? It’s the grammar."
Bauji (70), whose real name is Paramjeet Singh, has driven his green-and-yellow auto-rickshaw, "Shaktimaan," for 45 years. The auto is a relic—no GPS, no electric hum, just a roaring, smoke-belching engine that he tunes with a wrench and a prayer. His neighborhood, "Purani Dilli-2," is a labyrinth of unauthorized colonies slated for "beautification." Every street, every chai stall, every auto stand
The trio breaks into the archive. The robotic dog is easily tricked with a stale jalebi. Inside, among millions of digitized and decaying paper records, Choti’s coding skills meet Bauji’s old-world instincts. He doesn't look for a map; he looks for a smell —the scent of mustard oil and old ink, he says.