A rooster in a small apartment in suburban Mumbai turns a middle-class Indian household upside down. Alternately amused and irritated, various members of the family give their account of the bizarre situation. Who would have a rooster as a house pet, after all? In fast-cut scenes we see the rooster in action, disturbing everyone as they try to focus on their work, pooping on the pristine floor, and crowing enthusiastically all the while. We can identify with the nuisance it’s causing, and Tungrus soon develops into a refreshing, full-blown tragicomedy. The animal is undermining the dignity of this decent, middle-class family. What will the neighbors think?
The only person who can see the funny side is the man of the house, who was born in the countryside. Just for amusement he bought a chick for the cats to play with, but as sometimes happens in the struggle for survival, the tables have turned: now it’s the rooster who’s terrorizing the cats. Ultimately, everyone in this unorthodox and lighthearted family portrait is compelled to ask themselves the inevitable moral question: am I going to eat the rooster?