Vijay Reddy, who lay helplessly chained to the ground. His body was a mess of bruises, blood, and torn clothes. The wounds on his skin had dried into dark, crusted patches, and his eyes were swollen, yet burning with pain.

A few men brought in a sofa, placing it at a deliberate distance from him. They took their positions silently behind it, arms crossed like loyal hounds awaiting command. And then, Sanjay entered.