In 1954, in the small town of Silvassa, wind blows through desolate streets. Doors are bolted for the first time, windows shuttered. The town is silent, except for the soft, persistent patter of August rain. The only movement is that of a group of outsiders, gathering stealthily around the barricaded Silvassa police post, their faces grim. A man raises his hand to signal the others—it is time.