The Nikon camera flickers on, briefly overexposed and shaking. The lens hunts for focus, then set...

The Nikon camera flickers on, briefly overexposed and shaking. The lens hunts for focus, then settles on the man in front of it. He’s young, early twenties, wearing an Indian Army uniform torn at the shoulder. His face is smeared with dirt and dried blood—none of it his—and there are no visible wounds. His eyes are bloodshot, deeply sunken. Bare concrete walls surround him, lit by the harsh buzz of a single fluorescent light overhead. When he speaks, it’s in Hindi, low and steady. “Date is March