Prologue – The Quiet Village (Andhra, 1990)
The fields of Andhra shimmered under the golden sun.
Stan, a broad-shouldered man with rough palms and a calm smile, worked his farm with quiet pride. His wife, Latha, brought him lunch wrapped in banana leaves. Their sons — Shane and Sean — played by the well, laughing, throwing stones into the water.
Stan wasn’t rich, but he was peaceful.
That peace ended the day Reddy, the village head, came to their house. He was a man of greed and arrogance — the kind who believed money bought everything, even respect.
That afternoon, Reddy’s lust-filled eyes followed Latha as she fetched water.
Days later, when Stan returned from the fields, he found silence in his home. His sons were crying outside. Latha lay dead inside — her body cold, her saree torn.
Stan dropped to his knees. He screamed.
His friend Raj, a flashy young man from the same village, was the first to arrive. Raj looked horrified.
“Stan… we can’t go to the police. He’s the head of this village,” Raj warned.
Stan’s eyes turned red.
“He took my peace. I’ll take his life.”
That night, Stan and Raj stormed into Reddy’s house. The oil lamp flickered as Stan beat him mercilessly. Raj watched as blood pooled on the floor.
Stan took Reddy’s briefcase — full of cash and gold — and set the house ablaze.
“From this moment,” Stan said, his voice trembling with rage, “I’ll never be a farmer again.”
With his sons and Raj by his side, Stan left the village forever.
