The orange skies were furiously turning violet on a sultry evening. We were taking a tired stroll on the JNU roads after a long day of campaigning for the Students’ Union elections, when the phone call came. “Gauri Lankesh has been shot,” Umar Khalid told us softly. I froze. Soon, I ran to a washroom to calm myself as I was shaking. We pretended to continue with our work thereafter; no one spoke much that night.