Kuto’s life was filled with terror. He was always on the run, constantly looking over his shoulder for the people who were after him. He had no home, no family, and no friends. He was alone in the world, and he knew that if he ever stopped moving, they would catch up to him and kill him.

So Kuto kept moving. He went from Bangladesh to India to Nepal to Pakistan. He never stayed in one place for more than a few days, always keeping one step ahead of his pursuers.

But eventually they caught up to him. One night as he was sleeping in a cheap hotel room in Islamabad, they burst into his room and dragged him out into the street. They beat him mercilessly before finally shooting him dead and leaving his body in a pool of blood on the pavement.