On the day we arrive in Sukhasan, pomp obscures reality. In front of a white-stone town hall, plastic chairs absorb the heat. They’re not stacked or haphazard - rather they have been carefully arranged into a downward crescent moon, awaiting the backbones of officialdom. Government staff sink back, mastering the seats with their bodies. The fleshy semicircle thrums as the men grin and chat and extend their hands in greeting. One of them is Manoj Kumar – a Dowry Prohibition Officer.