On the morning of November 4, 2013, a puttering auto-rickshaw dropped me off at the Liberation Panthers's headquarters nestled in a former elementary school building in Velachery, south Chennai. On my arrival, a handful of party cadre accustomed to my presence welcomed me with a cup of hot tea. We retrieved several chairs from a former classroom and spoke informally as I waited to interview Thirumavalavan, whom they called talaivar (the leader). As the hours passed, a crowd of visitors swelled around us on the shaded, open-air veranda, each awaiting their turn for a meeting with the party president. At the time, Thirumavalavan was the acting MP from Chidambaram, yet Dalits traveled from across the state to see him because he was widely regarded as a surrogate representative for all Dalits. Some visitors came to appeal for his intervention in personal matters. Others came to request a signed document on his parliamentary letterhead that directed a government bureaucrat to remedy a grievance. While most visitors arrived with specific requests, a handful came bearing ornate marriage invitations, hopeful to confirm his attendance and schedule the ceremony accordingly. No appointment was necessary, only patience.

After attending to a flurry of requests, Thirumavalavan emerged from his office and gestured for me to accompany his entourage as they set off for their afternoon meetings. Taking his cue, I squeezed into an overflowing SUV. Thirumavalavan sat in the front passenger seat while his secretaries positioned themselves at my sides and additional cadre piled into the back. Seemingly without pause, his assistants vetted incoming calls throughout the trip, carefully noting the caller's name and nature of inquiry before deciding whether to pass the phone to their talaivar.