The fractious sounds of glass bottles smattering against hard concrete continue to haunt Saathya Kumar as he revisits memories of the riot.
The 28-year-old Komala Vilas cook was busy tending orders for a family of six on a moderately busy Sunday night.
Standing just beyond the intersection of Kerbau and Race Course Road, he was witnessing a crowd that was multiplying by the minute.
It was a quarter past 9pm when things took a turn for the worst.
“People were shouting and screaming that someone had died,” he recounts. “By now, the crowd was large and more rowdy."
Deep, intense bellows of anger-fueled chants and ashen debris form the backdrop of his recollections.
Alarmed by the ensuing ruckus outside, his manager instinctively pulled down the restaurant shutters.
This panned out well – much to the relief of frantic diners whom by now, had made a beeline for the backdoor exit.
Returning to work at 10am the next morning, Saathya was left shell shocked at the scene that awaited him and his awestruck colleagues:
An inexplicably clean stretch of road that hinted nothing – nothing of the rambunctious act of civil disobedience that unravelled less than eight hours ago.
“It was as if the riot never took place.”