The courtyard gleamed yellow under the bright afternoon sun. Women in vibrant saris swirled around Ayushi, laughing loudly, drumming their dholaks with rhythmic joy. The air was thick with the scent of turmeric and freshly ground mustard seed.

Sunlight pooled on the packed-earth floor like liquid gold, and even the dust seemed baptized by color. Turmeric dust hung faintly in the air, catching the light in tiny motes that trembled when someone moved. Every hand smelled of haldi—earthy, warm, slightly bitter—mixed with the soft, oily scent of mustard seeds recently crushed.