The Nirmal Apartments stood as a testament to the middle-class struggle—sturdy, clean, but showing the marks of time. Inside, Shardhha Verma sat on the modest sofa, the cool glass of water in her hand feeling like a luxury after the sweltering commute.

Shardhha is the picture of grace under pressure. Her simple cotton saree is creased from the crowded Mumbai locals and the bumpy rickshaw ride. A few strands of hair have escaped her bun, framing a face that spent the day educating the future. She takes a slow sip of water, her eyes closed for a brief second of peace.