By 5:15 AM, Lakshmi’s husband, , has unrolled the The Hindu newspaper on the dining table. He sips filtered coffee from a stainless steel tumbler, marking crossword answers with a red pen.

No one scrolled Instagram. No one checked email.

“That,” said the grandmother, “is where we started. No running water. But one mango tree. And every evening, the whole village would sit under it.”

Then comes the sacred hour: a Hindi TV soap opera. It’s melodramatic, yes. But it’s also a family ritual. They discuss the plot, predict betrayals, laugh at the slow-motion entrances. For 30 minutes, phones are down. They are just a family.