Two days of starvation had turned Nisha into a desperate, leaking mess. Her massive lactating breasts constantly dripped milk, soaking her thin nighty. She sat curled in her dark room, stomach aching with hunger, when the door opened. Uncle entered carrying a tray: one thick bumpy cucumber, one long ripe banana, and a steaming hot boiled corn on the cob — freshly pressure-cooked, still burning hot.

Nisha’s eyes widened with hope. “Uncle… yeh sab mere liye hai kya? Please… bahut bhookh lagi hai.”