Ah, Mirabai Chanu. My nephew in Bhubaneswar sent me a video of her lift — the way she settles her grip before the clean and jerk, like she’s tallying a final figure in a ledger that must balance. It reminded me of something: at the mill, when the harvest is good, the women who sort the sugar crystals have this same stillness before they judge a sack’s weight. My mother, she says Mirabai’s arms must be stronger than the monsoon. But I think of the girls in the school tournament last Sunday — one little one from the tribal colony, she lifted her opponent’s queen with that same fierce focus. Her father sells sugarcane by the road. I hope someone is watching her back, the way they watch Mirabai’s.