The crucible is on fire, its sides flame-orange with heat. But Krishnan picks it up anyway with iron tongs and a steady hand, quickly moving aside the burning coals that cover it. He tips it over a rectangular mould with four vertical grooves, each the width of a pencil.Gold pours down like lava, hot and fiery and thick. One end is on fire and the other—four inches away—is already turning solid. A minute later, Krishnan picks up the now solid gold with the tongs and thrusts it, hissing