Ratniben Gopalbhai Bhabhor navigates her way with practised precision around a steel trunk, a set of grinding stones, and a pooja place. Things, both valuable and junk, are strewn everywhere. Keys dangle from her neck, catching the light coming in between the wall and the roof.  It’s dark inside even though the sun is up. Ratniben points at the photo of her late husband, placed on a mud platform, raised a few inches above the floor. Grabbing a cloth bag, she takes out a badge and