In rural India, dawn is not simply heralded by the crowing of the rooster; the real first light appears at the mandi. Dust clouds swirl around the concrete slab as slow-moving vehicles, loaded with Punjab's wheat, Chhattisgarh's paddy and Maharashtra's onions, enter the courtyard. Shoulders hunched together, the farmers wait in a mixture of anxiety and wariness. Stacks of grain literally spill over into the courtyard; quality points are marked on the dusty floor by an agent, while the informal auction moves to the edge of the agent's humble shop. Prices are half-whispered in the warm air, counts are imprecisely taken, and finally, the farmer leaves for home with a much post-dated cheque/NEFT with erratic internet and servers down, struggling to remember whether today's "deal" has made or lost him money.