Over the next three hours, the stillness of the darkness outside is broken only by the squeak of the shoes and Gopi’s deep voice shouting instructions. “Higher, higher, higher!” he would say to Sindhu, to get the bend of her knee just perfect while leaping to execute the smash shot. Or he’d test her reflexes by throwing shuttle after shuttle, as though firing from a machine gun into different corners of the court, challenging her to move her body, her ankle, her knees, her shoulder very swiftly. Watching Gopi with Sindu was like watching a military sergeant at work, focused on getting his sepoy battle-ready.