On Monday, the air inside Government Medical College and Hospital (GMCH) felt heavy, not just with the smell of disinfectant, but with waiting and grief that hung over the courtyard outside the mortuary. Families of those killed in Sunday’s blast, which tore through the packing unit of an explosives factory near Nagpur, a section staffed almost entirely by women, sat huddled on the ground. Some leaned against compound walls; others stared ahead in silence. Many had spent the night there, too anxious to eat, too numb to sleep. Nineteen workers died. Sixteen of them were women — the youngest 28, the oldest 55. On Monday evening, after DNA reports were verified — the bodies too charred and dismembered to be identified otherwise — officials began handing them over. One by one, names were called out. Families stepped forward — not just to receive the remains of their mothers, daughters and wives, but to confront a future that had suddenly shifted. For many villages in the area, the factory was more than a workplace. It was …