A lot of people in Yamuna Pushta were justifiably angry folks. Many times they used to channel their anger at us. It was understandable. Nobody wants a bunch of strangers filming the darkest hour of their lives.

These two girls are really upset, as seconds before us, a troop of policemen passed them and one can only imagine the opinion and respect, most of the residents held for the police force; neck to neck with the respect and opinion they held for politicians.

I remember we were moving as fast as we could through the scattered bricks and broken houses, when I saw this boy sleeping on a makeshift bed. We halted the car and took these shots from the tinted windows of the car, as there were cops and DDA officials all around us. My driver went out and pretended to tinker with the car wheel, while we took these shots. It was after a few seconds that we realized that there were two boys sleeping and had taken refuge in this debris.

Homes destroyed, the present uncertain, the future bleak, but life goes on.

Bricks that were once the foundation and the essence of a home, lie strewn on the ground, and the same bricks are used to help cook a meal.

From the book "Yamuna Gently Weeps" by Ruzbeh N. Bharucha