Bulldozers, going about their merciless job as people watch their homes being razed to the ground.

They wait (till the bulldozers move to some other patch of land, to destroy another family's, entire life's work), and then, try to scrounge for anything worth salvaging from the rubble.

It was really a sad sight. Through it all there was hardly any media coverage.

For me the most heartbreaking sight was to see, with painful regularity, a family standing near their demolished home. Often, their eyes spoke not only of their helplessness to prevent the authorities of destroying their homes and future but these eyes also scoffed at our presence and intentions. Of course, most of them were too crushed by their own losses and were decent enough to tolerate our presence, but I, for sure, felt like an intruder.

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