All of us experience the cycle of nature: people who are born have to die, and all of us have lost someone near and dear. Every death is always painful, unfortunately. Sometimes, there are people known to us, as well as unknown individuals, who suffer tragic losses. For instance, their loved ones might die in accidents or be killed for nefarious reasons. These deaths are incredibly tragic. This is followed by a lengthy process of arrests and trials before the final verdict is given, which, of course, is unexpected and not something anyone invites. However, it happens; the law takes its own course. Here, there's an entire community that has been wronged, whose relatives have been brutally killed, and they don't even know who killed them. They remain unaware of the murderer's name. And it doesn't end there; there has been no fair investigation or justice. They've been out of their homes for the last 33 years, scattered all over the globe. Some are in Australia, some are in New Zealand—people who have managed to succeed in life. They left India and are in very good positions. Some of the biggest names in the world belong to the Kashmiri Pandit community. However, there are still people living in Jammu Camps. Now, imagine coming from a family, wherever it may be. Whether it's not in Bombay, wherever you are, your parents, siblings, or if you're married, your husband and children—all of you live in a home. There's a bank where you keep your money. You have your grocer, your vegetable vendor, your ironing person. You're familiar with all these people. And then, one fine day, someone comes to you and says you have to leave, or else you'll all be killed. They specifically mention someone from your family, like your father or your brother, and say that if you don't leave in the next 48 hours, you will find his body in your own house. What do you do in that case? You pack your bags and you leave, as if going for a short trip to another city, packing a suitcase. So many memories are left behind. The kitchens, the photos, the jewelry—all abandoned. Balances were left behind because of the curfew in the state. No banks were operational; everything they ever owned remained. And then, everything crumbles in an instant, like a house of cards collapsing. You find yourself moving from a beautiful, self-contained flat where you were doing well and had a promising future. Suddenly, you're living in a camp with 25 people, with no privacy—especially difficult for women when they have their periods or need to use the bathroom or take a bath without proper facilities. How do you cope with this? It's a deeply horrific story, not just about those whose relatives were killed, but also about others who are still living in camps. Look at the camps in Jammu now. In recent years, the government has at least provided concrete structures, three-story buildings, and such. However, they're still living in tiny apartments, nothing like what they had in Kashmir. They had orchards, a life there, and so many possessions—and all of it has been reduced to nothing. So, how does one handle this profound loss?