Some moments strip a nation down to its barest truths. When the sky weeps without end, and the brown, churning water erases the lines between river and land, our familiar world vanishes. For so many in Punjab, that terrifying moment is now.

And in the space between the roar of the flood and the cries of the stranded, comes the familiar, steady rhythm of salvation: the beat of a helicopter’s blades.

This isn’t about politics or strategy. This is about people. This is about a family huddled on their roof, watching everything they own get swallowed by the deluge, thinking this is the end. And then, a silhouette appears in the sky. Soldiers in uniform, their........

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