A girl is born. She now has a “temporary” home; she is expected to go to her “real” home.
Once she goes, that “real” home never feels like home. She wants to go back to her temporary home, but it was always temporary; she can’t stay.
So where is her home? Maybe her grave.
Isn’t this painful?
Or perhaps the pain has evolved into “honor,” meant to satisfy a society’s collective sadism—finding false honor in scapegoating.
This sort of an “honor” is well known in the subcontinent, the rest of the world has its own versions.
The girl—from birth to death, for no reason other than being a girl—remains an eternal refugee.