It is worth setting against the losses what is still here, because a record of a place that only lists what is gone is not accurate either.
The language, spoken by around 150 million people across two countries and a global diaspora, with a living popular music industry and a thousand-year literary tradition.
The langar, five hundred years old, feeding anyone who arrives, on three continents, every day, free.
The Guru Granth Sahib Ji, fixed at 1,430 pages, identical everywhere, containing the compositions of Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs of every caste.
The mela circuit, the melas at Jagraon and Chhapar and Muktsar and Kila Raipur, still drawing lakhs to shrines of saints whose communities left in 1947.
The village institutions that remain: the gurdwara, the panchayat, the shop, the tree, the ground.
The capacity to organise, demonstrated at the Delhi borders for a year, which is the same capacity that ran the morchas in the 1920s and the Dal Khalsa before that.
And the people, who are still here, and who know most of what is on this site better than this site does.
The buildings that survive are the ones somebody used: gurdwaras, forts taken by the army or the police, serais with schools in them, palaces turned into colleges.
The buildings that went are the ones nobody needed: the bungas, the havelis, the samadhs, the mosques without congregations, and almost every unprotected mud structure.
That is the rule and it holds across the whole region. Use is what conserves, and heritage listing without use has preserved very little in Punjab.