She Burned Before the Sun Could Rise
— In memory of the girl from Hathras
_Afzal Ahamed Malik
She walked through fields with dreams in her eyes,
Not knowing she'd return beneath blood-red skies.
A girl of dust, of silence, and hope,
But fate had tied her with a brutal rope.
They broke her spine, they broke her voice,
In a land where monsters walk with choice.
She couldn’t scream, but her soul cried loud,
While justice slept beneath the shroud.
Her mother begged, her father fell,
But power stood behind a shell.
The law looked down, the police turned blind,
And truth was gagged, justice confined.
At night they came, with fire and force,
Not to honor her, but change the course.
No last goodbye, no family near,
Just flames that whispered, “Stay in fear.”
They burned her body before the dawn,
As if her pain should not live on.
As if her death could be erased,
By fire, by silence, by power disgraced.
But ashes don’t forget the name,
Of a girl who died with none to blame.
And from those ashes rises a cry:
“Will I matter only when I die?”
وہ سورج نکلنے سے پہلے جلا دی گئی
— ہاتھرس کی بیٹی کی یاد میں
“They burned her body before sunrise, thinking they could bury the truth with her ashes.
But truth doesn’t burn — it rises from the flames, asking,
Will I matter only when I die?”