हम के ठहरे अजनबी इतने मदारातों के बाद, फिर बनेंगे आशना कितनी मुलाक़ातों के बाद
कब नज़र में आयेगी बेदाग़ सब्ज़े की बहार, ख़ून के धब्बे धुलेंगे कितनी बरसातों के बाद
We’ve remained strangers even after so many meetings,, When will we become familiar, after how many greetings?
When will the flawless spring grace our sight? When will the bloodstains wash away, after how many rains?
Dhaka se wapsi par, FAIZ AHMAD FAIZ
Yesterday in Gurgaon, meeting dozens of Bengali Muslim families was nothing short of heartbreaking. We spoke to more than 30 families—people who have lived here for years—yet what they endured feels like the darkest fears of our past coming alive today.
What we saw was not law and order—it was the cruel execution of the very law we fought against five years ago: the divisive and discriminatory CAA. These families, despite holding every valid proof of citizenship—AADHAR, PAN, Driving License, Voter ID, and even passports in some cases—were targeted, picked up, brutally beaten, and thrown into holding cells for days like criminals.
It was gut-wrenching to witness hundreds of families forced to flee from one part of their own country to another—women clutching their children, the elderly struggling to keep up, the sick dragged along—all living under a shadow of relentless fear. Is this the justice we promised as a nation?
This isn’t just harassment—it is humiliation, it is violence, it is an open mockery of justice in the world’s largest democracy. Such brazen communal targeting cannot and must not become the new normal in India. The Supreme Court must step in now, because every minute of silence is a stamp of approval on this injustice.
