By Himesh Tyagi
In Kolkata’s heart, a doctor fell,
A tale too heavy, too dark to tell.
Once gentle hands, filled with grace,
Now lost in shadows, a hollowed space.
She healed the broken, soothed the pain,
A beacon of hope in the pouring rain.
But fate, relentless, cruel, and cold,
Unraveled her story, a truth untold.
As the city weeps, the ground does quake,
Each soul cries out; the heartache breaks,
Tainted by 150 milligrams of shame,
A life snuffed out, erased without name.
The streets now murmur with desperate pleas,
For justice, truth, and a chance to breathe.
Innocence shattered, trust cast aside,
In this darkness, where shadows abide.
Justice cries out, a haunting refrain,
For a spirit lost in the grip of pain.
A doctor’s light now flickers, then dims,
But her courage echoes, a hymn that swims.
In Kolkata’s alleys, her name shall endure,
A call for truth that we must secure.
For every healer, every soul laid bare,
We rise against violence, united in care.
In the face of grief, we will not retreat,
For her fight lives on in each heartbeat.
Let her legacy burn, a flame in the night,
A testament to hope, a symbol of light.