India's Children She was raped, and when she threatened to tell, the perp burnt her alive. She was a child, a class-V student, looked a lot like that niece of yours. She was raped, repeatedly, by seven people. She was held captive, and finally killed. She was only eight years into this world, looked a lot like that child you met at the park the other day. She came distraught, telling the world she was raped. She lost her father thereafter, as he was beaten and then taken into police custody only to never return. She is sixteen, a child, just like that cousin of yours preparing for her boards. I refuse to identify these children with their community and region today. They are just children. Our children. I refuse to attribute any identity to those perpetrators, for they are mere excuses for humans, only rotten souls. And we support them – for they may share our regional, political or religion identity. Time to seek justice for our children, not be with those who thrive on hatred.