*The Ballad of Hakikat Rai – The Child Martyr of Faith * *I. The Birth of a Brave Soul* In Sialkot town, where rivers glide, A child was born, a village’s pride. Hakikat Rai, a name so bright, A heart of steel, a soul of light. In childhood games, his mind would soar, Through scriptures vast and ancient lore. With every verse, his faith grew strong, A melody deep, a sacred song. *II. The Schoolyard Storm* One fateful day, in youthful cheer, A jest was made, the air turned drear. He spoke of wisdom, pure and free, But anger rose—a storm at sea. “You mock our ways,” the voices cried, With fury fierce, their wrath untied. Before he knew, the chains were cast, A trial loomed, the die was passed. *III. The Journey to Lahore* From Sialkot’s streets to Lahore’s grand gate, Dragged in chains, he faced his fate. The Qazi sat with a hardened frown, "Renounce, young boy, lay your faith down." A hush fell deep, the hall stood still, Would he bend, or break his will? But fire burned within his chest, His Guru’s name, his soul’s behest. "I bow to none but my faith so pure, No threats nor swords can make me unsure. If death it be, then so it shall, My spirit soars, I shall not fall." *IV. The Verdict and Martyrdom* The sentence fell like a hammer’s might, Basant Panchami—his final night. No cries, no tears, no trembling fear, He stood in grace, his end was near. Upon the scaffold, high and bare, His young frame stood with a saintly stare. The sword was raised, the air grew tight, A martyr fell, yet rose in light. *V. The Aftermath and Legacy* The land wept loud, the skies turned gray, A child had died, but faith held sway. His village mourned, their fates unsure, For darker days, they must endure. But time has kept his tale alive, A beacon bright, his name survives. In kites that soar on Basant’s high air, His spirit dances, light and fair. So tell his tale, let echoes ring, Of courage bold and faith’s pure spring. For Hakikat Rai, though young in years, Stood tall in truth, beyond all fears.