Has Justice Lost Its Voice for Hindu Victims?

In the heart of Uttar Pradesh’s Lalitpur, a story of deceit and exploitation has emerged that is both painful and deeply alarming. A young Hindu woman, renamed Alisha after being coerced into religious conversion, was trapped not once but twice — first by a man named Shahrukh Ali and later by his relative, Ajhar Ali. What began as a tale of love turned into a saga of betrayal, manipulation, and cruelty.

After being pressured into nikah and forced to adopt Islamic practices, the woman’s life spiraled into a nightmare. Ajhar, under the pretext of familial familiarity, began visiting her home and secretly recorded private videos — later using them to blackmail and sexually exploit her. When she resisted, those videos were sent to her husband, leading to her divorce.

Yet, the ordeal did not end there. Ajhar, once released from jail, lured her again with promises of legitimacy and care for her unborn child, even drafting a marriage agreement. But within months, he and his family demanded ₹2 lakh, abandoning her and the infant when she could not comply. Today, the woman roams from one police office to another, an 11-month-old baby in her arms, searching for justice in a system that often looks away when the victim is Hindu.

This isn’t an isolated case. Lalitpur, according to local Hindu organizations, has witnessed a series of such incidents where women are allegedly trapped, converted, and discarded. Hindu Jagran Parishad’s district convenor Brijendra Singh Gaur has rightly questioned — how many such cases must unfold before authorities acknowledge the organized nature of this exploitation? These are not acts of “personal choice”; they reflect a deeper, systemic targeting of vulnerable women to advance religious radicalism.

The most disturbing aspect remains the institutional silence. Despite a registered FIR and clear evidence of blackmail and coercion, there is little assurance that the accused will face swift or meaningful punishment. The state machinery, often swift in addressing politically sensitive crimes, appears hesitant when the victims are Hindu and the accused belong to a minority group.

Such selective justice weakens the very foundation of equality before the law. The so-called guardians of secularism, who erupt in outrage over alleged crimes elsewhere, remain silent here. Is the pain of a Hindu woman any less worthy of empathy? Does her trauma not deserve the same media attention, the same judicial urgency?

This case is not just about one woman in Lalitpur. It represents a grim social reality — where religious deception, sexual exploitation, and financial blackmail intertwine to destroy lives while society debates semantics. The question is not whether “Love Jihad” exists; the question is how long the nation will keep denying patterns that are tearing its social fabric apart.

Justice must not be selective. The Lalitpur victim’s plea is not merely for punishment — it is for recognition, for acknowledgement that what happened to her is not love gone wrong but faith weaponized for exploitation. Until India confronts this truth with courage, more daughters will fall prey to this silent war waged under the guise of affection.

Until society confronts these truths openly, more daughters will suffer quietly, and their cries will remain unheard. Justice must not discriminate. This woman’s fight is not just for herself, but for every vulnerable girl who deserves safety, dignity, and protection.

Author’s Note:
Harshita Rai writes on law, policy, and society. Her columns focus on the intersection of justice, governance, and public morality.