It does not matter that their names were Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and Sukhdev. It matters that in a place and time where human rights did not matter, ordinary people with everything to lose believed in an idea of India enough to sacrifice everything and more. With their heads held high. My grandfathers were the same. But do I, safe in my creature comforts and the promise of predictable future believe in my idea of India enough to do the same? There is so much to do. When will I be able to truly look into the mirror and smile? When will my time come?