Bhagat Singh’s Powerful Letter: A Glimpse Into the Revolutionary’s Mind

Bhagat Singh’s letter to the Governor of Punjab in March 1931 is not just a plea. It is a political statement—sharp, fearless, and unrelenting. Instead of asking for mercy, as the British perhaps expected, Bhagat Singh demanded to be treated as a prisoner of war and executed by a firing squad rather than by hanging—an audacious move that transformed his status from a criminal to a martyr in the eyes of millions.

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What stands out in the letter is not defiance for the sake of drama, but clarity of purpose. He writes:

“And we claim to be treated as such, i.e., we claim to be shot dead instead of to be hanged. It rests with you to prove that you really meant what your court has said.

We request and hope that you will very kindly order the military department to send its detachment to perform our execution.”

There is no anger in his tone, only determination. No hatred, only ideology. No request for pardon, only a reaffirmation of his beliefs. This letter was Bhagat Singh’s way of showing the world that he was dying, not as a fanatic, but as a conscious revolutionary.

In Why I Am an Atheist, Bhagat Singh recalls May 1927, when he was suddenly surrounded and arrested by police in Lahore. Accused of links to the Kakori conspiracy and the Dussehra bombing, he was offered freedom—and even rewards—in exchange for betraying his comrades and the revolutionary cause.

They told him to pray to God, to pretend faith in order to seek mercy. But for Singh, this was no option. His atheism wasn’t a fashionable pose; it was a conviction tested in the hardest of times.

As he wrote, ‘It was time of trial and I would come out of it successful… No, I never did it.’ He would not bow—not to British authority, not to public opinion, and not to religious belief for comfort.

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Bhagat Singh’s words cut deeper because they strip away illusions. He knew there would be no reward in this life, and he did not expect another life to compensate him.

‘That will be the end when the rope is tightened round my neck,’ he wrote, with an almost chilling calm.

For others, faith could make sacrifice easier—a hope of paradise or rebirth as a king. For him, the cause itself was the only reward worth having.

And yet, his atheism was not cold or nihilistic. It was infused with a higher faith—not in God, but in humanity’s power to free itself from oppression. His dream was of a day when men and women would fight for justice, not to become kings, or to gain any reward here or in the next birth… but to cast off the yoke of slavery, to establish liberty and peace.’

Nearly a century later, Why I Am an Atheist remains a challenge—and an inspiration. It dares us to ask: Are our convictions strong enough to survive when the stakes are life and death? Would we stand firm without the promise of safety, wealth, or heavenly reward?

In a time when moral compromises are often justified for personal gain, Bhagat Singh’s refusal to barter truth for comfort feels almost radical. His essay is a call to strip away vanity, stand firm in the storm, and let our principles—not our fears—guide our actions.

As India celebrates Independence Day, we remember the tricolour flying high and the sacrifices that made it possible. But to honour Bhagat Singh is to do more than recall his martyrdom—it is to carry forward his spirit of fearless conviction.

He was not content with mere political freedom; he dreamed of a society where oppression, inequality, and exploitation were banished. His letter from prison is not frozen in history—it is alive, speaking to each generation that faces injustice and must choose between silent survival and courageous resistance.

In a country where martyrdom often overshadows thought, Bhagat Singh’s writings remind us that the real revolutionaries are not those who merely die for a cause, but those who live for truth, fight with ideas, and leave behind questions that future generations must answer.

So when we remember Bhagat Singh, let us not reduce him to a slogan or a statue. Let us read him. Let us engage with his mind. Because somewhere in those prison letters and essays, he is still speaking—not just to the British Empire, but to us.

‘Merciless criticism and independent thinking are the two necessary traits of a revolutionary,’ Bhagat Singh wrote.