When Asking Questions Becomes a Crime

"The true test of a democracy is not how it treats those who agree with it, but how it treats those who dare to question it."

Today, I watched a deeply disturbing film about Jaswant Singh Khalra. It was not merely another movie based on history; it was a painful reminder that some of the darkest chapters of our nation are not fictional narratives they are lived realities.

As I watched, I found myself asking a question I never imagined I would: What does it truly mean to live in a democracy if asking questions can cost someone their life?

I was born in India. I have proudly stood for the national anthem, celebrated our Constitution, and admired the ideals on which this nation was founded. Like every law student, I have spent countless hours studying the Constitution and the fundamental rights it guarantees to every citizen. We are taught that Article 19 safeguards our freedom of speech and expression. We are told that dissent is the heartbeat of democracy.

Yet, stories like Khalra's force me to confront an uncomfortable contradiction.

How can we proudly call ourselves the world's largest democracy when history contains instances where individuals who questioned those in power allegedly faced intimidation, unlawful detention, or even disappearance? If the right to question authority exists only in textbooks but not in practice, what becomes of the Constitution we so passionately defend?

Following the events of Operation Blue Star, the assassination of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, and the 1984 anti-Sikh riots, Punjab witnessed a period marked by violence, fear, and extraordinary police powers. Amid this atmosphere, Jaswant Singh Khalra began investigating the disappearance of numerous Sikh youth.

His search led him to municipal records in Amritsar, where he reportedly uncovered records of thousands of unidentified or "unclaimed" bodies that had been cremated by the police. According to his findings, many of these bodies were not anonymous at all. They had names, addresses, and families waiting for them, unaware that their loved ones had already been killed.

Whether one examines these events through the lens of criminal law, constitutional law, or human rights, one truth remains undeniable: every life deserves dignity, and every disappearance deserves an answer.

As a law student, I cannot help but wonder: What is the value of studying constitutional protections if there are moments in history where those very protections appear to have failed the people they were meant to protect?

The Constitution is often described as a living document. But a Constitution lives only when its principles are upheld not merely when they are written.

We remember the Jallianwala Bagh Massacre because it symbolized colonial brutality. It reminds us of the dangers of unchecked state power. Yet history also demands that we confront uncomfortable questions about actions carried out after independence. Patriotism should never require selective memory. Loving one's country also means having the courage to acknowledge its failures and demand accountability.

Questioning the government should never be mistaken for being against the nation.

In fact, asking difficult questions is one of the highest forms of democratic participation. Governments change. Political parties come and go. But constitutional values must remain constant.

Jaswant Singh Khalra did not pick up a weapon. He picked up records. He asked questions. He sought answers for families who had been left in darkness.

And for that, he paid the ultimate price.

His story leaves me with questions that are difficult to answer.

How many more voices have been lost because they challenged those in power?

How many truths remain buried in forgotten files?

And most importantly, how long will we continue to celebrate democracy without protecting the very freedoms that define it?

As someone preparing to enter the legal profession, these questions do not weaken my faith in the law they strengthen my resolve. The purpose of law is not to glorify the State; it is to ensure that power is exercised within constitutional limits.

Perhaps becoming a good lawyer is not about believing that justice always prevails.

Perhaps it is about refusing to stop asking questions, even when the answers are uncomfortable.

Because if questioning authority becomes a crime, then democracy becomes nothing more than a word printed on paper.

And a Constitution that exists only in books can never truly protect the people it was written for.