When the news of Union education minister Dharmendra Pradhan’s resignation came, I felt a surge of thoughts and a crushing need to pen them down. Pradhan’s resignation and the acceptance of the other demands of the Cockroach Janta Party, to me, are a reminder of democracy and the beginning of something larger. While celebration is necessary, so is making sure the essence of this movement is not lost. This protest highlighted the systematic flaws that persist and will keep acting as potholes in the advancement of young India. The momentum should continue and accountability should run deeper. When political issues knocked at the door of GenZ, the seemingly uninterested ‘cockroaches’ metamorphosed into revolutionaries and change makers. The ‘Facebook generation’ had helped bring Prime Minister Narendra Modi to power while the ‘Instagram generation’ questioned and shook the system.On July 20, I felt the sharp sting of the tear gas for the first time. I couldn’t help but smile. I asked myself if I had ever felt this alive. Feeling alive is to think critically. In a sense, revolution is proof of being alive. Revolution or inquilab is the building block of a country, it is the one constant which has survived all kinds of regimes and people in power, it is in our virasat. A lot of people asked me why thousands of people showed up that day? To that, I had no answer. Perhaps it was the platform, or the accumulation of many little sparks over the last decade that had now taken the form of a wild fire. The roads of Central Delhi were full of people drenched in the rain. The police buses kept coming, as did the relentless protestors. This was my first protest and it was a grand one. This experience did not change me, it reinvented me. I have always been an empathetic person who liked to question and introspect. I grew up reading about socio-political ideas, developing some understanding of how systems work. But going to the protest, seeing, hearing, smelling and feeling it all, gave me a clarity I hadn’t expected. The pages I had read took the shape of laathis, people and the courage that surrounded us. I live in Delhi so I could run, hide or leave whenever I wanted to. But many had left their home in different states to be here. They were walking with broken chappals with more courage than I did. This protest meant different things for different groups. I was there because I live for democratic principles and justice, they were there as a means of survival, out of necessity. Revolutions and protests are not sheer hobbies or a passion project, they are a necessity for the vulnerable. The brotherhood, the camaraderie, the emphasis on ‘WE the people of India’ – it was the first time that I had seen this level of unity. People seemed more convinced of this common cause than any hateful propaganda. It felt as if everything was possible, even when the police charged at us with all their might.These forces brought about change, accountability and a new way forward. It also brought about an angry and restless revolution in me, making this protest not just my first but an immortal force which will question and guide me. Irene Khanum Sherwani is an undergraduate student majoring in psychology and political science.