Dear Brave Students,I write to you not merely in solidarity, but with gratitude. Every generation inherits the unfinished work of democracy. Yours has accepted both the burden and the privilege of carrying it forward.Albert Camus’s Caligula tells the story of an emperor who comes to believe that because he possesses absolute power, he is answerable to no moral limits. Convinced that power alone can define justice, he imprisons himself within his own tyranny. He systematically dismantles every restraint on governance, believing that authority itself entitles him to do so. As I and Sandhya, my wife watched the deeply disturbing events unfold in Delhi, we were reminded of that enduring truth.History has taught this lesson repeatedly. From Tsarist Russia to the student revolt of Paris in 1968, from the youth-led struggle against apartheid in South Africa, Tiananmen Square, to the Navnirman Andolan of 1974 in Gujarat attempts to suppress young voices have never extinguished the desire for freedom. Authority may command obedience for a while; it cannot indefinitely command the conscience of a generation.The images of the brutality inflicted upon you have filled us with anguish and anger. A society learns to question itself in its universities. To question those who hold power over your future is not a privilege you seek; it is a democratic responsibility you fulfil. When questions are answered with batons instead of reason, it is not the students who stand diminished. It is the State.Reflecting on his years in a Siberian prison camp, Fyodor Dostoevsky observed that the civilization of a society is revealed by the way it treats those it imprisons. One might extend that thought today: the health of a democracy is equally revealed by the way it treats its students and citizens. On that count, our democracy failed. In unleashing force instead of dialogue, those in authority revealed not their strength, but their insecurity.If I was not there beside you physically, it was for two reasons. The first one I resent deeply: age has imposed boundaries on my body that my spirit refuses to accept. If I could not march beside you, it was never because my conscience hesitated. The second was a conscious choice. I did not want the attention to drift away from where it rightly belongs. This is your movement, your voice, your moment of moral courage. You do not need celebrity validation. Democratic movements derive their legitimacy from the courage of those at their centre, not from the visibility of those who stand beside them.Please know that distance has never meant detachment. Sandhya and I shall continue to stand with you in every way available to us. Should this struggle require legal support, medical care, or financial assistance within our means, please do not hesitate to reach out.You are not merely the seeds of transformation; you are its first green shoots. Today you may be called students. Tomorrow you will be known as the generation that chose courage over silence. The future belongs to those who refuse to surrender their humanity. Long after today’s slogans have faded and today’s rulers have passed, it is your courage that history will remember. Take care of one another. Guard your compassion and your hope. Do not allow anger to harden into hatred. Stand firm. Walk forward without bitterness, without fear, and without apology.Affectionately,Amol PalekarJuly 23, 2026Amol Palekar is an actor, director, and producer of Hindi and Marathi cinema. This letter first appeared on Mid-Day.