He sat there, dressing his wounds, most of his attention went towards the happenings outside the window, rather than, a week old wound. He was in a cell, bound by walls from all four sides with just a window for his entertainment! He could see far, off of the huge compound, guarded by fences.
He had no clocks, to set an alarm. But, his timings were unshakable! He was not just an early bird, but a night owl too, would spend most of his time witnessing the outside happenings, even though he was in jail, he had no regrets! He was all proud for whatever he did!
The wound wouldn't bother him much, but the state of his nation, which bothered him the most! Seeing lakhs and lakhs of people holding the tricolor, shouting 'vande mataram' , jai hind, long live Bharat, inquilab zindabad, was a everyday thing.
Yes, you guessed it right! He was a freedom fighter. He would rather die
And be called a martyr, than live a slave's life!