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Being a leader was never difficult. Ordering people around, fulfilling the role of a *subedar* in the Army of the Britishers, having experience of more than forty years in Bengal horse artillery, and seeing the First Anglo-Afghan War, all were an integral part of my life. But none of these experiences worked when I reached Delhi.

> A simple cartridge could trigger the hearts of thousands and I was going to be one of them. These Goras thought that playing with our religion would not trigger our emotions and they could easily slip away from our wrath. Little did they know that they might be controlling us, but it is we who will ultimately destroy all their motives.

The news of the rebellion was spreading like wildfire in the forest. As soon as I heard of Bahadur Shah’s involvement, a surge of emotions ran through me. He was old and frail and had no control over the Britishers. Apart from that, he was a soft-spoken man. How will he be able to control the sepoys? I could not sleep the entire night, thinking of joining the rebellion. The uncertainty of winning this battle against those Goras was lingering in my heart.

The next day, I woke up with a headache. But nothing could stop me from joining my people in their struggle. I started my journey to Delhi on a horse’s back. Passing through the rough terrains and deadly nights, I finally reached Delhi on 1st July. When I reached Delhi, the scene unfolding in front of me chilled my heart. Were these my countrymen? They were brutally killing every single person who came in front of them including the women and children. Whatever the Britishers did with us, they deserved our wrath. I saw a huge army of Rohilla sepoys marching with a flambeau in their hands and rage in their eyes. They were like a huge bulldozer that crushed anything and everything that came under its way.

There was no time to think. Even though Bahadur Shah was proclaimed as the emperor, he was nowhere able enough to take the leash of control in his hands. I decided to take control of the Bareily Brigade that included four regiments of Bengal Native Infantry, one of cavalry, and a battle of artillery. If everything goes in a systematic order, then nobody can stop us from winning the battle. The Britishers did feel that they could no longer suppress us. Suddenly, a messenger came with a *paigam* sent by Bahadur Shah. He wanted to meet me in his court.

As soon as I reached his court, Shah came and hugged me. I was shocked at his sudden affection. Coming out of the reverie, I saw his son, Mirza Zahiruddin clenching his fists. Ignoring him, I looked at Shah who was appreciating my abilities. I was getting impatient. Now it was not the time. We had a battle at hand to deal with and here he was blabbering about me incessantly. 

> “You will be given the title of Saheb-e-Alam Bahadur”, said Shah.

My eyes widened at this piece of information. How could he give me the title of Lord Governor-General when his son is standing in front of me with an expression full of hatred and jealousy? Well, I don’t blame Bahadur because his son was a good-for-nothing fellow. With zero knowledge about the military, he was still given the position of commander-in-chief that he should be thankful for.

Everything was not as easy as it seemed to be. Challenges were standing in front of me, mocking at my helpless face. Though everyone was concerned about winning the battle against the *Firangis*, none of them realised that the financial strain was increasing rapidly. With no penny in hand, it was difficult to manage the expenses. I went to the emperor and asked him to grant me permission for collecting the taxes from the countrymen.

Also, the number of arms and ammunitions was getting exhausted due to their incessant use by the sepoys. Everything was getting out of my hands. The Britishers were no longer afraid of us. They started their assaults, took away the supplies, and hoarded them. Those stupid spies and agents of the Britishers were constantly threatening the emperor and asking him to back out. These dogs were supporting the Britishers instead of their countrymen.

> With every single minute, the condition of the army was deteriorating. Depreciating finances, lack of arms and ammunitions, disorganised sepoys, it felt as if everything was deliberately slipping out of our hands. Nobody knew of the impending times, but I was sure that the black clouds of fear and death were soon going to surround us.

It was a cartridge that triggered India’s First War of Independence. The cartridge had symbolically united Hindu and Muslim soldiers against their English masters. Had that war succeeded, perhaps the nation would not have been divided at birth 90 years later.