The Indian flag represents 1.4 billion Indians daily, even though it is raised only twice a year. This symbol did not appear suddenly; before it began to fly over the Red Fort, the Indian flag went through a long evolutionary path, including many different designs and embodying the dream of a free India.
In 1921, Pingali Venkayya presented one of the early sketches, while Mahatma Gandhi represented the spinning wheel as a symbol of self-sufficiency.
The flag known today was officially adopted by India on July 22, 1947. The colors have specific meanings: saffron symbolizes courage, white symbolizes truth and peace, and green symbolizes faith in the future. The spinning wheel was replaced by the Ashoka Chakra, which serves as a reminder of the need for constant forward movement of the nation.
The flag was first hoisted over independent India on August 15, 1947. Since then, it has accompanied battles, Olympic podiums, scientific breakthroughs, and the hands of Indians who dared to dream bigger. It is not just composed of three stitched colors; it carries the dreams of millions of people who did not get to see it flying.
When studying standard Indian history textbooks, it is easy to assume that the fight for freedom was exclusively the domain of men, with the exception of a few well-known figures such as Sarojini Naidu or Annie Besant. However, this is not the case.
Behind major political negotiations and famous speeches were teenage girls managing underground radio stations; grandmothers who walked directly into police fire; and young women secretly smuggling revolutionaries past colonial intelligence. They did not just participate—they led, plotted, threw bombs, and held the tricolor until their last breath.
Nevertheless, history has quietly erased them from memory. Below are ten women who gave everything for India's liberation, and the reasons why it is important to remember their names today.
Age does not matter when facing colonial rifles.
Imagine a 73-year-old woman leading a massive, defiant procession to a police station in Tamluk during the peak of the Quit India Movement in 1942. The British police shouted at the crowd to stop and opened fire. Matangini Hazra did not flinch. A local resident, known as Gandhi Puri (Old Gandhianka), continued walking forward, holding the national flag high and chanting 'Vande Mataram.' She was wounded several times, but she did not let the flag touch the ground until she fell.
A 17-year-old leader who knew exactly what she was dying for.
Kanaklata Barua had barely left childhood when she took charge of the Mitri Bahini (Death Squad) in Assam. On September 20, 1942, the 17-year-old girl led an unarmed group to hoist the tricolor at the Gohpur police station. When the police warned her that they were about to shoot, she did not turn around. She kept moving, holding the flag, until colonial bullets felled her.
A teacher who attacked a white supremacist club.
Pritilata was a brilliant student and school principal who chose revolutionary violence over passive submission. Joining the Surya Sena revolutionary cell in Chittagong, the 21-year-old Pritilata led an armed attack on the Pahartali European Club—a place notorious for the sign outside reading: 'Dogs and Indians are not allowed.' The raid was successful, but Pritilata came under crossfire. Refusing to allow the Raj to capture, interrogate, or parade her as a trophy, she took cyanide and died on her own terms.
The mastermind behind Bhagat Singh's disguise operation.
History books like to call Durga Bhabhi a 'helper' to male revolutionaries, but clarification is needed: she was an operative herself. After Bhagat Singh and Shivaram Rajguru killed the British officer J.P. Saunders in Lahore, Raj began a massive manhunt. This is where Durga Bhabhi appeared. Disguising herself as Bhagat Singh's stylish, affluent wife—with a child in tow—she calmly guided him past colonial guards and onto a train to Calcutta. She managed secret hideouts, financed revolutionary networks, and was one of the most ardent members of HSRA.
A bomb-thrower who refused to stay in the kitchen.
Another legendary figure from the Surya Sena network in Chittagong, Kalpana Datta, did not just support the uprising—she created it. She specialized in making explosives and disguised herself in men's clothing to transport ammunition through British checkpoints. She was arrested after an armed confrontation in 1933 and sentenced to life imprisonment. While Surya Sen was executed, Kalpana survived him and told the story of a generation of young women who traded pens and paper for dynamite.
She bandaged her husband's bullet wound and completed the march.
During the Quit India protests in 1942, Tara Rani and her husband Phulendu were marching to the Sivan police station when the police opened fire. Phulendu was instantly killed. Tara Rani did not scream or retreat. She tore a strip from her sari, bandaged his bleeding body, ordered him to stay put, and returned to the front line carrying the flag. When she finally returned to him after conducting the protest, he had already passed away. However, her resolve never faded.
At the age of nineteen, Archana Puran Singh left Dehradun with only one suitcase and a dream. This was followed by a forty-year journey that included auditions, iconic roles, television work, image imposition, online trolling, anxiety, and deeply personal trials.
Nevertheless, throughout all these stages, she constantly proved that she was much more than the labels people put on her. Becoming one of India's most recognizable television personalities, Archana learned to cope with the pressure of fame and public opinion, constantly choosing a path of development.
She transformed rejections into resilience, criticism into motivation, and any stereotypes into an additional reason to move forward. Her story goes beyond a mere career in the entertainment industry; it is a narrative of self-improvement without allowing others' perceptions to define her identity.
To see how Archana Puran Singh continued to choose growth both on screen and in life, one should watch the full story.
Following the abrogation of Article 370 in Jammu and Kashmir, attention is drawn to the fact that some laws related to local identity have remained unchanged. Specifically, the law on preserving certain trees, which regulates the protection of ancient Chinar trees, was not affected by the government.
The history of this tree dates back to the arrival of Muslims. According to legend, Emperor Jahangir was fascinated by the color of the majestic trees in the valleys, especially near Lake Jhelum and in Mughal gardens. One of his courtiers told him the story of 'Che-nar ast,' which translates to 'What heat?' although it was actually the red leaves falling from the royal tree in autumn. Over time, this word came to be called 'Chinar,' and it is believed that Jahangir gave this tree its name.
Although historians do not confirm this story, it remains a living part of Kashmiri popular consciousness. The Chinar has served as a romantic symbol for poets, Sufis, artists, and nature lovers for centuries. This tree is an integral part of Kashmir's identity.
According to Jammu and Kashmir Deputy Governor Manoj Sinha, the oldest Chinar tree in Kashmir was planted 647 years ago and is still growing in Bhatkwaram Badgam. These trees have survived the change of civilizations—from Muslims to Afghans, Sikhs, Dogra rule, and the establishment of independent India, as well as political and constitutional changes in the region.
On August 5, 2019, the Modi government repealed Articles 370 and 35A in Jammu and Kashmir, which was described as one of the largest constitutional changes in independent India. However, a law related to Kashmiri identity existed in parallel, which the government did not decide to affect. This is the Jammu and Kashmir Preservation of Specified Trees Act, 1969.
This law prohibits the felling or damaging of ancient Chinar trees without official permission. Despite the region's transition from a state to a union territory, this law remains in force. The reason for its preservation lies not in any special constitutional status, but in the protection of Kashmir's natural and cultural heritage. The Chinar is the state tree of the Union Territory of Jammu and Kashmir.
Unlike Article 370, which concerned a special constitutional provision, land rights, and citizenship, the tree preservation law is a local environmental and cultural law created in the public interest. After the reorganization, many useful laws, especially those concerning ecology, forestry, and local self-governance, were retained to ensure administrative continuity.
The Chinar symbolizes the beauty of the valley; its golden foliage is considered a symbol of Kashmir. In every village here, there is at least one Chinar tree. This law aims to prevent uncontrolled felling and damage to these trees.
A characteristic of the Chinar is the change in the color of its leaves: they are dark green in summer and take on bright shades of red, amber, and yellow in autumn. It is this spectacle that inspired the phrase 'Che-nar ast.' The scientific name of the tree is Platanus orientalis, and in local dialects, it is called 'Buen' or 'Buen.' It is often called the 'Oriental Maple' due to the similarity of its leaves to maple leaves.
According to experts, the tree requires 30 to 50 years to reach full height and about 100–150 years to attain full strength. The tree can reach a height of over 30 meters and have a diameter of over 150 meters.
In the history of Kashmir, the Chinar is closely associated with the Muslim Sultanate. Akbar planted over 1100 Chinar trees in Nishat Bagh near Dal Lake. Muslims contributed not only to giving the tree a beautiful name but also to creating a picturesque landscape. These trees witnessed the relaxation of Muslims in gardens such as Shalimar and Nishat.
The Chinar has also crossed paths with love and religion. They were planted near religious sites. Today, they can be seen in Hindu temples, such as the Hir-Bhavani temple in Gandarbal, as well as in Islamic shrines, such as the Hazratbal shrine in Srinagar. In Kashmiri cultural and literary tradition, the Chinar stands as a symbol of life, separation, and spirituality.
The Chinar has also featured in the works of personalities. Former Chief Minister of Jammu and Kashmir Sheikh Muhammad Abdullah named his autobiography 'Atish-e-Chinar' (Flame of the Chinar). Singer Hasrat Jahpuri used the motif of the Chinar in the song 'Bedardi Balma...' from the film 'Arzoo,' expressing the pain of separation.
Furthermore, a unit of the Indian Army responsible for security in the Kashmir Valley is named 'Chinar Corps.' Regardless of changes in governments and constitutional amendments, the law protecting this unique part of Kashmiri identity remains in force, indicating that some things are more important than politics—they are the memory of civilization.
