The Tiranga… is not merely a piece of cloth in three colours. It is the living embodiment of the blood that has flowed in our veins and has been offered, generation after generation, on the altar of freedom. When I hold it in my hands, two names echo in my heart — my maternal grandfather Hansraj Sodhi and my maternal uncle Lala Harbans. These names may not find place in the grand chapters of history books, yet they live forever in the memories of our family. In those dark days of British rule, when the flame of India’s freedom was on the verge of being extinguished, they turned the Tiranga not just into a flag to be hoisted, but into a way of living and dying. Countless families like ours transformed their homes into laboratories of revolution. The quiet service and fearless resolve of my Nana ji and Mama ji have bequeathed us this legacy: the Tiranga is not merely a flag — it is a responsibility. Mama ji served the sentence of Kala Pani. Even after making such immense sacrifices, my Nana ji neither accepted any position nor sought any privilege, because in his eyes this was pure, selfless service. As I grew up and began reading history, I realised that this responsibility was never limited to our family alone. Every province of the country offered its share of sacrifice before we could breathe the air of freedom. The soil of Rajasthan is equally heroic and steeped in sacrifice. The fragrance of the blood of revolutionaries can still be felt in its sands. The Barhath family of Shahpura — Kesari Singh, Pratap Singh and Zorawar Singh Barhath — shook the foundations of British rule. Sagar Mal Gopa of Jaisalmer sang the song of freedom even from the dark cells of prison. The farmers of Bijolia rose against the exploitation of the princely states. From 1857 to 1942, countless unknown martyrs laid down their lives — all true worshippers of the Tiranga. This scorching land of Rajasthan never bowed its head. Sparks of revolution continued to burn even within the princely states, until finally Rajasthan took its place on the map of free India. Today, as I serve as Assistant Director in the Department of Information and Public Relations of the Government of Rajasthan, every official message, every public-awareness campaign and every press release carries for me the image of that same Tiranga — the one that was nourished by the lives of my Nana Hansraj Sodhi and Mama Lala Harbans. Along with it, I also sense the fragrance of Rajasthan’s soil that has given birth to countless revolutionaries. The saffron reminds us that without sacrifice, freedom remains incomplete. The white teaches us that truth is the greatest strength. The green inspires us to move forward with resolve. And the Ashoka Chakra… that never-stopping wheel which keeps us constantly in motion. Holding the Tiranga, I offer only one prayer — O Tiranga!

Let not the sacrifices of my Nana, my Mama and countless other heroes go in vain. Keep the flame of revolution forever alive in this heroic land of Rajasthan. And make us strong enough so that we may live you not merely as a flag, but in our conduct, our service and our resolve. Jai Hind. Jai Rajasthan. Jai Tiranga. Ritu Sodhi