How the Tricolour and Lion Emblem Really Came to Be
Tyabji, Laila
September, 2023
A first-hand account of how the national emblem was designed.
[caption id="attachment_198222" align="aligncenter" width="521"]
A picture from when Badruddin Tyabji took over as Head of Mission in Belgium, a few months after India became independent. Credit: Author provided[/caption]
It was 1947 and the frenzy of Partition. My parents’ home was attacked and ransacked and my father survived an attempt to kill him. In those chaotic, strange times, it was a crazed young Sikh who aimed pointblank at his chest; a Hindu who twisted away the gun and saved him.
The year 1947 was also the year I was born. My father was a civil servant in the Constituent Assembly and my mother busy in the refugee camps set up at Red Fort. Homeless, camping with friends, it came as a shock that some of my father’s colleagues refused even to store their furniture, for fear of possible repercussions. What was even more shocking was how many urged my parents to go to Pakistan – something they never considered for a minute. For my parents and the rest of their extended families, the idea of a nation built on religion was claustrophobic. Both adored India’s multicultural, diverse ethos.
My father, as part of the prestigious Indian Civil Service, had been offered a top role in the newly-formed Pakistan government, but as he wrote to his father:
“You will I am sure not be surprised to hear that I have elected to remain in India (Hindustan) an...
A picture from when Badruddin Tyabji took over as Head of Mission in Belgium, a few months after India became independent. Credit: Author provided[/caption]
It was 1947 and the frenzy of Partition. My parents’ home was attacked and ransacked and my father survived an attempt to kill him. In those chaotic, strange times, it was a crazed young Sikh who aimed pointblank at his chest; a Hindu who twisted away the gun and saved him.
The year 1947 was also the year I was born. My father was a civil servant in the Constituent Assembly and my mother busy in the refugee camps set up at Red Fort. Homeless, camping with friends, it came as a shock that some of my father’s colleagues refused even to store their furniture, for fear of possible repercussions. What was even more shocking was how many urged my parents to go to Pakistan – something they never considered for a minute. For my parents and the rest of their extended families, the idea of a nation built on religion was claustrophobic. Both adored India’s multicultural, diverse ethos.
My father, as part of the prestigious Indian Civil Service, had been offered a top role in the newly-formed Pakistan government, but as he wrote to his father:
“You will I am sure not be surprised to hear that I have elected to remain in India (Hindustan) an...
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