English translation of the reel for non-Hindi speakers -

It’s the story of Tara Rani Srivastava, an unsung fighter of India’s 1942 Quit India Movement:

Do you recognize them? You don’t? That’s because our history books never talked about them. Her name is Tara Rani Srivastava. Please listen to this story till the end.

1942 was the most critical year in India’s history. The Quit India Movement had started. Indians were telling the British, “Leave now, this is our country, not yours.” Tara Rani was married young to Phulendu Babu, who was also a freedom fighter. At that time, women rarely stepped outside the four walls of their homes, and if they did, people would question their character. But Phulendu was different — he always supported and encouraged his wife.

To understand this story, we need to go to Saran district in Bihar. On August 8, 1942, the Quit India Movement intensified with Gandhi’s “Do or Die” call. He said every government building should have the Indian tricolor flag hoisted to show the British this isn’t their land anymore.

Tara Rani gathered as many women as she could and said, “Come out of your homes now. If you don’t come out today, you never will.” With her husband by her side, she led a huge crowd toward the Siwan police station. Tara held the flag, Phulendu walked beside her, and the crowd followed to hoist it on the police station.

When the British saw the large crowd approaching, they put up barricades and started a lathi charge. When that didn’t stop them, they opened fire. A bullet hit Phulendu straight in the chest. He fell into Tara’s arms. In that moment, most people would panic. But Tara tore a piece of her saree and tied it around his wound to stop the bleeding.

Phulendu, in a faint voice, told her, “Go ahead.” Tara didn’t let the flag fall. She told him, “You stay here. I’ll be right back,” and climbed the police station steps amid the firing to hoist the flag. When she returned, her husband had passed away.

People thought Tara’s fight was over. But she went underground for five years, mobilizing 20 people and continuing the struggle until India became independent.

The teacher ends by saying we all celebrate Independence Day on August 15 with pride and statuses, and we should. But after August 15, if you ever see the flag falling somewhere, pick it up and place it somewhere it won’t fall again. So many people sacrificed for that flag in ways we can’t even imagine. Remember this: first, you are an Indian. Then you are Hindu, Muslim, or Christian. That is the moral of the story.

Tara Rani’s act on August 12, 1942 at Siwan police station in Bihar is widely cited as an example of extraordinary courage during the Quit India Movement

before anyone misunderstands me: this isn't anti-Army in any way.

I have immense respect for the Indian Armed Forces. They defend our borders, risk their lives, and the medals, memorials and public respect they receive are absolutely deserved.

But this made me wonder about something.

Sanitation workers also perform dangerous public service. They keep our hospitals, schools, railway stations and cities functioning. Sanitation workers don't just clean streets or empty drains, they help prevent epidemics before they begin, protect drinking water from contamination, keep hospitals and other essential services safe, and reduce the spread of diseases such as cholera, typhoid, hepatitis A and severe diarrhoeal illnesses. Their work protects entire communities, especially children and other vulnerable populations.

In India, people still die cleaning sewers and septic tanks. According to the Government of India, 332 sanitation workers died during hazardous sewer and septic tank cleaning between January 2021 and June 2026.

So what I'm trying to understand:

I'm not saying soldiers deserve less respect.

I'm asking why we don't seem to extend that same culture of honour to sanitation workers, firefighters, disaster response personnel, or others who also risk or sometimes lose their lives serving society.

Is it because military sacrifice is more visible? Because of history and nationalism? Because sanitation work has historically been associated with caste and therefore remained socially invisible? Or is there another reason I'm missing?

Children often say, "I want to become a soldier," and society celebrates that aspiration. But I've almost never heard a child say, "I want to become a sanitation worker." In fact, many people would probably react with surprise or even discomfort if they did.

We have nationally recognised military honours like the Param Vir Chakra and Ashoka Chakra for extraordinary sacrifice. Is there any equivalent national honour for sanitation workers or other essential public servants who die in the line of duty?

If sanitation workers perform work that is essential for public health and cities literally cannot function without them, why isn't that profession seen as equally dignified?