The Forgotten Visionary Who Gave India Its Tricolour: How Pingali Venkayya’s Design Became The Nation’s Most Powerful Symbol

Every year on Independence Day, millions of Indians gather around flagpoles, television screens and public ceremonies to watch the tricolour rise. It unfurls with a snap, the saffron, white and green glowing under the morning sun, and for a moment the country seems to stand still. This isn’t merely a piece of cloth; it’s the story of a civilisation stitched together with sacrifice, unity and hope. Yet, for all its familiarity, few pause to ask: who created this emblem of our collective identity? Textbooks devote paragraphs to battles and policies, but the story of the man behind the flag is a footnote at best. That man was Pingali Venkayya – a quiet visionary whose life spanned colonial India’s turbulence and who left behind an enduring national

symbol.

Born in a Small Village, Dreaming Big

Pingali Venkayya entered the world on 2 August 1879 in Pedakallipalli, a modest village in the Krishna district of what is now Andhra Pradesh. He was the sort of boy who asked endless questions and devoured books. His thirst for learning took him far beyond the village’s dusty lanes – even to Cambridge University, at a time when such an academic journey was rare for an Indian. His path was unconventional. As a young man he travelled to South Africa, serving in the Boer War. There he crossed paths with Mahatma Gandhi. The two men came from very different worlds but shared a commitment to India’s freedom. Gandhi’s talk of self-reliance and moral courage left a mark on Venkayya. And one jarring sight – Indian crowds saluting the British Union Jack at political gatherings – became an enduring source of pain.

A Spark That Became a Mission

In 1906, at an All India Congress Committee session, Pingali first floated the idea of a national flag. To him, this was no ornamental gesture. Nations rally around symbols, and India needed its own. Over the next several years he immersed himself in research. From 1916 to 1921, he studied the flags of thirty countries, noting how colours and symbols could tell a story. Out of this emerged his book, A National Flag for India, a slim but revolutionary volume laying out a series of designs rooted in India’s heritage and pluralism. Fun fact: the very idea of codifying a national flag design in print was unusual for an Indian freedom fighter. Most were writing political tracts; Venkayya was sketching banners.

From Design to Recognition

Venkayya never tired of pitching his idea. At each Indian National Congress session he came prepared with sketches, prototypes and arguments. Finally, in April 1921, his persistence paid off. Gandhi, by now the movement’s moral centre, heard him out and publicly praised his dedication in his journal Young India. The proposed flag had three stripes – red for sacrifice, white for purity, green for hope – with a spinning wheel at the centre, representing self-reliance. It was not adopted overnight, but the concept took hold. By 1931 the Congress formally adopted a tricolour flag based on his work, and when independence arrived in 1947, the Constituent Assembly approved a slightly modified version. The Charkha gave way to the navy-blue Dharma Chakra, but the colours and layout remained.

A Flag Triumphant, a Creator Forgotten

On 22 July 1947, just weeks before independence, the Assembly passed the resolution adopting the tricolour. It was the culmination of decades of sacrifice and vision – including Pingali’s. Yet the man himself slipped into obscurity. He spent his final years in his native village, largely unrecognised and living in modest circumstances. He died in 1963, decades before official honours began to trickle in. It was not until 2009 that a commemorative postage stamp bore his name; later, a statue in Hyderabad was erected. There’s a poignant irony here: the flag that unites a billion people was crafted by someone who died almost anonymous.

Remembering the Man Behind the Colours

Today, the tricolour flutters from Parliament House to remote mountain posts, from school assemblies to global sporting arenas. Each time it rises, it carries with it Pingali Venkayya’s quiet labour. The next time you hoist the national flag, think of the young man from Pedakallipalli who believed India deserved its own symbol long before independence was a certainty. His story is a reminder that history’s most powerful contributions often come not from the loudest voices but from the steadfast dreamers working in the background.