By a senior editor, writing with four decades of stories, sacrifices, and silences witnessed in Indian journalism.
A Childhood That Built a Hero
Some heroes are not sculpted in academies or polished in training camps. They are shaped in quiet villages, in homes where discipline is not taught but lived.
Ashish Sharma grew up in Narsinghpur, Madhya Pradesh, a farmer’s son who understood hardship before he understood ambition towards his country. The fields teach two things: patience and persistence. And Ashish carried both skills to adulthood.
Long before the uniform, long before the gallantry medals, he was the boy who helped his father before sunrise in yielding crops , who studied under dim lights, who believed that service to the nation is not a slogan, it is a responsibility.
Becoming the Officer Everyone Counted On
When Ashish joined the police force, he wasn’t just another recruit. Even the seniors noticed a rare seriousness in him, not the loud kind, but the sort that sits quietly in the eyes.
He rose fast, not because he chased promotions, but because the toughest jobs naturally found him. His posting with the elite anti-Maoist Hawk Force was no accident. It was the system saying, “Send Ashish. He will get it done.”
Two gallantry awards came his way, but he wore them the way good officers do, with modesty. Ask his colleagues, and they’ll tell you he never spoke of his achievements. He spoke only of the mission ahead.
Rajnandgaon: Where Duty Demanded Everything
The forests of Rajnandgaon are unforgiving. I’ve reported from conflict areas for years, in backwards and secluded areas of Chhattisgarh, Gadchiroli, Dantewada, and every officer knew the dangers. Yet they went in.
On that fateful day, Inspector Ashish Sharma led his team deep into hostile territory. Maoist movement had been detected. Civilians were at risk. The unit moved.
When the encounter broke out, Ashish didn’t retreat, he advanced, shielding his team, firing back, holding the line. This wasn’t textbook bravery; it was instinctive. The kind only experience and conviction create.
He fell there, in the very forests he had patrolled countless times.
He was just two months away from his wedding.
The Man Behind the Medals
In journalism, I’ve interviewed countless officers. What stays with you is not their rank, but their humanity.
Ashish was the officer who remembered birthdays of constables’ children.
He was the man who made sure widows of martyred colleagues received help.
He was the leader who walked first, ate last.
Gallantry medals may define a career, but small acts of humanity define a legacy.
Why Stories Like His Barely Make the News
This is the part that pains me to write.
In today’s media climate, narratives flip faster than facts.
The moment a terrorist is neutralised, an entire machinery begins crafting emotional stories — their background, their trauma, their “circumstances.”
But where are the long-form features on men like Ashish Sharma?
Where are the prime-time discussions about their courage?
Where are the social media trends in their name?
We have normalised mourning villains and ignoring heroes.
And that, to me, is a national failure.
Why Social Media Must Step Up
Not every citizen can take a bullet for the country.
Not everyone can walk into a forest knowing they may not walk out.
But everyone can do this much, honour those who did.
We must amplify the stories of:
- Officers who give their youth to dangerous battlegrounds
- Families who spend years waiting for their loved ones to return
- Heroes whose courage never becomes “content” because it’s not controversial enough
If social media can trend dances, debates, and daily outrage, surely it can find space for real-life heroes.
A Final Salute
Inspector Ashish Sharma didn’t just serve the nation, he protected it quietly, consistently, and courageously.
His story deserves to be told.
Shared.
Remembered.
Passed on.
Because a country that forgets its heroes eventually loses the right to ask for more.
Om Shanti.
May his soul rest in peace. And may India never forget his sacrifice.
