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Where are those Kubers who could give us life-lasting riches?
Sep 24, 2025
A memory of Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve – the man who set up Bharat’s first school for widows and first university for women. Translated from Mangesh Tendulkar’s Marathi writing – I hope my English prose conveys the feeling evoked in me by his Marathi.
Extraordinary and unusual people give enormous life lessons to others even in their day to day living. Just watching them go about their normal routine can become a source of learning. A stroke of luck brings one into the presence of such saintly personalities, but even the few moments one spends thus, can create memories for a lifetime. Even without uttering a single word they say a lot for us to remember them by.
In 1941-42, between the Lakdi Pul (a bridge on the Mutha river) and Jondhale Chowk, my father had a small bookshop. On the opposite side of the street, there was a large grocery store. Since I was an unruly almost unmanageable child, my father used to bring me with him to his shop. Around 5.30 one evening, there was little traffic on the road and a few people in the store across.
‘…in the grocery store can you see that old gentleman? He is our Dhondo Keshav Karve.’ My father’s words drew my attention to the person. A frail looking, bent-backed quiet and oldish gentleman with a black topi on his head. He purchased some grain. Almost enough to fill half a sack. He walked down the 4 or so steps of the store, heaved the sack onto his back, and started walking towards the bridge keeping an eye on the street. He did not show even the remotest expectation that someone will see his situation and offer help. I have chosen this task and I need to do it. This simple clarity helped him to heft the sack on his back and start walking towards his destination beyond the bridge, towards his karmabhoomi Hingane, firmly and calmly stepping along.
A tongewala (horse-carriage driver) who was in those days infamous for his arrogance and insulting behaviour, saw this activity and went towards Karveji. He recognized Dhondo Keshav Karve, stopped his tonga and got down. Karveji was
gesturing to him to carry on. He bent down to touch Karveji’s feet and said, “O my father (majhya bapa), if after seeing the burden on your back I just leave, the Good Lord will send me to hell. Give me the sack.” He took the sack and put it in his tonga; then he took the old gentleman by his hand, seated him in his tonga and the tonga began its journey to Hingane. This event, roughly 70 years after it happened in front of my eyes, is still a fresh memory.
‘I have to fulfill the mission I have chosen. I cannot expect approbation or help. Neither should I have a feeling that I am doing anyone (even a beneficiary of my work) any favour. Should it so transpire, I must even accept ungratefulness and criticism. I cannot become disheartened. What I am doing is good. I will keep doing it. My age and my body will have to respect my decision. Without uttering even a syllable of the above, Dhondo Keshavji sent the entire message. His behaviour has impacted my entire future life. Like Dhondo Keshavji, even the tongawalla has made a home in my heart. ‘Whatever my profession, first of all I am a human being with my sensibilities intact and responsive,’ is the clear message he sent me in a manner that no actor or storyteller has ever managed since.
In just a few minutes those two people gave me riches to last a whole lifetime. I must find such Kubers now.. Do we need such Kubers today? A few excepts from a recent WhatsApp post by a gentleman called Anil Talwar to set context:
“We’re a nation perpetually demanding better amenities while shamelessly vandalizing the ones we already have.” “Somewhere along the way, the very idea of public good became someone else’s responsibility.” “It’s all noise and no nuance. Volume over value. Rights over responsibility.” “This isn’t just a governance failure. It’s a cultural and moral collapse. We’ve become a nation of people disconnected from consequences, addicted to shortcuts, and allergic to introspection.”
“India.. needs a civic reset. A rebirth of manners, public discipline, shared responsibility, and most importantly, self-respect.” “The mark of a civilized nation is not how loud it shouts at its leaders, but how quietly it respects what belongs to everyone.”
So, yes, in my humble opinion, we do need such Kubers and variations on them, as many as we can create or get.
Link for reference: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/where-those-kubers-who-could-give-us-life-lasting-riches-modak-bolyc
A memory of Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve – the man who set up Bharat’s first school for widows and first university for women. Translated from Mangesh Tendulkar’s Marathi writing – I hope my English prose conveys the feeling evoked in me by his Marathi.
Extraordinary and unusual people give enormous life lessons to others even in their day to day living. Just watching them go about their normal routine can become a source of learning. A stroke of luck brings one into the presence of such saintly personalities, but even the few moments one spends thus, can create memories for a lifetime. Even without uttering a single word they say a lot for us to remember them by.
In 1941-42, between the Lakdi Pul (a bridge on the Mutha river) and Jondhale Chowk, my father had a small bookshop. On the opposite side of the street, there was a large grocery store. Since I was an unruly almost unmanageable child, my father used to bring me with him to his shop. Around 5.30 one evening, there was little traffic on the road and a few people in the store across.
‘…in the grocery store can you see that old gentleman? He is our Dhondo Keshav Karve.’ My father’s words drew my attention to the person. A frail looking, bent-backed quiet and oldish gentleman with a black topi on his head. He purchased some grain. Almost enough to fill half a sack. He walked down the 4 or so steps of the store, heaved the sack onto his back, and started walking towards the bridge keeping an eye on the street. He did not show even the remotest expectation that someone will see his situation and offer help. I have chosen this task and I need to do it. This simple clarity helped him to heft the sack on his back and start walking towards his destination beyond the bridge, towards his karmabhoomi Hingane, firmly and calmly stepping along.
A tongewala (horse-carriage driver) who was in those days infamous for his arrogance and insulting behaviour, saw this activity and went towards Karveji. He recognized Dhondo Keshav Karve, stopped his tonga and got down. Karveji was
gesturing to him to carry on. He bent down to touch Karveji’s feet and said, “O my father (majhya bapa), if after seeing the burden on your back I just leave, the Good Lord will send me to hell. Give me the sack.” He took the sack and put it in his tonga; then he took the old gentleman by his hand, seated him in his tonga and the tonga began its journey to Hingane. This event, roughly 70 years after it happened in front of my eyes, is still a fresh memory.
‘I have to fulfill the mission I have chosen. I cannot expect approbation or help. Neither should I have a feeling that I am doing anyone (even a beneficiary of my work) any favour. Should it so transpire, I must even accept ungratefulness and criticism. I cannot become disheartened. What I am doing is good. I will keep doing it. My age and my body will have to respect my decision. Without uttering even a syllable of the above, Dhondo Keshavji sent the entire message. His behaviour has impacted my entire future life. Like Dhondo Keshavji, even the tongawalla has made a home in my heart. ‘Whatever my profession, first of all I am a human being with my sensibilities intact and responsive,’ is the clear message he sent me in a manner that no actor or storyteller has ever managed since.
In just a few minutes those two people gave me riches to last a whole lifetime. I must find such Kubers now.. Do we need such Kubers today? A few excepts from a recent WhatsApp post by a gentleman called Anil Talwar to set context:
“We’re a nation perpetually demanding better amenities while shamelessly vandalizing the ones we already have.” “Somewhere along the way, the very idea of public good became someone else’s responsibility.” “It’s all noise and no nuance. Volume over value. Rights over responsibility.” “This isn’t just a governance failure. It’s a cultural and moral collapse. We’ve become a nation of people disconnected from consequences, addicted to shortcuts, and allergic to introspection.”
“India.. needs a civic reset. A rebirth of manners, public discipline, shared responsibility, and most importantly, self-respect.” “The mark of a civilized nation is not how loud it shouts at its leaders, but how quietly it respects what belongs to everyone.”
So, yes, in my humble opinion, we do need such Kubers and variations on them, as many as we can create or get.
Link for reference: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/where-those-kubers-who-could-give-us-life-lasting-riches-modak-bolyc
A memory of Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve – the man who set up Bharat’s first school for widows and first university for women. Translated from Mangesh Tendulkar’s Marathi writing – I hope my English prose conveys the feeling evoked in me by his Marathi.
Extraordinary and unusual people give enormous life lessons to others even in their day to day living. Just watching them go about their normal routine can become a source of learning. A stroke of luck brings one into the presence of such saintly personalities, but even the few moments one spends thus, can create memories for a lifetime. Even without uttering a single word they say a lot for us to remember them by.
In 1941-42, between the Lakdi Pul (a bridge on the Mutha river) and Jondhale Chowk, my father had a small bookshop. On the opposite side of the street, there was a large grocery store. Since I was an unruly almost unmanageable child, my father used to bring me with him to his shop. Around 5.30 one evening, there was little traffic on the road and a few people in the store across.
‘…in the grocery store can you see that old gentleman? He is our Dhondo Keshav Karve.’ My father’s words drew my attention to the person. A frail looking, bent-backed quiet and oldish gentleman with a black topi on his head. He purchased some grain. Almost enough to fill half a sack. He walked down the 4 or so steps of the store, heaved the sack onto his back, and started walking towards the bridge keeping an eye on the street. He did not show even the remotest expectation that someone will see his situation and offer help. I have chosen this task and I need to do it. This simple clarity helped him to heft the sack on his back and start walking towards his destination beyond the bridge, towards his karmabhoomi Hingane, firmly and calmly stepping along.
A tongewala (horse-carriage driver) who was in those days infamous for his arrogance and insulting behaviour, saw this activity and went towards Karveji. He recognized Dhondo Keshav Karve, stopped his tonga and got down. Karveji was
gesturing to him to carry on. He bent down to touch Karveji’s feet and said, “O my father (majhya bapa), if after seeing the burden on your back I just leave, the Good Lord will send me to hell. Give me the sack.” He took the sack and put it in his tonga; then he took the old gentleman by his hand, seated him in his tonga and the tonga began its journey to Hingane. This event, roughly 70 years after it happened in front of my eyes, is still a fresh memory.
‘I have to fulfill the mission I have chosen. I cannot expect approbation or help. Neither should I have a feeling that I am doing anyone (even a beneficiary of my work) any favour. Should it so transpire, I must even accept ungratefulness and criticism. I cannot become disheartened. What I am doing is good. I will keep doing it. My age and my body will have to respect my decision. Without uttering even a syllable of the above, Dhondo Keshavji sent the entire message. His behaviour has impacted my entire future life. Like Dhondo Keshavji, even the tongawalla has made a home in my heart. ‘Whatever my profession, first of all I am a human being with my sensibilities intact and responsive,’ is the clear message he sent me in a manner that no actor or storyteller has ever managed since.
In just a few minutes those two people gave me riches to last a whole lifetime. I must find such Kubers now.. Do we need such Kubers today? A few excepts from a recent WhatsApp post by a gentleman called Anil Talwar to set context:
“We’re a nation perpetually demanding better amenities while shamelessly vandalizing the ones we already have.” “Somewhere along the way, the very idea of public good became someone else’s responsibility.” “It’s all noise and no nuance. Volume over value. Rights over responsibility.” “This isn’t just a governance failure. It’s a cultural and moral collapse. We’ve become a nation of people disconnected from consequences, addicted to shortcuts, and allergic to introspection.”
“India.. needs a civic reset. A rebirth of manners, public discipline, shared responsibility, and most importantly, self-respect.” “The mark of a civilized nation is not how loud it shouts at its leaders, but how quietly it respects what belongs to everyone.”
So, yes, in my humble opinion, we do need such Kubers and variations on them, as many as we can create or get.
Link for reference: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/where-those-kubers-who-could-give-us-life-lasting-riches-modak-bolyc
Devdutta Modak
