Dr. Alan Davies Alappat, 59

The purpose of life is a life of purpose”
Robert Byrne

In 1972, Dr Alan Davis Alapatt was planning to immigrate to the US. He didn’t know that his decision to stay back would change the lives of thousands in India. Last year, he entered the Limca Book of Records for offering free polio immunisation vaccines to over 19,000 children. Since 1994, he also runs a free clinic for the Warli tribal community in Talwada, Maharashtra. There, he has treated more than 20,000 villagers; cured hundreds of people of leprosy; opened an old age home for abandoned silvers; and set up a rainwater harvesting project. Dr Alapatt works well past midnight at his clinic in Mumbai every day. But he still finds time to organise picnics for AIDS-afflicted children, and to perform free cornea removal surgeries for eye banks. This compassionate hero still believes he has a long way to go—and a lot more to give.

Mukesh Anand, 59

For Mukesh Anand, service is a way of life. A former distributor for an automotive company, an accident in 1997 left him on crutches for a year. It also opened his eyes to the plight of the physically challenged. In collaboration with Rotary International, he set up an income-generating scheme for polio victims. Then, the Army asked Anand to help rehabilitate war-wounded soldiers after Kargil. He responded with Mission Vijay 2, persuading corporate houses to employ over 1,500 ex-servicemen. And now, he has come to the aid of impoverished cycle-rickshaw pullers in Gurgaon. He got five rickshaws fitted with ice boxes. This enabled the pullers to earn an extra Rs 600 per month by selling cold drinking water. Corporation Bank will now finance ice boxes for over 8,000 rickshaws in Gurgaon. Today, Mukesh Anand, who has always idolised Sunil Dutt, is no less of a hero.

Meenakshi Balasubramanian, 62

Meenakshi Balasubramanian chose to view her son’s disability not as a roadblock but a reason to build another road. She started the Mutually Beneficial Activity Foundation in 2001 to rehabilitate the disabled and restore their self-esteem. Today, the MBA Foundation addresses the special needs of 72 young men and women. Further, it motivates them to recognise their talents and stand on their own feet. Members of the Foundation make a variety of products and market them on their own. Many have found jobs in multinationals, others are pursuing degrees while many more are part of an executive training programme. Balasubramanian is now building a vocational and day care centre at Gorai in Mumbai. She also wants to build a seniors’ home so ageing parents can live in proximity to their differently abled children. Her work is proof that no dream is impossible, no matter how different we are.

Dr Ganesh Narayandas Devy, 59

In the fast-paced world we live in, there are voices that are slowly fading into oblivion. Voices that speak of our roots… our identity. Dr Ganesh Narayandas Devy believes these vanishing languages don’t just remind us where we have come but also show us where we are headed. In 1996, he set up the Bhasha Trust to conserve minority languages and protect the human rights of marginalised tribes. Today the Trust has grown to represent the most insistent voice of progress in 2,200 tribal villages. Over the years, Dr Devy helped set up a micro-credit group that now has 300,000 members; a food grain bank that reaches out to 150 villages; an academy for research of tribal studies; a crafts cooperative for promotion of tribal art; and a green economic zone to save tribal land from the ruthless grasp of industrialisation. His is a voice that will only echo louder with time.

Asa Dutta, 80

Education is a process that changes the learner. It changed Asa Dutta’s life. Daughter of a schoolteacher, she used education for her own fulfilment—and to make thousands of women self-reliant. Her adult literacy programme and tailoring school for women from Guwahati’s slums have given them a reason to celebrate life and age. Dutta’s quest for learning is her power. Recently, she completed her training in counselling at the Peace Centre in the Guwahati Archbishop’s campus. The oldest student in her course, she had no problem mixing with young collegians. She even had the best attendance record. Inspired by former president A P J Abdul Kalam’s Ignited Minds, she is now writing her own autobiography—a journey through history; a story of grit and gumption, and the story of an abiding faith in the women she inspires.

Dr Sister Jude, 67

Plagued by crime, illiteracy and lack of healthcare services, Mau in eastern Uttar Pradesh is the real India. With no other medical facility in a 40-km radius, the only hope is Fatima Hospital. Here, Dr Sister Jude and her team assure expectant mothers that they are in safe hands. Dr Jude came to Mau in 1976 for a three-month stint and never left. In these 33 years, she has performed 70,000 caesareans, conducted corrective surgeries for birth defects and handled the most complex gynaecological problems. She is a recipient of the Karamveer Samman for her contribution to healthcare by the Gorakhpur-based Yuva Chetna Samiti. Dr Jude has also started a course called DAWN DGO where two medical students will train with her for two years. With a miraculous touch that extends to the papayas in her garden, Dr Jude is Mau’s Gaurav, its pride.

Pradeep Kshetrapal, 56

A school in a sleepy town in Chhattisgarh is leading the battle for the needs of special children. The man behind this school in Korba is Pradeep Kshetrapal. Set up in 1998, the Rotary School for Deaf, Blind and Autistic provides education up to Class X, vocational training and residential facilities. About 80 per cent of the children here are from poor families. For over 10 years, Kshetrapal faced endless hurdles to establish the school and register it with the state board. Lack of trained special educators was the most daunting challenge. Today, the school houses 120 children and 22 staff members. And last year, Chhattisgarh hosted its first workshop on autism. Kshetrapal wants us all to understand that special children don’t need charity or pity. Like every child, they have an absolute right to education—it is we who are impaired if we fail to impart it.

Anupam Mishra, 57

Anupam Mishra believes the past holds the key to the future. Thirty years of studying India’s driest regions have convinced him of one thing: traditional systems like tanks and bunds are the best way to tackle water shortage. And he aims to convince the world of this. His books Aaj Bhi Khare Hain Talab and Rajasthan Ki Rajat Boondein have sold nearly 100,000 copies, and have been translated in five languages. They are veritable do-it-yourself handbooks. He also corresponds with over 3,000 readers and participates in international events to spread the message. In fact, his work has inspired many others. Two examples are NGO Tarun Bhagat Sangh, which received the Magasaysay Award in 2001, and last year’s Harmony Silver Award winner Laxman Singh. Today, Mishra heads the environmental cell of the Gandhi Peace Foundation but insists on a low profile. He refuses to accept any royalty for his work, or acclaim—he just wants people to listen.

Sindhutai Sapakal, 61

‘Against all odds’ could well be Sindhutai Sapakal’s anthem. Neither social ostracism, nor poverty and hardship stopped her from forging a new life for herself—and over 1,000 orphans. She has given them her name, and a home in her five centres for unwanted children and destitute women in Maharashtra. At 61, Sindhutai sets a blistering pace, travelling across the country, raising awareness—and funds—for her work. Now she awaits the completion of her dream project, the five-storey Sanmati Bal Niketan. And continues to seek out orphan children to add to her brood. “If someone needs a mother, I am there,” she proclaims. She was there for Shyam Randive 30 years ago, when she rescued him from the streets. Now, the college professor is paying tribute to his saviour by writing a PhD thesis on her life.

Bhausaheb Thorat, 85

200 km away from Mumbai’s power crisis and urban turmoil, a quiet social revolution is taking root. Dry as dust three years ago, Sangamner in the interiors of Maharashtra is lush with the colour of life. The man behind the tehsil’s green potential is 85 year-old Bhausaheb Santuji Thorat. A visionary in the disguise of a simple farmer, Bhausaheb has awakened the collective conscience of 50,000 people. In 2006, he launched the Dandakaranya Movement, a crusade to sow millions of seeds every monsoon. Its origin lies in the epic Ramayana, when the sage Agastya turned the arid Dandakaranya region into a green haven. The movement, which has been lauded by the United Nations’ Environment Programme, has inspired a book—and an entire generation of farmers. Despite Bhausaheb’s failing health, his imagination, ideas and hope continue to soar. He is sure there will be plenty of trees one day.

Baba Adhav, 78, Pune

Adhav set up Hamal Panchayat in Barshi (Solapur district, Maharashtra) in 1955 for fighting for the causes of the hamal (or 'coolies'). The Association of Maharashtra Farmers affected by dams and projects was also formed by Adhav and his comrade Datta Deshmukh. Their persistent efforts led to the enactment of the first ever Rehabilitation Act in India. Today, Adhav is involved with about 20 organisations that encompass everyone from porters (hamal), loaders (mathadi) and construction workers to domestic workers, brick kiln workers, quarry workers, cycle rickshaw pullers, waste-pickers, hawkers and vendors. His latest crusade is to get the Unorganised Sector Workers' Social Security Bill, 2005, passed as an Act.

Brother Brendan Maccarthaigh, 70, Kolkata

MacCarthaigh developed a study module-Student's Empowerment, Rights and Vision through Education (SERVE)-in 1996 to de-stress children during examinations and minimise student suicides. In 2001, Janaki Rajan, then director of State Council Educational Research and Training (SCERT) Delhi allowed the system to be adopted in the state but the programme was stopped after Rajan's term. While La Martiniere School for Girls uses it for lower classes in Kolkata, Rajasthan and Uttarakhand began to support the module since last year. Now, MacCarthaigh hopes to motivate retired silvers to become more active in the community and join the movement to make Indian classrooms happier places.

Hardev Singh Sawhney, 76, Delhi

In 2006, Patel Nagar police station in Delhi appointed Sawhney honorary special police officer (HSPO)-the friendly, civilian face of police involved in sensitive cases like family and property disputes where people are often wary of lodging a police complaint. Going a step ahead, Sawhney has adopted eight silvers living alone in his colony. He visits them regularly, pays their bills and fits safety gadgets at his own expense to ensure their security. In case of medical emergencies, he even helps with hospitalisation. In July 2008, he was issued a certificate of appreciation by the police station for his 'pioneering work in protecting interest of senior citizens'.

Hasnath Mansur, 70, Bengaluru

Former principal of a girl's college, Mansur has committed herself to educate poor Muslim women and make them aware of their rights under the constitution. In May 2008, her organisation Tameer (Arabic for 'creating' or 'constructing') completed a three-year project sponsored by the International Foundation for Electoral Systems (IFES) to spread information and education among Muslim women in the city through a series of camps. Tameer also aims to empower disadvantaged Muslim women by offering small loans to start small-scale business with the help of self-help groups. Mansur was recently successful in getting the Karnataka State Minorities Finance Development Corporation (KSMFDC) to grant loans to these women.

Hirbaiben Lobi, 55 Junagadh, Gujarat

The Siddis, one of Gujarat's most backward communities, have for centuries led life in the shadows, marginalised and illiterate. Now, the future seems brighter for this tribe, thanks to Lobi. Illiterate herself, she is leading a quiet revolution across 18 villages in Saurashtra. Her initiatives include a cooperative movement, family planning, and small savings group. Competing successfully against established brands, her vermicompost manufacturing group sold compost worth Rs 700,000 last year. Helping to build a community school for the Siddis, she's now planning a college. Lobi has won the Women's World Summit Foundation Prize (2002) and the Jankidevi Bajaj Award (2006) for Rural Entrepreneurship.

Kambel Chulai, 69, Meghalaya

Chulai was always troubled that his clan required two full-grown pine trees to build a frame-like pyre for cremating the dead. His crematorium has two parts-the pyre and a kiln-like structure, which directs the path of the flames and intensifies the heat. And instead of about Rs 5,000, only Rs 200 worth of firewood is needed. Taking eight years to develop the design, the first cremation took place in June 2003-after convincing his people to shun a life-long custom. Almost 80 per cent of cremations in Jowai now take place in this crematorium, which has the potential to become an eco-friendly model nationwide.

Laxman Singh, 52, Lapodiya, Rajasthan

Singh's ingenious method of water harvesting turned a poor and arid Lapodiya into a drought-proof and poverty free village. His chauka system-channels and square pits fringed by bunds in a chequerboard pattern over a 5-km expanse-collects rainwater and allows it to flow through dry wastelands, converting them into grassy patches ready for pasture. In recent years, his chauka have sprung up all over Rajasthan, over an estimated 30,000 hectare in 700 villages. In March 2008, Singh started a two-year project funded by UK-based Wells for India. The NGO has already offered about Rs 3 million to extend its water-harvesting programme to include more villages in the area.

Mandakini Dravid, 81, Pune

On 25 June 2008, Dravid became the oldest person to be awarded a PhD by the University of Pune-at the age of 81. Her thesis 'Medical and Psychiatric Social Work Practice-Process and Analysis' is a sum of her work as a trained social worker at Sassoon Hospital, Pune, for the past 40 years. Dravid has worked at Yerawada Mental Hospital and many other hospitals across Maharashtra on diverse issues related to the mentally ill, physically challenged, unmarried mothers, abandoned babies, adoption, marital discord, alcoholism, drug addiction and disaster management. In 1973, she started Sreevatsa-an orphanage for abandoned children that also arranges adoptions.

Parthibhai Bhatol, 65, Ahmedabad

Two years ago, Bhatol took over the reins of India's largest milk food business from Verghese Kurien, the brain behind the White Revolution, to become the first farmer in the country to lead the Gujarat Cooperative Milk Marketing Federation (GCMMF), or Amul. There were critics aplenty. But Bhatol has silenced them all. On his watch, GCMMF's turnover went up 39 per cent from Rs 3,774 crore in 2005-06 to Rs 5,255 crore in 2007-08. "We are aiming to cross Rs 6,500 crore by next year and Rs 10,000 crore in two to three years," says the champion of marginalised farmers, who has also worked as a primary school teacher.

Subhashini Mistry, 60, Hanspukur, West Bengal

Mistry overcame abject poverty to establish Humanity Hospital, which offers free medical care to the poor in Hanspukur, near Kolkata. To build the hospital, she sold vegetables, scrubbed floors and worked as a daily labourer at construction sites. The hospital started in a temporary shed in 1993; today, it has expanded to 10,000 sq ft spread over two floors and has 35 beds. Until recently, the hospital had a makeshift operation theatre. In December 2007, a new operation state-of-the-art theatre comparable to those found in the best private hospitals was inaugurated. Mistry's dream: to make Humanity Hospital a 700-bed, super-speciality hospital.

Arvind Gupta, 54, Pune

Arvind Gupta makes real the fantasy play that happens in every child’s mind. At the Inter-University Centre for Astronomy and Astrophysics (IUCAA) at Pune University, he creates teaching aids that he loves to call “toys”. His office is littered with finds from the local bazaar, garbage cans or his own house. There are broken CDs, used Tetrapaks, bicycle valves and tubes, film rolls, magnets, plastic straws, used refills of ballpoint pens, all types of paper, worn-out bathroom slippers, pins, matchsticks and matchboxes, mirrors, bangles and combs.

These form the bedrock of fundamentals in science for young students who visit IUCAA thrice a week in batches of 50. Dr Jayant Narlikar, the famous astrophysicist who set up the centre, assigned the space at IUCAA to Gupta in 2004 (until then Gupta was a teacher on the move). This year, in celebration of completing three years here, Gupta has finished uploading over 700 books for children, parents and teachers on his website, www.arvinduptatoys.com. Inaugurated by former president A P J Abdul Kalam in June 2007, the website is a treasure-trove of rare books, also translated into Hindi and Marathi by Gupta and his friends. Soon the library will also benefit the visually impaired who can read books online using screen-reading software like JAWS.

“It’s my dream to make this online library as big as www.gutenberg.com, the world’s largest online database of free books. Our focus will be on valuable literature that is out of print because publishers didn’t find it viable to print another edition,” says Gupta, who quit his job as an engineer at TELCO in the early 1970s to train rural teachers. Partners in the project were experts who had quit their respective fields to reshape the educational milieu.

Avatar Krishna Hangal, 90, Mumbai

Mashhoor Amrohi’s debut film Hum Laakh Chhupayein Pyaar Magar hits theatres this December with a rather unlikely opening cameo: A K Hangal as a power-driven rogue, frolicking at a nightclub with two young lovelies. “You’d never expect to see Hangal sahib in a role like this,” says Amrohi, writer, director and lead actor of the film. “But he plays it to perfection.”

Hangal knows he was—is—good. “It was a small role but at least I got the chance to show a different side,” he says tersely. “I want to keep trying different roles to test myself.” The statement is an unwitting metaphor for his life; in his 90 years, A K Hangal has worn many hats, experienced highs and lows, laughter and tears.

“I have seen and suffered life,” he says. “I have used all these experiences, my feelings and sentiments in my acting.” That acting has won him the Padmabhushan (in 2006) and wide acclaim—seminal Bengali filmmaker Ritwik Ghatak once called him the greatest actor in the world, a fact he remembers with pride. Hangal ranks his roles as the blind father in Sholay and Sardar Patel in Mountbatten – The Last Viceroy, an English film, as his finest.

Recovering from a recent fall, Hangal is remarkably agile and independent, and credits his good health to a life well led—although he doesn’t exercise any more, he played hockey, football and volleyball in his youth. He assures you he’s happy because he’s lived life “without making compromises”.

Azim Premji, 62, Bengaluru

By now, we already know how Azim Premji shaped one of the world’s most formidable software empires—Wipro. What you probably don’t know is that Azim Premji once aspired to become a teacher. Today, 62 year-old Premji has touched base with his childhood ambition and is out to change the face of education in India. In 2007, the Azim Premji Foundation launched a pilot project in Karnataka involving about 80 schools to understand the role of community in education. Efforts are also on to educate 53000 education functionaries in the next 18 months.

The Foundation, established in 2001, has collaborated efforts with 20,000 schools and 45,000 educators to make learning a more meaningful and creative experience for children across the country, particularly in rural areas where dropout rates are woefully high. The 1,200 professionals who work with the foundation focus on both academic content and delivery mechanism including curriculum, assessment, classroom practices, school and education management, and leadership development. They also develop multimedia learning tools and economically viable ideas for computer-assisted learning. The initiative, steadily gaining the girth of a revolution, has touched the lives of 2.5 million children in Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh and 14 other states. Premji in his trademark down-to-earth style is not ready to accept any kudos yet. “With 19 million children out of school in this country, I don’t think anyone can talk of achievements.”

Chelekkodan Ayesha, 87, Malappuram

With six children, 18 grandchildren and 12 great grandchildren, Ayesha Chelekkodan is the last person you’d expect to see in school. In 2007, at the age of 87, though, Ayesha completed her formal education, appearing for her Secondary School Leaving Certificate (SSLC) examination.

“I had never been to school,” reminisces the octogenarian from picturesque Kavanoor village in Malappuram—influenced by national fervour of the 1920s, Moideen, a small-time shopkeeper from northern Kerala and Ayesha’s father, did not enrol any of his three children (two daughters and a son) in school. “I always wondered what it would be like to be able to read bus signs and newspapers and medical prescriptions. All my life, I had nurtured a dream to complete formal education,” says Ayesha whose journey to literacy began in 1990, when at the age of 70, she enrolled in the government-sponsored literacy drive. “I remember the questions that the anganwadi teachers asked. I was always the first to answer.”

Ayesha’s sharp mind did not go unnoticed. In 1991, the State Literacy Commission chose her among thousands of candidates to declare Kerala’s 100 per cent literacy status in front of a huge crowd, which included top politicians and bureaucrats gathered in Mananchira Maidan in Kozhikode. She went on to pass her Class IV and Class V exams with ease in 1995 and 1998 respectively. Though her enthusiasm was admirable, her financial status remained a major deterrent. As word got around, generous donors from Kerala and abroad supplied her with fees, books and stationery. Finally, in April this year, Ayesha appeared for her SSLC exam—the oldest among 700 candidates from the state.

Chewang Norphel, 72, Ladakh

The map in Chewang Norphel’s office in Leh is his, as much as Ladakh’s, progress report. Nicked on it are roads, culverts, brick-and-log bridges, canals, greenhouses, sheds to breed sheep, food processing units and micro hydroelectric units. And then there are water catchments (or artificial glaciers, as the world calls them) that have completely changed the face of this cold, mountainous desert, so much so that Norphel, after creating seven such glaciers, has come to be fondly called Ladakh’s ‘glacier man’. This year, he has presented the state government a new homegrown technology that can avert seepage in artificial glaciers, a huge problem that reduces the accumulated water by half. The technology is awaiting funds.

Ladakh gets just about 7 cm of rain every year and water shortage is acute in the ‘window time’ between March and June when Ladakhi farmers sow wheat, barley and peas. But they have to wait for glaciers to melt, which happens only after July. Any delay in receiving water for the crops rules out the vital October harvest. One day Norphel noticed a helper in his backyard leaving the tap open to prevent water from freezing in pipes. Seconds after flowing from the tap, water froze in the connected drain; frozen water kept getting pushed away with more water flowing into the drain. “It was simple. The melting water from glaciers simply needed to be brought closer to villages in the rain-shadow area,” says Norphel.

Norphel’s average glacier is 600 ft long and 150 ft deep and can collect 6 million gallons of water, enough to sustain four villages. Though half of it is lost to seepage and evaporation, it sustains four villages and 1,500 farmers. It also recharges local springs and replenishes ground water.

Deep Joshi, 61, Delhi

Engineers and management students from institutes like IIM and IIT occupy a large utilitarian hall with rows of bamboo partitions forming cubicles at the Delhi office of Pradan, an NGO headed by former MIT management expert Deep Joshi. He has proved that development is both a challenging and noble choice—and in no way inferior intellectually to high science, industry and diplomacy.

Topping the list of achievements of Pradan is a dairy revolution in Jharkhand. In December 2005, Pradan began a campaign to convince tribal women in the state to take up dairy as a commercial venture. “They considered it a sin to deprive a calf of its mother’s milk,” recalls Joshi, who with his team worked with 80 women from remote Kudu and Sneha, two blocks in the backward Lohardaga district. “We challenged their conventional wisdom, helped them form self-help groups to raise funds to buy superior crossbred cows, trained them in veterinary care, introduced them to farmers already doing it, and imparted skills to form a milk cooperative modelled on AMUL.” They also set up a processing plant with the capacity to process 10,000 litres milk. This year, the cooperative has grown enough to supply 6,000 litres of milk to the plant—last year, they only managed 1,200 litres. The number of members of the cooperative has also grown dramatically—600 women are part of the movement now.

What’s more, these women managing the cooperative can maintain their accounts with user-friendly software called Computer Munshi that keeps a tab on credits and debits and issues passbooks. “Our idea was to pull these families over the poverty line,” says Joshi. “While their annual income was about Rs 20,000 each earlier, now they make Rs 10,000 each more. And the cooperative ensures they will earn this amount year after year. I am happy the institution will now perpetuate itself.”

Ram Chander Sharma, 87, Jaipur

In 1969, orthopaedic surgeon Dr Pramod Karan Sethi and his apprentice Ram Chander Sharma together developed the world’s lightest prosthesis, the Jaipur Foot. Twelve years later, Dr Sethi was presented the Magsaysay Award for bringing it to the world’s attention, while Sharma, who actually engineered the artificial limb (he was inspired by a cycle mechanic fixing a ruptured tube), went unrecognised. At 87, Sharma is proud not to have harboured any regrets or enmity. “I was illiterate and couldn’t have made the Jaipur Foot without Dr Sethi’s help,” he acknowledges.

Today, not only is Sharma active at Bhagwan Mahaveer Viklang Sahayata Samiti (BMVSS) in Jaipur—the organisation set up in 1975 to provide the artificial limb free to the poor—he is also going the whole distance with the NGO. After camping for years in war-torn countries like Afghanistan, Nairobi, Rwanda and Iraq, on 7 August 2007 BMVSS set up its first permanent base in foreign land to manufacture the limb: the Mahaveer Ka-mina Artificial Limb Centre in Colombia. As Sharma is too old to go there himself, he trains technicians for the centre and helps them fabricate a large part of each limb before it is finished in Colombia. “I may not lead, but I am happy to help the foot take bigger strides,” he says.

The foot that will go to Colombia has come a long way, too. From the wood-and-rubber prosthesis Sharma invented (he is from a family of sculptors who carved the idols at Jaipur’s famous Amber Fort), the foot was later crafted from beaten aluminium sheets. With support from modern tools, the foot is now made from locally available high-density polyethylene (bio-inert, non-toxic material). But its essence remains the same—lightweight, low cost and closest to a normal human limb—making it the world’s best all-functional, all-terrain artificial limb.

Ravinder Kumar, 54, Delhi

Manufacturing tractors seems an unlikely vocation for a man who graduated in history from Delhi’s elite St. Stephens’s College and did his MBA at Mumbai’s Jamnalal Bajaj Institute of Management Studies. Ravinder Kumar, though, hastens to explain that he has “reverence for agriculture”.

Kumar introduced Angad 200, India’s cheapest low-capacity farm tractor, in the Indian market in 2004. The 22 horsepower (HP) vehicle has a load-carrying capacity of over 3 tonne and is 25 per cent more fuel efficient than any other tractor in the Indian market. It costs 60 per cent less to maintain than any comparable product and its buyers are India’s debt-ridden farmers with small land holdings. All this comes at a price of Rs 99,000, one-third the price of an ordinary tractor.

From January 2007, Angad has become even more accessible, with major banks such as State Bank of India, Punjab National Bank, Allahabad Bank, Oriental Bank of Commerce and Bank of India approving it for retail financing. This year, Kumar also established the Angad Seva Kendra in Pune where village boys are being trained to repair and service tractors.

Apart from Kumar’s native Muzaffarnagar, Angad’s target customers are farmers from Assam, Orissa, Andhra Pradesh and West Bengal who together own less tractors than farmers from one district in Ludhiana. “Every pair of bullocks you see on the road is a luxury we cannot afford,” explains Kumar. “It’s making our farmers poorer by Rs 4,000 to Rs 5,000 a month.” The solution: Angad, which has found endorsement from Dehradun-based agrarian scientist Anil Prakash Joshi, who was part of Harmony’s Hotlist in January 2007 for bringing electricity to the Himalayan hinterland.

Rehman Rahi, 82, Srinagar

On 28 September 2007, when Rehman Rahi was presented the Jnanpeeth Award 2004, the poet was in his element, reciting poetry, exuding the joy of fulfilment. “The honour is recognition for Kashmiri and the people who speak the language,” he told Harmony on the blooming terrace-lawn of his house on the outskirts of Srinagar.

Rahi has not only composed great poetry but salvaged the language from the shadow of Persian and Urdu, which otherwise dominated the Valley’s literary scene. Rahi’s poetry also reflects the loss of peace in his homeland. “Fork-tongued dread slithers through the land, smothering us; Even loonies look for cover, in grave and silence,” Rahi writes in Siyah Rood Jaren Manz (In Black Vernal Showers, 1996), the book that earned him the Padmashri in 1999. In it he observes Kashmir’s tragedy as part of the eternally unfolding historical process.

Rahi’s panacea for his people is the mother tongue. “It (language) is the wellspring of a people’s unique outlook, sensibility and cultural orientation. Besides, it is the storehouse of the collective memory, which connects a community to its roots and helps it define itself.” He, however, bemoans the fact that Kashmiri has not been given the respect it deserves. “Except for a brief period in the 1950s, Kashmiri has never been a medium of instruction,” says Rahi. “This is dangerous. We are losing our own distinctive way of looking at the world, our myths and our story.”

Shirish Nadkarni, 57, Mumbai

“Forget badminton; you will be lucky to walk without a limp,” was Shirish Nadkarni’s orthopaedic surgeon’s grim prognosis in April 1985 when he saw the severity of the slipped disc in Nadkarni’s lower spine. And in 1994, arthroscopist Anant Joshi who also works with the Indian cricket team, told him to “drop badminton and switch to carrom, chess or billiards” after performing four operations on his knees. Turning a blind eye to these pronouncements, Nadkarni plays on with a vengeance, adding to his kitty of titles on the national and international badminton circuit. In 2007, he approached The Guinness Book of World Records for recognition as “the only person to win a world championship with a replaced knee in a sport requiring running”—the claim is being assessed.

Nadkarni calls himself an “above average player” in youth; he graduated from “gulli badminton” to the real thing, playing at the school, college, district and state levels. However, his winning streak started when he turned ‘veteran’ in 1995, winning the national doubles titles in the 45+ (1999), 50+ (2001 and 2002) and 55+ (2007) age categories. At the prestigious 2002 World Masters’ Games in Melbourne, he won three gold and two silver medals; followed by a gold and two silvers in the 2005 Games in Edmonton, Canada. Nadkarni has now set his sights on retaining his 55+ doubles title in the 2009 World Masters Games in Sydney.

Nadkarni can only compete in doubles events because of his medical history. He has gone under the surgeon’s knife 10 times—four arthroscopies to repair damaged cartilage and ligaments in both knees (between 1981 and 1992), a torn Achilles tendon (1994), tennis elbow with severe bursitis in the playing hand (2002), total knee replacement (2003); acute heart attack followed by balloon angioplasty and the placement of a stent (2005); and laser surgery in both eyes following several bouts of retinal bleeding (from 2003 to 2006). “The only part of my body untouched by a surgeon is the space between the two ears,” he says.