The retired Indian laborer who built a two million book library
Imran QureshiMandya District, Karnataka
Two million books, spread across a vast building, that anyone can borrow and read for free.
This is the wealth that Anke Gowda, a retired sugar factory worker in the southern Indian state of Karnataka, has accumulated over the past five decades.
The 79-year-old made headlines last month when he was awarded the Padma Shri – a civilian honor bestowed by the federal government – for his extraordinary contribution to promoting literacy and learning.
Gowda – whose staggering collection includes rare editions of the Bible, as well as books on every subject imaginable – came from a farming family where books were a luxury.
“I grew up in a village. We never had books to read, but I was always curious about them. I always thought I should read, collect books and gain knowledge,” he told the BBC.
Gowda Library is located in Pandavapura, a small municipality in Mandya district of Karnataka. It lacks the rigid organization usually associated with libraries. In fact, Gowda’s collection has no librarian and the books are stacked on shelves and piled on the floor in a haphazard manner.
Outside, under the library’s awnings, are bags filled with around 800,000 books, still waiting to be unpacked. The collection continues to grow, thanks to Gowda’s purchases and donations from others.
The place is frequented by students, their parents, teachers and book lovers. Regular visitors seem to know their way around the library and easily find the books they need. And even if they can’t, they say, Gowda can find anything.
Gowda, his wife and son live in a corner of the library, which is open every day of the week – and for long hours.
Gowda spent his childhood juggling school and helping his father with agricultural work. He often asked his parents and older sister for money to buy books.
When he started reading books about Indian freedom fighters and spiritual leaders, he was hooked.
“They were like candy,” he said.
Inspired by a teacher, he began building a small collection of books so that other students in rural areas could also read.
He often used the money his parents gave him for food to buy books.
Shortly after completing his studies, he began working as a bus driver.
One day, after about 10 months on the job, he met a former teacher who was shocked to learn that he had stopped studying. He insisted that Gowda resign and go to college.
Gowda followed his advice and completed a postgraduate diploma in Kannada (the official language of Karnataka), before joining the Pandavapura sugar factory as a timekeeper.
He spent two-thirds of his monthly salary on books and used the rest for groceries and other necessities.
“Wages were low back then, but prices were low too,” he says.
During the 33 years he worked at the factory, Gowda attended dozens of conferences of the Kannada Sahitya Parishat – a non-profit organization dedicated to the development of local language and literature – and often bought books from them at a discount.
He also increased his income by raising cows, selling milk and working as an insurance agent.
His next obstacle would be familiar to book lovers everywhere: finding a space to house his overflowing collection.
“I started keeping books in trunks [large metal boxes]. Then I installed shelves in my house. But at a certain point, there was no more room,” he says.
At the time, he had acquired around 50,000 books.
Help came when some of his friends met Hari Khoday, the late liquor baron who was building a temple in Pandavapura.
Khoday, Gowda recalls, could not believe that one man could own so many books.
“He came to see the books for himself. Then he asked me what I needed. I told him I didn’t want money for myself. My only request was that he build a library,” says Gowda.
Khoday agreed and paid for the construction of a huge building, which is now part of the vast Gowda Library spanning 15,800 square feet (1,467 m²).
A few years later, a local lawmaker took the then chief minister, HD Kumaraswamy, to see the library and he authorized funds for the construction of two more structures attached to the first one.
Today, students and teachers from across the state visit the library. Among them is Ravi Bettaswami, an assistant professor at a private college, who says he was also inspired to build a collection of thousands of books.
“I used Gowda library for studying and took my students there so they could read and also help organize the books,” he says.
Shilpashree Haranu, who teaches at a public university, says the collection may appear messy because it was not organized by a professional librarian.
“But he [Gowda] knows exactly where every book is and can tell you in an instant,” she says.
When asked why he never hired a librarian, Gowda replied that no one ever suggested that to him.
As for the future of the library, Gowda strikes a philosophical note, suggesting that it is now up to others to carry its legacy forward.
“I have fulfilled my responsibility. But I no longer have the energy. Maybe the government and the public can take over now?
“I did my best, now it’s up to others to decide.”