Photo by Iñaki del Olmo on Unsplash
In an era increasingly dominated by digital screens and fleeting attention spans, a quiet corner of rural Karnataka stands as a monumental testament to the enduring power of the printed word. Located in Haralahalli village, near Pandavapura in the Mandya district, sits Pustaka Mane, literally translating to "Book House". It is not a state-backed institution, nor is it the vanity project of a wealthy corporate billionaire. Instead, this sprawling, 16,000-square-foot sanctuary housing over two million (20 lakh) books is the life’s work of a singular, extraordinary individual, a 75-year-old Anke Gowda. Once a humble bus conductor, Gowda’s lifelong obsession with literature recently culminated in national recognition when the Government of India conferred upon him the prestigious Padma Shri under the "Unsung Heroes" category.
Humble Beginnings and a Lifelong Deficit
Born into a modest, struggling farming family in the small village of Chinakurli, Anke Gowda grew up during an era when books were an absolute luxury. In his childhood village, literacy was low, and access to reading material was virtually non-existent. As a student hungry for knowledge, Gowda often had to travel long distances, walking miles to Mysuru just to gain access to textbooks and quiet reading spaces. This early, profound deprivation left an indelible mark on his psyche. He understood firsthand what it meant to experience an intellectual hunger that could not be satisfied due to poverty and geographical isolation. He quietly resolved that future generations of rural children should never have to suffer the same intellectual starvation.
Gowda’s serious relationship with book collecting began around the age of twenty. To support his family, he took up various odd jobs, eventually finding employment as a public bus conductor. While issuing tickets and navigating the chaotic rural transport routes of Karnataka, he used every spare moment and every spare rupee to purchase books. A pivotal turning point occurred during his college years when he encountered a professor named K. Anantharamu at Maharaja’s College, Mysore, where Gowda later pursued a Master’s degree in Kannada literature. The professor famously advised his class that, "Never seek bribes, be good to your neighbors, and cultivate a good habit." For Gowda, that "good habit" became an absolute, unyielding addiction to books.
A Life of Singular Sacrifice
Following his stint as a bus conductor, Gowda secured a job as a timekeeper at the Pandavapura Cooperative Sugar Factory, a position he held for nearly thirty years. While his income was steady, it was modest. Yet, his commitment to his literary mission was unparalleled. It is estimated that Gowda consistently funneled approximately 80 percent of his monthly salary directly into the acquisition of books. When his wages fell short of his ambitions, he supplemented his income by taking up secondary employment, working as a Life Insurance Corporation (LIC) agent and rearing cows to sell milk in the village.
His passion soon outgrew the boundaries of conventional hobbyism and demanded deep personal sacrifices. As tens of thousands of books began to overwhelm his residence, stored in heavy metal trunks and stacked precariously along every wall, space became a critical crisis. In a definitive act of devotion to his cause, Gowda made the profound decision to sell his primary home in Mysuru. Every rupee generated from the sale was redirected entirely into purchasing land and constructing a structure capable of housing his ever-expanding collection. For Gowda, comfort and real estate investment pale in comparison to the preservation of human thought.
An Ocean of Knowledge in Rural Karnataka
Today, the structure funded in part by philanthropic support, most notably from the late industrialist Hari Khoday, stands as a breathtaking monument to human curiosity. The sheer diversity of Pustaka Mane is staggering. Rather than focusing on a singular genre, Gowda set out to map the entire spectrum of human knowledge. The library contains over 25,000 volumes dedicated exclusively to ancient Indian heritage, including the Vedas, Puranas, Upanishads, Mahabharata, and Ramayana, alongside extensive texts on Jainism, Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam.
Furthermore, the collection bridges the ancient and the modern. It features shelves laden with treatises on advanced medicine, engineering, agricultural science, psychology, philosophy, and history. It holds the complete works of Nobel laureates, seminal international thinkers, and thousands of children's books designed to foster literacy in young minds. Scholars and academics are particularly drawn to its rare holdings, which include nineteenth-century newspapers, historical journals, and nearly 5,000 specialized dictionaries. The library also features an unexpected archive, consisting of nearly 2,000 ancient coins from various nations, adding another layer of historical preservation to the site.
Living Among the Stacks
What makes Pustaka Mane profoundly moving is the lifestyle of its custodian. Anke Gowda does not simply manage the library; he and his family live entirely within its physical confines. Gowda, his wife Vijayalakshmi, and their son Sagar occupy a small, unadorned corner of the vast 16,000-square-foot building. Maintaining a lifestyle of ascetic simplicity, Gowda and his wife sleep on the floor amidst the towering rows of bookshelves and prepare their daily meals in a tiny alcove.
The operational philosophy of the library is strictly non-commercial. Gowda has spent decades rejecting highly lucrative offers from commercial entities and institutional buyers who wished to purchase his collection or turn it into a paid enterprise. Admission to Pustaka Mane is entirely free, and there are no membership dues, subscription fees, or bureaucratic barriers. Anyone from a local primary schoolchild to an aspiring Civil Services (UPSC) examinee, from a university researcher to a Supreme Court judge can walk past its doors, retrieve a book, and sit down to read. For Gowda, knowledge is a fundamental human right that must never be locked behind a paywall.
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