He runs no NGO, has built no check dams nor leads any community development. Among GoodNewsIndia's little known heroes, he is even less known, unknown even except in the neighbourhood of Mori Road, Mahim, Mumbai. He is 84.

Devkishan Lakhiani is portrayed here because he can be a role model for many of us who say we'd do something for India, soon as we have saved enough or our children are settled or our career has stabilised or we have retired or whatever else. Lakhiani -affectionately, 'Dada' to everyone- shows you can do something right now. He runs a free homeopathy clinic, and until a few years ago taught at the nearby school and offered legal counsel to the poor. He has done that 'something' throughout his life.

He is a man of few words and has no complaints or grouses or advise. He's busy the whole day. His is a perfect world.

Bomb maker's apprentice:

Dada was raised in Karachi in a large family of six boys. His father was a rice processor. He probably went through some casual schooling and worked for the family business.

When about 25, he found himself in the company of Master Jethanand, who believed in scaring the British out of India with bombs. Deeply nationalistic, young Devkishan became his acolyte. It is doubtful if they were serious arsonists. "We did not intend killing anyone; just terrorise them," says Dada. With such a fuzzy agenda in mind, the motley group flung a bomb, not at, but in front of a British building in Pinjrapara. They then ran in all directions. Dada was not as fleet as the Master and so was caught and imprisoned for three and a half years.

When he came out, the British were preparing to leave India, least of all due to any violence they feared from the Master or Dada. But the Lakhiani family faced true violence in Karachi. An extended family of 20 moved to Mumbai, then Bombay.

Resettling the mind:

The trauma of resettling in refugee camps, starting life again began to change the young man. He doesn't say explicitly, but at some point then, he decided not to marry. There was work at hand. Looking for business opportunities to feed his family, helping refugees, teaching children and so on. He got sucked in.

What or who changed him is difficult to tell, for the man himself is not given to expounding on his inner life. His bookshelf is lined with Gandhi books but also on Guru Nanak and an eclectic clutch of spiritual leaders. On the wall are portraits of Ramakrishna, Ramana, Aurobindo, Sufi masters, J Krishnamurthy and several others. Prominently, Nawabhai, his mother.

The strong woman's selfless work for the family and her grit seems to have deeply influenced Dada. Some years after, the family left the refugee camp for a proper home, a single room in Chowpatty for 20 members. From here, as their small business picked up, they moved to a proper apartment in Mahim, in the 1960.

It is not easy cope with so much in 20 years: rage, imprisonment, displacement, penury and renewal. Millions have however gone through hardship caused by the Partition and have moved on. Not many have retained a robust appetite for serving those in need. Dada has.

Doing the little things:

There was the logistics of settling waves of Sindhi refugees in Kalyan, Kurla and Palghar camps. He began to teach and administer a school for children. Not surprisingly, widows were everywhere in fifties. Dada began a subscription fund to distribute small sums for their maintenance.

There was the family livelihood to look after as well. Several partners pooled their modest savings and began a lending consortium. This is a business that suits the Sindhi native genius. This business model spreads risk. Family fortune began to smile. In the seventies they also began an auto-parts factory in Agra.

As soon as he had the sizable sum of Rs 2 lakhs as his share, Dada the bachelor, used it to create the Nawabhai Khimandas Lakhiani Charitable Trust. He lives a frugal life and invests shrewdly and so has been able to make this fund go a long way.

In 1987, he met Dr Khilnani who cured him of stones in the kidney using homeopathy. Struck by its cost effectiveness, Dada used his Trust funds to start the Hari Om Free Clinic in an apartment he owns. He doesn't stay there though- he lives with his nephew, as a member of the extended Lakhiani family.

'Free' should mean free:

Three visiting homeopathy doctors -who are paid small honorariums- visit it in turns daily between 9 and 11 am. He won't accept any payment, not even voluntary donation. "Free means free". He says the modest corpus is more than enough for the purpose.

"Oh, he is amazing", says Dr.Mansur, the only male homeopathic doctor out of the three who work here. "He is very knowledgeable; brings in promptly the medicines we ask for. He knows the ones tried before, all about potencies and so on. It feels good to be able to come to this free clinic once a week and treat people". Dr.Urvi Vakharia, who comes in twice a week says, "I have worked in some other clinics, but there is no proper handling of records, medicines are not available; but here, it is very ordered, which I think is because of Dadaji here. He's extremely fastidious".

Sometime in the seventies, the redoubtable Master Jethanand resurfaced in Agra, with no bombs in his thoughts. He was now the manager of the 250 bed Sundarani Charitable Eye Hospital. The old mates met every year, until the Master passed away a few years ago. Dada deputed at his bidding, a nephew to take active part in the hospital's activities.

A day in the life of:

Dada keeps on going, maintaining a punishing pace. His day begins at 5 am. Following a walk, he opens the doors of the clinic, tidies up, brings out the trays of medicine bottles from the cupboards, arranges chairs and adjusts an awry picture or two on the wall. He is present till the doctor leaves, puts away the things and then locks up.

After a quick lunch, he takes a crowded train to Churchgate and from there walks the 2 km to his office at Gunbore Street. He pores over details of management and accounts. He returns home at 7 pm. He has no car. Every Saturday, he takes the train to Prince's Street in Marine Lines to replenish homeopathic supplies.

Adjacent to his home is a small temple he has built for Guru Nanak to whom he is devoted. Often, there is a gathering at home of neighbours for a satsang or discussions. He has made his will, reduced his wants to a minimum and the clutter in his head to nothing. After all, he watches the TV for just two news bulletins from Doordarshan. He walks to most places, wears only khadi, and quietly states the importance of Gandhi. He is entitled to a freedom fighter's pension, but refuses to claim it saying he doesn't need it. He travels only second class, paying for it, though he is entitled to passes. He is a gritty old man.

His growing, admiring family worries about his hectic life. But it has no control over him. Dada is a bit of an eccentric tyrant, who will brook no delays or sloppiness. His nephew Sunil, now abroad, feels Dada's pull from afar. He explains: "I read in school about the Indian concept that we all bear three debts ["Ryn", in Hindi]: Matri [of Mother], Pitr [of Father] and Guru [of teacher]. To be truly free of these debts in your lifetime, you have to be one of the two: parent or teacher. I think Dada, a bachelor, takes commitment to others quite seriously, but without words or any consciousness."

That is all there is to the life of Dada Devkishan Lakhiani. No drama, no disciples, no teachings, no headlines, no expectations. Luckily for India, he is not unique. There are thousands like him keeping the society positively disposed towards the future. Look around you in your neighbourhood- you will probably find one.

These simpletons don't read detailed analyses, make speeches or rile against the ills around them. They doggedly do what they can. It is they who will enable the meek to inherit India.

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Devkishan Lakhiani
c/o Arvind Lakhiani
17/4, Navjivan Colony
Mori Road, Mumbai- 400016
Tel : 022-56662396, 98212 21216
email: [Dada's grand-nephew Sunil Lakhiani]
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This story was made possible by interviews, field reports research and photographs by Shruti Parthasarathy [ ]
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September, 2004