Wednesday, August 27, 2025

The Utopian Case of Tudu Hembram



Rethinking Talent Retention: The Utopian Case of Tudu Hembram

In the remote district of Purulia, among the Santhal tribe, I once met a boy named Tudu Hembram. I was introduced to him at Bhalopahar by the late philanthropist Kamal Chakraborty. At that time, he had just finished school and was repairing computers at a local shop. Yet, it was clear his mind was sharper than the hardware he worked on—his interest lay in the abstract beauty of software and mathematics.

Tudu had submitted some of his calculations online, and his ingenuity soon attracted the attention of a Bangalore startup. That is where his story takes an unusual turn, and one that made me reflect deeply.

Unlike most young professionals who chase salaries, savings, and possessions, Tudu followed a different model of existence. He did not draw a salary in the conventional sense. Instead, the company ensured that his family in Purulia was looked after—sending them monthly expenses and arranging medical support whenever needed. His personal requirements—whether food, clothing, or toiletries—were fulfilled through a custom app designed just for him, where he could simply click for his needs. He lived in a modest studio apartment equipped with cutting-edge computers, free from financial anxieties, with his only wealth being his knowledge.

This freedom allowed Tudu to focus entirely on his passion: finding economic ways to use AI. While most engineers are busy advancing AI systems, his goal was to democratize technology, creating simple solutions for small businesses—chatbots for individuals, smart tools for shopkeepers, and even the dream of one day bringing his own village “into the cloud” when satellite internet becomes universally available.

Despite his ascetic lifestyle, Tudu maintained a balance between mind and body, running 10 kilometers each morning to keep fit. His was a life of discipline, simplicity, and purpose.

History reminds us that this is not a new idea. Emperor Akbar maintained his famed Navaratnas—nine jewels of talent—at state expense, among them the legendary Tansen, whose music still echoes through centuries, and Birbal, whose wit and wisdom guided the emperor. Across civilizations, rulers understood that genius blooms only when freed from material burdens.

In ancient Greece, Plato’s Academy and later Aristotle’s Lyceum were supported by patrons who ensured philosophers could devote themselves to thought rather than livelihood. In Renaissance Italy, the Medici family sustained a galaxy of talents—Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Galileo—by providing them with security, resources, and freedom from financial anxieties. Their patronage birthed some of humanity’s greatest art, science, and philosophy.

The modern world, however, runs on different aspirations. The symbols of success today are big cars, larger houses, and foreign holidays. For a talented individual, the temptation to trade passion for possessions is ever-present. This eternal conflict between the needs of the body and the aspirations of the mind has never disappeared. To resist worldly goods and stick to one’s calling requires unusual inner strength—and equally unusual external support.

What struck me most in Tudu’s case was the company’s unconventional way of retaining him. By removing the burden of salary negotiations, financial planning, and family obligations, they gave him what every true thinker craves—freedom from worry. Many bright minds abandon high-pressure jobs to care for families or escape stress. This model seemed to offer a new path: one where the company assumes responsibility for life’s necessities, while the individual devotes himself fully to creation and problem-solving.

It reminded me of Japan, where young people increasingly choose a solitary lifestyle, avoiding the noise of society, yet deliver extraordinary results in their fields. Tudu’s life felt like an Indian echo of that philosophy: minimalism, focus, and brilliance.

The question that lingers is profound: Could this be the future of work? Instead of higher paychecks and perks, perhaps the real key to nurturing genius is designing ecosystems of trust, care, and freedom.


Afterthought: This story is a utopian thought experiment. No such company exists today—but perhaps it is an idea whose time will come.


7 comments:

G G Subhedar said...

This is an idea who's time will surely come... Thought provoking...

M Puri said...

Today one is in serious need of a rational utopia.. beyond the hype of regurgitated myths...belief and reason are both needed..

विजय जोशी said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
विजय जोशी said...

In my opinion this is the best model, which needs to be adopted by companies. Care and concern is the core strength of this philosophy. My heartfelt congratulations for opening up of a new model of management. Kind regards

samaranand's take said...

Thanks dear Subhedar,the company like Google in US is partially following this.

samaranand's take said...

Thanks Harsh, absolutely the dog eat dog meet environment need to go !

samaranand's take said...

Thanks dear Vijay,some of the IT companies have adopted this partially!