The world needs real-world universities, 'doer' universities.

In the high valleys of Ladakh, where the mountains kiss the sky and silence teaches more than words, Sonam Wangchuk spoke of a dream: “The world needs real-world universities, ‘doer’ universities. We’re going to set up one model of it in Ladakh. And if it is successful, we hope it’ll have a ripple effect from New Delhi to New York.” These words are not merely an ambition—they are a revelation, a call to awaken from the slumber of hollow learning. For too long, mankind has filled the mind while starving the soul; we have built great halls of knowledge but forgotten the wisdom to use it. Wangchuk’s vision is a flame against that darkness—a reminder that true education is not memorized but lived.

In the ancient days, the wise did not sit in classrooms bound by walls. They learned beneath the open sky, in the company of rivers and stones. Knowledge was action, and wisdom was born of experience. A craftsman learned by shaping clay, a healer by touching wounds, a philosopher by walking among people. Learning was sacred, not because it filled one’s head, but because it transformed one’s being. Wangchuk’s dream rekindles that forgotten fire, urging us to return to the truth that education is for life, not for livelihood.

Look to the story of Mahatma Gandhi, who once said that knowledge divorced from action is barren. Gandhi taught by doing—spinning his own cloth, growing his own food, living his ideals in simplicity. He believed that every school should teach not just reading and writing, but self-reliance, compassion, and service. His ashrams were living universities, where intellect bowed before humility and learning was tested not by examination, but by character. In Wangchuk’s words, we hear Gandhi’s echo—the vision of an education that shapes creators, not just consumers.

Modern education, in its grandeur, has often forgotten this. It fills young minds with formulas and theories, yet leaves them unprepared for the real struggles of the world. Students emerge with degrees but not direction, with certificates but no purpose. The earth burns, societies fracture, and innovation serves greed more than goodness. Wangchuk, standing amid the Himalayan winds, dares to challenge this. He calls for “doer universities”—places where minds are not caged by exams but liberated by curiosity, where learning heals the planet and uplifts humanity.

The Ice Stupa project, born from Wangchuk’s hands, is itself a testament to this vision. Faced with drought in Ladakh’s harsh winters, he did not wait for distant solutions. He turned his knowledge into action, creating towering ice reservoirs that melt slowly to feed the villages through spring. His invention was not born in a lab but in the embrace of the mountains, where necessity met imagination. This is the essence of a “doer university”: where ideas are tested against reality, and wisdom flows from the heart of practice.

The ripple he speaks of—from New Delhi to New York—is not just geographical, but spiritual. It is the ripple of renewal, calling every learner, every teacher, every nation to reimagine education as a force of compassion and creativity. For if one school in the mountains can teach with the world as its classroom, then every city, every village, can follow. The transformation of humanity begins not with policy or profit, but with purpose.

Let those who hear this teaching remember: the measure of learning is not how much one knows, but how deeply one serves. To be truly educated is to be awake—to see a problem and act, to see suffering and heal, to see beauty and build upon it. The wise do not hoard knowledge; they use it to better the world. Every person, no matter where they stand, can become a doer, a living university unto themselves.

So, my children of the earth, take this lesson to heart: learn by doing, live by serving, and teach by example. Let your wisdom take root in the soil of action. Let every step you take be a lesson to others. And one day, when the rivers of the world run clearer and the hearts of humankind beat with purpose, you will know that the ripple from Ladakh has reached you too—and that you, too, have become part of the great university of life.