
Gangapuram Venkata Ramana
Forever in our hearts
Our Story
A life full of ironies. Once-in-a-million ups and downs. A man who was born with everything, lost everything, rebuilt from nothing, gave everything — and whose heart finally stopped the moment he knew his family would be okay.
His father — GP Pushottam Rao (GP Rao) — was a wealthy, brilliant lawyer from Osmania University. Extremely modern. Extremely intelligent. Known for his command over language and law. The Gangapuram family name was synonymous with wealth — thousands of acres of land, kilograms of gold, a legacy of stature.
His mother was the elder daughter of another formidable lawyer — a scholar in multiple languages with a deep command over religious texts. Her father was the village Sarpanch for 30 years, known simply as “Vakil Saab.” He rode a car in the 1960s — one of only two cars in the entire district.
Gangapuram Venkata Ramana was the first son. Born with a golden spoon.
Since Vakil Saab had no sons, GP Rao shifted to Tandur to take care of his in-laws' estate. He left law — took on various jobs but never settled into any of them. He could have retired as an IAS officer, had he stayed in any one position.
But things went off track. Passion in life dwindled. Lifestyle caught up with the family.
As my grandfather once told me — the first piece of advice he gave after I got my first job:
“We never knew how to manage finances well. Not the extended family — our immediate family chain.”
By the time GVR turned 20, the wealth was gone. The family was living off whatever was left to sell.
He loved biology. Could have become a doctor. But he needed to start earning immediately. So he studied CEC — Civics, Economics, Commerce — and looked for the fastest path to supporting the family.
He mastered mathematics and started giving tuitions. Before long, he was the best-known tutor in the area. His teaching style earned him a name: Venkanna Panthulu.
This was not a common honor. As my grandmother once reflected — she was first known by her father's name, then by her husband's. But almost immediately, she became known as his mother. That's how quickly his reputation grew.
He had a unique style and approach. He didn't teach only the best students — he taught everyone. Literally everyone in the village was his student. The house started filling with students who came to learn. He co-founded Vidya Bharathi — a very successful school in the district.
Education was his calling. Not as a career — as a way of life.
He married Madhavi in 1990. She came from a family whose grandfather had once been a royal clerk to the Scindias in Gwalior. Same story — wealth once, then new beginnings. Two people who understood what it meant to rebuild.
GVR got a government teaching position in 1998. It took him away from mass tutoring — he was posted in remote villages. But it brought him new loyal friends. And the student community he had already built continued to thrive. It came to be known as Vidya Bharathi Balagam — a devoted network of students who considered him not just a teacher, but a father figure.
In his own words to his son:
“I inherited a lot of debts. At some point, your mother had to sell her gold. From every street, almost every stop — there was a debt. I hope I will not leave you anything like this.”
The debts were never-ending. Inherited obligations. Family responsibilities. A system where the most generous man in the village was also the most indebted — because he could never say no.
Already drowning in debt, GVR made a decision: his children's education comes first. He moved the family to Bellampalli — specifically to Vani Nikethan High School, one of the most renowned schools in the district. More debt. But his all-time friend Radhakishan helped.
The children's experience at school was its own story. Fees often went unpaid. Before final exams, they were sometimes asked to stand outside. They were not alone in this group — many families struggled the same way.
To put things in perspective: school fees in Tandur were ₹60 per month — about ₹3,000 per year. In Bellampalli, it was ₹6,000 per year. But for intermediate education, it jumped to ₹60,000 — a 10x increase.
Suggestions came from everywhere: just let the children study in Bellampalli. But Madhavi stepped in. She arranged money at 2% monthly interest. Both parents wanted to give their children what they themselves had missed — at any cost.
Every middle-class Indian family knows this story.
If intermediate was ₹60,000, engineering was worse: ₹35,000 in fees plus ₹4,000–5,000 per month in expenses — another 2x jump. Again, his wife arranged loans. This time at 3% monthly interest.
Come third year, the son wanted to write GATE — he wasn't satisfied with his college. He decided he wasn't interested in ECE and wanted to pursue CSE. Then came GRE — hell-bent on going to the USA.
But how? Two problems: GVR didn't want his son to leave the country. And they couldn't afford it. He ended up convincing his son to drop the plan after GRE, before TOEFL.
The son got a job a month after dropping the US plan. Started working in Chennai, then Pune. But the financial support wasn't enough — Cognizant paid ₹20,000 per month. Not enough to service more than ₹15 lakh in education debt with compounding interest.
The pressure to pay back started the moment the son got his first paycheck.
Eight months into the job, the son got inspired by the Collector of Adilabad district — Ahmed Babu — and wanted to pursue IAS. The lackluster corporate job wasn't fulfilling enough.
He dropped the bombshell: he wanted to quit. GVR convinced him to wait — the Telangana salary increments would help offset the financial gap.
The son broke his provident fund. Took more loans against his increased salary. He cleared Mains, reached the interview stage twice.
And here — even though it was imperative to give safe, standardized attempts because of the cost of each one — GVR allowed his son to follow his own style. No standard preparation playbook. Attempts with consulting work in between. Never forcing him to leave his passion for software.
That was who GVR was. He didn't impose his methods. He supported your methods.
A good match came along. The son wasn't ready yet, but GVR wanted to get Sneha married while good matches were available. The son took on more debt on behalf of his father — becoming a guarantor at 2% monthly interest.
The debts had compounded to a staggering level. Monthly interest alone was nearly ₹1 lakh.
Then the son joined a proper job. And cleared the entire debt in the next two years — almost ₹40 lakh including interest.
Finally — for the first time in the family's entire history — by 2022, everyone was debt-free. Things started becoming good. Life was going good.
The son married in May 2022. A new chapter began — with problems of its own. After the marriage, things seemed promising. But six months in, the son took a sabbatical, shifted to Hyderabad, and things started going off track.
GVR took unpaid leave from his government position to support his son through the matrimonial crisis. What followed was extreme pressure from society — lies, dramas, daily confrontations, threats, blackmails, extortion attempts.
On top of this: pressure to attend school in between, financial burden from the headmaster's position, and personal vendetta from department officials.
For his son's matrimonial issues, GVR started meeting his former students in law enforcement and legal practice. Working alongside his cousin brother Prashanth. Galvanizing support in the community for his cause. Calling people for hours — explaining, defending, protecting.
A grandson arrived. Joy started coming back. A new chapter was beginning.
GVR played with his grandson. The smile was returning.
The divorce hearing finally came. The smoke screen of blackmail — “if divorce is given, she will commit suicide” — all the drama and pressure to extort alimony — was lifted when the tantrums collapsed and defamation in reverse started.
January 27, 2024. The truth was finally visible.
GVR gave his son strength and hope. Sent him back to Bangalore to start a new chapter.
Then he went to Mancherial to attend school — he was due to retire in March, the next month. He started preparing for the grandson's naming ceremony. He wanted one good thing to happen — the entire family together, celebrating.
But what he had seen in court had broken his heart. What happened to his son. The pressure. The blame. It all took a toll.
He traveled to Hyderabad to be with the family.
He spent his final week calling everyone — to attend the second hearing, to support his son, to make sure they attend the naming ceremony. Calling each and every person. Speaking to them one by one.
On the morning of February 12th, his heart suddenly stopped. Swargasthi.
He had fulfilled his duty. He had gotten his son out of harm's way. He had played with his grandson. He had called everyone he loved.
He gave them wings. And I often say — he would have been happy within two years seeing the family back on its feet. But inspired by his effort, we make sure it never happens to anyone else.
His son decided to honor the values of equity GVR had lived by. As a technologist, he made his mission AIQuity Life — and committed to a pledge:
99.9999999% of every penny earned from the venture goes to the GVR Unity Foundation and its cause.
As GVR used to say:
“Sarve Jana Sukhino Bhavantu”
~1965
First son of GP Pushottam Rao. Family name synonymous with wealth.
~1985
Studied CEC. Started earning immediately.
Late 1980s
Mastered mathematics. Co-founded Vidya Bharathi school.
1990
Two people who understood what it meant to rebuild.
1992–1996
Born into inherited debts.
1998
Posted in remote villages. Vidya Bharathi Balagam thrives.
2000s
Moved to Bellampalli. Fees 10x. Madhavi arranges loans at 2–3%.
~2010–2018
Cognizant → IAS → daughter's marriage. Peak: ₹1L/month interest. Debt-free by 2022.
2023
Unpaid leave. Lies, threats, blackmails. Called people for hours — defending.
Late 2023
Joy returns. The smile was coming back.
Jan 27, 2024
Sends son to Bangalore. Prepares naming ceremony.
Feb 12, 2024
Heart stops. He had fulfilled his duty.
Sept 2024
99.9999999% pledge. Sarve Jana Sukhino Bhavantu.
Every person who benefits from AIQuity Life, every family that finds support through the Foundation — they become part of this story. His legacy lives on in the impact we create together.