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Devkund
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
September 23, 2026
4 Stars
One Liner: Heartfelt and informative
Devkund is a collection of forty-one write-ups about kunds (ponds, water bodies) associated with temples, ashrams, and religious premises in Uttar Pradesh. The book takes readers on a short yet memorable ride across the state, showing how ecology, nature, religion, and human living were entwined and aligned. Sustainability wasn’t a modern catchphrase. It was a way of life, something we have forgotten over the years.
My Thoughts
A friend suggested that I check out this book, and the author kindly sent me a copy to read. As someone on my Indic journey, I recently learnt how my ancients used creative architectural designs and nature-aligned water conservation systems to ensure they had access to this natural resource throughout the year.
Example: https://youtu.be/wXnhbnggdx0
More Info: https://youtu.be/nWVxyys9f1k
Water conservation, sustainability, and ecological balance were integral to their lifestyle. Be it kingdoms that flourished alongside major rivers, the rishi ashrams dotted on the riverbanks, or the cities, towns, and villages that grew around water bodies, they understood that water wasn’t something we used, but it was the very basis of life. Our Vedas, Puranas, and Itihasas mention the importance of water in various stories.
It’s no surprise that temples had kunds (ponds and wells) managed by the priests and devotees. Down south, we call them Koneru (in Telugu). These are usually manmade and built in simple or elaborate stepwell designs for practical purposes. I’ve visited temples with koneru—some well maintained, some left to stagnation, and some dried up.
Thankfully, many individuals and organizations have started a cleaning drive to revive the kunds. The author, a State Youth Awardee, runs such campaigns and actively works on environmental protection, nature conservation, and reviving kunds in his region. He has been in this field for 8-10 years and personally visits the sites to find the best solutions.
This book compiles a list of forty-one known and lesser-known kunds in just one state: Uttar Pradesh, and this list is not exhaustive. Now imagine how many such water storage, rainwater harvesting, and conservation projects ancient India had across the land. The responsibility to maintain them was on all the locals. It wasn’t a one-person job ever. Designed for collective use, maintained by the community.
Moreover, the kunds were never limited to being water sources. They served a multi-layered purpose: to perform religious rituals, for spiritual practices, for festive gatherings on auspicious days, for farming and daily livelihood, and for animal/bird protection.
Most kunds were surrounded by traditional trees that live longer than humans. They stood firm, became a home for various birds and animals, and maintained temperatures. The kunds had aquatic animals, some of which also cleaned the base by eating algae, etc.
The book briefly explores each of the forty-one kunds, their location, significance, challenges, and such. When you look at the names, you will also notice how nature has been integral to our lives. More than three kunds are associated with Surya, the sun.
The detailing is to the point but highlights common themes: how religion and nature were always entwined until we forgot what it stood for. When I mentioned this brevity, he replied that readers want information and not gyan (preaching), so he wanted to stick to the intent without overdoing it.
We were not meant to dip in the kunds and litter around them. We were not meant to act mightier than nature. We were not meant to show disdain for someone’s belief that the waters would heal them.
Yet, we lost our way and our priorities. The book doesn’t ask you to visit those places to make dancing reels or beautify your social feed. It asks you to understand the purpose of the kund and your existence, to see what you can do to revive what’s lost instead of destroying it further.
The editing could have been better, and the author admitted that he handed over the manuscript to someone he knew, but also didn’t want it to be extensively edited. He also agreed that it could have been better. I had to ask about the AI cover and the potential use of AI for editing. The author said he isn’t sure about the editing, but he found out about the cover when it had already gone to print. That’s why he had a new non-AI cover designed and will soon get that version printed.
To summarize, Devkund is a heartfelt appeal for people to respect ancient knowledge, understand the importance of water, and do our bit to protect the temple kunds/ponds. There are a few B&W images of some kunds as well as the author with his team on-site.
My thanks to the author for the copy of the book. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinions.
One Liner: Heartfelt and informative
Devkund is a collection of forty-one write-ups about kunds (ponds, water bodies) associated with temples, ashrams, and religious premises in Uttar Pradesh. The book takes readers on a short yet memorable ride across the state, showing how ecology, nature, religion, and human living were entwined and aligned. Sustainability wasn’t a modern catchphrase. It was a way of life, something we have forgotten over the years.
My Thoughts
A friend suggested that I check out this book, and the author kindly sent me a copy to read. As someone on my Indic journey, I recently learnt how my ancients used creative architectural designs and nature-aligned water conservation systems to ensure they had access to this natural resource throughout the year.
Example: https://youtu.be/wXnhbnggdx0
More Info: https://youtu.be/nWVxyys9f1k
Water conservation, sustainability, and ecological balance were integral to their lifestyle. Be it kingdoms that flourished alongside major rivers, the rishi ashrams dotted on the riverbanks, or the cities, towns, and villages that grew around water bodies, they understood that water wasn’t something we used, but it was the very basis of life. Our Vedas, Puranas, and Itihasas mention the importance of water in various stories.
It’s no surprise that temples had kunds (ponds and wells) managed by the priests and devotees. Down south, we call them Koneru (in Telugu). These are usually manmade and built in simple or elaborate stepwell designs for practical purposes. I’ve visited temples with koneru—some well maintained, some left to stagnation, and some dried up.
Thankfully, many individuals and organizations have started a cleaning drive to revive the kunds. The author, a State Youth Awardee, runs such campaigns and actively works on environmental protection, nature conservation, and reviving kunds in his region. He has been in this field for 8-10 years and personally visits the sites to find the best solutions.
This book compiles a list of forty-one known and lesser-known kunds in just one state: Uttar Pradesh, and this list is not exhaustive. Now imagine how many such water storage, rainwater harvesting, and conservation projects ancient India had across the land. The responsibility to maintain them was on all the locals. It wasn’t a one-person job ever. Designed for collective use, maintained by the community.
Moreover, the kunds were never limited to being water sources. They served a multi-layered purpose: to perform religious rituals, for spiritual practices, for festive gatherings on auspicious days, for farming and daily livelihood, and for animal/bird protection.
Most kunds were surrounded by traditional trees that live longer than humans. They stood firm, became a home for various birds and animals, and maintained temperatures. The kunds had aquatic animals, some of which also cleaned the base by eating algae, etc.
The book briefly explores each of the forty-one kunds, their location, significance, challenges, and such. When you look at the names, you will also notice how nature has been integral to our lives. More than three kunds are associated with Surya, the sun.
The detailing is to the point but highlights common themes: how religion and nature were always entwined until we forgot what it stood for. When I mentioned this brevity, he replied that readers want information and not gyan (preaching), so he wanted to stick to the intent without overdoing it.
We were not meant to dip in the kunds and litter around them. We were not meant to act mightier than nature. We were not meant to show disdain for someone’s belief that the waters would heal them.
Yet, we lost our way and our priorities. The book doesn’t ask you to visit those places to make dancing reels or beautify your social feed. It asks you to understand the purpose of the kund and your existence, to see what you can do to revive what’s lost instead of destroying it further.
The editing could have been better, and the author admitted that he handed over the manuscript to someone he knew, but also didn’t want it to be extensively edited. He also agreed that it could have been better. I had to ask about the AI cover and the potential use of AI for editing. The author said he isn’t sure about the editing, but he found out about the cover when it had already gone to print. That’s why he had a new non-AI cover designed and will soon get that version printed.
To summarize, Devkund is a heartfelt appeal for people to respect ancient knowledge, understand the importance of water, and do our bit to protect the temple kunds/ponds. There are a few B&W images of some kunds as well as the author with his team on-site.
My thanks to the author for the copy of the book. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinions.
September 17, 2026
Having been born and brought up in Uttar Pradesh, I have always felt that our relationship with water goes far beyond its physical presence. Our ponds, rivers and kunds are woven into our cultural, spiritual and environmental heritage. That is perhaps why Devkund resonated with me so deeply.
And perhaps the best time to read this book was while it was actually raining in Kanpur. The sound of rain outside seemed to become a part of the book itself.
In the preface, the author invokes the beautiful words “आपः स्वस्ति नः भवन्तु” — May the waters be auspicious to us. That simple line stayed with me.
The book took me back to Nageshwar Dham in Panki, Kanpur, a place I have often visited to find little peace. Its pond, home to nearly 150 softshell turtles, is not just a water body, but a living ecosystem where devotion seems to meet the quiet rhythm of nature.
What moved me most was the author’s own effort to investigate these ponds, understand their natural systems and work towards their revival and preservation. Devkund made me look at familiar places differently, to see a pond as a keeper of memory, faith, biodiversity and life.
And perhaps the thought that stayed with me most: like these still waters, we too are meant to reflect, to cleanse, and to flow.
Reading this book in the rain, in my own city, made those words feel even more personal. Sometimes, the places we pass every day hold stories much deeper than we realise. We only need to pause long enough to listen. 🌿💧
And perhaps the best time to read this book was while it was actually raining in Kanpur. The sound of rain outside seemed to become a part of the book itself.
In the preface, the author invokes the beautiful words “आपः स्वस्ति नः भवन्तु” — May the waters be auspicious to us. That simple line stayed with me.
The book took me back to Nageshwar Dham in Panki, Kanpur, a place I have often visited to find little peace. Its pond, home to nearly 150 softshell turtles, is not just a water body, but a living ecosystem where devotion seems to meet the quiet rhythm of nature.
What moved me most was the author’s own effort to investigate these ponds, understand their natural systems and work towards their revival and preservation. Devkund made me look at familiar places differently, to see a pond as a keeper of memory, faith, biodiversity and life.
And perhaps the thought that stayed with me most: like these still waters, we too are meant to reflect, to cleanse, and to flow.
Reading this book in the rain, in my own city, made those words feel even more personal. Sometimes, the places we pass every day hold stories much deeper than we realise. We only need to pause long enough to listen. 🌿💧
August 19, 2026
This book is highly recommended for environmental enthusiasts, researchers, students, young people, and anyone who cares about nature, environmental conservation, and water preservation. It is an informative and insightful work that offers valuable knowledge about our natural environment, precious resources, and the rich natural and cultural heritage of our country.
August 6, 2026
In Devkund, environmentalist Sundram Tiwari brilliantly unveils the spiritual core of Sanatan Dharma by treating nature not as a resource, but as a living deity. The narrative treats water conservation as a sacred duty (dharma), reflecting the ancient belief that Ganga descended to Earth only after generations of deep prayer. By linking environmentalism directly to the Sri Kashi Vishwanath traditions, the book illustrates that protecting water sources is a form of continuous cosmic worship.
The story anchors its message in local folklore, highlighting how communities historically acted as the true custodians of their ecosystems. A striking example from the lore describes a mystical phenomenon where sacred vessels and utensils would miraculously emerge from the Kund (pond) during auspicious village ceremonies. This vivid imagery reinforces the scriptural idea that nature actively responds to human reverence and purity of intent.
Beneath the physical landscapes lies the mystical, unknown depths of Devkund, a plunge pool whose true bottom remains an unsolved mystery to this day. The author builds an eerie, meditative atmosphere where the fragrance of ancient turmeric fills the air and dense jungles hide centuries-old secrets. This unseen, bottomless nature of the water body serves as a powerful metaphor for the infinite, unmanifested reality (Brahman) core to Sanatan Dharma
The story anchors its message in local folklore, highlighting how communities historically acted as the true custodians of their ecosystems. A striking example from the lore describes a mystical phenomenon where sacred vessels and utensils would miraculously emerge from the Kund (pond) during auspicious village ceremonies. This vivid imagery reinforces the scriptural idea that nature actively responds to human reverence and purity of intent.
Beneath the physical landscapes lies the mystical, unknown depths of Devkund, a plunge pool whose true bottom remains an unsolved mystery to this day. The author builds an eerie, meditative atmosphere where the fragrance of ancient turmeric fills the air and dense jungles hide centuries-old secrets. This unseen, bottomless nature of the water body serves as a powerful metaphor for the infinite, unmanifested reality (Brahman) core to Sanatan Dharma
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews