In Memoriam

In Memory of Uma Lele

NaadRang lost a cherished friend and supporter in UmaTai. What follows are two remembrances of the same remarkable woman. First, a tribute from her longtime colleague and friend, Chandrashekhar G. Ranade. Then a few words from us about the UmaTai we came to know.

by Chandrashekhar G. Ranade

I attended a memorial service for Uma Lele on October 11, 2025 at the Cosmos Club in Washington, D.C. It was a profoundly moving gathering, filled with colleagues and friends whose lives had been touched by her brilliance and generosity. As I sat among them, memories of my own association with Uma came rushing back, reminding me of how deeply she influenced my journey and how enduring her legacy remains.

Uma Lele was a towering figure in Agricultural Economics. At just twenty years old, she crossed oceans to pursue a Ph.D. in Economics in 1961, first at the University of Chicago and later at Cornell University. In a field dominated by men, she stood as the first woman to break through, carrying not only her intellect but also her courage and determination. Her presence was a beacon for those of us who sought to follow paths that seemed impossible.

I first met Uma on June 10, 1971, at the Gokhale Institute in Pune. I still recall that afternoon vividly: the Registrar called me into his office and introduced me to her. Though she was only thirty, I addressed her with respect as Dr. Mrs. Lele, in keeping with academic tradition. She shared with me an idea that was both ambitious and inspiring. She had written a research paper on the importance of agriculture for the economic growth of India and other poor countries, and she wanted it transformed into a mathematical model. I was excited to get the opportunity on mathematical models in which I was trained at the Indian Statistical Institute in Calcutta. However, I confessed my lack of knowledge in agriculture, but she reassured me with warmth and confidence, promising to guide me. That moment was the beginning of a collaboration that would shape my life.

When she left Pune in August to join the World Bank in Washington, D.C., she encouraged me to apply to Cornell for a Ph.D. Her faith in me opened doors I had never imagined: I was admitted in the Department of Agriculture Economics at Cornell with full tuition paid and a generous research assistantship, which even allowed me to send support home to my mother in Pune. Later, while visiting Washington from Ithaca, I would meet Uma in her impressive office, never realizing that one day I would work alongside her at the World Bank. From 1983 onward, I had the privilege of contributing to her ambitious projects, building mathematical models with multivariate calculus as their foundation. Her vision was vast, and her trust in me gave my work meaning.

Over time, Uma's stature only grew. In 2020, she was elected President of the International Agricultural Economics Association, a recognition of her lifelong dedication. Yet even this honor seemed insufficient. I recall a conversation with Nobel laureate Theodore Schultz at the University of Chicago, who told me that Uma's groundbreaking work on foodgrain marketing in India deserved far greater recognition. Her study of jowar marketing in Solapur was, in his words, worthy of awards that never came.

Today, as I continue to teach calculus in high school, I carry Uma's influence with me. Each time I guide a student through the elegance of mathematics, I silently thank her for the opportunities she gave me, for the confidence she instilled, and for the lifelong companionship of ideas she nurtured. Uma was more than a scholar; she was a mentor, a pioneer, and a friend. Her memory is not only preserved in institutions and publications but also in the lives she touched, including mine. For that, I remain forever grateful.

Remembering UmaTai

by Abhi Patwardhan, NaadRang

The Uma that Chander knew was the same Uma we came to know at NaadRang. The one who would not take no for an answer. The one who set a high standard and expected the rest of us to reach it. The one who kept opening doors for other people.

She had one question for us. Why could we not broadcast our concerts? So many people wanted to listen and could not be in the room. Some lived too far away. Some could no longer travel. She did not see why the music had to stop at the door of the hall.

For a whole year, I said no. Not because she was wrong, but because of the sound. The easy way to broadcast was over Zoom, and Zoom degrades the audio. For classical music, that is not a small thing. The fine detail is the sound. I was not willing to send our artists out into the world sounding thin and diminished.

She did not let it go. The next year she came back with a sharper question. Not why, but how. How could we do this and still keep the audio at full quality? That question was the right one, and it moved us.

It sent us to our professional audio partner, Sweetwater, to work out how it could truly be done. The answer was hardware. Proper transcoders that could carry the sound out to the world without wearing it down. And in 2023, UmaTai made a donation to bring that equipment in.

That is how our concerts began to travel. Not thin, not compromised, but in full and honest sound. Because of her, a person who cannot be in the hall can still hear every phrase the way the artist meant it. That is exactly what she had been asking for all along.

We had planned to catch up at her home and talk more. That visit never happened. Life stayed busy for both of us, and then the time was gone. I learned of her passing from Chanderji in Florida, who wrote the tribute above and kindly gave us permission to share it here.

Chander wrote that her faith opened doors he had never imagined. She did the same for us, and for everyone who now listens from far away. We will always be grateful. Each time a concert reaches a home beyond the hall, in the sound it deserves, a part of UmaTai is with us still.

With gratitude,
Abhi Patwardhan
NaadRang