True Son Of Soil, Farmer Bhat Poem by narayana aghalaya

Mr.Bhat, True Son of Soil
-
etched in our minds is a short rural stay
to adjust where, it took us just a day
rural life is hard; one soon learns to cope
like sporadic power, one lives on hope
basic bathrooms and toilets are style free;
but missing the woods, why be lost on trees?
the plantation, to die for, is outside
from amazing scenery, none can hide
clean, fresh air; no traffic; no noise; no smog
fertile land; healthy plants; none seems to slog
betelnut, coconut, jackfruit, palm trees
acres of greenery, to roam feel free
add a few lush acres of paddy fields
that Mister Bhat himself tills, for good yields
'God helps those who help themselves', with this cue
Mister Bhat sticks to his task, as if glued
for five decades plus he toiled on this land
sheer labour of love through his tireless hands
he has some cows, also a buffalo
'milk for us and more', the wife with pride glows
family of three live on the property
husband, wife and a son about thirty
a Rottweiler too to give company
it is two years old and frightens many
Mr.Bhat is old but hyperactive
rarely talks, just works, guests irrespective
wife tells: ' by nature he is reticent;
speaks with cows and dogs, not people present.'
he takes us out on a tour of the farm
the trees, under his care are out of harm
amidst the trees he gets eloquent
pleasure to see him in his elements
he earns just enough for the family
with farmers' plight, all concerned, dilly-dally
lands, an inheritance from grandfather
a court case dragged and caused him much bother
nature plays havoc with economics
markets too put farmers in a pickle
Mister Bhat is from conservative school
injecting much finance, he thinks, isn't cool
he has done his job to protect his land
to adapt to new trends, is in son's hands
of modest means, Bhats were courteous hosts
of them in our thoughts, we are often lost
to live close to nature, urbanites dream
when it is real, their happy faces, beam
-