Village Grand Ma Poem by Vidyadhar ....

Sitting in her torn draped old cotton sari,
In front of her thatched hut tired and weary;
Watching trees accompanying from her vivid memories,
She often narrated stories of ghosts from those haunted trees,
With birds ghosts flew out by rationale to set them free,
That is the Grand Ma symbol of village verity;

She had mastered the goods of the jungle roots,
Used those to heal the fractured wounds;
She knew the reason of the depressed moods,
Charming them with her stories of gals and goons;
That is the Grand Ma symbol of village sensibility;

She did not know how many springs she spent of earth,
Nor any one told her the date of birth,
During evil or peril she was there like a friendly apparition,
Grand Ma the embodiment of village tradition;

She lived in the village far away in the mountain plains,
Far away from the modern civilisation,
Providing her various nati (home made) medical solutions,
All those rich and poor came to her during times of pains,
She cured one and all with soothing embrace;
That is the Grand Ma symbol of village ingenuity;

She had never seen school, books nor a teacher,
She possessed all the acumen of a village school master;
Learning through the years in the village heat and sun,
Her insight into life put to shame most learned men;
That is Grand Ma the symbol of village humility;

She knew no education is worth if not useful to humanity,
But she failed to express those in the modern words of literary utility;
She pondered everyday to find the nuances of modern philosophy,
Whatever she tried found the answer only leading to profitability;
That is Grand Ma the symbol of village dexterity;