Behold him, single in the yard,
Duty driven from late dawn to dusk;
Clutching at his instruments holy
He waters, manures, harvests without fuss.
Alone, he digs the glibe brown earth,
To sow seeds, plant and see them crowned
With flowers, fruit, vegetable, a plenty!
His toil is rare, rich renowned!
The trees around stand sentinel, a witness
To the service rendered with devotion, care;
Beyond duty’s call, work is worship;
He fosters friendship with land so fair.
Through his work before him and his Master
He works like the owner of the land,
There’s no need for supervisors,
He knows the worth, of soil and sand.
Work for Shantappa is worship!
He talls before humans all!
Passion drives him to diligence,
A distant reminder of man’s First Fall!
Sweat glistens on his bare body,
As his muscles stretch soil, stone, his test!
He is a model of service holy,
He earns his bread, he earns his rest!
God has blessed this soul to pouring
He watches over him as he toils ;
Divinity surrounds him, us imploring:
To take charge of our work, our spoils.
By
Prof. Maria C. D’Costa, Director, UXCEL Institute for Excellence