Being Greener At Heart

Earth is here so kind, that just tickle her with a hoe and she laughs with a harvest

The famous quote by Douglas Jerrold!

Earth isn’t that kind anymore. But she was kind towards me, not that I tickled her but it was meant to happen.

When you just plan to write your 12th boards, the fear isn’t about failing , but the fear of losing your dreams. Same thing happened with an 18 year old water girl, (Of course me). I wanted to become speech therapist, help children to pronounce and express themselves. As usual, me and god always have some scores to settle, things worked out differently.

Guess what I am today? I am an agriculture consultant, marketer and content manager now! Quite different isn’t it.

I always wanted to be unique and different from the day I was born. My mom used to say, generally infants puts out their head first but in my case, it was my hand. Maybe that’s why I am different, emotional and an altruistic one!

I am a firm believer of , “When you want something, the whole universe conspires to make it happen”.

In 2009 , I joined my degree college for agricultural sciences even after purposely screwing ICAR AIEEA, a national entrance test for UG aspirants who wishes to make career in Agricultural sciences. But as my dearest friend (You know who!) had planned things for me differently.

My professor dad was happiest because I was following his path. But I wasn’t! I wasn’t ready to put my feet on the mud. He just told me,’this will teach you to keep your feet on the ground!”. This was the first time in my life , i didn’t agree with him. But then his soil did prove me wrong.

An expressions after final MBA seminar delivered in 5 minutes

Within 6 months of joining college, we were asked to sow and harvest 0.5 acre of crop , one season for Kharif and another for Rabi. I adored how the farmer’s kids used to enter the field with the khurpi and harrows. It was too difficult, everyday I used to slog in the field. I fell ill. Doctor discovered Pneumonia because my body was never used to getting wet in rain or walking in hot sun. Humongous task!

I was asked to rest and after one month, I went to see my Bajara plot. I sat there, astonished how plants had grown and were ready to be cut. My first harvest! I never imagined the feeling was more emotional than getting a top rank in subjects. I mellowed down. Dad was right, ‘it teaches you to keep your feet down’ . You turn humble, softer and sensitive to all.

Then it was no stopping back. But then I never wanted to become professor like my dad. Only reason was, everyday I would be compared to him. I never wanted to be known by nom de famille. I wanted my prénom.

So the journey started. I chose MBA. My most of batchmates decided to go for masters or AO jobs. I was charmed by collared shirts and blazers. But I realised the importance of collared shirts and blazers only when I started job. You need to earn it.

My first job followed by second!

I joined a fertiliser company as Marketing coordinator at Ahmedabad. There is story involved in it. I joined the company just because a well known fertiliser company’s top manager during one of the placements had challenged me that woman can’t do field sales especially in agriculture field. I couldn’t resist the male chauvinism because one man in my life always told me, girls can do anything in life , you just need the right attitude. I travelled whole Gujarat, met more that 100 distributors and daily coordinated with 11 sales staffs. More importantly generated sales such that few top companies called me to blackmail me. Thrill of the job was for 6 months, not because I failed. Because I wanted to do something else.

I wanted to help farmers. That’s’ how I joined AgroStar, one of the early startups in agri space. I had joined as technical support and helping farmers to improve the agronomy practices. Then I moved to marketing, that when I actually started understanding my writing skills. The excitement of disruption, funding, long late hours and idea bash sessions from founder brothers are still ravishing memories. I will always consider myself as blessed one because I got a chance to improve lives of farmer and will continue to do the same because of the learnings I had.

A Tractor Girl 👧

As you know well that I speak less but write more! My 5 years of agri-experience can’t be written as page, so hope you will wait for next one- with bells on!

Au revoir!

NS

Red Army Groupie!

An expanse of a bottle-green coloured shed, huge domes with machines, tractors, seed posters and open-aired stalls!

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Stalls of all different agricultural brands stood opposite each other, giving a picturesque look to the market-place. This is what a typical scène of a ‘Kheti Mela’ looks like.

The city was still in slumber at 9:00 am when I reached my destination. Since this city gets lost between big cities like Ahmedabad and Vadodara, I had modest expectations in terms of the crowd at the fair. As the day began, the fair opened up with a herd of turban-clad people, looking around at new products displayed in various stalls and farm technologies the fair had to offer. They gaped at new pumps, solar lamps, seeds, etc. at different stalls.

Quite amazed by the interest for the bag, I join the bandwagon and start shouting,” One miss call”, when suddenly, I was surrounded by a sea of people with mobile phones, squeezing through the crowd, to reach out for the bag in my hand. I gave an astonished look at the red bag, for which all the farmers were vying. A few curious farmers asked me, “If we give a missed call, will we only get red bags?” To this, I replied “No sir, much more than that. We will give you a wealth of information on farming as well. Just give a missed call on this number. The red bag is a small gift for you.”

By afternoon, there was a deafening chaos at the stall for the red prize! Suddenly, a woman asked for the red bag. When I pointed out to her that she already had a red bag, she said it was for her neighbour. Such was the craze for our premium red bags!

As the sun started setting, the crowd slowly dissolved too. My eyes gazed at the sea of people who had our premium bags, and it stood out strong even in the dim light. In no time post-sunset, the fair became lifeless just like a graveyard and I grabbed one of the premium red bags to join the ‘Red Army’.

More than a year of being at AgroStar, an active and shouting participant in quite a good number of agri fairs across Gujarat and Maharashtra and the energy is the same on either side for the AgroStar red bag.

Being Red Army, Being AgroStar!