Ajay’s Question: Maa Wants from Technology

Chapter 15 – Ajay's Question: Maa Wants from Technology

The courtyard of the Singh household hummed with evening life. The smell of warm dal and fresh rotis wafted from the kitchen. Children ran barefoot, their laughter echoing between the old neem tree and the open verandah.

Ajay walked in from the street, his kurta slightly creased, a small box tucked under his arm. "Toffees and gulab jamuns," he announced with a grin.

A small crowd of cousins and children swarmed around him like bees. He crouched down, handing out the sweets one by one, watching their eyes light up.

Vandana emerged from the kitchen with a bowl of sabzi in one hand. "Late again?" she teased, smiling. "Must've been a busy day."

Ajay nodded, slipping off his sandals. "It was. But also rewarding. We've started something new—something that listens to the problems real people face. And finds real answers."

As he sat cross-legged on the floor, the metal plates began to clink. Dinner was served, the air grew calm, and a question hung in Ajay's mind.

"Tell me," he said gently, looking around, "if you could fix one thing in the world using technology—just one—what would it be?"

A quiet pause settled.

It was Maa who spoke first.

Maa's Voice: The Rain That Didn't Come

Dadi ji sat near the clay stove, serving roti and dal to the children before the men. Her hands moved with rhythm, but her eyes drifted far away.

"I remember," she began slowly, "a time when we waited for the sky."

The family grew silent. Even Bharat stopped tapping his spoon.

"When I was young, I lived in a village outside Mirzapur. We didn't have electricity. No machines. Just hands, bullocks, and hope. If the monsoon didn't come, the ground would crack open like an old pot. We planted anyway. Sometimes, we reaped dust."

She looked down at the ladle, her voice growing steadier.

"We had to beg the zamindar for the plough. He took half our crop as rent. My father and I worked from sunrise to sunset, yet by winter, there was barely enough to eat."

Ajay's voice softened. "Maa… what would you want technology to change?"

She met his eyes—no anger, no sadness—only a quiet strength.

"Technology should lift the weight from the farmer's back."

Maa's Dream: Affordable Agritech

She wiped her hands on her pallu, and then she began. Not like a speech. But like planting seeds.

🧺 1. Simple Tractors – "Gaon ke liye, gaon mein bane"

"Don't give us foreign tractors with fancy switches and expensive parts," she said.

"Give us small, strong machines. Built in India. In small towns. Machines that don't need expert mechanics—just a village welder."

She gestured as if holding handlebars.

"Let a farmer rent it for ₹20 a day. Or own it slowly, like buying tea leaves—₹100 each week."

💧 2. Solar-Powered Water Pumps – "Jab bijli na ho, toh suraj hi sahara bane"

"We had wells. But to pull water, we needed strength—or diesel pumps, which were too costly."

Ajay listened intently.

"Give us pumps that run on the sun. That start at dawn and rest by dusk. Put in a small light to show when the water is low. Even a child should know how to use it."

🐛 3. Pest Control Tools – "Keede bhagao, zameen bachao"

"The keede (insects) were cruel. They came at night, ruined weeks of work."

She raised her fingers like wings.

"Use sound, not poison. Make a box that hums like danger—keede won't come. And if spraying is needed, let the machine know how much—not more, not less. Chemicals should help, not harm."

🌾 4. Storage Silos – "Anaj bache, toh bhookh kam ho"

She pointed to the baithak, where sacks of wheat were once stored during her early days in Lucknow.

"We used jute sacks. But rats came. Or rain leaked in. Grain turned black."

"Make storage that locks air, keeps out bugs, and doesn't need a big godown. Something even a small farmer can keep in his courtyard."

Ajay scribbled notes silently, his brow furrowed in thought.

🔍 5. Crop-Health Mini-Scanners – "Fasal bimaar ho toh pehle hi pata chale"

"You check sugar, don't you?" she said, glancing at Pooja.

"Then make something for crops. A small machine—a stick, maybe—you put in the soil, or wave over leaves. If the plant is sick, it shows red. If it's healthy, it glows green."

She smiled. "If we know early, we can save the crop. Not cry after it's gone."

Ajay's Quiet Resolve

The air in the courtyard grew still. The neem leaves rustled above, and somewhere nearby, a pressure cooker let out a whistle.

Ajay looked at his mother with deep respect.

"Maa," he said quietly, "what you've said… we will do. Not in theory. Not on paper. In fields. With hands."

He turned to Raghav, who had been listening with his head resting on his palm. "We'll talk to the cooperatives. Visit farms. I don't want to build for show—I want to build for survival."

Raghav nodded, eyes thoughtful.

Ajay looked down at Bharat, who was now carefully stacking toffees into a pyramid.

"These children deserve a different India," he whispered. "One where a farmer's child doesn't go hungry because the clouds forgot to come."

Closing Note: Seeds Sown

The dinner continued. Plates were refilled. Children dropped kheer on their clothes and giggled.

But in Ajay's mind, a new department had already taken shape—not in office files, but around this very floor.

An India where technology rose from the soil, and answered to the farmer.

And Maa's words would become its first foundation.