Moti Grandpa and His Green Gourd Garden

Hello dear friends,
I hope you all are doing well and spending a beautiful life with your loved ones. I wish you all happiness and peace.

In our village, there lives a man named Moti Mia, whom we all lovingly call Moti Dada (Grandpa Moti). He is around sixty-five years old, but his cheerful smile and hardworking spirit make him seem much younger. Moti Dada’s life is a simple yet beautiful story one that speaks of honesty, love, and devotion to the soil.

He has four daughters and no sons. Yet, he never saw that as a loss. Instead, he raised all his daughters with care, ensured their education, and married them off with dignity. Now they live happily with their families, but they often come home to visit their parents—to taste their mother’s cooking or to relive childhood memories in the courtyard they grew up in.

Moti Dada’s home is small, just a tin-roofed house with four corners—but its surroundings are full of life. His wife, our beloved Grandma, spends her days keeping the house spotless, watering plants, and tending to the garden. Together they have turned their little yard into a green paradise. Everywhere you look, there’s something growing—papaya, banana, bottle gourd, and all kinds of vegetables.

Every year, Moti Dada cultivates bottle gourds on a small empty plot beside his house. Bamboo poles hold up a mesh of vines, and from it hang dozens of bright green gourds, swaying gently in the wind. The sight is mesmerizing, but what’s even more beautiful is the joy in his eyes when he looks at them. He proudly says, I grow these naturally, without any chemicals.

And that’s true. In a time when most people chase profits with pesticides and fertilizers, Dada still believes in nature’s rhythm.

Last week, when I visited home, I met Dada again. As soon as he saw me, his face lit up—
“Oh, my grandson! You’re here!” he called out warmly.

He showed me around his garden with pride. I asked for some vegetables and bananas. He packed them for me, but when I tried to pay, he refused. “Taking money from you doesn’t feel right,” he said with a soft smile. That one simple line carries the depth of his heart. For him, relationships mean more than money. Love weighs more than profit.

Back in the city, when I buy fruits and vegetables, I can’t help but remember Dada’s fresh, natural produce. The ones I buy here are full of chemicals—lifeless and tasteless. But the fruits from Dada’s hands carry the scent of the earth, the taste of hard work, and the warmth of sincerity.

To me, Moti Dada and Grandma are not just two villagers—they represent the purity of rural Bangladesh. Their honesty, simplicity, and contentment remind me of what true wealth really is. A good life isn’t about big houses or fancy things, it’s about a clean heart and peaceful soul.

In this busy modern world, where everyone runs after money and comfort, people like Moti Dada remind us of the true meaning of life. Their humble smiles, their natural way of living, and their untainted hearts are treasures this world is slowly losing.

I often miss them. I miss their warmth, their purity, and their fresh vegetables grown with love. And every time I think of them, I silently pray May Allah bless these simple, honest souls with good health and a long, peaceful life.