“We see our real motherland in the village; her heart is there, and it is there that Lakshmi, the Goddess of Plenty, seeks her throne. For a long time that throne has not been kept ready for her, for the opulent demi-god Kuver has lured men's minds away to the city's yakshapuri. We have long neglected to invoke Lakshmi to her own sphere of plenty; thus from the land have vanished health and beauty, knowledge and joy, and even of life itself little remains. Today in the village the tanks are dry, the air pestilent, the roads impassable, the granaries empty and social bonds lax. Envy and malice, squabbles and misdeeds hasten the decay of the crumbling society. The end seems near, for in this squalid, uncared-for land the fearful rule of Yama grows more powerful every day.
May the Giver of all Bounty be pleased with those who have to-day taken upon themselves the task of filling with milk the drained breasts of the village—that nourisher of life; who are lighting a lamp to bring radiance to her gloomy and joyless home. May these dedicated souls, by their sacrifice, service and devotion, by unifying all in harmonious living and co-ordinating all disjointed efforts, banish from India the sins of her people, accumulated through centuries of ignorance and inertia, and with these the curse of an angry deity; this is what I pray for with my whole soul.”
