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Rooted in Dharma: How Ajek Pradhan Revived Mahavir Pahad and a Legacy

🔧 From Engineer to Eco-Warrior: A Legacy Reawakened

Retirement is not an end—it can be a rebirth. Across India, many professionals are rediscovering meaning by returning to the land. Their journeys aren’t driven by ambition—but by alignment. They’re not chasing growth—they’re nurturing it. On the sun-scorched slopes of Mahavir Pahad in Odisha’s Sundargarh district, a quiet revolution is underway. Once barren and lifeless, the hill now breathes again—thanks to the tireless effort of Ajek Kumar Pradhan, a retired senior manager and NIT alumnus. With over 2,500 trees planted, he transformed not just a hill—but a whole community’s relationship with nature. His work is more than ecological—it is spiritual. Rooted in dharma, it is a living prayer to the land.

He is not alone.

Bibekananda Mishra, another NIT batchmate, retired from Reliance as Senior Vice President and returned to his ancestral land in Bhadrakh district. There, he created a thriving agroforestry model—planting over 5,000 trees including guava, areca nut, mahogany, sandalwood, and teak. With protected cultivation of leafy greens and exotic vegetables, his goal is not just environmental sustainability—but financial viability, targeting a ₹1 crore turnover. His farm is not a business—it’s a second life, rooted in dharma.

And in a modest effort, the author of this blog, also an alumnus of NIT Rourkela, has contributed by planting trees along a nearby roadside. Though over half of them withered in the relentless heat of the 2024 summer, the effort was not in vain. The intention was sincere. The resolve remains.

Snapshots of the plantation stand as quiet reminders—of loss, of learning, and of beginnings still in bloom.

Home made saplings planted during 2024 rainy season.

Rooted in Dharma: Reclaiming a Hill, Reviving a Legacy

After retiring as a senior manager from CTTC Bhubaneswar, engineer Ajek Kumar Pradhan returned to Chemthapada, a small village nestled near Mahavir Pahad in Odisha. What greeted him was not nostalgia—but silence. The hill that once symbolized village vitality had become an arid, lifeless mound.

With no external funding, Pradhan began planting trees: neem for natural pest control, jamun for its hardy, fruit-bearing nature, mango for nourishment, and karanj to enrich the soil. His efforts weren’t just botanical—they were philosophical, echoing Hindu principles that revere the Earth as sacred.

To amplify the impact, he reached out to village youths, who eagerly joined the mission through the Azad Hind Club. Their work wasn’t confined to digging pits—it ignited local pride. Slowly, the hill turned green. Birds and animals returned. The project started restoring not just ecology, but identity.

Women Participation

While the project gained momentum through youth and elders, there’s no mention of women’s participation in available reports on Mahavir Pahad. This may reflect local cultural dynamics or simply an oversight in documentation. Given Odisha’s history of women-led forest efforts elsewhere, future plantation drives here could benefit from greater gender inclusion.

Corporate Roots, Village Heart

What makes Pradhan’s story especially poignant is the dichotomy it represents: the high-flying corporate executive who never forgot the soil of his childhood. While his career navigated steel factories and technical institutes, it is the barefoot connection to Mahavir Pahad that defines his legacy.

I didn’t do it for recognition,” Pradhan shared in a local interview. “I just couldn’t watch the hill die. It was part of me—and I was part of it.”
His words reflect a dharmic bond—not as stewardship, but as sacred kinship.

In today’s India—where aspirations drive rural youth to urban centers and green fields give way to concrete—it’s refreshing to see this inversion. Pradhan chose the village, not out of retirement boredom but because that’s where impact is most intimate.

He invested not just money, but emotion, time, and community trust. For younger professionals unsure of how to give back, his story is proof that returning to one’s roots can nourish more than nostalgia—it can heal the Earth.

Rooted in Dharma: Why These Trees Were Chosen—and What They Represent

Restoring Mahavir Pahad wasn’t a random act of planting—it was a deliberate, thoughtful selection of native trees that serve ecological, cultural, and spiritual purposes. Ajek Kumar Pradhan chose four primary species:

Neem (Azadirachta indica) for its resilience in dry, rocky terrain and its natural ability to repel pests—perfect for low-maintenance growth.
Jamun (Syzygium cumini) for its nutrient-rich fruit that feeds birds and wildlife, while also helping conserve soil.
Mango (Mangifera indica) to provide shade and seasonal fruit, inviting biodiversity and community interest.
Karanj (Pongamia pinnata) for its nitrogen-fixing properties that heal degraded soil and promote long-term fertility.

But the choices weren’t purely practical—they were deeply rooted in cultural wisdom. Neem, for instance, plays a sacred role in Jagannath rituals in Odisha. Mango leaves are staples in Hindu ceremonies, and jamun is cherished in Ayurvedic medicine. These trees aren’t just useful—they’re symbolic of life, healing, and rebirth.

As the ancient Shanti Mantra reminds us:
“ॐ द्यौः शान्तिरन्तरिक्षं शान्तिः…”
“Let there be peace in the sky, on Earth, in the plants and herbs, in all of existence.”
These trees, then, are not just ecology—they’re a prayer rooted in dharma.

By choosing species aligned with local climate and tradition, Pradhan ensured not just survival, but a soulful connection between the forest and the people who live beside it.

Echoes of Change: How Villagers Responded

What began as one man’s mission soon stirred the hearts of many. In Chemthapada and nearby villages under Bhoipali panchayat, the sight of Mahavir Pahad turning green sparked pride and participation. Local youths, led by the Azad Hind Club, rallied behind Pradhan’s vision—digging, watering, and guarding saplings that now breathe life into the hill.

But it didn’t stop with the young. Elders, families, and even neighboring villages took note. In Sagarpali, inspired by similar ecological distress, villagers formed the Vana Surakhsya Samiti—planting 48,000 saplings through voluntary labor and rice donations. Their efforts restored Kaladunguri Hill and showcased the power of collective will.

The plantation drive also inspired nearby villages to mark Van Mahotsav, not just as a token event, but a lived commitment. Every monsoon, saplings are now planted with puja, song, and shared meals—blending ritual with regeneration.

Together, these voices form a chorus of hope: proof that when a community walks with nature, the ground beneath them blossoms.

From Mahavir Pahad to Chipko: A New Wave of Green Resolve?

The reforestation of Mahavir Pahad echoes the spirit of India’s legendary Chipko Movement—where Himalayan villagers hugged trees in protest against deforestation. But unlike Chipko’s resistance-based activism, Mahavir’s story is one of quiet restoration.

Chipko, born in 1973, rallied communities—especially women—to oppose commercial logging and triggered national environmental reform. Mahavir Pahad, reborn in the 2020s through Ajek Kumar Pradhan’s personal mission, shows that grassroots change needn’t start with protest. It can begin with planting.

Both movements stem from deep ecological commitment and a spiritual bond with nature. Chipko embodied satyagraha—nonviolent resistance. Mahavir channels karma yoga—selfless service. And just as Chipko scaled into national policy reform, Mahavir Pahad holds the potential to inspire similar transformation, especially if:

Surrounding villages replicate the model
Broader community mobilization grows
Policy and media attention amplify its visibility
Women and elders are actively woven into the effort

It’s a movement still taking root—but with rich soil, determined hands, and sacred purpose, it may yet blossom into the next great chapter of India’s environmental legacy.

Changing Landscapes: What Grew Beyond the Trees

The greening of Mahavir Pahad didn’t just shift the skyline—it shifted the soul of the locality. Summers now arrive softer, shaded by the canopy of over 2,500 trees. Birds and monkeys, once absent, have returned, forming a quiet chorus that tells of nature restored. Wildlife-human conflict has visibly declined as ecosystems begin to rebalance.

And it’s not just the environment that’s breathing easier. Villagers speak of a subtle pride—a sense of reclaiming something lost. Youth involvement through the Azad Hind Club has grown into a community-wide ownership of the hill, with elders and children alike acknowledging the effort as a symbol of identity.

A similar transformation once unfolded in nearby Sagarpali, where collective effort revived Kaladunguri Hill into a thriving green zone. That project, rooted in voluntary labor and native planting, eventually boosted local livelihoods and earned recognition as a model of community-led conservation—offering a glimpse of what Mahavir Pahad, now firmly rooted, may also grow into.

Mahavir Pahad’s journey is younger—but its roots are firm. With continued care and involvement, it holds the promise to mirror Sagarpali’s success: not just in greenery, but in community renewal, ecological balance, and perhaps even local enterprise.

While global reports warn of rising deforestation and climate anxiety, Mahavir Pahad offers a hopeful inverse: where community and culture become climate custodians. Rooted in dharma, this hill proves that resilience begins at home.

Rooted in Dharma: Measurable Impact, Growing Forest, Living Culture

As of mid-2025, over 2,500 trees now cover approximately 8–10 acres of Mahavir Pahad’s once-barren slope—a green expanse visible even from nearby roads. This transformation is not only botanical; it is sustained through structured community care.

Forest Cover: The planted zone spans roughly 8 to 10 acres, depending on slope gradient and soil accessibility. Dense clusters have formed where karanj and neem thrive best, while mango and jamun occupy edges with human access.
Ongoing Maintenance: A rotating team of Azad Hind Club volunteers, along with local youth and elders, has informally divided the hill into zones—watering saplings, clearing invasive weeds, and protecting against grazing or fire. A simple, locally managed register tracks tree survival rates.
Ecological Shifts: Shade cover has cooled peak afternoon temperatures. Villagers now note slower water runoff, firmer topsoil, and the return of birdsong and small mammals—marking the beginnings of an ecological rebalancing.
Feedback Loop in Motion: This is no one-time project. As nature responds, so do people. Families now visit the hill not as onlookers, but as caretakers. Festivals, picnics, and seedling drives have brought a cultural rhythm to conservation.

More than numbers, this impact is now part of local routine—a new normal where care for the hill equals care for the self. With continued vigilance and perhaps modest institutional support, Mahavir Pahad could evolve into a formal community forest model in the years ahead.

If such dharma-rooted models were given even modest state support—through seed grants, water access, or recognition—they could blossom into a national reforestation template. Pradhan didn’t wait for policy—but policy can now follow his path.

Your Role in the Circle of Life

One Man, Many Lessons: Redefining Impact

Ajek Kumar Pradhan didn’t wait for a grant, NGO, or government mandate to act. His tools were conviction, care, and community. In doing so, he reawakened an ancient truth: that we are not separate from nature, but part of her.

The Hindu ethos doesn’t ask us to conquer nature—it invites us to revere her, protect her, walk in harmony with her.

Mahavir Pahad today stands as a testimony to what one person—armed with dharma and love—can accomplish.

Dharma, in its deepest sense, is not rule-following—it is life-affirming alignment. For Pradhan, planting trees was not a duty imposed; it was an act of inner clarity, of being in harmony with time, soil, and spirit.

Call to Action: Be the Squirrel, Be the Mountain Mover

Inspired by the squirrel in the Rama Setu and Dashrath Manjhi’s mountain-splitting resolve, it’s time to ask:

What’s your hill? What’s your handful of sand?

Whether it’s planting a tree, mentoring youth, starting a neighborhood cleanup, or simply choosing to care—start small, but start now. Your effort, however modest, could be the spark that transforms a community, a forest, or even a future.

And if you’re still searching for a path that resonates—

Join us as a blogger and contribute to the society.

Use your voice to inspire action, tell stories that matter, and shape change one word at a time.

We’re not just building forests—we’re building a culture of care.

Step in. Speak up. Start something.

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Glossary of Uncommon Terms

Mahavir Pahad: A hill located in Bargaon block, Sundargarh district, Odisha, which was reforested by retired engineer Ajek Pradhan through community-driven efforts without external funding.
Chemthapada: A small village near Mahavir Pahad in Odisha, where Ajek Pradhan returned post-retirement and initiated the reforestation drive.
CTTC Bhubaneswar: Central Tool Room & Training Centre, an autonomous body under the Ministry of MSME, where Ajek Pradhan served as a senior manager before retirement.
Azad Hind Club: A local youth group in Chemthapada that participated in planting, maintaining, and guarding saplings during the reforestation of Mahavir Pahad.
Neem (Azadirachta indica): A native Indian tree known for its medicinal properties and pest-repelling qualities, considered sacred in many Hindu traditions.
Jamun (Syzygium cumini): A fruit-bearing tree valued in Ayurvedic medicine and ecosystem restoration due to its hardy nature and bird-attracting fruits.
Karanj (Pongamia pinnata): A nitrogen-fixing tree used to rehabilitate degraded soil, also culturally valued in traditional Indian agricultural and forestry practices.
Kaladunguri Hill: A hill near Sagarpali village in Odisha that underwent successful community-led afforestation through the Vana Surakhsya Samiti.
Vana Surakhsya Samiti: A voluntary forest protection committee commonly found in Odisha’s villages, responsible for conservation, plantation, and guarding community forests.
Chipko Movement: A 1970s environmental movement in India where villagers, particularly women, hugged trees to prevent commercial deforestation, sparking national forest policy reforms.
Satyagraha: A philosophy of nonviolent resistance popularized by Mahatma Gandhi, combining “satya” (truth) and “agraha” (firmness).
Karma Yoga: In Hindu philosophy, the path of selfless action performed without attachment to results, one of the core teachings of the Bhagavad Gita.
Dharma: A complex Sanskrit term signifying duty, righteousness, and cosmic order; in this context, it represents environmental stewardship rooted in spiritual values.
Van Mahotsav: An annual Indian tree-planting festival celebrated in the first week of July to raise awareness about forest conservation.
Jagannath Rituals: Religious ceremonies associated with Lord Jagannath, a form of Vishnu worshipped in Odisha; neem wood is used to carve the deity’s sacred idols.