In the dawn's gentle hush, where hope begins to bloom,
Rose a voice from the soil, dispelling the gloom.
Jyotiba, the beacon, with a heart fierce and kind,
Sowed seeds of knowledge for all humankind.

He walked through the fields where darkness reigned,
Where ignorance and oppression had long remained.
With the plow of education, he turned the barren land,
Tilling the soul's soil with his unwavering hand.

He saw the chains of caste and the shadows of despair,
And dared to challenge the old, the unjust, the rare.
A champion of the oppressed, a voice for the weak,
He taught the silent to speak, the unseen to seek.

In the temple of ignorance, he lit a flame,
Turning blind faith into reason's name.
His words-like a river, flowing deep and wide,
Carrying hopes of the broken, the downtrodden's pride.

He believed in the power of knowledge's light,
To break the shackles of perpetual night.
A builder of bridges, a moulder of minds,
He sought the truth that no caste confines.

His voice echoed in the corridors of change,
Challenging the hierarchy, breaking the range.
With every lesson, every humble prayer,
He fought for dignity, for justice, for care.

In the fields and the classrooms, his spirit roared,
Breaking the silence that long had stored.
A pioneer who dared to dream anew,
For a world where equality's flowers grew.

O Mahatma Phule! Farmer of the future's field,
Your vision, your quest-forever sealed.
In every child's eye, in every voice that's free,
Lies the legacy of your bravery and decree.

From the roots of your struggle, we draw our strength,
To challenge the old ways, to go to any length.
A voice of the oppressed, a light that shines,
Your life-a testament through the ages' lines.

So let us till the soil of justice and right,
Planting seeds of hope, spreading love's bright light.
For in your footsteps, we walk with pride-
Mahatma Jyotiba, the reformer, forever our guide.