The seed that was planted
What do you do when the life you’ve carefully built no longer feels like it fits? When the version of “success” you’ve been chasing suddenly seems misplaced? My wife and I were living what many might call an ideal urban life near London—working full-time jobs in software and finance, a house with a tidy garden, vacations to recharge, and evenings spent binge-watching TV. Our daughter, Aarna, was born in 2016, completing what appeared to be the perfect picture.
And yet, something wasn’t adding up. I began noticing how I always felt drawn to mountains and forests, while my wife—thanks to her coastal Karnataka roots—preferred the ocean. It wasn’t just a passing preference; for me, the pull of the wild felt grounding, like it held answers I couldn’t yet articulate.
Real homes where people actually lived were featured in the show.
By the time we moved to Edinburgh in 2018 and bought another house with a slightly bigger garden, this nagging feeling had grown stronger. At work, as a consultant in finance, I found myself intrigued by a client in the timber business who owned thousands of acres of forest. Suddenly, owning land where nature could unfold at its own pace became a captivating thought. This thought was further fuelled by the Netflix show The World's Most Extraordinary Homes which had recently come out and showcased some of the homes in offbeat locations including forests. These were real homes of real people and not vacation rentals.
Curiosity turned into research, and I stumbled upon homesteading—a lifestyle where families lived off the land, growing their own food and reconnecting with nature. What struck me was the irony: people like us spent hefty sums to experience farm stays or nature retreats for a few days, while some families lived that life every single day. It was a far cry from the hurried, goal-chasing urban existence we knew. The 1972 book All Creatures Great and Small by a Vet James Harriot and the 2014 book The Yorkshire Shepherdess by Amanda Owen gave a detailed insight into such a life and I was sold!
Aerial view examples of living on a Natural farm and Homestead in Karnataka
Life has a way of bringing you full circle—with a healthy dose of irony. In 2009, I was the one who had convinced my father to sell all our ancestral farmland in his native village. “There’s no future in farming,” I’d declared. “Let’s invest in Bangalore real estate instead.” It made financial sense at the time, and I was adamant. Back then, farming seemed outdated—a backbreaking profession with little to show for it.
But as I delved deeper into the idea of starting a farm, I couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable truth: farmers grow food, the very sustenance of life, yet society overlooks their contribution. Doctors, rightly respected for saving lives, often earn fortunes, while farmers barely scrape by. It’s a bitter irony that the very people who feed us can’t afford to live comfortably themselves.
Looking back, losing that ancestral farmland felt like a missed opportunity—a connection to the soil we’d severed. But instead of dwelling on regret, I decided to act. I began watching YouTube videos of people in India building natural farms using methods like permaculture. The idea of creating something in India, where land was more affordable and the cost of labour lower, became irresistible.
So, I asked myself: could we do it? Could we leave behind the rat race and build something meaningful—a life that wasn’t about deadlines but about creating something tangible and lasting? A life that wasn't lending itself to the lifestyle diseases of the modern age to ensure we live a fuller life and set a better example for our daughter especially about making the choice to take the road less travelled. The idea began to take root, and I started exploring farmlands for sale, first in the UK and then in India.
5 Lifestyle Diseases That Are Common in Indians- Root Causes Image Source: randpark.co.za
I shared the idea with my wife. She wasn’t entirely sold on the concept—her heart lay with the coast, while mine was firmly with forests and mountains. Still, she listened, and I began discussing it with friends and family. I have a habit of vocalizing my dreams—it keeps me accountable. Once it’s out in the open, there’s no turning back.
When COVID-19 hit, the world came to a standstill—except for farmers. Their work didn’t stop; if anything, it became more vital. Watching them carry on while the rest of us paused only strengthened my resolve. If we were going to make a change, it had to be now. We began searching for land near Bangalore, hoping to find our own little piece of earth to bring this dream to life.
In the next few posts I'll share our experience of looking for land, what worked for us and what did not, and also about the challenges we faced as a family. I wish you all a good break over the Christmas period. Catch you in the new year.
Until then.