On a quiet night in Mumbai, the city humming gently in the background, Sneha Rajguru sat across from her father, Anil, in a rare pause between her whirlwind days as a Bollywood script supervisor. Amidst their conversation, her father asked a question that felt like a spotlight cutting through fog:
“What do you want to do in life?”
It wasn’t a confrontational inquiry. It was the kind of simple, seismic question that rearranges something inside you. And for Sneha, it did just that.
At the time, Sneha was thriving professionally, working on major film sets like Bulbul and Luka Chuppi. Her job took her to stunning locales across India, places that whispered stories and left impressions deeper than the scripts she refined. But what truly lingered with her wasn’t the applause or the glamour — it was the quiet magic of rural life and the soul-soothing touch of nature.
“I realised,” she later shared, “that I didn’t just want to tell stories. I wanted to live one — one that connected me to the earth.”
So, she did the unthinkable: she packed up her life in Mumbai and returned to Pune. No backup plan. Just belief.
The Spark in the Soil
The turning point came during a 52-day stay on a permaculture farm in the forests of West Bengal — no frills, no filters, just a tent and the wild. It was here that Sneha encountered not only the theory of permaculture but its poetry. She learned to listen to nature, to see the rhythm in the rain, the wisdom in the weeds.
“The village lifestyle,” she recalls, “woke me up. Eating food fresh from the ground — unpolished, unprocessed, and pure — changed my relationship with food forever. I couldn’t unsee it.”
Mumbai, in all its cinematic sheen, began to feel distant. Her heart was pulling her toward something quieter, but infinitely richer.
Back to the Land, and Forward to the Future
Anil Rajguru, nearing retirement, watched this transformation with awe. “Sneha always loved being outdoors. Even as a kid, she gravitated toward the soil,” he says. So when she spoke of farming, he didn’t hesitate — he joined her.
Together, the father-daughter duo founded BaapBeti Farms — a name that feels like a hug: Father-Daughter Farms. They found a barren two-acre plot outside Pune and saw not what it was, but what it could become. A canvas waiting for colour.
They didn’t just plant seeds — they planted a philosophy. The land was divided into permaculture zones, each one a carefully choreographed ecosystem. Birds, bees, vegetables, chickens, compost heaps — everything played its part in this lush symphony.
Zone 1 became home: a cozy residence overlooking their hand-grown paradise, buzzing with morning routines and farmyard activity. “We aren’t just growing vegetables,” Sneha says. “We’re growing balance — between nature, people, and purpose.”
A Legacy in Every Leaf
Farming wasn’t just a new career; it was Sneha’s calling. She took courses in permaculture, studied the language of the land, and began living a life that others only escape to on weekends.
The results were real — and delicious. From strawberries to lettuce, capsicum to experiments in native produce, BaapBeti Farms grew a bounty that was fully organic. No chemicals. No shortcuts. Just patience and passion.
And slowly, people began to notice.
What began as a personal journey became a community movement. Sneha listed the farm on Airbnb, inviting guests to experience a sustainable lifestyle. City dwellers came, wide-eyed and barefoot, to learn composting, harvesting, and how soil could teach more than screens ever could.
Her father became the unofficial tour guide, delighting visitors with stories and science. “I lost 18 kilograms just working here,” Anil laughs. “My blood sugar’s under control, I walk every morning in nature — and best of all, I get to build this dream with my daughter.”
Harvesting Change
The impact rippled beyond visitors. Local farmers, initially skeptical, began dropping by, curious. “They couldn’t believe we were doing this organically,” Sneha says. “Many of them now ask questions, share ideas — it’s no longer just our farm. It’s becoming a movement.”
Today, BaapBeti Farms earns up to ₹80,000 a month — but for Sneha, the real reward isn’t financial. It’s the knowledge that their farm is self-sustaining, constantly evolving, and rooted in values that go deeper than any plot twist Hollywood could write.
“This is my life now,” she says, eyes gleaming, “and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
A New Script Written in Soil
Every day on the farm is a fresh scene. Morning sun, birdsong cues, the rustle of leaves as Sneha tends to the garden or hosts guests around a fire. No two days are the same, but all carry the same message: sustainability isn’t a buzzword. It’s a way of life — and it can be beautiful.
Sneha Rajguru didn’t abandon storytelling. She simply changed the medium. Today, she writes with seeds, edits with pruning shears, and directs a story where the land itself is the protagonist.
And in this story, the final scene doesn’t come with “The End” — it comes with new beginnings, season after season.