Friday 28 December 2012

Picture of the year

This is a photo I received forwarded by my son in Mumbai from my daughter in Kannur of my granddaughter Neha playing travelling to Thiruvananthapuram in a night train to see Appooppa. She has converted their dining table and chairs into a cabin and has taken the lower berth and the train is chugging along and when she wakes up she will be in Thiruvananthapuram (and not in Kannur) and Appooppa will be there at the railway station to receive her.  That is the game.

*****

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Precious....

P. Venugopal said...

isn't she?

Balachandran V said...

Kuttappu and I had a good laugh. K said it is so imaginative of her to create the 'lower berth' like this! :-)

P. Venugopal said...

ha ha ha!!! balan! she could not come this X-mas, because her grandma here had an attack of dengue fever and was down, after grandpa too had been down for nearly two months with what now appears to have been the same problem undetected... partly, i think the game is the invention of my daughter lakshmi; but you name a game, neha is ready!

Arun Meethale Chirakkal said...

Whoever invented the game deserves a pat for it was so imaginative and innovative that it kept a kid engaged. It’s a big deal, no doubt!

The other day when I went to Landmark, I saw a little boy lying on his stomach deeply engrossed in a picture book, blissfully unaware of the milling crowd and the flurry of activities around him. Such a heartwarming and endearing sight it was!

P. Venugopal said...

watch the children closely and we will understand what has gone wrong with we older people! their involvement in what they do is total, isn't it. but we are distracted by many things even as we are at doing something--thoughts of this and that.

rknair said...

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood/ When fond recollections recall them to view/ The orchard, the meadows, the deep-tangled wild woods/ And every loved spot my infancy knew :)

P. Venugopal said...

The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it,
The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell,
The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,
And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well-
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.

Unknown said...

Venu, there is nothing like children that makes you feel life is really worth living!!

suresh