Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning. I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig. I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour. Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!" Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies. I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver. With whatever you find you create your glad games, I spend both my time and my strength over things I never can obtain. In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game.
Jambai...how beautiful it'd be around harvest!
A cowheard's day at work
Tamil Nadu's public transport: These buses reach everywhere
Buddha statue installed by Dalit Panthers in the Pennaiar river
These flowers can be found all over Villupuram
Happy childhood in villages
