Small Hands, Big Lessons

 How Little Bibu Learned Responsibility Through Love

 Pallapuram Prabakaran

 

Sunday is often called a day of rest. But for him, it was no different.

Most of his time was spent helping his parents — not with big chores, but with the little things a child could manage: filling a water pot, holding the basket, fetching a cloth, wiping the dust off the window.

After all, Bibu was only six years old. But his thoughts and actions were far wiser than his age.

At home, a large basket stood on a high shelf — filled with toys. New one. Old ones. Even the broken favorites buried at the bottom. But what use were they if he couldn’t reach them?

Even when he climbed onto a chair — or even the table — his tiny hands couldn’t touch it. He would stretch, wobble, and try… but it was always just beyond reach.

So he’d call out to his father.

“Papa! Can you please bring the basket down?”

His father would sigh and mutter,

“I just cleaned the house! If I take them down now, everything will become a mess again!”

Bibu would look up at the basket, his small eyes filled with longing.
Usually, he would call his mother next.

Mothers are always different.

Bibu’s mother was truly special. No matter how many times he called, she would bring the toy basket down — without a second thought.

Later, she would gently gather the scattered toys and put them back in place. For her, tidying up after him had become a daily ritual. Not once or twice — every single day. 

Yet she never raised her voice.

Never scolded.

Never sighed in frustration.

Her patience was as soft and steady as her smile.

Bibu would leave toys everywhere — the whole room sometimes buried under them. Then he’d ask for plates, vessels, or something else. Before long, he’d lose interest and run outside to play with his sibling.

He repeated this day after day, month after month.

But one thing slowly changed.

Bibu began to notice.

He saw his mother’s quiet labour.

Her burden.

Her love — woven into every small act of care.

One day, a thought struck him — a gentle awakening.

“If I can play with these toys, why can’t I also put them back?

What if I make cleaning up a game too?”

From that day onwards, he began tidying up after himself. Not just on Sundays — every day. Whether he played, studied, ate, or slept, he made sure everything he used returned to its place. Sometimes he forgot — but moments later, he’d remember and run back to correct it.

His father, impressed by this small but meaningful change, began to change too.
Now, when Bibu asked for his toys, his father handed them down gladly.

And in return, Bibu began helping his father with little cleaning tasks.

From then on, Bibu played, laughed, and lived a little differently.
Not because someone told him to but because he had learned something precious:

Responsibility is also an act of love.

A Drop of Dew on Velvet Rose

A Heartwarming Nature Poem About Hope & Wonder

Pallapuram Prabakaran

Like a bindi on red silk,

A dewdrop gleamed on the rose.

A Sparrow circled around,

Wishing to sip that crystal glow.

Yet—before it’s blinking eyes,
The drop vanished, gone like magic!

“What wonder is this!” it cried.

“Is water a thief?
Has my thirst no cure,

Bright lord of day?”

Its frail wings drooped in sorrow.

The little creature stood still,

Eyes wide, lost in awe.

Then—behold! Another pearl

Shone on a waiting petal.

Joy swelled within its heart;
It cheered aloud in delight,

Drawing close again to drink.
But with the flutter of its own wings,

The droplet melted away
Right before its eyes!
It drooped again in despair,

 

Then suddenly stirred, renewed,
And flew with life reborn.
A gleaming drop, trembling with breeze,

Settled into the flower’s fold.

There it drank, gently
It’s beak touching beauty.

Overflowing with bliss,

It sang a sweet melody,
And rose to the sky,

Happy and free!

Dawn Hasn’t Broken Yet!

-A Beautiful English Nature Poem for Kids 

The dawn has not yet broken —

What’s the crow up to now?

Where has the rooster gone?

The crow caws over there,

The rooster crows right here!

 

Where’s the sparrow flown away?

And where’s our cuckoo too?

The sparrow chirps from far,

The cuckoo sings so near!

 

The dawn has not yet broken (twice).

 

Where has the dog wandered off?

And where does the fox hide?

The fox howls loud afar,

The dog barks here nearby.

 

Where’s the lion gone to roam?

And what’s the cow now doing?

The lion roars out there,

The cow moos sadly here.

 

The dawn has not yet broken (twice).

 

Where has the owl disappeared?

Why does the night still cry?

A lizard whispers something low,

A snake hisses close by.

 

Has the horse not yet neighed?

Has the donkey stayed quiet?

Where has the duck drifted to?

It sleeps, forgetting to quack.

 

The dawn has not yet broken (twice).

 

Where’s the parrot flown away?

What’s the mouse now plotting?

One parrot talks from yonder,

Another coos from here.

 

Then comes the mouse sneaking in —

Stops halfway, squeaking loud!

Squeak… squeak… squeak…

 

The dawn has not yet broken (twice).

-Pallapuram Prabakaran

Bipu and the Curious Case of Camphor

 

Bipu and the Curious Case of Camphor

Pallapuram Prabakaran

 

In a small village lived a cheerful seven-year-old boy named Bipu. Every morning—even on Sundays—he woke up early, filled with excitement for the day ahead. He had a little routine he loved dearly. After brushing his teeth and taking a refreshing bath, he would stand outside the house to pray to the rising sun.

Facing east, he lifted his hands toward the sky. Closing his bright, beautiful eyes, he felt the warmth of the morning light. To him, the Sun was powerful, magical, and full of blessings. With a heart full of devotion, he chanted his favourite Surya mantra:

“Vakrathunda Mahakaya, Sooriyakodi Samapprava,

Nirviknam Gurume Deva, Sarva Kaaresu Sarvathaam.”

“And this steam is the third state—gas.”
and back again:
Gas → Liquid → Solid.

This was his way of connecting with the mighty Sun God—who, he believed, brought light, strength, and joy to the world.

One particular Sunday, just as he finished his prayers, Bipu noticed something strange in the sky. The sun tried to shine brightly, but dark clouds were playing hide-and-seek with its rays. It looked as if the darkness had borrowed a little light from the sun, yet couldn’t brighten the sky fully.

Curious, Bipu went inside. His father was in the pooja room, and Bipu quietly joined him. The fragrant smoke of sambirani and agarbathi filled the house, creating a peaceful and divine atmosphere. As his father lit a piece of camphor, the tiny flame danced brightly.

Bipu watched it closely. When the camphor burned completely and vanished, a question popped into his mind.

“Dad, why do sambirani and agarbathi produce smoke when they burn, but camphor disappears without a trace?”

His father smiled gently—he loved these curious questions.

He walked to the kitchen, took twelve ice cubes from the refrigerator, and placed them in a pan.

“What is this?” he asked playfully.

“Ice cubes!” Bipu replied eagerly.

“Correct! This is the first state of matter—solid.”

As they watched, the ice slowly melted into water.

“Now look. It’s water—the second state of matter—liquid.”

Then he placed the pan on the stove. Soon the water began to boil, and steam rose into the air.

“Appa, the water is boiling! It reached 100°C!” Bipu exclaimed.

His father nodded proudly.

Understanding flashed in Bipu’s eyes.

“So… camphor jumps from solid to gas without becoming liquid?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes!” his father said. “That process is called sublimation. The flow of states usually goes:

Solid → Liquid → Gas

But some substances, like camphor, skip the liquid stage.”

Bipu felt delighted. The mystery was solved!

“Thank you, Dad. Now I understand!”

As their conversation ended, Bipu looked outside. The sun had finally broken through the clouds, lighting up everything with golden warmth. Bipu felt grateful—grateful for his father’s wisdom and grateful for the powerful sun that guided him each day.

***

Bipu: The Mystery of the Ice Cubes

 

Bipu: The Mystery of the Ice Cubes

By Pallapuram Prabakaran

        Every morning, Bipu’s father dropped him off at school on his bike. The wind ruffled Bipu’s hair as he sat behind him, holding tightly to his father’s shoulders. Bipu loved those short rides — that was when his mind came alive with questions.

“Appa, why do clouds float?”

“Why do leaves fall?”

His father would laugh and say, “One question at a time, scientist!”

Sometimes he gave quick answers. Sometimes he said, “Let’s find out this evening.”

The Mystery Begins Near the Rajagopuram

One sunny day, as they neared the school, Bipu suddenly gasped and pointed excitedly.

“Look, Dad! What’s that?”

The bustling town of Srirangam, near the majestic Rajagopuram, buzzed like a festival. Two-wheelers zipped past, autos honked, and people hurried through the narrow lanes.

His father turned.

“What’s what?”

Near a small roadside shop, a man had parked his motorbike. On the back seat were three large ice blocks, tied tightly — not with rope, but with black rubber tubes. They glistened like diamonds in the sunlight.

“The ice cubes are tied with rubber tubes instead of ropes! Why?” Bipu asked, puzzled.

His father smiled.

“That’s an excellent question, my boy! But you’ll be late for school. I’ll explain this evening.”

Bipu nodded reluctantly. “Okay… but don’t forget!”

Evening Experiments Begin

Evenings were Bipu’s favourite time. After homework, he and his father would sit on the balcony or in the backyard doing little experiments together.

They had made paper boats to test why things float and once examined sugar crystals under a magnifying glass. Every day felt like opening a treasure chest of discoveries.

His father always said:

“The best question is the one you haven’t asked yet.”

That line always made Bipu beam.

Recreating the Street Scene at Home

After school, Bipu rushed in.

“Dad! What’s the answer?” he shouted.

“Patience, young scientist!” his father said, laughing.

He brought ice cubes, ropes, and rubber bands. He tied one ice cube with rope and another with rubber bands.

“Let’s observe.”

As the minutes passed, both ice cubes began melting, forming tiny streams of cold water.

Then, while Bipu watched, he suddenly remembered the man from the street — the person handling the ice blocks.

The Man Handling Ice Blocks 

This image perfectly matched what they were testing — rope vs. rubber, melting ice, and tightness.

Understanding the Science

His father began explaining:

“When ice melts, heat transfers from the warm air into the cold ice. That’s why it slowly becomes water.”

Bipu leaned closer.

“The rubber tube is elastic. It stretches when the ice is big and shrinks as the ice melts. So it stays tight.”

Suddenly Bipu exclaimed:

“The rope is falling off — but the rubber is still tight!”

“Exactly!” his father said. “Rope cannot adjust. Rubber adapts. And rubber doesn’t absorb water like rope does, so it keeps gripping even when wet.”

“Wow! So rubber is stronger?”

His father smiled.

“Not stronger — more flexible. Real strength is not just holding on. It’s knowing how to adjust.”

Bipu’s eyes sparkled. Another mystery solved!

***

Sweet Dream – A Cozy Lullaby for Kids

Sweet Dream
by Pallapuram Prabakaran

 Cozy Lullaby Version

Chorus

Sweet dream, sweet dream,
Sweet dream, sweet dream,
Snuggle in, drift away,
Sail into the stars today,
In your dreams, you can do…
(Sweet dream, sweet dream)

Verse 1
Do you want to fly like a bird?
Yes, yes, yes—you can! (You can!)
Do you want to swim with a shark?
Yes, yes, yes—you can! (You can!)
Snuggle down, count to three,
Drift away across the sea…
(Sweet dream, sweet dream)

Verse 2
Do you want to play on the moon?
Yes, yes, yes—you can! (You can!)
Do you want to run like the wind?
Yes, yes, yes—you can! (You can!)
Sail through clouds, soft and fair,
Dreams will take you anywhere…
(Sweet dream, sweet dream)

Verse 3
Do you want to do magic with fire?
Wow! That’s amazing—yes, you can!
So, what do you have to do now?
Go to sleep, yes, you can!
Snuggle close, drift away,
Sail where happy dreamers play…
(Sweet dream, sweet dream)

Outro
Sweet dream, sweet dream,
Sweet dream, sweet dream…

 

Bipu and the Odd-Even Mystery - A Fun Math Story for Kids

Bipu was a cheerful eight-year-old boy. Every day after school, he rushed to the playground. There, he ran, jumped, and laughed until the sun began to set.

Whenever he returned home, Bipu finished his homework first. His parents never had to remind him. He completed every assignment on the same day and reviewed all his lessons. For him, it wasn’t just discipline — it helped him understand and remember things better.

One evening, after hours of playing, Bipu came home tired. His legs felt heavy, and his shoulders ached. He was exhausted but still happy. After a snack, some water, and a short rest, he sat down to do his homework.

But that night, his homework felt endless. He wrote until his hand cramped. So he paused to revise his lessons. Tamil was easy. English was fine too. But when he opened his Math book, he frowned.

That day’s lesson was about odd and even numbers — and Bipu was still confused. Feeling frustrated, he went to his father for help.

“Dad, do you know about odd and even numbers?” he asked.

His father smiled warmly.

“Yes, dear, I do.”

“If you place things in two equal rows and both rows match, the number is even,” he explained. “If one row has an extra item, the number is odd.”

Bipu tilted his head, still puzzled.

Noticing this, his father went inside and came back with a small bag of balls.

“Watch carefully,” he said.

He placed ten balls on the floor — five in one row and five in the other.

“See? Both rows match. This is an even number.”

Then he removed one ball from the top row.

“Now one row has an extra ball. This is an odd number.”

Bipu watched closely as his father removed the balls one by one. 

“See? When one row has an extra ball, it’s odd. When both rows match, it’s even.”

He removed another ball from the bottom row — it became even again.

Now Bipu felt confident. He picked up a ball himself to check the pattern. His eyes widened as understanding dawned.

“Wow! Now I get it!” he exclaimed.

An hour later, Bipu returned with a new doubt.

“Dad,” he said, “I know 1, 3, 5, 7, and 9 are one group and 2, 4, 6, 8 are another… but I always mix them up! How do I remember which is which?”

His father smiled again.

“Let’s break it down together.”

“Can you spell the words odd and even?”

“Sure! O-D-D and E-V-E-N,” Bipu said proudly.

“Good. Now count the letters.”

“ODD has three letters. EVEN has four!”

“Exactly,” his father said.

“ODD has three letters — like the numbers that can’t be split into two equal groups.
EVEN has four letters — like the numbers that divide perfectly.”

“Ohhh, now I understand!” Bipu exclaimed.

“ODD has three, EVEN has four — that’s my trick!”

His face lit up with joy.

“Thanks, Dad! I won’t be confused anymore!”

That night, he finished his math homework with confidence. He closed his book with a big smile. Learning had suddenly become fun.

What began as a tiring evening turned into one filled with joy and discovery.
From that day on, Bipu never mixed up odd and even numbers again.

***