This place is everything your mind was oblivious of, a place your dreams wished not to dream. It is lonely and dusty, noisy. Never had my ears heard such noise. Though apparently abandoned there are no empty spaces, there is room for nothing, belief upon belief spring up in this arid well, making the well juiceless. So many voices wanting to be heard yet detoured in human-ness. India has aproximately 330 million deities. Earth turned so many times, all that remains is earth, dust, sand. The blossom is rare. Maybe this is the reason so many pilgrims find truth, life is easy to recognize in the midst of a lack of water, in a desert.
Further than this fact is even if we thought we were out of water the real source is and always has been inexhaustible no matter how dry we´ve left the well.
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