
Seemingly parsecs away from the life of subordination to time and time tables, enveloped by the warmth of simple human minds in a cold December night in a Himalayan Village, a realization hit home: How unaccustomed I have become to simplicity, and yet so hungry for it. Then suddenly a cold gust of wind came and started playing with the flames and burning wood. This was the interaction of the elements in the dark and it was beautiful and true.

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