If you cannot see with an open mind, you can not possibly feel with a compassionate heart. With no compassion in the heart, the mind will be willing to let the world suffer and die. This I see. An evening stroll through the streets of Pune, the shades of darkness have swept in. Loud sounds still swallow the silence that the night sky offers, but a cool breeze makes the evening splendid. India assaults the senses. The haze that smells part campfire, infused with spices, is constant, from dawn till dusk The eyes are bombarded with movement and colors, like a pinwheel spinning frantically in a child’s hand, I never seem to be able to take in the visual storm. Horns, whistles, engines, the steady sound of the street, like white noise, is always in the background. You also can taste the street. It sits on your tongue, whether it be the last spicy meal you ate, or the last fuel infused breath you took, its flavor is distinct, and continuous. It is however, the sense of touch that is my favorite. The people will touch you in every manner. If you stand at the foothills of the Himalayas, and gaze up, you will be lifted deep within the heart. The majestic mountain range humbles. The people of India, do the same. If you are willing to see with open eyes, you will see a people of light heart and happy soul, you will see the peaks of the Himalayas. Your western mind will be humbled.