When you reach these heights, you look back and see Persia to the west and the Outer Ocean to the east. The world is far larger, than you ‘ve ever dreamt. The world of titans. 
 And, there is no way across, but to the south. 
 Into India.

Each land. Each boundary you cross, you strip away another illusion. You sense that to be your last, yet still you push hard. And harder, to reach for this home.

India. The land, where the sun was born. Perhaps fabled, but even richer than Persia. Had never been explored or conquered. In this land of riches and diversity, from the beginning, you struggle to find a unified land. In the centre of the kings, who conspire one another with the labyrinth of tribes, urged on by the zeal of the philosophers, but to die by thousands for their mystic gods.

There you have no quest for gold or glory. It evaporates, for there is none to have. And like thousands before, you try to conquer the land. But, you get nothing except their strong wine and a life with fruit of action, and her spiritual ways, renunciation, inner life… until, India herself, absorbs you in. Into her mystic ways, sometimes understood by some.

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