A barren wasteland teaming with sadness and regret lies in front of me. Faqir Chand a broken man spending his days on the brink of self-discovery and self-delusion. Here lies a human being who at looked deep inside of himself and saw a black void of nothing and claimed that the smallest bit of stardust existed where nothing could survive. So close but a million miles from the exhilarating feel of freedom and self-preservation.
A crossroad of complete understanding and know how was in his grasp, just in reach where the fingertip meets the inner thumb. Chased away only by the roots of a past gone wild. He was clinging on to his teachings that he saw as most sacred, meaningful and worthy. The marvelous madman of the east made bold statements ushering in thought and bemusements of a world with no faith, Shiva, Christ, Zeus, Santa or the Easter Bunny. Everything was set aside and placed on sale burned on a pile of ask…except for his that single strand, the strand of insanity.
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