rest

Namaste,

Once upon a time there was a small village in Nepal. It rested on a mountain ridge between Kathmandu and Pokhara. Before the highway was built people walked from one city to another. It took seven days to reach the village from K, another two to P.

One day, everyday in the village a man carried a wicker basket full of rocks down a mountain to a construction site. A new kind of back breaking site with no connection to a spider's social network web.

He walked and walked. He dumped the rocks. He climbed the mountain and filled his basket.

In a noisy city filled with silent yellow temple candles a tired girl near her green vegetables and a lock fell asleep. She dreamed of education, clean water, friends and play in shadows. Where is her key?

Metta.