We all know those wandering souls, those strange people that seeming appear from nowhere at the door step of our existence. They enter into our lives as a guest would ones home, they stay for a time yet unselfishly they do not a make a home of it yet care for it all the same. Like all guests they too must leave, going as they came without any expectation. Yet what remains is the impression they make on you, how they change you.Even in their taking leave they manage to give. It is only then their beauty is truly understood.

Marx once spoke that religion is the opium of the masses, in that assessment, I would not disagree with him, A fakir and an addict do not differ much in existence or appearance. Like any addict worth his salt, must have dabbled in various drugs, so to must the fakir in dabble in various beliefs before finding his  form of ecstasy.