"I am not a sister, a daughter, a wife, a machine or a water-carrier. I'm much much more. I belong to the vastness of the voids and the creative life-force within me shall envelope the whole of existence.", she looked at the little flowers by the wayside and listened to the drops of dew breaking into a dawn song and laughed. Her laughter reflected a simple heart; it spoke of tears; of the tenacity of the earth; of the bubbling waters; of the foolishness of man and the silence of eternity. In that timeless moment , the whole of existence resonated within and without. "Hey you ! Bring the bricks up." She picked up the bricks and balanced them on her head and the sun sparkled playfully on her long tresses. It was deep honey brown and now a molten gold. She walked up the wooden barricade and her anklets tinkled ever so softly as if to show her quiet happiness and the joy of living every breath. She returned and sifted the gravel and it was as though she sifted humankind's joys and sorrows. She mixed the cement and the gravel in the right ratios and vanished up again in a perfect harmonious balance. The building process had been going on for the past four months and now it had a definite structure-rooms, alleyways, courtyard, fountains, garden-space, and she sometimes stayed in the evenings watching it. She wondered about the people who had designed it. . . "The building has no life, no harmony", she whispered to her silent companion, the sky. And she said, "A building is like a person, it must be lovely and happy on the inside and I'll make this my dream and my career: To build a home that would integrate in itself all the elements of Nature, all that I have been a silent witness to, the play of light and shade; the music of the waters; the never-ending space; the passion of fire; the vulnerable power of the earth; the laughter of a joyous soul; the silent communication with whom they called god. She smiled gently as the home began shaping itself in her small hands and in the wet clay which told her a thousand stories and the life-times it had lived through: the pressure and heat in the confines of the earth; the wind and water abrasions on rocks; the mellowing. She listened as she deftly worked and Home caught the little home in a dreamy brilliance as she lifted it up to share it with her companion. The home had a compassionate, penetrating quality and as one entered, there would be no more fetters for the soul. The face remained impenetrable, impassive or perhaps too expressive. "Hey you ! Bring the bricks up" And then it went on. . .