I don't pray, I don’t believe that beyond my comprehension there is a force that could sustain and help me in my hurdles if I pray, if I'll be good and do only good.

I ache and love my life as is. Intellectually understanding that I have to endure it all: the good and the bad; what makes me happy, what pains me; without control.

That is why my heart ached when I saw the women of Vrindavan, when I felt the naivety of their prayers. I was very excited.

Facing their praying, the love, warmth and redemption from solitude they felt, I wanted to pray with them. And in my heart I thought it is better to pray, to let the heart whisper a prayer for the better. It is better to shut one's eyes, to beg, to pray – not to look directly at the center of pain, of sorrow as I have done.

In Vrindavan's temples, the mothers from their own lives, pray twice a day, in shifts. Their pay – 20 rupees for a shift of 4 hours. They sit on the ground and sing (BHAJANS) twice daily. They walk to the Temple and back.

20 Rupees is the cost of mineral water's bottle for tourists