Every Saint I’ve ever known, has something in common with all the others. They’re intimate with God. Who is this God that they’re in communion with? What is the secret of the shamelessness of their love? The world seems to serve merely as a napkin for blowing their nose, when they’re overcome with emotion, in their incomprehensible love. There seems to be pain in this love too, of separation, as also madness. This love becomes their most prized possession and for its sake, they’re willing to sacrifice everything that others hold precious. ‘Others’, only by their own admission, and only because they are yet to be smitten. What is this love where there is no ‘other’, and ‘Self’ is all!