One day in Shangri-La I decide to go to the grasslands after dinner. Twilight is progressing fast, but I don’t care. This evening the seemingly unboundedness of the grasslands is exerting its pull on me, luring me into the arms of its green meadows.
With every step the school buildings on the outskirts of town are getting smaller and the grasslands nightly silence is growing louder. The only sound to be heard is the grunting of pigs and the barking of dogs, who – chained in the courtyards of their masters – probably feel the same spell as I do.
After walking for a while, I sit down on the grass. I look up at the sky. The moon is shining brightly, as are the stars. The beauty of the starlit sky, the vastness of the universe make me cry. I cry for a 1000 reasons and for none at all. After my tears have run dry, I sit there for a while listening to the nightly peace.
When I walk back home, another being follows me. As I get closer to the school buildings my follower starts to bark. I turn around and look calmly at an aggressively barking dog. It stops in its tracks. When I walk on, the barking is gone and the dog doesn’t follow me, it just sits there and watches me progress towards the buildings that form the outskirts of Shangri-La.