I was on the train to Mumbai and I met a really nice young man, Sharrod, a soldier traveling between assignments. We were talking about all things India and when I mentioned I didn't understand cricket, he was aghast. When he picked his jaw up off the floor, he said, "Cricket? You don't understand cricket? Cricket is the soul of India."

I loved the way he said that, "Cricket is the soul of India..." So much passion and love for his country and favorite sport with a real respect for both institutions. The picture above was on the beach in Goa. I really enjoyed south Goa and wish I'd set more time aside to do less. My plan was to park myself on the beach for a couple of days, not take too many pictures and turn my brain off. Vacantly occupying my time with as little to show for it as possible. Mission accomplished, but I wouldn't complain if I'd taken longer to accomplish less.

After I arrived in Goa, I grabbed a Kingfisher and headed down to the waters edge, I was standing there when young men began appearing from every direction; Hindi, laughs, trash talking and lots of gestures. In an instant, three sticks were cut from the trees, jammed into the sand, a milk crate at the other end and a line in the sand was drawn. Teams were formed and it was on. I watched for a while, the numbers dwindling the later it got, until I could barely make out two young boys hitting fly balls to each other. The next morning they were out there, this time they were recruiting any tourist that could play, same for that evening. I'll miss their passion, their willingness to play no matter what the conditions and to find fun where ever it can be made. I'm glad I got to see India's soul.