An old man, an ascetic, sits by the side of the road, unminding of his surroundings. He seems wise with his ashen hair and colored forehead. He seems at peace, his face not folding at the creases of his skin. He is one of many, men whom have crossed the three stages in their lives and are passing on to the fourth. A Hindu who has renunciated all his worldly possessions and chosen exile, he is a Sannyas.

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