In front of me, there is a vast expanse of Sangam, full of people, the ghat in the horizon literally dotted with people. Next to me is an old woman, sobbing as she prays, offering water with her hands cupped over her head. Maybe, she is thankful to be here, maybe she is tired of living this life, maybe she prays for the family back home that she left when she came on this pilgrimage, maybe she prays for two square meals for her kin, maybe...