In the past few weeks, I have been mulling over the sheer paucity of mono-myths or the hero’s quest that used to energize people – the old, the young, the men and women around me. It is almost as if the inner realm of magical unfolding has dried up, leaving us, at best, feeling good about what the market has to offer to us – a relentless display of sugar-coated consumable nothings – that are neither sumptuous nor do these linger.