Toba Tek Singhs around the world.

"Only once in the course of this long journey, punctuated by suffering, blood, illness, mud, did she believe she had caught a glimpse of a modicum of serenity and wisdom. She had already reached the far side of the Urals. On the way out of the village half consumed by a fire she saw several men sitting on a bank scattered with dead leaves. Their pale faces turned toward the mild late autumn sun, radiated a blissful calm. The peasant who was driving the cart jerked his head and explained softly, "Poor people, there are a dozen of them wandering around here now. Their asylum was burnt down. Oh, yes, madmen, you know."

- Dreams of My Russian Summers
  Andrei Makine