There is only one reason why a rally driver wandering for Asia can stop in Pokaran: witness the "extraordinary performance" (Lonely Planet, p. 278) of bridesmaids of Numidia which hover in the village of Kichan at dawn and dusk. This should be a flock of very large, about 9,000 storks, which for over a hundred years is fed by local farmers, particularly loyal to the customs of these cranes, vegetarian and monogamous. Down from the Siberian steppes, they face hunger, fatigue and predatory and are wintering here in the contaminated Thar desert, where India celebrates its nuclear tests. In short, a life of shit. We drove to a hundred Km to see them, but they were committing suicide somewhere. We had already climbed back into the car when it appeared a group of Bridesmaids: rapid vaulting in the sky and greetings. They have allowed just enough time to snap a few photos. Then, the charitable local farmers made us see a couple - probably lame - in the fence where they leave the birdseed. Recalling the story of the cook Chichibio, I tried to clap. But the two Bridesmaids or have been put there by the tourist Kichan or they do not know Boccaccio at all. The fact is that on the way back, right in the middle of Thar desert ("an arid and inhospitable expanse", Lonely Planet, p. 352) it started to rain. Never trust the guides, never trust Bridesmaids . Especially if vegetarian and monogamous.