A trip to the Indian steel foundries. Life here has a circular flow, in the morning the workers get up early, there are those who take turns preparing meals for the others. The shifts begin and the men are all busy demolishing old wrecks from all over the world, the metal is cut, worked, melted and transformed again. Only the metal here changes life, these men dont, they are always here, every day. Every day until the evening, until the siren sounds the arrival of sunset. A human chain made of fatigue, sweat and hard work. They move tirelessly between ovens, splinters, smoke and presses, the hot sparks that burn the skin, the unbearable heat that pierces light clothes. Nothing between them and the danger, they seem unaware, invincible, indifferent but on closer inspection their hearts are heavy. The paradox repeats itself over and over, wrecks with a bright future alongside men who no longer have their own time. Old ships that can tell about the world, seas and storms become an enclosure of pitch-colored boys and men but with curious eyes and friendly smiles. Men, brothers to be respected.