High on the sacred peak of Mount Kailash, the air was still, as if holding its breath in reverence. In the center of a tranquil pond, where the water shimmered with the glow of divine energy, sat Siddhika. Her serene form was perched gracefully atop a blossoming lotus, its petals glowing faintly in hues of gold and violet, a symbol of sustenance that pulsed through every part of the universe. Siddhika sat in deep meditation, her face calm, her eyes gently closed, and her posture perfect. Around her, the elements seemed to bend in devotion; the wind moved in soft whispers, the water barely rippled, and the light of the sun bathed her in a divine glow.
Miles and dimensions away, in the endless cosmic ocean of Vaikuntha, Dharanesh sat in similar repose. His lotus floated effortlessly on the waves of creation itself, an island of peace amid the swirling energy of the universe. In his hands rested his veena, and with each gentle stroke of his fingers, divine music flowed forth, rippling through the fabric of existence. The music was not just sound—it was the very essence of cosmic balance, an unspoken language that kept stars spinning in their orbits, worlds aligned, and justice flowing across all realms.
It was an unspoken truth now, that the gods could often find Siddhika in her lotus pond at Kailash, silently meditating, and Dharanesh in the vastness of Vaikuntha, harmonizing with the cosmos through his veena. It was as if they had become fixed points of reference in the divine order, holding the balance and sustenance of all existence in their stillness and music.
The gods, ever curious, watched these scenes unfold with mild amusement. At the base of Kailash, near Siddhika's pond, Indra, the king of the gods, leaned lazily against a pillar of cloud. His lightning bolt rested by his side, but his eyes were fixed on Siddhika, sitting as still as a mountain. "You know," he began, glancing at Vayu, the wind god, who hovered nearby, "she's been sitting like that for hours. I can't help but wonder if she's actually doing anything or just napping."
Vayu, his form swirling gently with the breeze, smirked. "Indra, you wouldn't understand meditation if it hit you like one of your own thunderbolts. Besides, this is Siddhika. She's probably holding the universe together with her breath."
Indra frowned, running a hand through his hair. "Still, it seems a bit… passive. You know, I could probably meditate too, if I had a fancy lotus and all." He cast a glance at the pond, wondering if maybe a lotus throne would improve his public image.
From the heavens above, Brahma, who had been watching silently from his lotus of creation, stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Indra, if you tried to meditate for more than five minutes, I'm fairly certain the universe would come knocking with a list of problems."
Indra sighed dramatically. "Why does everyone act like I'm bad at meditating? I've done it once.