Rudra's POV
My voice felt like it was trapped under a landslide. Every time I tried to draw a breath, the sheer "presence" of the Being before me made my lungs feel too small. I was a grain of sand staring at the sun, yet the sun wasn't burning me; it was keeping me warm with a love that felt older than the stars themselves.
"Umm… sir, I… I am… my name is Rudra Rajput," I finally stammered. My knees were still buried in the snow, and I didn't dare look up fully. "I… I have idolized You since I was a child. It was my only dream to see you once. Just once. But… it feels heavy, my Lord. Seeing you like this… in a place that feels like out of the world. Am I… am I dead?"
As the question left my lips, the massive, incomprehensible pillar of Shiv Linga encased by light began to shift. The scale of the universe seemed to fold inward, and the blinding radiance softened into a form that my human mind could actually process.
They stood there, barefoot upon the sacred snow, which didn't seem to melt beneath their touch. Around their right ankle rested an anklet shaped like a serpent, its form intricate and alive. It was eating its own tail- the Ouroboros, the eternal cycle where the beginning and end meet at a single point. A cloth of tiger skin was wrapped around their waist, held in place by a waistband that shimmered with a silver-like sheen. It was not truly silver, yet it carried a presence as if every soul in the universe had willingly offered itself to become part of their adornment.
I looked at their arms. On the left, a serpent was shaped as a bangle. Skulls were joined together as a garland around their neck, among which rested Vasuki Naag.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't distinguish Vasuki's colour. It seemed to shift endlessly, refusing definition, as if the serpent itself were made of shifting shadows and light.
They had three eyes. Two rested in their usual place, calm and observant like the deep oceans. The third eye at the centre of their forehead remained closed, marked by three horizontal ash lines, for which I felt an unspoken relief. A crescent moon adorned their head, and water flowed continuously from their matted hair, cascading like an eternal river that birthed life itself. In their hand, they held the Trishul, the famed trident, with the Damru bound to it.
Their body was chiseled, sculpted as if by heaven itself. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that They Themselves were heaven. Sacred ash coated their form, giving them the timeless and unmistakable appearance worshipped across ages.
"No," they said. Their voice wasn't a sound; it was a vibration that settled the humming in my nerves. "You are not dead, Kid. You are safe. You are a guest in a realm where time does not breathe."
They reached out a hand; a hand that had created and destroyed galaxies—and gestured for me to rise. "Walk with me, child. The snow here is soft, and the path is long."
I stood up, my legs shaking like a newborn calf's. To my utter shock, Mahadev began to walk casually, not like a king on a distant throne, but like a father taking a stroll in a quiet garden. I fell into step beside Them, keeping a respectful distance of two paces behind, but They slowed Their stride until I was forced to walk side-by-side with Them.
Third Person POV
The scene would have shattered the mind of any theologian or scientist. There, amidst the ancient, whispering cedars of Kailash, the Supreme Being walked alongside a boy in a light blue T-shirt and cargo pants.
Mahadev looked at Rudra with an expression of profound, hidden affection. To Rudra, this was a terrifyingly grand first meeting. But to the One who exists outside of linear time, this was a moment they had already lived a trillion times. They saw not just the nervous boy, but the soul that would eventually become as close as...
They knew the adventures Rudra would face, the trials they would watch him overcome, and the destiny that had been written in the stars long before the stars were even born.
"Tell me, boy," Shiva said casually, twirling the Trishul slightly as they walked past a tiger that bowed its head low.
"What was the last thing you were reading on that smartphone of yours? The one you held so tightly even as space began to tear?"
Rudra jumped, startled.
"Oh! My phone? I… I was just reading a story, Prabhu. About a character who has all affinities, um, I mean, he could use every element and wants to protect his people. I'm sorry, but it's a bit silly, isn't it, to talk about novels in front of you."
Mahadev laughed, a sound like silver bells ringing in a temple.
"Why, silly? Imagination is the first step of creation. I am the God who is also idolized as the God of Dancers and Actors; do you think I do not appreciate a good story? You, humans, have such vibrant minds. You create entire universes just to escape the one I gave you."
Rudra looked down at his feet, feeling a bit more at ease.
"I just always felt like I didn't belong in my time, Lord. The world back home… It's so loud. Everything is about money or machines. There's no… no magic left."
"Magic never leaves, it's just hidden, child. People just stop looking for it," Shiva replied. They stopped at the edge of a frozen lake that glowed with an inner blue light.
"Today, you walked the usual distance to reach your home. You prayed to Nandi. You asked for excitement. And here you are. If it isn't magic, what is it?"
Then they turned to face the boy fully. The gentle smile remained, but their eyes grew deeper, reflecting the birth and death of nebulae.
"So, what do you say, I can send you back now, child. I can put you back on that dusty road outside the temple. You will walk the remaining few hundred meters, you will enter your house, eat your dinner, and continue your studies. You will live a long, peaceful, ordinary life. Is that what you want?"
Rudra's POV
The question hit me like a physical weight.
Peaceful. Ordinary. Normal.
The thought of going back to the bus stops, the college lectures, and the quiet village life suddenly felt like a cage. But at the same time, a wave of intense guilt washed over me. I was standing in front of the Almighty, the source of all existence. I should be asking for world peace, or for the salvation of all souls, or for the wisdom to be a better person.
But I was human. And I was greedy.
I wanted a boon. I wanted a gift that humans of the past had received by praying and finally meeting with God. The shame made my face hot. I felt unworthy to even stand in their shadow, let alone harbour secret desires for adventure. I looked at the snow, unable to meet their gaze.
Mahadev didn't need him to speak. They were amused in the way a parent is amused by a toddler hiding a sweet behind their back. They could see it, read in his thoughts, what he wanted.
They had existed before the concept of 'meaning' was even thought of. To them, Rudra's 'greed' was just the natural curiosity of a soul they had created to be bold. They knew that even if he asked for something impossible, they would give it to him. They were not called Bhole Shankar because they were naive; They were called that because their heart was so vast that they could not say no to a sincere devotee.
"Speak, child," they said, their voice a warm caress that dispelled my fear.
"There is no judgment here. I do not look at you as a judge looks at a criminal. I look at you as a father looks at a child who is too shy to ask for a toy. What is it that your soul is screaming for?"
I steeled my resolve. I clenched my fists, took a deep breath of the freezing, holy air, and looked up into those three eternal eyes.
"My Lord," I said, my voice finally finding its strength.
"I don't want to go back to the world of machines. Not yet. I want… I want to go back. Way back. To the beginning of Earth. I want to see the world when it was raw and full of power. I want to see the era when the Gods walked the land, when the air was thick with mantras, and history was still being written in the soil. I want to witness the Truth of our past with my own eyes. Can I?"
I held my breath, waiting for the heavens to strike me down for my arrogance. Instead, the silence of Kailash grew even deeper, and the smile on Mahadev's face widened.
"A witness to the beginning," They mused, the crescent moon on their head glowing brighter. "A bold request, but very fitting for you."
"Yes, Prabhu, it's been my dream for a very long time. I want to see and live in the stories that were written and told to every single person living in India. About the time when celestials roam the world, and Gods walk amongst mortals." I whispered.