Shiva, the great God, fearsome, austere, rapt in unfathomably deep meditative contemplation, third eye like a dormant volcano, a coiled serpent waiting to attack, capable of unleashing cataclysmic forces of destruction that would make nuclear bombs seem like sparklers. Seated in flawlessly erect lotus posture atop the frigid, foreboding snow-clad Himalayan peaks, streaked golden by the first piercing rays of the emergent, eternal, pristine Dawn, against the backdrop of distant silver-lined clouds, punctuated by the occasional flock of chattering birds. Shiva, the supreme destroyer, indispensable part of the trinity, with his terrifying trident demolishes not only the cosmos and all in it so that it can be regenerated in an endless cycle of birth and rebirth, but also all our fears, doubts, jealousies, negative thoughts and petty vices that cloud our consciousness and prevent us from attaining our true potential as human beings.
p.s. Shiva painting by my wife Kamini.