Shiva and Parvati - Why He Smeared Ashes

She found him at the cremation ground again, smearing fresh ashes across his body.

Parvati: "Must you?"

Shiva looked up, his third eye gentle for once.

Shiva: "Must I what, my love?"

Parvati: "This. You are the lord of the universe. You could sit anywhere—Kailash's peaks, the cosmic ocean, the garden of the gods. Why here?"

Shiva: "Why not here?"

Parvati: "Because it's hideous. Because it smells of burning flesh. Because—"

She stopped. Because it scared her. The great Shakti, afraid of death. The irony wasn't lost on either of them.

Shiva: "Sit with me."

Parvati: "Among the bodies?"

Shiva: "Among what remains after bodies. There's a difference."

Shiva patted the ground beside him. After a moment, Parvati sat, her silks incongruous against the ash.

Shiva: "Tell me, what do you see?"

Parvati: "Death. Endings. Horror."

Shiva: "I see transformation. Every body burning here was something else once—a child, a lover, a king. Now it becomes ash. Soon the ash becomes soil. The soil becomes trees. Trees become breath. Breath becomes life. Death isn't an ending, Parvati. It's a doorway."

Parvati: "You could remind yourself of that somewhere cleaner."

Shiva: "Cleaner places lie. They pretend permanence. This palace will last forever, they say. This kingdom will never fall. This love will never change. I come here because truth lives here. Everything ends. Everything transforms. Even us."

Parvati: "We're immortal."

Shiva: "We're long-lived. Different thing. When Brahma created this universe, he created its ending too. Someday—unimaginably far in the future—I will dance the tandava. Everything will dissolve. Including us."

Parvati: "That frightens me."

Shiva: "It should. Fear of endings is wise. But it shouldn't paralyze. The point isn't to escape death—it's to live fully knowing death is coming. To love knowing loss is inevitable. To create knowing destruction follows."

Parvati: "How do you bear it? Knowing everything you love will end?"

Shiva: "How do you bear sunrise, knowing sunset comes? How do you bear spring, knowing winter follows? The ash reminds me. Every morning, I cover myself in endings. And then I go out and live anyway. Love anyway. Create anyway."

Parvati: "And the snakes? The skulls? The whole terrifying aesthetic?"

Shiva: "That's partly choice and partly... Partly, I like watching Vishnu look uncomfortable at parties."

Parvati laughed despite herself.

Parvati: "You're ridiculous."

Shiva: "I'm honest. The universe is ridiculous. Creation and destruction dancing together forever. Comedy and tragedy inseparable. Stay with me tonight. Watch the bodies burn. See what I see."

Parvati: "Will it help?"

Shiva: "It will remind you. That everything precious is precious because it ends. That our love means something because someday we won't exist to feel it. The mortals understand this better than gods. That's why I stay close to them."

Parvati leaned against him, watching flames consume what used to be someone's father, someone's wife, someone's child.

Parvati: "I think, I understand a little."

Shiva: "That's all anyone can do. Understand a little. Live a lot. Love completely."

Shiva held her as the cremation fires burned through the night.

Parvati: "And smear yourself in reminders?"

Shiva: "And smear yourself in reminders. So you never forget. So you never waste a moment pretending any of this is permanent."

The ashes settled. The flames died. The sun rose.

And the gods—mortal in their own infinite way—held each other against the coming dissolution.