I was sitting alone by the seashore.
Before me, waves were rising and falling — the timeless rhythm of the ocean.
With each breath I took, I began to feel a deeper rhythm within myself — a
quiet harmony.
And then, something shifted.
In a sudden, overwhelming moment,
I felt as though the entire environment around me —
the ocean, the sky, the breeze, even the sand beneath me —
was participating in a vast, cosmic dance.
As a physicist, I already knew the science:
that everything around me — sand, rocks, water, and air —
was made up of constantly moving atoms and subatomic particles.
Particles that are always in motion, always interacting —
creating, colliding, and dissolving.
I also knew the Earth’s atmosphere is continuously showered
with high-energy cosmic rays — invisible messengers from distant galaxies.
Working in the field of high-energy physics,
these were not new ideas to me.
But until that day,
they had only existed for me in the form of charts, graphs, equations —
in the sterile language of science.
That day, sitting quietly by the sea,
those abstract concepts became real.
They came alive.
I could see the atoms in the elements
around me —
and even in my own body — dancing.
I could feel the rhythm of that dance.
And in that silence, I could hear its music.
In that profound moment,
I realized what ancient Indian sages meant
when they described Shiva,
the divine cosmic dancer.
This dance — of creation, destruction, and transformation —
was not just mythology.
It was physics.
It was the universe itself,
expressing its rhythm through energy and motion.
It was, truly, the Dance of Shiva.
— Inspired by Mr. Fritjof Capra
