Mount Meru was full of golden shine, glinting spirals that spilled out to the many grounds on which he rested. Warm and charitable rays of light roll from his towering figure in foamy waves towards the expansive sea-line reaching across the universe. At his feet lazed the Himalayas, a prince who looked up at his kingly father from Earth. The son liked to turn his gaze upwards, watching as the King stretched from Earth to the star-ladden abode of the Gods and Goddesses. The young mountain could not see as Meru did the lines between each realm of the physical, metaphysical, and the spiritual. Mount Meru cast both light and a wise eye onto all things.

Mount Meru holds many of the Gods and Goddesses dear to his heart, for his friendliness was the only thing that exceeded his size. Once, he had been great friends with Vayu. Vayu is the God of Wind, controlling streams of air in elaborate patterns and gusts swelling with immense power. He rules not only the wind of the mortal plane but is also titled as governing the high atmosphere of the Gods' air up at the high peak of Mount Meru. He once enjoyed the mountain's company, building a friendship that relied on companionship and understanding as two great rulers of two realms merging into a shared space of the heavens.

It was a friendship which crumpled under the strong weight of bellowing jealousy and the whispered words of a Vedic sage, called Narada. Narada is one of the seven supreme sages, sharing news and stories across the bountiful Earth. He spoke with wisdom and his word was trusted heavily by the ears. Not even the God of Wind could refute what he told.

But there was a twisted humor to the mood of Narada. He enjoyed spreading chaos as much as Vayu enjoyed spreading the clouds, blowing open the white curtains to reveal the sun. Narada offered bites of fruit poisoned by discord to the Gods and Goddesses, to whoever he could convince to take a bite.

One evening, Narada saw Vayu relaxed on a column of clouds, drifting low on the hazed fog of a lake. The evening was calm with still waters and quiet trees, mindful of the resting God lying in their field. Narada knew of Mount Meru's long-lasting friendship with Vayu, and though he harbored not dark desires, the sage was filled with the compulsion for humor. Narada strode up to Vayu, who opened an inquiring eye to find the wisdom of a Vedic sage glistening in a grinning mouth.

"Narada, what wisdom shall you bestow upon the mighty Wind God?" Vayu smiled. His voice sounded like a breath, a soft exhale pouring out of open lips. The leaves shivered on their trees. Narada leaned against a rock, the bottom of which the water lapped.

"Sweet Vayu, have you not seen the towering shape of Meru? I come to warn your humble crown of the threat your friend does pose to your own supremacy. Have you not seen that towering shape grow ever-more?" Narada purred. His voice was a silken crow, a thin needle sewing threads of doubt upon the fabric of Vayu's mind. The Wind God paused, surprised at the boldness of Narada's words. It did echo with the sounds of a warning that the God would be mindful to heed, and Vayu trusted Narada's fickle heart easily.

The next morning, Vayu approached the slumbering mountain who he once called a brotherly friend and swallowed seas of air. Meru awoke at the powerful blow of Vayu's puffed-up cheeks, startling at the surge of freezing air rushing against his sides. Mount Meru did not understand the green-tinted breath which raged upon him, but had no room to protest or question under the weight of Vayu's jealousy. Any attempt to call out was silence by the screaming of the wind as it raged. Though the strong gusts streaming, no one saw the tears sliding down Vayu's cheeks. Both Gods suffered the broken-heartedness of a lost friendship, even if it remained unseen in the face of the Wind God.

Unrelentlessly, Vayu blew coldy against the body of Meru with the threat of tearing the mountain down to a height below the Wind God's realm. Although Garuda, the pet of Vishnu, swooped down to protect the mountain with his mighty wings, Meru was plundered with the heaviness of a friendship betrayed.

For a year Vayu blew unrepentantly against the mountain. Garuda remained valiant for many months, but even the bird of Vishnu could only last so long in a battle of air against the Wind God. The bird closed his wings, only for a moment, but that was all Vayu needed to send a final blow against Meru. The mountain moaned with such grief and pain that the Himalayas groaned with him, all the mountains taking up the cry of the King. The summit of Mount Meru, once a glimmering gold hue paled as if it had turned to snow, and splintered with Meru's voice. His peak tumbled from the mountain's top, breaking and crumbling down into the sea.

The peak rests there, now, as Sri Lanka and as a symbol of the pain of broken friendships.