Once upon a time — more than fifteen thousand years ago — a yogi suddenly appeared in the high peaks of the Himalayas. No one knew where he came from, who his parents were, which lineage he belonged to, or what his background was. He simply arrived and sat down — completely still, utterly unmoving.

His presence was so powerful that people from far and wide were drawn towards him. Crowds gathered, hoping for some miracle to happen, but he was doing nothing that anyone could understand. For months, he sat there almost lifeless — people couldn’t even tell whether he was breathing or not. His stillness and his very presence were beyond what ordinary people could comprehend.

People eventually grew tired and left. But a few remained — the curious ones, the seekers, and those who were ready to understand the deeper mysteries of existence.

After some time, that divine presence did something extraordinary — he planted a seed within the human consciousness, a seed whose sweet fruits humanity is still tasting today.

He did not speak in a simple, ordinary way; instead, he revealed, he made people experience. From among the gathered ones, he chose a few who were receptive and began to transmit his knowledge to them — knowledge that later became the very foundation of yogic culture.