Yoga – unfurling the ballerina dream

Was I nimble-footed to flow in a melodious rhythm without the fear of crashing on the floor or cracking my bones? Nope, I have never braved it(Had I, it would have been the ‘balance that dainty glass of wine on your head while your body plays up to a cocktail shaker!' challenge). Moreover, I treasured those 206 bones of my body than cherishing a Ballerina’s dream! I was born with two left feet, you see. But that did not stop me from admiring Ballerinas, who appeared like pretty butterflies, literally floating in air! It is just that they remained afloat like a pipe dream, ever! So, from where did the whimsical Ballerina conjure up at the Yoga centre, where I was waiting for my turn with the specialist?

 Call it human nature or the quirk of fate, repressed dreams of childhood pop up their heads mockingly, in the most unexpected circumstances. So, the ‘pretty ballerina dream’ was playing truant, where I was sitting tight, trying to wiggle my toes and feet, to overcome the numbness that had set in(disc-related spinal condition). The air-conditioning in the waiting room did not help the cause much. I felt like the denuded tree, whose branches would snap any minute under the freezing conditions. Adding to the effect, were the macabre looking faces around, in that waiting room. They reminded me of characters from Adam’s family - with a solemn pledge to remain frost-bitten with not much of a smile to cheer things up!
So, when I was called in, I walked with the effect of dragging frozen feet into the healing room! The doc greeted me with a smirk  ‘You are able to walk, you are not in pain, you are just paranoid’ It jolted me and helped thaw the ice a bit.

<The remark made me feel like the way a waddling penguin would have felt, on hearing a prophecy “You would soon have HAPPY FEET, that would give peacocks a run for their dancing fame!”>

When I settled, rather slouched in front of my doc cum therapist and future yogacharya, I was pleasantly surprised by the the appearance of my healer. Contrary to popular images of yoga gurus, with loose garbs, overflowing beards, and a general unkempt visage(what we call the Vairagi look), he was a stark contrast! Immaculate, with a sternness that would straighten a trembling aspen(had he set his eyes on the money plants, creepers, they would know to mind their dilly-dallying ways), he looked at me, as if he were observing a specimen, the invertebrates class of the animal kingdom! (I was spineless, figuratively speaking, with the shock absorbers of the backbone, spewed out, as a much-too-mulled-over chewing gum). As he briefed me about the condition, I gathered that the yoga therapy would work around asanas and stretches that would ease the muscles and nerves of the back! Sounded simple! My prior knowledge of yogic philosophy reassured me that I would not have to be performing feats like that of bats(headstands and sorts). Well, as the actual session began I realized that there is a wide gulf between philosophy and reality.  

Day one was a revelation about how rusted my entire body system was. A simple asana, brought in a such a twist for those split seconds, that my bones started to creak and the muscles wrung. It was like Kumbharkharna(that sleeping giant, brother of demon king Ravaan from the great Indian epic) being woken up from deep slumber. The giant had protested then, and so did my body. I wanted to scream out in pain, but I refrained from entertaining my audience( the assistant therapist, the doctor and not to mention, the patients waiting outside) further.  Well, I tried to demonstrate as much grace as possible(I did not knock down the props, nor did my tightening grip on the seaters break it).

With subsequent therapy sessions, I learnt the importance of breathing. As my Yogacharya put it “breathe, as if you are letting go”. It helped my body loosen up, which was crucial for enhanced blood flow to the affected regions. With increased focus on breathing and relaxing, the pain that was unbearable to start with, settled down like a disappointed nincompoop, which had failed in its endeavours! I could hear the sound of my own breath – much like the ‘Aum’- the primeval energy of the universe. No, no I was not experiencing anything transcendental for, I could faintly hear my healer's comments about my body alignment. The more I relaxed, the deeper was the feel of opening up- like every cell, every pore was harnessing the regenerative energy within. And as each session progressed, I got nearer to perfecting the asana. I no longer felt like a bundle of nerves, but light like a paper boat floating in the vastness. The breathing also helped me become expansive(not referring to expanding waistlines, but breaking the barriers of my mind). It was like a current of energy running through the ocean that i was a part of, as much as it was a part of me. A sense of harmony seemed to set in, at the same time!

Must I confess that the philosophy was somewhere touching down to reality? Yoga revealed, what I embodied, the immense potential of the body to heal itself. My acharya’s repeated emphasis on perfecting the asanas was a way of aligning the body system to help invoke its healing power. His  patient guidance and wisdom were to me like the banyan or Ashwatha( I know, I know the tree conveys the look of mendicants with unkempt hair, who have been practising austerities for eons). But in the roots of the great Ashwatha, I was slowly embarking on a journey of awareness(about my body), a new level of consciousness. Though my health condition put me in a state of dormancy (with the bed rest and what not), I embraced yoga as the chrysalis for change – a transformation of my being.

And so, as I waited eagerly for my next session to begin, I could feel hope fluttering in my feet, as I twiddled my toes to check for numbness(it does not strike often these days). Just then, a ballerina floated before my eyes, with beautiful wings, much like a butterfly that has come out of its cocoon!!! I was tempted to catch her but better sense prevailed-butterflies are meant to flit by, after all, in search of blooms. While musing thus, I was called in. I let go of the ballerina. But, as I braced up for the healing, I knew that yoga would help me unfurl the bloom within. I assumed the asana, every bit conscious, recalling the gentle rap on the knee, by my Acharya, for getting the pose right! And, i was confident that my 'shriveled' spine would become the stem of that new bloom, a new life, and a new beginning.

<So folks, drink in the "nectar" from this blog, whilst I conjure up ballets and imagine myself as the attractive bloom for the ballerinas.  For those of you eager to disentangle me with snippers and tweezers, there is a 100-year-old banyan tree en-route my house. We can meet and settle scores there!>