Yo'Duh'

5th September 2016

These days I sleep with my curtains open so that the morning sun hits my face and wakes me up at the crack of dawn. It had been the rainy season since the last 3 months so my luck had been good. But its been running out slowly and steadily. Anyways, I was up at 6 30 because the sun was peeking through the clouds in the distance just as I was peaking out at the world through my sleep. I was like, my god, this is beautiful. So I setup my camera precariously beyond my grill and began clicking some amazing mysterious, hazy photographs of the early morning New Bombay. 15 or so clicks I was satisfied. Two turned out decent.



Anyways, I was like 'lets headstart this Monday', which is a holiday for everyone here in Maharashtra. So I picked up the yoga mat and headed to the downstairs garden for some suryanamskaars in the rising sun.

As I headed to the slit of light that fought its way through clouds and buildings, I encountered Pawar (uncle) rotating his arms vigorously. Uncle in brackets because we occasionally play tennis together and any of these uncles dont like to be called so because it makes them feel old even though their game is just as good as mine, and sometimes better. This again is based on assumption as I dont think I want to begin a conversation where I ask them if I should start with their name with the suffix 'uncle'. Its too much of a sentence when I want him to move quickly across the court and return a ball that I cant/wont be getting to. Picture this..we (me and Pawar Uncle) are stranded on the same side of the court and a wily old opponent has caught us both off guard. And I scream "Pawar UNCLE, yours!!". So then Pawar Uncle is just rooted to the spot because I've called him uncle, indirectly addressed his age and yet asked him to fetch a ball that I cant/wont be getting to. Lip service much? Point lost. Mostly the set too as both our morales are down now. Me for not getting the syntax right on court, and him, just wondering which Patanjali product he should consume next.

So Pawar, who's eye I was hoping on not catching, opened his, and caught mine. Again, I was avoiding this early morning salutation because under more agreeable situations, we greet each other with smiles. His, toothy grin making his eyes crinkle. Mine, I dont even know except that my teeth are showing on most occasions, because the lip sometimes get stuck on them as it dries up so quickly and then its an effort to conceal them again. Graphic smiles. So after these 'really glad to see you' smiles, we shake hands, though his hand shakes dont match the intensity of his smile. He say 'Tennis aate nahin ho aajkal'. 'Haan, andheri jaate rehte hain' (as if that automatically expains it). It does because he nods undertandingly. 'Subah kitne bajey kheltey hain aap' I ask him, keeping the conversation going. 'Saadey Saat' he replies. I smile sheepishly. One, because its the time I consider appropriate as the time to wake up so that a nagging guilt doesnt follow me the whole day, and Two, he said 'Saadey" which I know means 7.30. It wasnt Paune aur sawa, which lie in the corridor of uncertainty. I know I missed a badminton date just because I couldnt figure the difference and was too proud to google Paune/Sawaa.

So then I tell him "Uthenge, to aa jayenge". He smiles back. Conversation over. We go on with our respective lives never concurring again, till I do wake up at SAADEY SAAT and report to the tennis court.

So You can see why I was avoiding conversation. But anyways, after our eyes caught eachothers, we exchanged those smiles as described earlier. Then he asked what I was doing. I glanced once at the yoga mat by my side and then replied 'Yoga'. He asked me "Kya Yoga". I looked at the streak of fading sunlight now and said "Suryanamaskar". He sniffed, or what ever you call a sharp exhalation from the nose when someone says something ridiculous but going HAH! is too rude. He said 'Aa jao, main sikhaata hoon tumhe'.

The thing I've noticed about Yoga aficionados are that if you claim to know/do yoga, you must know the name of what you're doing. Like the Ashtanga, Kapaal and other things. If I would have told him I do the one where I hold my right ventricle of my nostril with the thumb, inhale and then exhale through the other side, and then repeat the procedure with the first two fingers blocking the other ventricle, he would have 'sniffed/snorted' again and said "Kapaalbhaati' with that all knowing smile.

So I submit. My yoga mat, which was place in that temporary streak of sunlight, now shifted. The sun does that sometimes. So we rotated our hands 60 times, then just from the shoulders and my limbs were burning. In the distance I saw a lone guy with a football put up cones for his and his friend's drills. I envied him. Then we did the star jumps for a while.

Next Pawar joined me on my mat, facing me. Now its not a very big mat and the lack of space between us was made even more evident when during breathing exercises, he was very vigorous with them but also alternated them with a burping routine. At first I wondered if I was to follow suit but then he didnt ask me to, and I didnt. But it was really close. I kept my eyes open and observed nature that early morning while he was deeply involved in his breathing. Two birds were getting their daily quota of early worms (the best kind). A caterpillar was moving in mid air, maybe a foot above the ground. I was amazed by this sight, and then, discovering a  glistening thread hanging from a tree branch 30 feet above, this amazement remained intact. There was enough time to wonder also if the caterpillar was maybe trapped by this one steely string as it would rise and then fall by a couple of inches, not really going anywhere.

Anyways, by now, we had both opened our eyes and looking at eachother. He said "pehle pehle tough lagta hai". I nodded in agreement. He said 'Ab sher jaisa awaaz nikaalo". My face reflected I wasnt sure. He quickly understood that and joined his hands infront of him, parallel to the mat. Then as he opened them to their respective sides, he let out a human lion roar. I didnt check if that had attracted attention but knew that it was my turn. Mine was obviously many decibels lowers, unsure and very 'kharaashy' in its utterance. Not the king of the jungle for sure. He sensed my reluctance and lets out another humanly lionly roar. Now people must be hanging from their windows. I glanced and gave another unsure 'roar'. He gave one last finale, with his hands following motion. He then told me there are many other animal poses and sounds. I nodded denoting I knew. He also said then we are supposed to laugh loudly, but for that, a bigger group is needed. Not for the lion roaring mind you. They are known to roar in twos or threes max, depending on how communal he feels.

This concluded our yoga session, after which he told me to come for badminton. I said 'Haan' but in an unsure vein. After he left to consume Avla, reetha and other patanjali products along with milk, I sneaked in a few OOMMMMs of my own. Happy with its resonance with my spinal column, and that the lone guy doing football drills was now packing up his cones for the lack of company or maybe they were over anyways,  I headed home, hoping to be the first one to read the papers.