Apprehending the vast influences of yoga and seeing the craze of the westerners towards India and yoga, I became a wanna be yoga learner.
In those immature years of my life, I wanted to be a solo female traveler who also did yoga. I wished to bend myself one-eighty-degrees on the sultry Goa beaches and the summits of the mighty Himalayas alike.
After all, the social media pictures of yoga teachers and practitioners over the internet kindle enough narcissism that you forget the real purpose of yoga (if you ever knew) and only admire the overwhelming curves on the trending photos.
Yoginis look like the epitomes of Urvashi from the Indra palace. Maybe we can compare the Yogi to Shiva who is said to be the first-yogi or the Adiyogi?
Those yoga pictures look as perfect as the postures held in the frame, but remember that pictures don’t tell the entire story.
Yoga is not about a few jazzy posts on Instagram or Facebook. And I kept this in mind when I went to do yoga in Dharamshala.
Yoga, a word derived from the Sanskrit word Yuj meaning join, means union — of the mind, body, and soul.