Friday, August 16, 2013

Me, Myself and Yoga

My nephew would do the Vrksasana everytime any one of my family members mention my name.

He associates me with my practice, and is not the only one.

I am the only one in the family who practices yoga. I am also the 'only one' in a lot of other things.

Like ... I am the only one who...

- Has a different view on religion, as in.. irreligiously different view.
- Lives life somewhat precariously.
- Loves bikinis and the sun, and does not want fair skin.


My practice brings me to that special place, where.. I can be anyone. A place where I can fuck it all and just be... whatever I want to be.

Of course, most of the times I would be struggling on my mat, even to perfect my hanumasana, or my chaturanga. But, there is that weird.. feeling of twisted, achievement and satisfaction of being able to ... inflict self torture on myself in a yoga class.

I know. Twisted.

Gluttony for punishment, sucker for pain.

Self inflicted ones.


I guess... being twisted yogically is .. ok?

With Love, Namaste.


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