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The next morning, I was woken up by the repeated high-pitched barking calls of the Black-Winged Stilt. It was perched upon the roof of the house. My eyes opened. My head was heavy. All the events of the previous night surfaced in my mind and I woke up with a start. The house was padlocked. The first impulse was to run away from the place. But curiosity got the better out of me. I mustered some courage and said, ‘Nimmi. Are you there?’ My calls didn’t get any response. Slowly, I moved a little ahead. My shivering hands slowly extended towards the padlock. In two minds whether to open it or not, my fingers were just a few millimeters away from the it. There is no point in running unwanted risks I thought and aborted the idea of opening the door of the house. I swirled around only to find Nimmi there. She was walking upside down. Seeing me she rotated liked the hand of a clock and came to normal position.
‘I had been for a walk. Hope you had a sound sleep child. My hovel didn’t cause much of inconvenience to you, did it? She asked and had a clattery laugh. I was damn scared. The Black-Winged Stilt began to belt out its ugly cries again.
Nimmi smiled and looked at it in great admiration.
‘He liked birds’, she said.
NIMMI SPEAKS
I was twenty-three then and had returned a year back with a Master’s Degree of Yoga in my tow. It had been a year since I had started my own yoga class in Uttarkashi. Yoga studio was a word not in vogue then. My father was the Chief Engineer with the Public Works Department, Uttarkashi division. With his contacts, I rented terrace above a community hall. I got it for a very nominal rent. All thanks to my father. The community hall was a regal building built during the British era. A nicely carved spiral stair case from the tower in front of the hall connected to the spacious terrace above it. The terrace was covered with blue sheet in the recent times. It offered a magnificent view of the Uttar Kashi town. You could spot the Kashi Vishwanath temple, the bathing ghats and the entire bazaar. At one time, community hall was the tallest building in the town. This place was more than ideal for my classes.
My father said in his usual heavy baritone, ‘Nimmi, this is all that I could manage. Now it will be up to you to work hard and build a reputation of your own. I can’t help you with that.’
Soon, I had a steady stream of students in my class. The classes were only in the mornings. The hall would be closed at this time and hence, there would be no disturbance of any sort. The only visitors to the building, apart from my students were the birds of various colours and feathers. The songs of birds made the experience of yoga even more peaceful. This place was ideal. Majority of my clients complimented me that the songs of the birds were soothing to their systems, and it helped them unwind. I started keeping a bowl of grains in the corner of the terrace to attract more birds.
That day I had spread my mat. I checked my watch there were fifteen minutes more for the class to begin. The students usually dropped at the exact time, a few would be late and some may skip the class all together. Initially, that irritated me. But after a year, I got accustomed to it.
‘Your job is to teach them. They aren’t school going children to be disciplined,’ my yoga teacher had told me when I told her about my predicament.
So, I was waiting for my students that day. For some strange reasons there wasn’t any bird in the sight too. So, I decided to utilize the time that I had for my practice. As a teacher you seldom get time for self-practice. I got on to the mat. I stooped, then placing my head in my intertwined hands on the floor, I slowly raised my legs from the ground to the sky in Shirshasana.
I closed my eyes. It is always advised to keep your eyes closed in Shirshasana. The excessive blood flow to the head otherwise causes damage to the eyes. With closed eyes, I contemplated on my body. It was in perfect balance and I could feel the anahat chakra getting activated. I stood there almost ten minutes. Then I felt some human presence. I thought, it was one of my students and continued my practice. Shirshasana is what draws students to yoga. Seven out of ten students come with a dream of performing picture perfect Shirshasana. I do it at the drop of the hat, and that is what attracts students to my class. ‘These days marketing is required in any profession. You have to device your own ways,’ my teacher would say. So knowing well that someone was around, I continued to do the headstand.
It takes at least three years to perfect Shirshasana. But who would explain this to the students who want to do a successful headstand within a period of two weeks? My teacher would say that it was no body’s fault, and as a teacher it was my duty to cater to the needs of the student. If the student wanted a crash course of two weeks, I should oblige them by designing it so. No one was bothered with the fact that at the end of the course, they would not be in a position of doing Shirshasana without a support. All that they wanted to hear was that if they continued regularly practicing it with someone’s help, they would be able to do it with on their own without any support.
But whoever is able to perform Shirshasana, knows that it is absolute bliss. You seem to have an absolute control over your body. After staying in the position for more than ten minutes, slowly I lowered legs over my head to form the halasana. That is when I heard the click of the camera. I became conscious, for no student of mine every clicked me without my permission while performing the asanas. I came down to my normal position with a jerk, which I tell my students is a strictly no no.
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