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I don't have to talk to you about Yoga. Just type 'yoga' in Google and go. And you will find about 30,000,000 sites.
That is a curious number: it happens to be precisely the number of gods in Hinduism at the last count when I was a kid. I used to hear a song about "mukkoti devatalu" (3 crores of gods).
Don't ask me to name them all. I can't. I can at best manage about 50. And that includes local deities like Batukamma and Maisamma.
That is what I like about Hinduism. It is so laissez faire. You have ample multiple choice...or freedom not to choose...like the latest Supreme Court directive to include in the voting machine: "None of the above"
If I am asked to be reborn...and why not...and given a choice, I will choose Hinduism. Which, in spite of our ardent Raambhaktas, is no 'ism' at all. The idea is freedom and the ultimate goal seems to be Freedom (aka Liberation, Mukti). Suits a born-lazy chap like me.
Take for instance my own extended family:
Father was an ardent devotee of Lord Raam. After his retirement he lived for 25 years and everyday he used to recite the Daasharathi Shatakam. Mother is a devotee of Lalita...she must have recited the Lalita Sahasra Namam ten thousand times by now...and still going strong. My didi's hubby was an atheist, till he had a heart attack, after which he turned turtle and became a staunch devotee of Satya Sai Baba of Puttaparti. Being an IAS Officer he had a special visa into the sanctum, topped by a personal interview. Indeed he offered to take me there but I declined politely...I am too undisciplined.
This reminds me of a campus lady of about 35 at IIT KGP who, when invited to join a bhajan party, said:
"Not yet...I haven't committed sins enough"
My next sister lives in Tirupati and regularly travels uphill with her hubby once a month to visit and pray to Lord Balajee...her hubby declines to recognize any other god. My next sister, after marriage, became a devotee of Shankaracharya of Sarada Peeth at scenic Sringeri in Karnataka. My next sister is a quiet devotee, I think, of Hanumanjee...she recites the Sanskrit equivalent of Hanuman Chalisa. My next sister is a follower of her mother. My last sister is inscrutable...I don't know her enough.
My F-i-L lived in Maharashtra and turned a devotee of Shirdi Sai Baba. My wife inherited it from her father and it was a treat to watch her unobtrusive faith. My M-i-L was too much with herself to betray her propensities...but I, surely, was not one of her gods...although it is said in our culture that the son-in-law has to be propitiated as the tenth planet after Rahu and Ketu..."Jaamaata Dasama Graha:"
Coming to myself, I was too lazy to be a devotee of anyone till I found a man lazier than I. And it was a pleasure. His name is (Late) Ramana Maharshi and he not only didn't go on vacations from his place...not even for a single day...but he refused to speak even.
So that is the sort of panorama of our homely pantheon.
Coming to yoga proper, I didn't hear the word till I was 19 when I got my M Sc Degree. In our convocation they distributed, for free, a copy of the Holy Bible and a copy of Gita. I read both of them desultorily.
And found that every one of the 18 chapters of the Gita was titled this or that yoga. And I liked the variety as usual.
But there was no hint of much bodily contortions anywhere in the Gita...it was all about work, worship, knowledge and liberation.
Father used to get up early in the morning when I was a kid of 6 and perform some exercises and force me to follow him. The one I remember is the Surya Namaskar. It was a breeze for me then since I was supple. I can't do it now without breaking a bone or two.
We didn't have yoga in our school. We had PT which consisted in jumping like monkeys with legs stretched and hands up and about. I was looking to the end of the class to go forth and play kabadi.
But when I was about 45 and my son was into the Kendriya Vidyalaya I heard of yoga at school and some asanas (postures) which they had to practice.
About asanas I heard in my childhood. Ours was a floor-sitting culture and occasionally we were a dozen kids cramped in a line along the wall side by side each with a leaf-plate for food in front of us. And we were asked to sit tight in what was called the Padmasana (lotus seat) which called for doubling up our legs and folding them into knots. I guess it was to save space and also to prevent upsetting our glasses of water with our dangling feet and make a mess. I was an expert in 'double padmasana' (folding both legs on to the opposite thighs). I can't fold even one now.
About this padmasana there is this cute story:
There was one very old woman (like me) called Avvaiyyar in Tamilnadu. She was too old to sit on the floor without lounging her feet in front of her...arthritis maybe.
But she was a mighty devotee of Lord Shivjee. She was once transported to Mount Kailas (now in Nepal), the abode of Shivjee and Parvati (who conjoined into one piece). And she squatted on the floor facing Shivjee with her legs extended and feet pointing towards Shivjee. And Shivjee was pleased with her for undertaking such an arduous journey in her old age.
But Parvati was not..she felt insulted that this old hag was stretching her legs pointing her feet towards her Lord (and herself, naturally). And protested to Shivjee who asked her to keep quiet. But, women being women (sorry!), Parvati scolded Avviyyar for pointing her feet towards her. And Avviyyar said, sorry, and shifted her legs south...and lo and behold...Shivjee (along with his ardhangi, nee Parvati) was rigid-rotated South, intact along with his throne. And Avvaiyyar said, sorry, and shifted her legs East...and Shivjee turned East. And so on and so forth till Parvati got tired of her giddy spins and said, sorry, to Avvaiyyar saying:
"Now I know there is no place nor direction in which Shivjee is not there!"
Beware! You, Raambhaktas!
************************************************************************************************************
That is a curious number: it happens to be precisely the number of gods in Hinduism at the last count when I was a kid. I used to hear a song about "mukkoti devatalu" (3 crores of gods).
Don't ask me to name them all. I can't. I can at best manage about 50. And that includes local deities like Batukamma and Maisamma.
That is what I like about Hinduism. It is so laissez faire. You have ample multiple choice...or freedom not to choose...like the latest Supreme Court directive to include in the voting machine: "None of the above"
If I am asked to be reborn...and why not...and given a choice, I will choose Hinduism. Which, in spite of our ardent Raambhaktas, is no 'ism' at all. The idea is freedom and the ultimate goal seems to be Freedom (aka Liberation, Mukti). Suits a born-lazy chap like me.
Take for instance my own extended family:
Father was an ardent devotee of Lord Raam. After his retirement he lived for 25 years and everyday he used to recite the Daasharathi Shatakam. Mother is a devotee of Lalita...she must have recited the Lalita Sahasra Namam ten thousand times by now...and still going strong. My didi's hubby was an atheist, till he had a heart attack, after which he turned turtle and became a staunch devotee of Satya Sai Baba of Puttaparti. Being an IAS Officer he had a special visa into the sanctum, topped by a personal interview. Indeed he offered to take me there but I declined politely...I am too undisciplined.
This reminds me of a campus lady of about 35 at IIT KGP who, when invited to join a bhajan party, said:
"Not yet...I haven't committed sins enough"
My next sister lives in Tirupati and regularly travels uphill with her hubby once a month to visit and pray to Lord Balajee...her hubby declines to recognize any other god. My next sister, after marriage, became a devotee of Shankaracharya of Sarada Peeth at scenic Sringeri in Karnataka. My next sister is a quiet devotee, I think, of Hanumanjee...she recites the Sanskrit equivalent of Hanuman Chalisa. My next sister is a follower of her mother. My last sister is inscrutable...I don't know her enough.
My F-i-L lived in Maharashtra and turned a devotee of Shirdi Sai Baba. My wife inherited it from her father and it was a treat to watch her unobtrusive faith. My M-i-L was too much with herself to betray her propensities...but I, surely, was not one of her gods...although it is said in our culture that the son-in-law has to be propitiated as the tenth planet after Rahu and Ketu..."Jaamaata Dasama Graha:"
Coming to myself, I was too lazy to be a devotee of anyone till I found a man lazier than I. And it was a pleasure. His name is (Late) Ramana Maharshi and he not only didn't go on vacations from his place...not even for a single day...but he refused to speak even.
So that is the sort of panorama of our homely pantheon.
Coming to yoga proper, I didn't hear the word till I was 19 when I got my M Sc Degree. In our convocation they distributed, for free, a copy of the Holy Bible and a copy of Gita. I read both of them desultorily.
And found that every one of the 18 chapters of the Gita was titled this or that yoga. And I liked the variety as usual.
But there was no hint of much bodily contortions anywhere in the Gita...it was all about work, worship, knowledge and liberation.
Father used to get up early in the morning when I was a kid of 6 and perform some exercises and force me to follow him. The one I remember is the Surya Namaskar. It was a breeze for me then since I was supple. I can't do it now without breaking a bone or two.
We didn't have yoga in our school. We had PT which consisted in jumping like monkeys with legs stretched and hands up and about. I was looking to the end of the class to go forth and play kabadi.
But when I was about 45 and my son was into the Kendriya Vidyalaya I heard of yoga at school and some asanas (postures) which they had to practice.
About asanas I heard in my childhood. Ours was a floor-sitting culture and occasionally we were a dozen kids cramped in a line along the wall side by side each with a leaf-plate for food in front of us. And we were asked to sit tight in what was called the Padmasana (lotus seat) which called for doubling up our legs and folding them into knots. I guess it was to save space and also to prevent upsetting our glasses of water with our dangling feet and make a mess. I was an expert in 'double padmasana' (folding both legs on to the opposite thighs). I can't fold even one now.
About this padmasana there is this cute story:
There was one very old woman (like me) called Avvaiyyar in Tamilnadu. She was too old to sit on the floor without lounging her feet in front of her...arthritis maybe.
But she was a mighty devotee of Lord Shivjee. She was once transported to Mount Kailas (now in Nepal), the abode of Shivjee and Parvati (who conjoined into one piece). And she squatted on the floor facing Shivjee with her legs extended and feet pointing towards Shivjee. And Shivjee was pleased with her for undertaking such an arduous journey in her old age.
But Parvati was not..she felt insulted that this old hag was stretching her legs pointing her feet towards her Lord (and herself, naturally). And protested to Shivjee who asked her to keep quiet. But, women being women (sorry!), Parvati scolded Avviyyar for pointing her feet towards her. And Avviyyar said, sorry, and shifted her legs south...and lo and behold...Shivjee (along with his ardhangi, nee Parvati) was rigid-rotated South, intact along with his throne. And Avvaiyyar said, sorry, and shifted her legs East...and Shivjee turned East. And so on and so forth till Parvati got tired of her giddy spins and said, sorry, to Avvaiyyar saying:
"Now I know there is no place nor direction in which Shivjee is not there!"
Beware! You, Raambhaktas!
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