After 2-3 years of doing yoga,

rather being enrolled in a yoga class,

in fact, The Yoga Class,

which gave us a feeling of doing something rather self-enhancing, just by the very fact of being enrolled,

even if we actually managed to go to class only twice a month on an average, instead of 8 times,

Pu and I gave up the class, The Class, rather reluctantly,

because of personal and political reasons,

both of them, i.e. the personal and the politics being on the teachers’ side, and not ours.

Then came a year of vegetating, actually letting the fungus of gloom grow on one, whining again and again that we had had to give up The Yoga Class.

But as New Years go, another friend said, you have no option but to exercise,

and I took out the book, The Book, by the guru of The Yoga Class, and read it in bits and pieces.

Now The Book, lies on the table, giving inspiration. The blankets and belts are out.

I have realized that my reluctance to exercise comes from my reluctance to change clothes again and again through the day. So now I go straight into yoga after my morning bath in my yoga costume, and then change into other clothes.

I think of My Yoga Teacher, try to remember the corrections he made on my postures,

and I feel a bit like Karna, who is one of my favorite characters,

anyone who has a will to study despite all odds, is,

and that feels as empowering as actually going to the, The Class.