The diary of Bhaskar Sharma: Yoga to be kidding me
Bhaskar Sharma is a regular 35-year-old corporate slave. You’ll get to know him better over time as we bring you excerpts from his diary – because “life isn’t easy for middle-aged men.”Updated: Apr 29, 2017 23:53 IST
Bhaskar Sharma is a regular 35-year-old corporate slave. You’ll get to know him better over time as we bring you excerpts from his diary – because “life isn’t easy for middle-aged men.”
When god made man, what did he include in the design document? Lots of body hair? Scratching? Inserting finger in nose? When he made woman, surely the first feature he thought of was emotional blackmail, before moving on to tears and melodrama.
‘Bhaskar, for my birthday I don’t want any gift from you. I just want you to start doing yoga every morning.’
This was my darling wife Preeti on her happy day last month. It’s another matter that in the end she got that diamond ring as well. Women never lose. We should have sent a women’s cricket team to the World Cup. Or Bangladesh.
In reality, I have long been following yoga. It is a part of my life. My favourite asana is the Shavasana. Unfortunately Preeti doesn’t let me sleep enough. I believe I am also great at the Dhanush asana given how frequently my mom keeps reminding me to not slouch in the shape of a bow while sitting. Then of course, just like with yoga, I have long been getting myself in awkward positions with comments that mostly only appear funny to me. The other day Preeti asked me if the tea was good and I responded with this brilliant on-the-spot composition.
“This tulsi chai that my missus made is just wow
Today when I went for a drive I honked at a cow”
I am so funny. But what can you do when the missus decides to invoke emotional atyachaar. Suddenly my morning routine changed. I would get (or be given, to be precise) my morning tea only after having done the Kapaal Bhaati ten times, with instructions to increase the count to 50 by the end of the month.
I think yoga is great for Indian people. All the hours we spend stuck in traffic can be put to good use doing meditation and breathing exercises. This will also help us keep our cool when a stupid biker with a phone to his ear and helmet hanging from the elbow decides to suddenly overtake from the left while blowing a horn that sounds like an A380 taking off. Imagine a day when Delhiites laugh it off when someone rams into their Maruti Swift, instead of shooting them dead.
Our politicians are already yoga proponents, routinely getting pedicures to enjoy the warm taste of their wrinkly feet inside their mouths.
‘You wait and watch. Even your hair will start coming back.’ My mom threw another incentive for the breathing exercises. People say saas-bahu don’t get along well but in our household they just seem to tag-team against me all the time. It’s like China and Pakistan bonding over their contempt for India.
Today morning Preeti showed me the Surya Namaskar, which really is a most innocuous name for a deadly exercise. Whoever does namaskar like that? The other person would fall asleep if you take ten minutes just greeting them like you’re in a mythological.
She completed it gracefully, looked at me like a hunter targeting an innocent deer and I knew it was my turn to get punished. Boss, they should call it the Iodexasana, given how much of it I have rubbed on my joints since then.
Maybe I’ll just stick to the breathing exercises. I could use the hair.
Atulya Mahajan is the author of two books, his latest being a political satire titledDemocrazy
. He tweets as @amreekandesi
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From HT Brunch, September 13
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