Yoga Day and My Own Fitness Pursuits

 ‘Priti-storm hits SFV on Yoga Day.’ That would best describe the SFV Chapter of the International Yoga Day that was celebrated with great pomp and show at the Basketball ground - braving the forecast of intermittent rains. The organizers had Plan B at hand. Luckily the sky was just overcast, it was not drizzling even.

Slated for 6.30 to 7.30 morning, yoga enthusiasts numbering about 100 (?), rushed to the ground to be one up on spreading their yoga mats at vantage points so that no instruction of Priti slipped past their ears.    

Introducing Priti to readers would be like carrying coals to the Newcastle, as the expression goes. To be honest, if there were to be a popularity contest in SFV, I bet she would figure in the top ten, if not the top five. Nonetheless, for record, she is a trained Yoga teacher. She conducts yoga classes regularly to largely attended SFV residents. If the feedback is anything to go by, she is simply matchless.

A small oversight denied me the privilege to attend Yoga Day celebrations from the word go. I misread the programme as ‘6.30 pm to 7.30 pm’ when it was written ‘6.30 am to 7.30 am’.  Consequently, on Yoga Day I was getting ready for my usual morning walk. Aunty stepped to the balcony for her morning dual ritual - to water Tulsi plant and drive the pigeons away from using our balcony as bathroom - but rushed back: “I say, I can see the Yoga session on at the basketball court. You said you wanted to attend it.” I was aghast and hurried to the spot. Too late. The participants were rolling up their mats and the photo session was about to begin. Doesn’t matter, given the response of my friends who attended and along with whom I returned, and read in conjunction with the praise that poured in later in Telegram, I guess it was simply fantastic. Good job Priti. Kudos.

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My own association with yoga started when I was 10 or 12 years. In fact it was thrust upon us, the three brothers, by our grandfather. He wanted to encourage the gentleman who had just returned to Palakkad after undergoing two or three years of intense yoga course in Sivananda Ashram in Rishikesh. Given my lifestyle of ‘half-way all the way’ in any venture I undertake, I gave up yoga after a while in the guise of having to focus on my studies. I wish I had done any better in that field at least. 

Years later when in Delhi, I bought what was then a popular mail-order gadget, the Bullworker, that promised to make a Mohammad Ali out of me in one week. Months later, seeing it gather dust in the drawing room, my mother asked the maid one fine morning when I was taking shower, to dump it on the attic, which I noticed only a week later, in any case. The end.

Undaunted, again years later the stay-fit instinct in me was rekindled. This time with weightlifting. I joined a camp run one who had won the Mr Delhi championship, with muscles all over his body.  My uncompromising strict vegetarian diet notwithstanding, this went on for some time until I ventured to raise the bar with increased weight. I lifted the bar and, yes, held on to it unshaken for full three minutes. The Master patted my back. “Very good. You raised it to ankle level this time. Next time, you raise it to knee level,” and went on to attend to the next aspirant, murmuring something. Maybe cursing himself: “Oh my God, what wrong did I commit that you persuaded me to enroll persons of this caliber who, let alone not enhance the prestige, could bring disrepute to my gymnastic centre.” 

These regardless, way past retirement now, I still have not given up my workouts - not as part of any development phase but to keep Shoulder Pain, Knee Pain & Co. at bay.

Celebrating Milestone-Anniversaries

I don’t know how it is with you, but in our family sometimes it is celebrations all the way. We had four such occasions in our family.

My younger sister celebrated her 60 years of married life – she in her eighties and b-i-l just 90. They stay in a Senior Citizen home in Coimbatore, very happy, attending sloka or bhajan sessions, or discourses, simultaneously not missing the weekly new movies shown in their auditorium or occasional group trips in taxis to four or five temples in a day. The rest of the time my sister is on a disinvestment spree, selling their properties in Mumbai, Chennai and Bengaluru. 

Then comes my wife’s brother. He is celebrating his 60th birthday visiting his sons in US. On being questioned how he chose to ignore all his sisters in Bangalore on this landmark birthday, he said, “My elder son has just lapped up a job in San Francisco, and we didn’t want to miss the younger one’s Master’s Convocation in Washington DC. Not to worry, I will celebrate it when on return,” He reassured his protesting elder sisters – a sole son after seven girls to his parents. His sons had arranged a helicopter ride to celebrate, and visits to friends and relatives stretching from East Coast to the West Coast. One of the beneficiaries is my elder son and family who spent with them some time with them on their way to Grand Canyon. 

Chandra-Chandru, as the name itself suggests, is a made for each other couple.  After spending five days in Munnar celebrating their 40 years of married life they returned last evening, to perform Satyanarayana puja at home today. After retirement they lost no time to join an international time-share company, a la Club Mahendra. And if my guess is right, barring the African continent, they would have covered several countries. They take off to Australia this month-end till year-end.

In May end we too celebrated our 50 years of married life. “So how are you going to celebrate your Golden jubilee, Akka-Athimbar?” asked my Cedar sister in law. “Not much of a plan since Shankar (my elder son) and family will be here the whole of July and we have elaborate plans drawn up – Guruvayoor, family-deity temples, Coimbatore to be with my siblings, Shivamogga, Pondicherry, Vaitheeswaran kovil…. We will thus have a quiet day today - at best we will go to a temple,” we answered. “Fine, you take care of the ‘quiet’ part, and I will take care of your visit to the temple. Get ready now, we will drive you to ISKCON temple here, and then we all will go to Jayanagar for lunch,” she said – and did it.

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Not just us; the hands of my SFV friends too are full.  Let me share my experience in enlisting members to our recent Sakleshpur trip. I contacted first my Alder friend. He said: “Sakleshpur? Nice place to visit. But right now, I have three couple-guests at home. We are ourselves going on an eight-day trip to Madurai...”

The Pine friend had this to say: “We would have loved to join, but a close relative of mine is very ill and my presence in Bangalore is essential.”

My new friend who moved into Maple recently was in Vande Bharat train to Chennai when I contacted him. “Sorry sir, we have not shifted fully from Chennai. There are still some unfinished tasks.”

My Ebony friend checked his diary and said, ‘Sorry, we will be in Sringeri at that time.”

The Cedar couple, out more often fulfilling social obligations than pleasure trips, responded thus: “Sir, you know I just returned from Chennai after attending a bereavement. My wife and I are now headed in two different places – me to attend an 80th birthday, and she for a family wedding. And next month I will be in Thiruvannamalai advising my brother, on the civil side, to construct a charitable shelter facility for spinal cord patients.” 

Busy-bee thy name, retirees.

3-Day Trip to Sakleshpur

Nine of us, 7 seniors and 2 super seniors, in the age group of 61-88, left Bangalore last Wednesday to Sakleshpur, an uncharted territory to all of us. The four male members distributed the work: one, Home Stay; another,  transport; the third took charge of the entire 3-day travel, and the fourth used his contacts for special darshan at Kuke Subrahmanya. Each one excelled the other in his assignment, while the five ladies (one brought her 88-year old mother along), liberated from kitchen, had a gala time. 

Babu, unknown hitherto but a driver par excellence, drove us in his 12-seater Tempo Traveller. Goes the extra mile to please his customers.

We took breakfast at Dhruvatara, had darshan at Siddalinga temple and headed to Sakleshpur. With Aam Panna Ras made from the home-grown mangoes, the young and enthusiastic host-couple welcomed us to their abode.  

Lunch, prepared as per our selection, was delicious. Meanwhile Ravikiran, the host, drew an itinerary for our entire stay. He then drove us to his 65-acre coffee and pepper estate. Other items included coconut, mango, jackfruit, sappotta, avocado, lime…From the animal kingdom wild elephants, boars, peacocks, deers and cobras strayed in occasionally. (At the mention of cobra, one lady whispered into my ears – Can we return home please?) We then rushed to the two local temples, one on a hillock and the other facing Hemavati river, before they closed, and were back ‘home’ for dinner. That marked Day 1.

On Day 2, Thursday, after a sumptuous breakfast of the region and a packed-lunch of Puliyogare, Lemon rice and Curd rice, we headed to Kuke Subrahmanya – a long ghat section drive. The temple would close in another thirty minutes. But thanks to our friend’s connections, we were accompanied up to the final entrance to the temple after which we were left to join the melee of devotees thronging for darshan – as in Guruvayoor or Tirupathi.

On way back we shopped at Chikki (groundnut) factory and Spice Bazar. Assorted pakodas with steaming coffee awaited us back home. The ladies then went around, plucked jasmine flower, converted them into malas – one for each, one for the puja room of the host, and one for Babu’s tiny Ganesha in the Tempo Traveller for the next morning. This time the dinner menu included Malnad idli, a health-conscious trim version of Thatte idli, and tender coconut malai dessert.

Day 3, Friday, was hectic. Everyone bought his requirements of pepper, white pepper, high-end coffee powder... from the host. We finished breakfast, hugged or blessed the host/hostess, host’s mother, and gave liberal tips (by old generation standards) to the entire staff. A fond farewell from one and all. and we left for Belur Channakesava temple and Halebeeedu – the best part of the trip perhaps. 

In Belur the architectural marvel, intricacies, attention to details were simply breathtaking – be they the 48 differently, distinctively carved pillars, the Narasimha carving at the ceiling dome or, in the exterior, the tiny delicate carvings conveying messages after messages. The one that I recollect is an adolescent boy hugging a donkey passionately. Reciting a Sanskrit sloka the Guide explained that in adolescence even a donkey will look a charming girl. In another a fly was sitting on a semi-cut jackfruit enjoying his day’s meal, a lizard was all set to prey on the fly, and a snake at the back of the lizard ready to pounce the lizard for lunch. He recited yet another sloka to explain the food chain concept.

The architecture in Halebeedu was destroyed mercilessly by the invaders. No puja is performed on any defaced murthi. Hence Halebeedu is just a monument, unlike Belur which is a temple with daily puja. The meticulous planning of Halebeedu is remarkabale. It took 20 years to erect a miniature, and 103 years to complete the real one. Yet another marvel is a 35-feet long one-piece stamba that is placed on a plane surface without any plastering. One could see a thin layer of space between the stamba and the plane surface on which it stands. 

We reached Bangalore at 7 pm; shook hands and asked one another, “When and where next?”  Yes, with a good home-stay host, good food, an excellent driver, a good vehicle, and participants on same wave-length, the whole trip could be summed up: Swarg Se Sundar.