THE WEIGHT WE CARRY
Parks in Mumbai are now open a few hours in the mornings. For me, nothing sets the tone better to a day, than an early morning walk amidst nature. No airpods, just the sweet sounds of life. I return home to the mat then, my torso making bridges, my back arching like a cobra, my breath soft, my mind for the briefest moments, calm.
Having gained some ‘pandemic weight' in the past year, I am not as comfortable in my clothes as I used to be. My flexibility is compromised too. But what bothers me most is how I feel. When vrikshasana or the tree pose becomes difficult to hold, it points to the ragged jumble of thoughts, the inability to focus. When the stomach bloats up even after a simple, home-cooked meal, it speaks of unexpressed emotions held in the solar plexus, weakening the core and disrupting the digestive system.
Conversations with friends and family reveals a common thread. In their attempt to feel better, some have resorted to intermittent fasting, some have struck up an enmity with rice, sugar and fats; one dear friend has gone extreme, weighing her food and recording every bite and nibble. On the other side of the spectrum are the ones who cannot even find the motivation to move, much less cook and eat healthy. Their comfort comes from Netflix and Zomato. We are still in the midst of a pandemic and everyone has their own way of dealing with it.
The disrepair though shows up, not just in wider frames but in postures, overgrown beards, dishevelled hair, improper dressing. Lounge wear is touted as the new ‘work wear’ and people, as usual, are buying into such fads. I did too, but soon realised that the elastic on pyjamas strangely expands with expanding waistlines.
Apartments in Mumbai, even decent ones, do not provide much room for movement. But more than a mere lack of activity, what has decidedly gotten to us is the forced detachment from community, the lack of respite that previously came from socialization. It is said the physical weight we carry, the dis-ease we feel, is often a manifestation of our troubled thoughts and unexpressed feelings. So while I move more and eat fewer chicken nuggets, working on my mental stamina and emotional strength has taken precedence.
After two rounds of vaccination, we might feel safer, but overcoming the mental repercussions will certainly take time. As I wobble a little less and hold my tree pose better with each renewed effort, I remind myself that ‘yog’ means ‘union’; union with self, with nature, with the divine. Once that is understood, everything else becomes clear.
