Twenty- five Seven

There’s no such thing as a Free Yoga Class

January 30, 2013
I have been doing Yoga ever since I was 17 years old. Of course in those days it was not cool to do Yoga especially as a teenager for only hippies and old ladies did it. But I did Yoga in my mother’s hope that I would grow tall. My mother is one of those optimists who believes that mango trees can yield coconuts if you believe hard enough. Unfortunately, I didn’t grow tall but actually embarked on a life long weight gaining program having set in motion the pattern of Start & Stop exercising which yields momentary weight loss and permanent weight gain thanks to its sporadic occurrence.

The past few years though, I’ve been pretty consistent with the the Yoga at Home Villa and then with Sri across the road. The effects of Yoga at Home Villa were visible in my slim waist but I had to abandon this class for sheer logisitical reasons (it took 10 minutes to get down by lift, fifteen minutes to walk there, add to that arriving ten minutes before class to get a firm bolster and mat, plus half an hour before and after class getting things organised).

So when Kay put in a word for me at Sri’s class I was thrilled to find a place closer to home. It also helped that the pace of Yoga was slower and gentler – how slow and gentle I found out only yesterday when Kay talked me into going to a free Yoga Vinyasa class.

Kay is one of those Yogaholics who even dreams about the asanas and has the enviable body of a teenager despite being a golden oldie. Unlike us who moan and groan through five Suryanamaskars, she does them effortlessly and as for body twisters like Marichasana – her bones just seem to melt! So in the hope of getting even half way there, I thought it would be worthwhile going for the Vinyasa class especially when it was for free.

At 10.30, Kay picked me up and we went on to Churchgate to attend the session at Well N Trim Class which we had to access from the side entrance. After filling a form we went inside the studio which had mats laid out in readiness for the class. An instructor who reminded me of the PTIs who used to hang out at the Naval Pool, first made us ” Stand on mat” just as we got comfortable after the initial chanting of OM, and unexpectedly barked out ” Run three times” , a command which suddenly had us stomping clockwise round the room. Just when we thought it was over he made us run three more rounds the other way. Before we could even stop the wobble in the knees, he told us to do a Suryanamaskar to a count which was double of what I was used to……….and the one became two and ended up as twenty!

With an accent that was distinctly rustic it was hard to follow his directions as he didn’t name any asanas but just made us go into them with breathe, stres hand over head, on toes, knees ninety degrees and other such confusing directions. Surprisingly, the only thing he said correctly was ‘ Put your hand near your butt!” Before the half hour was over, I was seriously dripping sweat and panting so hard that I just gave up before my heart did. I was amazed to see the other ladies plodding on even though one of them felt “nauseatic”.

I waited outside getting my breath back when the others came out for a toilet break. I was told that the next half was more relaxing with flowing movements so I joined back only to find that the movements did flow albeit at a faster pace than what I was expecting. By this time I didn’t care anymore about my performance which was flagging when chance glance at the mirrored wall showed me what a saggy bag I really was.

Though Kay coped with the class, we both vowed that this Vinyasa class was not for us and thanked God for Sri and her old fashioned Yoga class!!!

Photo credit : GO INTERACTIVE WELLNESS
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What’s that?

January 28, 2013
Yesterday I got a phone call from an excited Pia who told me that Dee and I had “killed” the dance. She was of course referring to the dance that we are doing at her daughter’s wedding next month. For a moment I was disturbed but when she told me that “killed” in this generations’ lingo meant ” nailed” in our parlance, I was reassured. Many of my friends have started picking up slang from their children , making it difficult for oldies like us with no kids at home to understand what they are saying.

And with SMSs taking over from regular phone calls, it is even harder to understand their acronyms……. Just when I was thinking that we need to devise our own code,I get this email from another friend which led me to think that we DO have our own language updated for today’s text messages.

Providence or coincidence ?

Please memorize before texting.
Young people have theirs, now Seniors have their own texting codes:

* ATD- At the Doctor’s

* BFF – Best Friends Funeral

* BTW- Bring the Wheelchair

* BYOT – Bring Your Own Teeth

* CBM- Covered by Medicare

* CUATSC- See You at the Senior Centre

* DWI- Driving While Incontinent

* FWIW – Forgot Where I Was

* GGPBL- Gotta Go, Pacemaker Battery Low

* GHA – Got Heartburn Again

* HGBM – Had Good Bowel Movement

* LMDO- Laughing My Dentures Out

* LOL- Living on Lipitor

* OMSG – Oh My! Sorry, Gas

* TOT- Texting on Toilet

* WAITT – Who Am I Talking To?

Hope these help. GGLKI (Gotta Go, Laxative Kicking in!)

On another note, very often SMSs don’t work for seniors –

By the time you get to the phone, it stops ringing

You need your spectacles handy to read

You need to press the right key to reply

You need to identify the person who sent it to you!
Hope you have a good week!
Strangers in the night

January 27, 2013

You meet a random person and start talking… What happens next?

Strangers in the night exchanging glances
Wond’ring in the night what were the chances
We’d be sharing love before the night was through

Was it coincidence or the powers of the Universe playing its usual game thought Gopal as the familiar voice of Frank Sinatra crooned through the babble of sounds at the party. He looked nervously at his watch. She was late as usual and he was trying hard to keep his cool. Sheela was always sloppy about keeping time and ever since she changed her job her time sense was getting worse – particularly when it came to going out.

“Chal,” he thought to himself. ” I think I’ll get myself a drink ,” he said making his way through the crowd.

“One large whiskey please,” he told the barman.

” Will that be a single malt or blended, sir,”

“Oh!,” thought Gopal, ” So this seems to be another of those parties with all stops pulled out! Single malts seemed to be the rage these days, with even Black Label being relegated to the ranks of also rans.”

“Do you have a Laphroaig?” the only name he could remember

“Sure, sir,” said the bar tender and turned around to fix his drink.

“Unh, unh, ” said someone clearing his throat and Gopal turned round to face a handsome old stranger. “You’ve got good taste lad,” said the gentleman as he put forward his glass to raise a toast.

“Cheers!” said Gopal convivially, his eyebrow raised questioningly.

” Col Thapar, old chap,” said the gentleman profering his hand.

Gopal shook it firmly and wondered how long it would be before Sheela showed up. In the meanwhile though, the old man showed no signs of moving on………..

“So, young man,” said the Colonel. ” What do you do?”

” I’m in the Merchant marine,” said Gopal. ” I’m sailing as the Chief Engineer.”

“Aah,” said the colonel, ” That explains why you look lost out here. Coming ashore after a long time?”

“The usual sir, ” replied Gopal, ” I said six months on an six months off. This is my off time when I socialise with the land lubbers.”

“Oh yes,” said the Colonel. ” I remember how it is to come back to civilisation after months at the border. I really used to look forward to it. Imagine spending day after day hundreds of metres above sea level. And in the icy winters too. Do you know it takes at least twenty four hours to get anything up to the post from the nearest Army depot? And our poor soldiers, they have nothing to do but stare out into the whiteness looking for infiltrators. Sometimes I think they welcome that activity. “

” Yes, I know that feeling. There is a kind of disconnect isn’t it? I know we make land fall every now and then but sailing for days on the endless sea can get to you. And going ashore is not always fun. I remember the last time I was in Russia I was actually mugged.”

” Good God,” said the Colonel, “How did that happen?”

“Me and my mates had gone down to the Marine club for a spot of dinner and while returning to the ship we were accosted by some thugs. It seems all that they wanted was our passports – that very desirable American Visa.”

” Well, in comparison a posting at Kargil during peace time seems really dull and boring.”

Just then a svelte young woman came up to the Colonel, “there you are Papa,” she scolded him, “How many times must I tell you not to talk to strangers?”

“But we’re not strangers, he’s Gopal, a Chief Engineer who is on six months’ leave.”

” Yes Dad, ” she said indulgently, ” and you’re the King of England.”

” Of course not!” protested the old man, ” I’m your father and don’t you dare talk to me like that,” he said beligerantly.

” Now, now,Papa, calm down,” shushed the young lady slowly taking him aside whispering a soft apology to Gopal as she shepherded her father away.

“Sorry,” broke in Sheela’s shrill voice, ” I got held up in traffic.”

” No problem, sweet heart, ” said Gopal offering her a kiss. ” I was having a great time chatting up with this old man,” he said pointing out to the gentleman’s retreating back.

” Oh my God!” said Sheela ” You were talking to God himself!!! How come you know him?”

“Don’t talk rubbish. He’s not God; he’s Col. Thappar.”

“What nonsense!” said Sheela, ” he’s not! He’s Prateik Mehta a k a as God, the head honcho of Blue, the hottest ad agency in town. At least he was till he met with a nasty accident last year. Poor guy, he lost his wife in that ghastly accident. Some say he lost his memory too……..”

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