
body. week 8.
date. 2024
location: banaras

When I first met Ritesh, I could barely walk.
I clearly remember that night, in early November, when I limped through the large gates of Kashi Dharmpeeth Rameshwar Math and was guided into the handsome peach-coloured building by a gaggle of eager young students.
Everyone stopped to stare at me. I could hardly blame them. I must have been a sight to behold; a young white man with the gait of an old frail woman. I was escorted into a modest office where I met my guru for the first time.
I felt terribly out of place, but Ritesh welcomed me with his ubiquitous joy and patience. I shared with him my story. I had been infected with a bad bout of chikungunya which had kept me in bed for over a month where I silently (and sometimes not so silently) battled burning fevers, freezing chills, racking coughs, searing pains, dark emotions, sudden deafness, arthritic joints, atrophied muscles, and all the rest of it.
As bad as the illness itself was, I was finding the path to recovery equally trying. I’d been to half a dozen doctors and swallowed more pills than I’d care to recall. My swollen joints made it difficult to walk, hold things, or stand; and my weakened muscles begged me to just stay in bed. And then there was my broken spirit.
After six weeks of chikungunya, I was barely recognizable, merely a shadow of my former self.
And this is how I arrived at Ritesh’s doorstep. Humbled but eager.
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We began with simple movements. At first, I couldn’t put any weight on my wrists and could hardly bend my ankles, so we practiced within my limits. A small turn of the leg. A slight tilt of the arm. An upraised arm. Or two. Back to basics. Practicing with Ritesh helped me discover my calm. And with it, my hope. He reminded me to take the time – it takes only a moment! – to notice and appreciate the smaller movements, the simpler sensations.
Each session was split into four parts: asanas (positions), pranayama (breathwork), dharana (meditation), and studying the Yoga Sutras.
In his patient and gentle way, we began to slowly – day by day – revitalize my body and my mind. It was gentle work, but it also required consistent dedication. I was now a man on a mission. Each morning, I’d wake up at 5:30 to meet Ritesh at Ravidas Ghat, a large and tranquil setting overlooking the holy Ganga river, or as the locals prefer to call it: Ganga Mata (Mother Ganges). I’m told that, unlike other gods, Mother Ganga has no fearsome or destructive character traits. She accepts and forgives us all. Om Mitraya Namaha.
I’d often arrive early, taking a few minutes to soak in the sunrise, the water, and the tranquil beauty; allowing my gratitude to Ritesh and to Nature to blossom all around me.
Each morning, I’d lay my broken body down beside the her eternal banks, and stretch my tired limbs up to the rising sun. Side-by-side, we begin our Surya Namaskar.
We practiced each morning for nearly two hours. The best two hours of any day.
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Over the coming weeks and months, Ritesh (and yoga) helped me in ways that a legion of doctors and therapists had failed to. Yes, they helped me walk again, and even run! They gave me back control of my limbs, and even my attention! Once again, I could walk without effort and move without pain.
And for that, I will always be thankful.
But Ritesh showed me more than how to care for my body: he helped me feel joyful, even when it hurts. He helped me rediscover the world, even in my 30s. He helped me recover my confidence, even at my most vulnerable.
In the process, I not just returned to health, I brought something new along with me. A new guru. A new friend. And a new appreciation for the beauty that is sometimes found in the darkest of places.
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Has yoga changed me? I’m not sure. But it’s showed me that some things don’t need to be changed. Some things are perfect exactly the way they are.
atha yogânuåâsanam
yogash citta-vrtti-nirodhaha
tadâ drastuha svarûpe ‘vasthanam
Now, the teaching of Yoga.
Yoga is to still the waves of consciousness.
Then, pure awareness can abide in its very nature.