When towelling off after a vinyasa class, it’s easy to forget that yoga is a thousands-of-years-old Hindu institution. But there are informed ways to honour its roots – and deepen your own spiritual transformation, too – writes Neha Tandon
The lights dimmed as I stepped on to my candlelit mat and smiled at my zenseeking neighbours. After 14 years of yogic training in studios in south-east Asia and alongside my family, I was so excited to try out one of the influencer-frequented fancy studios I’d seen all over social media. I closed my eyes, inhaling my arms up to the sky in tadasana (also known as mountain pose), thanking the Hindu god of the Himalayas as I stretched up on to my tiptoes, a bit closer to the divine powers.
But as the class began, my heart dropped, then pounded out of my chest as the first sun salutation was interrupted by an abs circuit with the chant ‘Om Namah Shivaya’ layered atop Ariana Grande’s God Is A Woman. I turned to my left and right, scanning the room to gauge whether I was the only person having this visceral reaction. Is this okay? No one else is reacting. Should I? Don’t get me wrong – Ilove me some Ariana, but not in conjunction with what translates to a Hindu chant worshipping the god Shiva. I can’t be the only person who thinks it’s strange to meld the name of a Hindu god, a historic and sacred symbol of hope, with a pop song, surely. Every inch of me wished to fake a bathroom break and leave. But the model minority in me breathed through the discomfort. Spoiler: I didn’t end up using the other two classes I purchased.
Understand the issue
For most of my life, my two-bysix-feet of mat space has been my sanctuary. Sure, as an Indian woman, I’m used to the classes I’ve taken in the western world coming with an obvious and expected side of cringe – from people mispronouncing ‘namaste’ to the out-of-place buzzing of ‘om’, which is traditionally a purifying sound used to open and close a prayer (which yoga can be).
But as I headed from the studio to the train station that day, all I could think was that my ancestors must have been rolling in their graves. The same words I had chanted at a temple with my family since I could speak were now being appropriated to accompany a top-100 pop song. Far be it from me to make any assumptions, but I can only guess that most of my fellow students didn’t know they were chanting sacred mantras.
Of course, I know that no one starts a yoga studio, attends a class or even buys a ‘Namaste in bed’ shirt with ill intentions. In fact, I believe there are usually some really positive motivations driving anyone wanting to make yoga a focus. But when a way of life rooted in one of the world’s oldest religions morphs into a lifestyle option that alienates the very people whose culture gave rise to it, that’s problematic.
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