Yogi-isms, 2

We are lying on our backs, our bodies twisted up like pretzels.  “Touch, touch, touch!” Swami is yelling.  “Touch nose to knee!!!”  I am struggling to follow his instructions, and it feels like fire is shooting up the backs of my thighs.  “Touch, touch, touch!” he shouts, striding barefoot through rows of huffing and puffing students.   “Must touch nose to knee!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him stop in front of an unlucky Italian.  “What you are doing?!” Swami demands, looking down his nose.  “Are you awake?!  Hell-oooo?!?!?”  The man is twisted up like the rest of us, but his nose is far, far from his knee.  Swami kneels down and looks at him closely.  “Try touch nose to knee!”

He makes his demand in a slightly irritated tone, but I know that a smile is lurking nearby.  The Italian stretches with all his might, grunting hard, but still falling short.  His nose is abysmally far from his knee.  Swami looks at the beak-nosed man sideways and says practically, “Come now!  You have big nose- you can touch!”IMG_1770

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