Sukhasana, my usual pose
in that green cosy corner
in a way, my private corner Pranayama, my favourite dose—
a big fad these days—
fully absorbed in the in-and-out relays…
Suddenly my nostrils breathed in
some foreign matter
a very soothing, stimulating odour…
As I opened the chink of my eyes
I was flabbergasted, devastated…
A lean, lanky, lovely lass
swinging her arms up and down
her beautiful pointed breasts
heaving, creating havoc with every lift…
Bad, I scolded myself
concentrate on your breathing—
the golden rule of Pranayama—
if you wish this hour’s satisfaction…
As I closed my eyes again
her breasts started their ding-dong dance
more vigorously than what I had seen with my naked eyes…
Devil in me!
Isn’t it evil?
What evil!
Why should she stand here
right in front of me
and disturb my blissful yoga?
Well….
But what is more fun yoga or rasa?
Thought of Vishwamitra…
I opened my eyes
stared at her to my fill
her every pose gave me a new thrill
her cuts and curves
ecstatic kill
wished the play should go on for ever…
Strange!
She didn’t mind my infatuation
played on the strings of her body with admiration
maybe, she too enjoyed my stare
after all, she had spent a lot of time
money too, on her make-up and care…
These few fleeting moments
had given me more joy
than the years of yoga
or should I call it shoga?
