I went for my first yoga class in two weeks, after managing to strain both the IT bands of my legs. It had been one of those days at work and I was fighting hard to focus on the asanas and breathing.
There was a particular pose that Dr Kajal, our teacher, wanted us to do: lift our hands up in the air, look up and bend backwards till our hands touched the floor. He would stand by our side to support our backs. One by one, the ladies of the class would reach the floor successfully and then sweep back up again. Until me. When it came to me, I reached backwards midway and my back started tightening up. I shook my head to indicate that I couldn’t go down any further and he helped me up, before moving on to another student.
When everyone had had their turn, he came back and stood next to me.
“Try,” he said.
“I cannot!” I exclaimed.
“You can!” he said, smiling.
I lifted my hands, took a deep breath and bent backwards. Before I knew it, my fingers were tapping the ground and I was moving back straight up again.
At a time when my confidence is at its lowest, when I am stuck on a road with no directions or maps, someone’s belief and faith in my ability, even if it’s in something as simple as a yoga asana, is comforting. After all, if he believes that I can do it, why shouldn’t I believe in myself?