An Ode to Surya Namaskar & How It Helped Me Manage My Heavy Periods

Photo by Elina Fairytale

Since it is International Yoga Day, I thought I should narrate my own experience with Yoga. I have an on-and-off relationship with it. The irregularity has nothing to do with the practice but my own laziness. I prefer walking. But each time I do Yoga, I am impressed by its benefits.

I started Yoga as a form of exercise to supplement my walking. At that time, I was unaware of the health benefits as the only reason I chose Yoga was to tone my body. I initially went through some basic asanas for beginners and then slowly shifted to Surya Namaskar. It involves 12 steps akin to providing sun salutations.

In one month of doing Yoga, I noticed the following:

  • It strengthened my neck muscles and helped prevent a stiff neck
  • My back pain reduced
  • And the most relieving of all – my periods became more manageable

I cannot comment on whether Yoga helped tone my body because I wasn’t committed enough to try it regularly. The stress is on the third point – how it helped ease my period flow.  

I recently shifted to menstrual cups, so half of my period-related issues got resolved with that step. Before Yoga, I used to have 3-4 days of heavy flow. During the months I diligently practiced Yoga, my heavy flow reduced to 1 day. My period cycle was shorter and more manageable. This is a big win for me. But mind you, you cannot do Yoga just once and think your periods are manageable for life. I have to do it at least twice or thrice weekly to see the positive effects. I skip Yoga during periods because I do not wish to subject my body to stress and stretches at that time.

If you are facing any of the problems I mentioned, I would highly recommend trying Yoga.

Happy International Yoga Day!

An Ode to Introversion and Quietude

Photo by Min An

In a world where extroverts are admired and introverts are judged, a book like Quiet by Susan Cain can prove transformative. It might be because Susan Cain herself is an introvert. No one can truly understand an introvert better than another introvert. Extroverts who have taken the time to introspect and reflect on an introverted loved one’s personality trait might also understand and respect introversion. However, they are few and far between.

For most of my life, I was told to talk more, be more extroverted, or “smart”. My introversion was considered a defect, more like a disease I needed to be cured of. I believed it to be true as no one told me otherwise. It wasn’t until I discovered the internet that I realized there are others like me. I was relieved to find people who shared the characteristics that I thought were unique to me. It provided much-needed validation. I started understanding introversion. I started understanding myself from the lens of a new unacknowledged world.

Introverted kids often feel like a misfit because of the constant judgment. Is it any surprise that they often grow up to become shy and underconfident? Nothing undermines someone’s self-confidence more than being repeatedly told they are not okay the way they are.

People find it hard to accept that I’m an introvert now that I’m an adult. I play my part well. Or rather, I have trained myself to play the extroverted part well. I have learned over the years to create this impressionable extroverted façade to gain acceptance into this world of Extrovert Ideals, all for the sake of attaining “normality”. However, I can keep up the act only for a few hours before I feel this mad urge to rush back home to re-energize – in short, to slip into my pajamas and dive into the comfort of books.

Susan Cain covers this façade (of extroversion) and more in her book. The case studies covering different aspects of introversion are a revelation. In the real world, extroversion still gets the upper hand at school, work, and every phase of life. Your competency is determined based on how extroverted you are. The book explores why a teacher, parent, or employer needs to understand the quantifiable benefits introversion brings to the table. The author explains how to reach out to the hidden treasures buried among the buzz and commotion. The solution is pretty simple: the world only needs to stop talking for a little while, introspect a bit, and try listening instead.

An Ode to the Kind Stranger at the Café

Photo by Ksenia Chernaya on Pexels

A bitter argument,

A door slam,

An empty apartment. A heavy heart.

Tears. Surplus tears.

Misery spanning the entire morning and half of afternoon,

No breakfast, no lunch; hunger killed by words as sharp as a knife,

Hunger killed by heart-numbing brashness.

Soul crushing, sky falling, world burning,

It feels like death – this beginning of the end.

Death of a person still very much alive,

Death of a marriage,

Death of love.

I push myself up, wiping away tears,

I head outdoors,

I walk aimlessly, like a lost soul,

And I spot a small café.

Self-care beckons,

I should eat something.

An order placed with gloom. Face full of despair.

Eyes down. Gaze lowered. No strength to face anyone,

No strength to smile.

A cup of coffee and a sandwich.

The order arrives,

I lift my gaze, and I smile,

The coffee has a heart on top.

A beautiful little heart.

Intrigued, I look at other cups around me,

No, this one is just for me.

In a sea of pain, it felt like a wave of comfort,

A compassionate message,

A comforting hug.

I look around for the waiter,

I spot him in a corner,

Working but eyes fixed on me.

He smiles compassionately,

I smile back,

Warmth.

A sign that the world is not so bad after all,

A sign that I’ll be okay – even if it’s the beginning of the end.

Context: The magic of kindness. A stranger I’ve never met before provided me hope on the most hopeless of days. I never met him after that. The incident happened years ago, but I still think of it fondly. I feel a cocktail of emotions whenever I remember that moment in the café. It still makes me smile.

An Ode to Supportive Strangers

Photo by Shamia Casiano on Pexels

As a kid, you’re told not to talk to strangers. But with experience, I have come to the realization that talking to strangers is not such a bad thing after all. In fact, I would say, out with the old “don’t talk to strangers” and in with the new “reach out to more strangers.”

It all started with my first blog. I received the most support from strangers.

Then came my business (now defunct). Again, I received incredible support from strangers.

At each phase of my life, I was indebted to the fact that strangers have always been more kind to me than the ones I personally know. With some observation, I realized this is the story for a lot of people. Strangers often tend to support more.

Is this because strangers are more kind? Or because more strangers than friends/relatives are on the lookout for what you have to offer? Maybe distance makes the heart go fonder, and up-close we are full of blunder? Or perhaps, it’s because strangers know how it is to feel unseen, to be treated like a stranger.

The world is vast, and people are boundless with distinct personalities and mental models. If our content does not cater to the needs of a small group of friends/relatives, instead of sticking to the archaic scripture of not talking to strangers, we should, maybe just maybe, reach out to more. The ones who would eventually become your tribe. The ones who understand your thought process and techniques.

I often feel intensely grateful to the strangers who have taken the time out to support me, often juxtaposed with an uncomfortable question, “Why are the people I know less supportive?

Some of these kind strangers have moved on, but in that short span of time, they have offered me more love and encouragement than any person I know. I am armed with the knowledge that strangers can be beautiful, and probably this is why I am more open to newcomers joining any close-knit community that I am in, whereas others appear to be wary or hostile.

I am convinced that this is why the universe sends us strangers—to play an important but short role in our life. So we don’t lose hope in our core beliefs, the ones we would love to passionately share with the world.