Asanas are deceptive in their form, they appear to be finished in one final pose. Shape assumed and then dissolved. Like water.
Winter is melting into summer, rapidly. The water in my matka is just the right degree of cool to quench my thirst. The pool waters provide buoyancy and resistance as I swim. My thoughts flow one into another until they bear no link to the original thought. I feel water everywhere…
Free flowing and stagnant.
Life sustaining and suffocating.
Terrifying deluge and gurgling brook.
Thundering waterfall and the silence of a mother’s womb.
Meandering rivers and gigantic waves.
Baptism waters and bearer of ashes.
And then there is pralaya…