My yoga journey started many years ago, actually 25 to be exact. I was young and fit (I thought) attending full on, high impact aerobics classes 3-4 times a week. Slowly I began developing lower back pain and hip problems. I exercised even more! Eventually the pain got so bad that I went to see an osteopath. In those days, they were far and few between here in Sydney. I chose this particular osteopath because he was lecturing at the college I was attending at the time and I trusted him. At the college I was studying naturopathy full time.

The osteopath’s first words were: “The only exercise you are allowed to do is swimming, walking and yoga.”  I felt a lot better after the first treatment and then asked my classmates whether they knew of any yoga teachers. One of them said: “I just know the right person for you, an Indian man down in Pitt Street”. His name was Acharya. So my yoga journey began.

I still have a vivid memory of the first time I turned up at the inner city studio, not knowing what to expect at all. I had been doing lots of aerobics so I considered myself very fit. I felt quite insulted when Acharya had suggested on the phone that I join his beginners’ class. Nevertheless I obeyed and I was glad I did!

Over the coming years I attended lots of his classes and became a very regular student. Acharya was a firm believer in the classical way of teaching yoga, using traditional poses in a particular sequence. There was a beginners’ sequence, an intermediate sequence and an advanced one. I never got tired of the sequence, because there was always an extra challenge to improve the poses, hold them for longer, add an extra twist.

While we were holding the poses there was often philosophical talk about various topics, citations from the classical yoga texts and talk about life and one’s attitude to life in general.

Acharya was very critical about all these new yoga methods that started to emerge and become popular.

One of the main things I learnt from Acharya was breathing. He changed the techniques according to the season and every class started with at least 15 to 20 minutes of breathing exercises. This firm grounding in breathing techniques has served me very well throughout my life. More about that later.

I also went on a number of weekend retreats. During one of them Acharya taught us how to cook an authentic Indian vegetable curry and I use that recipe to this day. Acharya’s Vegetable Curry

During another retreat Acharya talked about the stillness of the mind and the benefits of being a vegetarian. He told us that he would sit somewhere in the forest, completely still and eventually the wallabies and other animals would lose all their fear and come really close to him. He explained how he mentally communicated with the animals, telling them that it was ok to come close, that he was not going to harm them.

I remember one retreat which was held south of Sydney, near Waterfall, near an Aboriginal healing lake. It was winter and on a chilly morning we were out there, wrapped in blankets, breathing in the chilly, crisp and clean early morning air, while performing different breathing techniques. This scene has always stayed in my memory.

Acharya often talked about the way of life in the Indian village where he grew up. There was never any leftover food, if there was any, it was given to the chickens, it was too risky to keep anything in the hot climate without refrigeration. Instead of plates the family ate off banana leaves, no washing up and environmentally friendly. I have since travelled to Singapore and enjoyed a number of “Banana Leaf” meals there.

Acharya passed away in December 2006. He is sadly missed by the yoga community here in Sydney. Yoga was Acharya’s life, he believed in it, lived it and breathed it. His passion and determination to teach the pure, authentic style he believed to be the true yoga was unrivalled. He touched a lot of people along the way and will be remembered with gratitude and respect.

Some of you may have seen the article in the Sydney Morning Herald of February 15, 2007 entitled “Teacher of the way of peace, with a light beer” by Zoe Pollock. I could relate to a lot of the things mentioned in the article.