How I leant to prostrate in front of swamijis

The place where I work is blessed by visits of several swamijis who come to make a courtesy call on my boss. Each time a swamiji comes, we get a call from the boss' secretary to come down and take his blessings.

But I have had this mortal fear of Swamijis since childhood. I used to believe that they have a hotline of communication with God and I was always worried they will sneak to God about my shortcomings- so much so- that the very sight of a Swamiji in saffron clothes and wooden sandals triggers unnamed fear in me akin to facing your headmaster who is reviewing your performance in the examinations. Mentally I will be going over all the recent things I have done to see whether they will pass muster or will they be considered sinful. I will try to justify that the balance sheet is not too bad; that the good I have done compensates for the sin I have committed. 

One can understand what kind of effect this thought process has on the physiology- aptly described as 'fear reaction'- it leads to dry throat, clammy hands, a racing heart trying to break loose from its moorings, and a gridlock in the neural network of brain. This translates into an intense desire to shift oneself miles away from the impending interaction (flight reaction). Even after I became an adolescent and after that an adult, this fear has not come down ( I agree that this progress to adulthood was automatic with no effort on my part and it is also possible that all parts of my body have not matured equally well- with the upper storey probably lagging behind). In addition the art of prostrating in the presence of Swamijis did not come naturally to me. 

Now you understand why I came down from my 6th floor office with tremendous trepidation to tentatively walk down the flight of stairs; amble across to the adjacent building and finally climb up the stairs to reach the boss' office. By that time my skin resembled that of some one who had a bath with salt water ( one of smelly kind) and there was some mad guy hammering away at my rib cage from inside. 

As I approached my boss' office, one could literally see the Swamiji's blessings overflowing and oozing from under the partially closed door, along with the smoke and fragrance of the burnt scented sticks.

I was quickly ushered into the queue of people waiting to get Swamiji's blessings. I watched silently how the others performed. QuicklyI made mental notes of all the steps involved. Step 1. Move in front of the Swamiji. 2. Lock your knees and fall down taking the weight on your hands. Step 3. Quickly stretch your hands forwards and gather them in a straight line with your spine. Step 4. Lift your head partly and gaze at the feet of the Swamiji. Step 5. Get up quickly, collect the 'Prasad' the Swamiji has to offer to you and come out of the room before you die of hypercapnia ( a condition caused by excessive carbon dioxide in the blood which can occur due to involuntary breath holding). 

For experts like our public relation officer, this art of 'prostrating' comes reflexly. But for a novice like me, these steps were as difficult and complicated as an especially difficult movement in a Russian ballet. I was reminded of a law some English man has described (or is it an American?)- some one whose name rhymes with Barfi-' If a thing has to go wrong it will go wrong'. Although there were only 5 broad steps involved, you must understand that there was tremendous thought jam in my mind- the poor brain is straining hard to bring order to the chaos. 

Suddenly my hot sweat turned into cold sweat and my limbs started to freeze and movements became clumsy like a man pulled out from a freeze box. Instead of falling in front of the Swamiji like an olympic athlete, I fell like a block of ice and skid forwards onto his legs and crushed them against the sofa. One could feel shock all round but no one uttered anything. 

I was surprised by the persistent benevolent smile on the Swamiji's face. No reflection of the pain impulses being sent up to the brain from his legs attempting to convert the smile to a grimace. I kept wondering how is it possible. 'Crush his legs' - I did- very effectively too and he is still smiling. I could think of the following explanations.

1. Something to do with the constant use of the hot line with god.

2. Training in theology and matters related to god also trains them to freeze their smile- a la the politicians who keep smiling and showing 'V' sign while being removed to prison.

3. Diabetic neuropathy affecting the legs leading to the conduction along the nerves being slowed down to the speed of regular post service (compared to e mail or Whatsapp). In this case we may find the grimace coming up a few minutes later.

However, smile he did for a long time. Whew, the worst is over- at least what I thought. I only needed to get up, collect my 'Prasad' and walk quickly out of the room before the milling crowd inside the room burst out all at once in laughter. I could see the struggle on their faces to control the laughter. I did not see any face with sympathy reflected on it. 

All at once, I realised that while sliding forwards, my mental compass was not at its best. My trajectory was not strictly towards 12 clock- due north. It was towards north-east. In the process my legs were facing due south-west  and firmly lodged between the legs of a chair, which I promptly toppled while unravelling myself. That would have been still OK, but for the fact that there was somebody sitting on it. Once all the legs (wooden and human) were disentangled, I wearily trod outside. Some one ran behind me  and handed me the 'Prasad'. I was very distraught and was desperate for an extra dose of the celestial blessings. So I opened the packet and put it in my mouth in a flash. There was a look of horror on the face of people in front of me. I attributed it to the rather uncouth behaviour on my part of not even touching the 'Prasad' to my eyes and praying before gulping it in one go. Some one rushed and asked me - 'Did you swallow it'?- I said,' yes of course'. I added, 'go ask inside if you want'- clearly annoyed that he wants a share of my 'Prasad'. Next day I excreted a unaltered round plastic box with sacred ash. Fortunately for me I did not chew on the 'Prasad'- I was in such a hurry to get the maximum mileage our of the celestial blessings.

Humans are good learners. I am not particularly quick but pass of as an average man. So I practiced in the house the art of falling down, prostrating, getting up, collecting the prasad and walking away without issues. But issues - I did have.

At the immediate next opportunity, I did all my moves very well like a Russian ballerina and walked out of the room with a triumphant smile. I even checked what the 'Prasad' was before popping it into my mouth. 'That all was not well'- I came to know from my the way my wife looked at me- a special looks only wife's have- a combination of sheer exasperation (this guy is incorrigible), anger (how many times I have to tell him) and inevitability (I know it will happen). I looked at the dark soot on my white shirt and nodded in understanding. 

Times have since changed. I have become experienced now and started to give lessons to juniors as well. Now I developed the following routine.

1. Time: zero- Call from Boss' secretary- 'Swamiji sighted'.

2. Time: +60 mintues- Call from Boss' secretary- Swamiji ready to give blessings.

3. Time: +60 minutes and 10 seconds- Observers such as a fly on the wall (more likely mosquito on the wall)- can observe a fast moving object that descends the 6 storeys followed by a cylindrical object. Both seem to be flying in the air.

4. Time: +61 minutes- This procession will reach boss' room.

5. Time : +61 minutes and 01 sec- The cylindrical object is opened and unfurled in front of the swamiji and reveals itself as an imported yoga mat- blue in color, washable (yes, machine washable), has cushioning property and is anti skid as well.

6. Time: +61 minutes and 02 secs- 'Yours faithfully' is successfully lying prostrate in front of swami- shirt protected; limbs protected (both Swamiji's and mine).

7. Time: +61 minutes and 30 secs- Operation complete. Yoga mat back in its enclosure after having successfully protected the owner for the umpteenth time. 

As you have seen now, I have become fairly a 'Pro' now. Like most ' Pros' I tried to shift most of my steps to a reflex mode with little thinking and conscious effort required- yet executing the movements impeccably. I even developed a sense to identify Saffron color from peripheral vision. We have been taught that one cannot identify color with the peripheral field of vision since there are not too many cones (color sensing photoreceptors) in the peripheral retina. You have to bring objects within 30 degrees of fixation to see colors well. I however trained myself by hanging a Saffron cloth and varying my fixation to try and identify its color even with the outer most part of the field of vision (while on this training program, my neighbour's five-year-old daughter asked me whether I was playing the role of a 'Bull' in any Spanish movie). 

Now that I was well trained in picking up Saffron cloth with my peripheral vision even in a crowd, I know exactly where the Swamiji will be even in a crowded room. I am conscious tht some of his disciples who accompany him may also be wearing Saffron clothes. I use inside information to get to know how many saffron clothes I need to reckon with on a given day and where they are placed within the geography of the room. Accordingly I plan my move. 

One particular day, I executed this to perfection. Sighted the Saffron clothes with my peripheral vision as I was rushing to this room- slid in front of the Swamiji on my yoga mat (almost like flying carpet) and lifted my head - only to find the public relation officer sitting on this chair clad in Saffron clothes with a half naked body. I was incredulous- I was not angry that he was clad in Saffron clothes and was half naked while on duty. I was angry that he was sitting in the chair where Swamiji was supposed to be sitting. My knowledge of Swamiji's location was less than 1 minute old ( please verify my routine noted above).

Apparently it so happened that the Swamiji went to toilet and in the interim these guys sat where they pleased- No sense of respect for the chair- I mean empty chair. 

Any way the swami walked back into the room while I was still prostrate. The public relation officer kindly rotated me along with the mat towards the Swamiji. And all is well that ends well. I got my blessings without having to redo the act. 

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone ( alive or deceased) is purely coincidental.