A young man found himself caught in a perplexing dilemma: which yoga school should he join? Sivananda Yoga? Krishnamacharya? Bihar School? BKS Iyengar? The choices were overwhelming, with at least six leading traditional options on the table.

I chatted with a friend who had taken some classes in Iyengar yoga. He admired BKS Iyengar’s discipline, profound body insights, and originality, but had reservations about the use of props. “Yoga is organic, divine, non-intrusive,” he argued. “Using props feels like introducing artificial limbs into a practice meant to be purely natural. Yoga is best with what God made—the human body—it leaves no room for man-made interventions…. I think Ashtanga Yoga of Pattabhi remains true to the master yogi Krishnamacharya; in their school, there are no props.” I nodded in agreement.

Another friend, fresh from a mountaineering camp in Uttarkashi, weighed in on K. Pattabhi Jois, the creator of Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga. “If props are unnatural, so is pushing the body to its limits. Pattabhi Jois’ adjustments, like forcing students into extreme poses, can be terrifying and uncomfortable, pushing them beyond their physical and psychological comfort zones. Iyengar’s use of props might seem artificial, but it’s about supporting the body, not breaking it. His yoga emphasizes patience and steadiness.”

That was a fair point too! It reminded me of the story of Milo.

Milo was a 6th Century BC wrestler who won many athletic festivals in ancient Greece. The story goes that when Milo was a boy he gained immense strength by lifting a newborn calf and carrying it on his shoulders. The legend says that he returned the next day and carried out the same feat. Milo then continued to do this for 4 years, hoisting the calf onto his shoulders each day as it grew until he was no longer lifting a calf, but a 4 year old bull!

Absolutely, patience is key!

I realised that BKS Iyengar yoga doesn’t offer Teacher Training Courses. In this tradition, becoming a yoga teacher isn’t as simple as completing a course; it requires years of dedicated practice at various levels before you can even think about teaching BKS Iyengar yoga.

Despite the argument for patience in Iyengar yoga, my friend persisted in his critique of props. “Developing the body is a long-term process. Some muscles grow quickly, others take time, and some need specific exertion. In India, we understand this and don’t rush the body’s evolution. The West, however, is always in a hurry, using machines to speed things up. For example, a runner might need years to develop the right foot muscles, but Americans would design a shoe to achieve it in a day. That’s not natural—it’s mechanical. Yoga should be about organic, natural development,” he concluded.

His words echoed in my mind as I pondered my choice, weighing the natural evolution of the body against the use of supportive tools.

My friend continued, “The other day, I met a Sikh who is a Nirankari. He shared insights about the martial aspect of Sikhism and how certain actions stem from the use and presence of weapons. This conversation led us to discuss the ‘Ram Baithak’ (Hindu squat) and ‘Ram Dand’ (Indian push-ups). These exercises, common among Indian pehalwans (wrestlers), are not just about physical strength but are deeply yogic. Ram Baithak and Ram Dand are as yogic as Surya Namaskara.

Indian pehalwans’ workouts differ from Western routines in their approach to stretching and muscle engagement. In India, the philosophy is to stretch and withdraw, stretch and withdraw, never pushing the body to its breaking point. In contrast, Western workouts often push muscles to their limits, causing them to break and then rebuild. This is evident in the physiques of Indian wrestlers, yogis, and even the iconography of gods, where muscles are rounded and uniform. Western bodybuilders, on the other hand, exhibit distinct muscle cuts from the break-and-rebuild method.

This perspective sheds light on the pioneering physical culture in India. Ram Baithak, or the Indian squat, is a prime example. It’s not just a workout; it’s a natural part of daily life. Traditionally, Indian men wear garments like lungis, allowing them to squat comfortably for defecation, urination, chatting, and various rituals. Squatting is the most natural and effective position for humans, seamlessly integrated into Indian culture.”

I was amazed by the stream of thought that came with Ram Baithak and Ram Danda. Seen from a yogic perspective, the squatting position is known as Malasana. In Sanskrit, “mala” means waste, making it an ideal posture for aiding defecation. However, it can also be interpreted as “maalaa-asana,” or garland pose, and even “malla-asana,” referring to the warrior’s or wrestler’s pose. Thus, we have three interpretations of the same asana, all equally valid.

In the early 1900s, just as the modern squat was gaining popularity, one legendary Indian Kushti wrestler, Gama Pehalwan, created a sensation in Europe. He reigned supreme across India, his rigorous regimen of Baithak, Danda (Indian push-ups), Gada (mace), and Mudgar (Indian club) turning him into a formidable force. Eager for greater challenges, he set his sights on London, where he made waves in the strongman scene, ultimately clinching the title of World Champion in a thrilling 1910 catch wrestling match. Remarkably, even Sandow’s renowned 1894 Deep Knee Bend, which the Western world adopted as the sit-up, can trace its roots back to the Indian Baithak.

The British initially conquered India with overwhelming firepower and tactical superiority. However, they often felt threatened by the extraordinary physical prowess of the Pehlwans (wrestlers), who vastly outmatched them in strength. British military personnel stationed in the Indian subcontinent were astounded by the remarkable physiques of local soldiers, leading them to question how such power could be attained. The exercises associated with Kushti (Wrestling), especially the Indian club, piqued their interest.

In the early nineteenth century, Donald Walker introduced the “new” resistance tool—the Indian club—to England, America, and the European continent through his book “British Manly Exercises,” published in 1834. This introduction likely ignited the burgeoning weightlifting culture in the West, inspiring a wave of gymnasium workouts that prioritized strength and conditioning.

For training, one or two wooden gada (blunt maces) are swung behind the back in various ways. This versatile exercise aims to enhance strength, agility, balance, and overall physical ability. The rhythmic bodyweight squat paired with a two-armed swing, rooted in Indian martial arts, also has deep connections to yoga.

What Milo achieved in ancient Greece, our legendary Bhima and Balarama accomplished in India. They trained diligently, fulfilling Patanjali’s principle of abyasa, which involves entering an altered state by focusing intently on a single activity and repeating it continuously. In doing so, they tapped into what top athletes today refer to as the ‘Zone.’

This exemplifies the intersection of hatha yoga and bodybuilding. Life in India is inherently guided by yoga in all its forms.

We might not face the dilemma of choosing a yoga school, but by living in India, we are already immersed in a vast yoga institution.

May we have the wisdom and courage to embrace the rich legacy our motherland has bestowed upon us.

~ Raj Supe (Kinkar Vishwashreyananda)
Editor, The Mother