The Body as an Instrument

There are some striking verses in Bhaja Govindam, the masterful text, by Sri Adi Sankara and his devotees that talk about the impermanence of the world. In it especially, there are quite a few which ask us to denounce our vain obsession with our body—its youth and beauty.The Master paints, in one stanza, the image of an old man with wrinkling features, losing his teeth and hair. In another, He calls out the lust for another’s body, which is but a decaying mass of muscle and fat. Being exposed to these verses from my teenage years, I was never obsessed with how I looked and never had any major insecurities about my body. If ever there was something which catches us in our prime, it is an acute awareness of how we look, dress and feel. My adolescent years seemed nothing like that. I, thankfully, with the help of my gurus, satsang and my own will, diverted my focus to other creative, intellectual and spiritual pursuits. My waking hours, before and after school, were equally divided between classes for karate, swimming, classical music and daily studies. Though I was no mean athlete, I could put in a few hours on the volleyball court when my team required it. Sometimes I could flex myself into a natrajasana or a dhanurasana at will. And by some twist of fate and genes, I never had any acne attack. So, my agile and functional body, literally became the last of my concerns.Things started going downhill after college though. One rainy day I slipped and ended up with a hairline crack on my tailbone. Increasingly, my travel-bound work, changing cuisines, frequently differing landscapes and weather, all started wearing out my body without my knowledge. My lower back, thanks to a weak tailbone, became the victim of a slightly sedentary lifestyle. I caught myself with back spasms in unknown towns at unpredictable times. So, I went for physiotherapy and regained some muscle strength..‘Once bitten, twice shy’ but not me; I chose a later date to cry. Again I went down the path of obsessing over work, voluntary pursuits, prioritising my social calendar and hardly making time for my body. ‘This body can fix itself. It’s nothing much, just a few squeaky bones and weary muscles’, I thought. Only it was much worse. I suffered through ligament tears, joint ailments and allergy attacks. All because I was blind to the needs and requirements of my body. This was also the age where one could accumulate nine or more hours at the office, still make it to late night hangouts with friends and binge watch shows over the weekend. In a seemingly disconcerted manner, I had but lost control over my sleep, food and working hours. Class A error as per Dhyana Yoga in the Bhagavad Gita. Exposing the body to any extreme makes the person suffer. Neither should we indulge in too much food, sleep or activity, nor should we deny the body its due of food, sleep and activity.Fortunately, the world got a chance to reset with the Covid-induced lockdowns. Like millions around me, I switched to a healthier diet, controlled my sleep schedule and managed to give my best at work, without compromising my life outside of it. Unfortunately, the lockdowns ended and I was back at pushing my body beyond its merit.This long-winded rant has now reached the only logical conclusion. I suffered a burnout, both physical and mental. After observing how I lack the stamina to get past three flights of stairs without losing my breath, or being able to lift my own luggage with ease while travelling, I decided to enrol into a gym. These days I curse myself into waking up, and question every life choice that led me to the point of lifting dumbbells to pounding rock music. However, I couldn’t help but see how I missed the most obvious, tangible truth in all of this.My body is an instrument, just as my mind and intellect. While I need not obsess over it, as Sankara warned, I have to keep it well-oiled and functional if I have to serve. Not just my own goals and ambitions, but also the larger society, my gurus and my country. Losing one’s agility, strength and mobility reduces one’s capacity to serve. There’s no vanity in prioritising one’s physical fitness, just as we prioritise our career or relationships. In fact, warding off diseases and ailments gives us more time and energy to invest in other aspects of life. Not doing this in our youth would be the greatest disservice we do to ourselves and the people around us in our later years. If you are wise enough to learn from others’ mistakes, learn from mine. I have grudgingly resorted to the mantra of ‘sore today, strong tomorrow’. I want this instrument to serve me, as much as I want to serve the world.

The Body as an Instrument

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