KRISHNAMACHARYA TRADITION
Yoga in the Tradition of T Krishnamacharya
Professor T Krishnamacharya was a pioneer in rescuing the ancient teachings of Yoga and preserving them for the modern world. He strongly advocated an intelligent approach to Yoga, in which the tools and techniques of Yoga were adapted to respect the needs, abilities and requirements of each individual.
The great popularity and prestige of his students, including Indra Devi, Pattabhi Jois, BKS Iyengar and particularly TKV Desikachar, testify to the importance of his teachings, his work and his relevance as one of the most influential Yoga teachers of the modern era.
TKV Desikachar, Krishnamacharya’s son and longest-serving student, continues this tradition into the 21st century. TKV Desikachar has been instrumental in building bridges between Yoga and other healing modalities, inspiring thousands of Yoga practitioners around the world.
The following principles and practices are unique to Yoga as taught in the tradition of Krishnamacharya:
- The full spectrum of Yoga tools is used in a practical and experience-based way.
- In individual classes, personalised Yoga programmes are developed and evolve to meet the individual’s general or therapeutic needs.
- Group classes are taught with a specific focus on individual attention and care.
- The therapeutic application of yoga uses an integrative approach that is complementary to other healing modalities.
- Teachers/therapists are in a constant process of growth and learning through mentoring, personal practice and continuing education programmes.
Some of the tools used in this tradition include (but are not limited to):
- postures (āsana)
- breath regulation (prāṇāyāma)
- meditation (dhyanam)
- dietary recommendations (ahara niyama)
- lifestyle suggestions (vihara niyama)
- Vedic chanting and mantras
- visualisations/affirmations (bhavana)
- gestures (mudra)
- self-reflection (svadhyaya)
“The success of your yoga practice should not be measured by the flexibility achieved in the body, but by the way your heart opens up”
TKV Desikachar
Recovering the roots of yoga
When the American yoga magazine Yoga Journal asked me to write about Krishnamacharya's legacy, I thought it would be an easy task to follow the trail of someone who died only a decade ago. I discovered, however, that Krishnamacharya remains a mystery, even to his own family. He never wrote his memoirs or took credit for any of his many innovations. His life is shrouded in myth. Those who knew him well are now too old. And if we lose his memories, we risk losing much more than the story of one of yoga's most remarkable men, we risk losing the vision of the history of this vibrant tradition we have inherited. It is curious to see how the evolution of this multifaceted man's personality influences the Yoga we practisepractice today. Krishnamacharya began his teaching career by perfecting his strict and idealistic version of hatha yoga. And, as the tide of history forced him to adapt, he became one of the greatest reformers of yoga. Some of his students remember him as a rigorous and volatile teacher, B.K.S. Iyengar told me that Krishnamacharya could have been a saint if he had not been so self-centred and short-tempered. Others remember him as a gentle mentor who valued their individualities. Desikachar, for example, describes his father as a kind person who often placed his late guru's sandals on his head in an act of humility. Both men remain utterly loyal to their guru, even though they met him at different stages of their lives, as if they remember two different people. It is still possible to appreciate in the dissonant tones of the traditions he inspired, seemingly opposing characteristics, some gentle, some strict, each attracting different personalities and adding depth and variety to our still developing yoga practice.
When the American yoga magazine Yoga Journal asked me to write about Krishnamacharya's legacy, I thought it would be an easy task to follow the trail of someone who died only a decade ago. I discovered, however, that Krishnamacharya remains a mystery, even to his own family. He never wrote his memoirs or took credit for any of his many innovations. His life is shrouded in myth. Those who knew him well are now too old. And if we lose his memories, we risk losing much more than the story of one of yoga's most remarkable men, we risk losing the vision of the history of this vibrant tradition we have inherited. It is curious to see how the evolution of this multifaceted man's personality influences the Yoga we practisepractice today. Krishnamacharya began his teaching career by perfecting his strict and idealistic version of hatha yoga. And, as the tide of history forced him to adapt, he became one of the greatest reformers of yoga. Some of his students remember him as a rigorous and volatile teacher, B.K.S. Iyengar told me that Krishnamacharya could have been a saint if he had not been so self-centred and short-tempered. Others remember him as a gentle mentor who valued their individualities. Desikachar, for example, describes his father as a kind person who often placed his late guru's sandals on his head in an act of humility. Both men remain utterly loyal to their guru, even though they met him at different stages of their lives, as if they remember two different people. It is still possible to appreciate in the dissonant tones of the traditions he inspired, seemingly opposing characteristics, some gentle, some strict, each attracting different personalities and adding depth and variety to our still developing yoga practice.
Emerging from the shadows
The world of yoga that Krishnamacharya inherited at his birth in 1888 was quite different from today. Yoga had lost much of its strength due to the pressures of British colonial rule. Only a small group of Hindus practised it. But in the mid-nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, revitalising Hindu movements breathed new life into the Indian tradition. As a young man. Krishnamacharya immersed himself in learning various classical Hindu disciplines, including the Sanskrit language, rituals, law and , basic Indian medicine. Eventually, he channelledwas to channel this vast store of knowledge into the study of Yoga, where he would synthesise the Hindu wisdom of these traditions. According to biographical notes written by Krishnamacharya near the end of his life, his father reportedly initiated him into Yoga at the age of five, at which time he began teaching him the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, and told him that his family descended from a respected ninth-century yogi, Nathamuni. Although his father died before Krishnamacharya reached puberty, he instilled in his son a great thirst for knowledge and a specific desire to study Yoga. In another manuscript Krishnamacharya wrote that when he was still a young boy, he learned 24 asanas from a Swami of Sringeri Math, the same temple that saw the birth of Shivananda Yogananda's lineage. Then, at the age of 16, he made a pilgrimage to the shrine of Nathamuni at Alvar Tirunagari, where he met, in an extraordinary vision, his legendary ancestor. As he always told this story, he met an old man at the temple gate, who pointed to a grove of mango trees nearby. Krishnamacharya walked to the grove where he collapsed in exhaustion. When he came to himself and stood up, he noticed that several yogis had gathered around him. His ancestor Nathamuni chanted verses from Yoga Rahasya (in Sanskrit, The Essence of Yoga), a text lost more than a thousand years ago. Krishnamacharya memorised it and later transcribed it. The seeds of many innovations in Krishnamacharya's teachings can be found in this text, now available in an English version (Yoga Rahasya, translated by T.K.V. Desikachar, Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram, 1998). Even if the author's story could Although it may seem far-fetched, it points to an important feature of Krishnamacharya's personality: He never claimed originality. In his version, Yoga is divine. All his ideas, original or not, he attributed to the ancient texts, or else to his guru. After his experience at Nathamuni's shrine, Krishamacharya went on to explore a panoply of classical Indian disciplines, gaining degrees in philosophy, logic, divinity and music. He practised Yoga from rudimentary knowledge gleaned from texts and the occasional interview with a yogi, but always yearned for deeper study, as his father had recommended. A university professor saw him practising his asanas and recommended that he seek out a teacher named Shri Rama Mohan Brahmachari, one of the few remaining hatha yogis. We know little about Brahmachari, except that he lived in a remote cave with his wife and three children. Krishnamacharya relates that he spent seven years with his teacher memorising the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, learning asana and pranayama, and studying the therapeutic aspects of Yoga. During his apprenticeship. Krishnamacharya claims to have mastered 3000 asanas and developed some of his most remarkable talents, such as stopping the pulse. In return for the instruction, Brahnmachari asked his loyal pupil to return to his hometown to teach Yoga and establish a family. Krishnamacharya's education would have earned him a good position in any prestigious institution, but he declined such opportunities and preferred to honour the promise he had made to his mentor. And, despite all his training, Krishnamacharya returned to poverty. In the 1920s teaching yoga was not remunerative. Students were few, and Krishnamacharya had to take a job as a foreman on a coffee plantation. But, on his days off, he travelled around the province giving Yoga discourses and demonstrations. Krishnamacharya made use of the siddhis, the supernatural capacities of the yogic body, to popularise Yoga. These demonstrations - intended to arouse the interest of a dying tradition - included suspending the pulse, stopping vehicles with his hands, performing improbable postures and lifting heavy objects with his teeth. He felt that to teach Yoga, he first had to attract the attention of the public. Through an arranged marriage, Krishnamacharya honoured his guru's second request. The ancient yogis were ascetics who lived in the forest without home or family. But Krishnamacharya's guru wanted him to learn family life and to teach Yoga that would serve the common citizen. At first this turned out to be more difficult than imagined. The couple lived in such poverty that Krishnamacharya had only a loincloth, a patch of cloth from his wife's sari. He would later remember this period as the hardest of his life, but the hardships only further hardened his unshakable resolve to teach Yoga.
The world of yoga that Krishnamacharya inherited at his birth in 1888 was quite different from today. Yoga had lost much of its strength due to the pressures of British colonial rule. Only a small group of Hindus practised it. But in the mid-nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, revitalising Hindu movements breathed new life into the Indian tradition. As a young man. Krishnamacharya immersed himself in learning various classical Hindu disciplines, including the Sanskrit language, rituals, law and , basic Indian medicine. Eventually, he channelledwas to channel this vast store of knowledge into the study of Yoga, where he would synthesise the Hindu wisdom of these traditions. According to biographical notes written by Krishnamacharya near the end of his life, his father reportedly initiated him into Yoga at the age of five, at which time he began teaching him the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, and told him that his family descended from a respected ninth-century yogi, Nathamuni. Although his father died before Krishnamacharya reached puberty, he instilled in his son a great thirst for knowledge and a specific desire to study Yoga. In another manuscript Krishnamacharya wrote that when he was still a young boy, he learned 24 asanas from a Swami of Sringeri Math, the same temple that saw the birth of Shivananda Yogananda's lineage. Then, at the age of 16, he made a pilgrimage to the shrine of Nathamuni at Alvar Tirunagari, where he met, in an extraordinary vision, his legendary ancestor. As he always told this story, he met an old man at the temple gate, who pointed to a grove of mango trees nearby. Krishnamacharya walked to the grove where he collapsed in exhaustion. When he came to himself and stood up, he noticed that several yogis had gathered around him. His ancestor Nathamuni chanted verses from Yoga Rahasya (in Sanskrit, The Essence of Yoga), a text lost more than a thousand years ago. Krishnamacharya memorised it and later transcribed it. The seeds of many innovations in Krishnamacharya's teachings can be found in this text, now available in an English version (Yoga Rahasya, translated by T.K.V. Desikachar, Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram, 1998). Even if the author's story could Although it may seem far-fetched, it points to an important feature of Krishnamacharya's personality: He never claimed originality. In his version, Yoga is divine. All his ideas, original or not, he attributed to the ancient texts, or else to his guru. After his experience at Nathamuni's shrine, Krishamacharya went on to explore a panoply of classical Indian disciplines, gaining degrees in philosophy, logic, divinity and music. He practised Yoga from rudimentary knowledge gleaned from texts and the occasional interview with a yogi, but always yearned for deeper study, as his father had recommended. A university professor saw him practising his asanas and recommended that he seek out a teacher named Shri Rama Mohan Brahmachari, one of the few remaining hatha yogis. We know little about Brahmachari, except that he lived in a remote cave with his wife and three children. Krishnamacharya relates that he spent seven years with his teacher memorising the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, learning asana and pranayama, and studying the therapeutic aspects of Yoga. During his apprenticeship. Krishnamacharya claims to have mastered 3000 asanas and developed some of his most remarkable talents, such as stopping the pulse. In return for the instruction, Brahnmachari asked his loyal pupil to return to his hometown to teach Yoga and establish a family. Krishnamacharya's education would have earned him a good position in any prestigious institution, but he declined such opportunities and preferred to honour the promise he had made to his mentor. And, despite all his training, Krishnamacharya returned to poverty. In the 1920s teaching yoga was not remunerative. Students were few, and Krishnamacharya had to take a job as a foreman on a coffee plantation. But, on his days off, he travelled around the province giving Yoga discourses and demonstrations. Krishnamacharya made use of the siddhis, the supernatural capacities of the yogic body, to popularise Yoga. These demonstrations - intended to arouse the interest of a dying tradition - included suspending the pulse, stopping vehicles with his hands, performing improbable postures and lifting heavy objects with his teeth. He felt that to teach Yoga, he first had to attract the attention of the public. Through an arranged marriage, Krishnamacharya honoured his guru's second request. The ancient yogis were ascetics who lived in the forest without home or family. But Krishnamacharya's guru wanted him to learn family life and to teach Yoga that would serve the common citizen. At first this turned out to be more difficult than imagined. The couple lived in such poverty that Krishnamacharya had only a loincloth, a patch of cloth from his wife's sari. He would later remember this period as the hardest of his life, but the hardships only further hardened his unshakable resolve to teach Yoga.
The development of Vinyasa Yoga
Krishnamacharya's fortunes improved when, in 1931 he received an invitation to teach at Sanskrit College in Mysore. He was offered There he received a good salary and the possibility to devote himself entirely to the teaching of Yoga. The ruling family of Mysore had long promoted all indigenous art forms, supporting and injecting new vigour into Indian culture. For more than a century they it had already patronised Hatha Yoga and the library contained the oldest illustrated compilations of asanas now known: Sritattvanidhi (translated into English by Sanskrit scholar Mormas E. Sjoman in The Yoga Tradition of the Mysore Palace, Adhinav Publications, New Delhi, 1999). For the next two decades the Maharaja of Mysore helped Krishnamacharya to promote Yoga throughout India, financing demonstrations and publications. As a diabetic, the Maharaja felt strongly about the relationship between yoga and recovery of health, and Krishnamacharya devoted much time to developing this connection. Krishnamacharya's position at Sanskrit College did not last long. He was too strict and his students complained. As the Maharaja liked Krishnamacharya and did not want to lose his friendship and advice, he proposed a solution: he offered him the palace gymnasium to start his own Yoga school, Yogashala. Thus began one of Krishnamacharya's most fertile periods. During this time he developed what is known today as Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga. As Krishnamacharya's pupils were mostly active young men, they adapted techniques from Yoga, gymnastics and Indian wrestling to develop dynamic asana sequences aimed at achieving unsurpassed physical fitness. This style of Vinyasa uses the movements of Surya Namaskar (sun salutation) to enter and exit each asana. Each movement is coordinated with a special way of breathing and drishti, or focusing the eyes on certain points, which aids meditative concentration. Over time Krishnamacharya standardised the sequences of postures into three series: primary, intermediate and advanced. Students were grouped according to their experience and ability, having to memorise each sequence before advancing to the next. Although Krishnamacharya developed this form of Yoga during the 1930s, it remained virtually unknown in the West for almost 40 years. Recently it has become one of the most popular forms of Yoga, thanks to the work of one of his most loyal and famous disciples: K. Pattabhi Jois. Pattabhi Jois met Krishnamacharya in his difficult times, before the Mysore palace years. He was a sturdy boy of 12 when he attended one of Krishnamacharya's talks. Intrigued by the asana demonstration he asked Krishnamacharya to teach him Yoga. The lessons began the next day, hours before the school bell rang, and continued every morning for three years until Jois had to leave home to enter Sanskrit College. When Krishnamacharya accepted the teaching post at that College two years later, Pattabhi Jois, overflowing with joy, resumed his Yoga lessons. Jois retained an immense amount of memories of the years he studied with Krishnamacharya. For decades he has maintained the work left to him by Krishnamacharya with great devotion, refining the asana sequences without infringing on the substantial modifications, just as a classical violinist might nuance the melody of a Mozart concerto without changing a note. Jois has often said that the concept of vinyasa originated in an ancient text called Yoga Korunta. Unfortunately, the text disappeared; no one has ever seen it. There are so many stories about its discovery and content - I have heard at least five of them that contradict each other - that one questions its authenticity. When I asked Jois if he had ever read the text, he replied: "No, only Krishnamacharya". He immediately downplayed the scripture, pointing to several other texts that also shaped the Yoga he learned from Krishnamacharya, including the Hatha Yoga Pradipika, the Yoga Sutras, the Baghavad Gita. Whatever the roots of Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga, today it is one of the most influential components of Krishnamacharya's legacy. Perhaps, this method, originally designed for the young, shows us a friendlier path to deeper spirituality in a culture that values energy and the external more than the internal. In the last three decades a growing number of yogis have been attracted by its precision and intensity. Many of them have made the pilgrimage to Mysore, where Jois still teaches.
Krishnamacharya's fortunes improved when, in 1931 he received an invitation to teach at Sanskrit College in Mysore. He was offered There he received a good salary and the possibility to devote himself entirely to the teaching of Yoga. The ruling family of Mysore had long promoted all indigenous art forms, supporting and injecting new vigour into Indian culture. For more than a century they it had already patronised Hatha Yoga and the library contained the oldest illustrated compilations of asanas now known: Sritattvanidhi (translated into English by Sanskrit scholar Mormas E. Sjoman in The Yoga Tradition of the Mysore Palace, Adhinav Publications, New Delhi, 1999). For the next two decades the Maharaja of Mysore helped Krishnamacharya to promote Yoga throughout India, financing demonstrations and publications. As a diabetic, the Maharaja felt strongly about the relationship between yoga and recovery of health, and Krishnamacharya devoted much time to developing this connection. Krishnamacharya's position at Sanskrit College did not last long. He was too strict and his students complained. As the Maharaja liked Krishnamacharya and did not want to lose his friendship and advice, he proposed a solution: he offered him the palace gymnasium to start his own Yoga school, Yogashala. Thus began one of Krishnamacharya's most fertile periods. During this time he developed what is known today as Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga. As Krishnamacharya's pupils were mostly active young men, they adapted techniques from Yoga, gymnastics and Indian wrestling to develop dynamic asana sequences aimed at achieving unsurpassed physical fitness. This style of Vinyasa uses the movements of Surya Namaskar (sun salutation) to enter and exit each asana. Each movement is coordinated with a special way of breathing and drishti, or focusing the eyes on certain points, which aids meditative concentration. Over time Krishnamacharya standardised the sequences of postures into three series: primary, intermediate and advanced. Students were grouped according to their experience and ability, having to memorise each sequence before advancing to the next. Although Krishnamacharya developed this form of Yoga during the 1930s, it remained virtually unknown in the West for almost 40 years. Recently it has become one of the most popular forms of Yoga, thanks to the work of one of his most loyal and famous disciples: K. Pattabhi Jois. Pattabhi Jois met Krishnamacharya in his difficult times, before the Mysore palace years. He was a sturdy boy of 12 when he attended one of Krishnamacharya's talks. Intrigued by the asana demonstration he asked Krishnamacharya to teach him Yoga. The lessons began the next day, hours before the school bell rang, and continued every morning for three years until Jois had to leave home to enter Sanskrit College. When Krishnamacharya accepted the teaching post at that College two years later, Pattabhi Jois, overflowing with joy, resumed his Yoga lessons. Jois retained an immense amount of memories of the years he studied with Krishnamacharya. For decades he has maintained the work left to him by Krishnamacharya with great devotion, refining the asana sequences without infringing on the substantial modifications, just as a classical violinist might nuance the melody of a Mozart concerto without changing a note. Jois has often said that the concept of vinyasa originated in an ancient text called Yoga Korunta. Unfortunately, the text disappeared; no one has ever seen it. There are so many stories about its discovery and content - I have heard at least five of them that contradict each other - that one questions its authenticity. When I asked Jois if he had ever read the text, he replied: "No, only Krishnamacharya". He immediately downplayed the scripture, pointing to several other texts that also shaped the Yoga he learned from Krishnamacharya, including the Hatha Yoga Pradipika, the Yoga Sutras, the Baghavad Gita. Whatever the roots of Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga, today it is one of the most influential components of Krishnamacharya's legacy. Perhaps, this method, originally designed for the young, shows us a friendlier path to deeper spirituality in a culture that values energy and the external more than the internal. In the last three decades a growing number of yogis have been attracted by its precision and intensity. Many of them have made the pilgrimage to Mysore, where Jois still teaches.
Breaking a tradition
Although, Krisnamacharya taught children and youth in the Mysore palace, his public demonstrations attracted diverse congregations. He enjoyed the challenge of presenting Yoga to audiences with different backgrounds and education. On his frequent tours, which he called propagandistic trips, he introduced yoga to British soldiers, Muslim Maharajas and Indians of all religious faiths. Krishnamacharya always emphasised that Yoga was for all, and tailored his teachings to respect the beliefs of his students. But while overlooking cultural, religious and class differences, he always maintained a patriarchal attitude towards women. Fate, however, played a trick on himher: The first student who brought his her Yoga to the world stage asked to be admitted wearing a sari... And she was a Westerner! The woman, who came to be known as Indra Devi (born in Zhenia Labunskaia, in pre-Soviet Latvija) was a friend of the royal family of Mysore. After seeing one of Krishnamacharya's demonstrations, she asked to be admitted as a student. At first neither foreigners nor women. But Devi insisted, persuading the Maharaja to intercede on her behalf with this bramin. Reluctantly Krishnamacharya began classes, subjecting her to a strict diet and a difficult teaching regime designed to break her will. She passed every challenge imposed by Krishnamacharya, becoming his friend and exemplary student. After a year of apprenticeship, Krishnamacharya asked her to teach Yoga. He asked her to bring a notebook to class and spent several days with her telling her his knowledge of how to teach Yoga, of diet and pranayama. Inspired by these teachings, she later wrote the best-selling book on Hatha yoga, Forever Young, Forever Healthy (Prentice Hall, Inc., 1953). Years after studying with Krishnamacharya, Devi founded the first yoga school in Shanghai, China, where Madame Chiang Kai-shek was one of her students. She later succeeded in convincing the Soviet leaders that yoga was not a religion and was thus able to open the doors of the Soviet Union to yoga, where until then it had been illegal. In 1947 she moved to the United States. Living in Hollywood she became known as The First Lady of Yoga, attracting students such as Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Arden, Greta Garbo and Gloria Swanson. Thanks to Devi, Krishnamacharya was able to enjoy his first international exposure. Although she studied with Krishnamacharya during the Mysore period, the Yoga taught by Indra Devi has little in common with Jois' ashtanga vinyasa. As if to herald the highly personalised style of yoga he was later to develop, Krishnamacharya taught Devi in a gentle manner, adapting the postures, whenever necessary, to her physical limitations. Devi has always maintained this gentle style in her teachings. Although her style does not use Vinyasa, she uses the principle of Krishnamacharya's sequences so that her classes follow a path - starting with standing postures, progressing to a central asana followed by complementary postures and ending with relaxation. As with Jois, Krishnamacharya taught him to combine pranayama and asana. Students of his lineage still practisepractice each posture with a particular way of breathing. Devi also added a devotional aspect to her work, which she called Sai yoga. The main posture of each class includes an invocation so that the fulcrum of each practice contains a meditation in the form of an ecumenical prayer. Although she developed this concept herself, it may already have been present in embryonic form in the teachings she received from Krishnamacharya. In his later years, Krishnamacharya also recommended devotional chanting within asana practice. Today, approaching 103 years of age, Devi receives students every evening at one of her six centres in Buenos Aires, Argentina. And until three years ago, she was still teaching postures. Well into her nineties, she continued to travel the world, bringing Krishnamacharya's influence to many people in North and South America. Her impact in the United States faded when she moved to live in Buenos Aires in 1985, but her prestige in Latin America extends far beyond the Argentinean yoga community. You will be hard pressed to find anyone in Buenos Aires who has not heard of her. She reached out to all strata of Latin society: The taxi driver who took me to my interview with her described her as a very wise woman, and the day after my interview, the former president of Argentina, Carlos Menem, visited her to ask for her blessing and advice. Devi's six yoga schools teach 15 asana classes a day and graduates of her four-year teacher training course receive an internationally recognised certificate equivalent to a pre-university degree.
Although, Krisnamacharya taught children and youth in the Mysore palace, his public demonstrations attracted diverse congregations. He enjoyed the challenge of presenting Yoga to audiences with different backgrounds and education. On his frequent tours, which he called propagandistic trips, he introduced yoga to British soldiers, Muslim Maharajas and Indians of all religious faiths. Krishnamacharya always emphasised that Yoga was for all, and tailored his teachings to respect the beliefs of his students. But while overlooking cultural, religious and class differences, he always maintained a patriarchal attitude towards women. Fate, however, played a trick on himher: The first student who brought his her Yoga to the world stage asked to be admitted wearing a sari... And she was a Westerner! The woman, who came to be known as Indra Devi (born in Zhenia Labunskaia, in pre-Soviet Latvija) was a friend of the royal family of Mysore. After seeing one of Krishnamacharya's demonstrations, she asked to be admitted as a student. At first neither foreigners nor women. But Devi insisted, persuading the Maharaja to intercede on her behalf with this bramin. Reluctantly Krishnamacharya began classes, subjecting her to a strict diet and a difficult teaching regime designed to break her will. She passed every challenge imposed by Krishnamacharya, becoming his friend and exemplary student. After a year of apprenticeship, Krishnamacharya asked her to teach Yoga. He asked her to bring a notebook to class and spent several days with her telling her his knowledge of how to teach Yoga, of diet and pranayama. Inspired by these teachings, she later wrote the best-selling book on Hatha yoga, Forever Young, Forever Healthy (Prentice Hall, Inc., 1953). Years after studying with Krishnamacharya, Devi founded the first yoga school in Shanghai, China, where Madame Chiang Kai-shek was one of her students. She later succeeded in convincing the Soviet leaders that yoga was not a religion and was thus able to open the doors of the Soviet Union to yoga, where until then it had been illegal. In 1947 she moved to the United States. Living in Hollywood she became known as The First Lady of Yoga, attracting students such as Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Arden, Greta Garbo and Gloria Swanson. Thanks to Devi, Krishnamacharya was able to enjoy his first international exposure. Although she studied with Krishnamacharya during the Mysore period, the Yoga taught by Indra Devi has little in common with Jois' ashtanga vinyasa. As if to herald the highly personalised style of yoga he was later to develop, Krishnamacharya taught Devi in a gentle manner, adapting the postures, whenever necessary, to her physical limitations. Devi has always maintained this gentle style in her teachings. Although her style does not use Vinyasa, she uses the principle of Krishnamacharya's sequences so that her classes follow a path - starting with standing postures, progressing to a central asana followed by complementary postures and ending with relaxation. As with Jois, Krishnamacharya taught him to combine pranayama and asana. Students of his lineage still practisepractice each posture with a particular way of breathing. Devi also added a devotional aspect to her work, which she called Sai yoga. The main posture of each class includes an invocation so that the fulcrum of each practice contains a meditation in the form of an ecumenical prayer. Although she developed this concept herself, it may already have been present in embryonic form in the teachings she received from Krishnamacharya. In his later years, Krishnamacharya also recommended devotional chanting within asana practice. Today, approaching 103 years of age, Devi receives students every evening at one of her six centres in Buenos Aires, Argentina. And until three years ago, she was still teaching postures. Well into her nineties, she continued to travel the world, bringing Krishnamacharya's influence to many people in North and South America. Her impact in the United States faded when she moved to live in Buenos Aires in 1985, but her prestige in Latin America extends far beyond the Argentinean yoga community. You will be hard pressed to find anyone in Buenos Aires who has not heard of her. She reached out to all strata of Latin society: The taxi driver who took me to my interview with her described her as a very wise woman, and the day after my interview, the former president of Argentina, Carlos Menem, visited her to ask for her blessing and advice. Devi's six yoga schools teach 15 asana classes a day and graduates of her four-year teacher training course receive an internationally recognised certificate equivalent to a pre-university degree.
Teaching Iyengar
During the period when Krishnamacharya was teaching Devi and Jois, he also briefly taught a boy named B.K.S. Iyengar, who grew up to play probably the most significant role in introducing Hatha yoga to the West. It is difficult to imagine what the Yoga we practisepractice today would have been like without Iyengar's contribution, especially his detailed, precise and systematic execution of each asana, his research into therapeutic applications and their differentiation by levels, the rigorous training system that has produced so many influential teachers. It is also difficult to know how much his later development was influenced by the training he received from Krishnamacharya. Although intense, the time he spent with his teacher was short: only one year. In addition to instilling in Iyengar devotion to Yoga, perhaps, he also planted the seeds that would later germinate into Iyengar's yoga. (Some of the characteristics for which he is known today, particularly the modifications to the postures and their therapeutic uses, are very similar to those that Krishnamacharya developed in his work in later years). Possibly any in-depth research in Hatha yoga will produce similar results. In any case, Iyengar has always idolised the guru of his childhood. He still says: "I am only a small model in Yoga, my guru was a great man". In the beginning, Iyengar's future was not clear. When Krishnamacharya invited him to live in his home, his wife, lynegar’s sister, - Krishnamacharya's wife, Iyengar's sister - she predicted that the unwieldy teenager had no future in yoga. In fact, Iyengar's account of his life with Krishnamacharya sounds like a Dickens novel. Krishnamacharya could be a very strict teacher. In the beginning he hardly bothered to teach Iyengar, who spent most of his time watering the garden and doing all sorts of menial tasks. The only friend he had was his roommate, a boy named Keshavamurty, who was Krishnamacharya's favourite. A strange twist of fate caused Keshava Murthy to disappear one day, never to return. An important demonstration at the Yogashala was only days away and Krishamacharya naturally relied on his star pupil to demonstrate the asanas. Faced with this crisis, Krishnamacharya quickly began to train Iyengar in a series of complicated postures. Iyengar practised diligently, and on the day of the demonstration he surprised Krishnamacharya with an exceptional performance. After this, Krishnamacharya began the instruction of his pupil with renewed vigour. Iyengar progressed rapidly and also began to assist Krishnamacharya in his yogashala classes and to accompany him on tours. Krishnamacharya, however, continued his authoritative style of instruction. On one occasion when Krishnamacharya ordered him to do hanumanasana, (full leg opening, split), Iyengar complained that he had never done that posture before. Do it! Krishnamacharya shouted at him. Iyengar did it, tearing his hamstring muscles. His short apprenticeship ended abruptly. After a Yoga demonstration in the northern province of Karnataka, a group of women asked Krishnamacharya to teach them. Krishnamacharya chose Iyengar, his youngest student, to teach the class. At that time the classes were segregated, i.e. women studied separately from men. Iyengar impressed the women with his teaching. And, at their request, Krishnamacharya appointed Iyengar as their instructor. Teaching was a promotion for Iyengar, but it did little to improve his status. Teaching yoga was still a marginal profession. Sometimes, Iyengar recalls, he ate only one plate of rice every three days, to sustain himself with water alone. But he gave his himself body and soul to yoga. In fact, Iyengar says he was so obsessed with yoga that some neighbours and family members thought he had gone mad. He would practise for hours, using heavy stones to force his legs into Baddha Konasana (sitting with the soles of his feet together) or bending backwards over a cement roller to improve his Urdhva Dhanurasana (the spider). Concerned for his well-being, Iyengar's brother arranged his marriage to a 16-year-old girl named Ramamani. Fortunately, Ramamani respected his work and became a very important partner in his asana research. Several hundred miles away from his guru, the only way for Iyengar to learn more about asana was to explore with his own body and analyse the effects. With Ramamani's help, Iyengar refined and improved the asanas he learned from Krishnamacharya. Like Krishnamacharya, as Iyengar gained students, he adapted and modified the postures to suit his needs. And also like Krishnamacharya, Iyengar never hesitated when he had to innovate. To a large extent, he abandoned the Vinyasa style of his mentor. Instead, in developing each posture, he constantly investigated the nature of internal alignment, considering the effects on every part of the body, including the skin. Because many of the students who came to him were in worse physical condition than Krishnamacharya's young students, Iyengar had to learn to develop special props (props: aids such as wooden blocks, cotton belts, the wall) to help them. And, as some of his students were ill, Iyengar began to develop asanas as a healing tool, creating specific therapeutic programmes. In addition, Iyengar began to see the body as a temple and the asanas as prayers. Iyengar's emphasis on asana did not always please his teacher. Although at Iyengar's 60th birthday celebrations, Krishnamacharya praised Iyengar's asana skills, he suggested that it was time for him to focus more on meditation. Throughout the 1930s, 40s and 50s, Iyengar's reputation as a teacher and therapist continued to grow. He gained famous and respected students, such as philosopher Jiddhu Krishnamurti and violinist Yehudi Menuhin, who helped him attract Western students. By the 1960s Yoga was becoming part of world culture, and Iyengar was being recognised as one of its leading ambassadors.
During the period when Krishnamacharya was teaching Devi and Jois, he also briefly taught a boy named B.K.S. Iyengar, who grew up to play probably the most significant role in introducing Hatha yoga to the West. It is difficult to imagine what the Yoga we practisepractice today would have been like without Iyengar's contribution, especially his detailed, precise and systematic execution of each asana, his research into therapeutic applications and their differentiation by levels, the rigorous training system that has produced so many influential teachers. It is also difficult to know how much his later development was influenced by the training he received from Krishnamacharya. Although intense, the time he spent with his teacher was short: only one year. In addition to instilling in Iyengar devotion to Yoga, perhaps, he also planted the seeds that would later germinate into Iyengar's yoga. (Some of the characteristics for which he is known today, particularly the modifications to the postures and their therapeutic uses, are very similar to those that Krishnamacharya developed in his work in later years). Possibly any in-depth research in Hatha yoga will produce similar results. In any case, Iyengar has always idolised the guru of his childhood. He still says: "I am only a small model in Yoga, my guru was a great man". In the beginning, Iyengar's future was not clear. When Krishnamacharya invited him to live in his home, his wife, lynegar’s sister, - Krishnamacharya's wife, Iyengar's sister - she predicted that the unwieldy teenager had no future in yoga. In fact, Iyengar's account of his life with Krishnamacharya sounds like a Dickens novel. Krishnamacharya could be a very strict teacher. In the beginning he hardly bothered to teach Iyengar, who spent most of his time watering the garden and doing all sorts of menial tasks. The only friend he had was his roommate, a boy named Keshavamurty, who was Krishnamacharya's favourite. A strange twist of fate caused Keshava Murthy to disappear one day, never to return. An important demonstration at the Yogashala was only days away and Krishamacharya naturally relied on his star pupil to demonstrate the asanas. Faced with this crisis, Krishnamacharya quickly began to train Iyengar in a series of complicated postures. Iyengar practised diligently, and on the day of the demonstration he surprised Krishnamacharya with an exceptional performance. After this, Krishnamacharya began the instruction of his pupil with renewed vigour. Iyengar progressed rapidly and also began to assist Krishnamacharya in his yogashala classes and to accompany him on tours. Krishnamacharya, however, continued his authoritative style of instruction. On one occasion when Krishnamacharya ordered him to do hanumanasana, (full leg opening, split), Iyengar complained that he had never done that posture before. Do it! Krishnamacharya shouted at him. Iyengar did it, tearing his hamstring muscles. His short apprenticeship ended abruptly. After a Yoga demonstration in the northern province of Karnataka, a group of women asked Krishnamacharya to teach them. Krishnamacharya chose Iyengar, his youngest student, to teach the class. At that time the classes were segregated, i.e. women studied separately from men. Iyengar impressed the women with his teaching. And, at their request, Krishnamacharya appointed Iyengar as their instructor. Teaching was a promotion for Iyengar, but it did little to improve his status. Teaching yoga was still a marginal profession. Sometimes, Iyengar recalls, he ate only one plate of rice every three days, to sustain himself with water alone. But he gave his himself body and soul to yoga. In fact, Iyengar says he was so obsessed with yoga that some neighbours and family members thought he had gone mad. He would practise for hours, using heavy stones to force his legs into Baddha Konasana (sitting with the soles of his feet together) or bending backwards over a cement roller to improve his Urdhva Dhanurasana (the spider). Concerned for his well-being, Iyengar's brother arranged his marriage to a 16-year-old girl named Ramamani. Fortunately, Ramamani respected his work and became a very important partner in his asana research. Several hundred miles away from his guru, the only way for Iyengar to learn more about asana was to explore with his own body and analyse the effects. With Ramamani's help, Iyengar refined and improved the asanas he learned from Krishnamacharya. Like Krishnamacharya, as Iyengar gained students, he adapted and modified the postures to suit his needs. And also like Krishnamacharya, Iyengar never hesitated when he had to innovate. To a large extent, he abandoned the Vinyasa style of his mentor. Instead, in developing each posture, he constantly investigated the nature of internal alignment, considering the effects on every part of the body, including the skin. Because many of the students who came to him were in worse physical condition than Krishnamacharya's young students, Iyengar had to learn to develop special props (props: aids such as wooden blocks, cotton belts, the wall) to help them. And, as some of his students were ill, Iyengar began to develop asanas as a healing tool, creating specific therapeutic programmes. In addition, Iyengar began to see the body as a temple and the asanas as prayers. Iyengar's emphasis on asana did not always please his teacher. Although at Iyengar's 60th birthday celebrations, Krishnamacharya praised Iyengar's asana skills, he suggested that it was time for him to focus more on meditation. Throughout the 1930s, 40s and 50s, Iyengar's reputation as a teacher and therapist continued to grow. He gained famous and respected students, such as philosopher Jiddhu Krishnamurti and violinist Yehudi Menuhin, who helped him attract Western students. By the 1960s Yoga was becoming part of world culture, and Iyengar was being recognised as one of its leading ambassadors.
Surviving the difficult years
Even as his students prospered and spread his yogic gospel, Krishnamacharya again encountered difficult times. Already in 1947 the number of students in the Yogashala had dropped considerably. According to Jois, there were only three students left. Government patronage had also ended, India had gained its independence and the politicians who replaced the royal family in Mysore had little interest in Yoga. Krishnamacharya struggled to keep the school alive, but in 1950 it had to close. A 60-year-old Krishnamacharya found himself in the situation of having to start all over again. Unlike some of his protégés, Krishnamacharya was not fortunate enough to enjoy the benefits of Yoga's growing popularity. He continued to study, teach and develop his Yoga in almost total obscurity. Iyengar estimates that this solitary period changed Krishnamacharya's disposition. According to Iyengar, Krishnamacharya could remain aloof under the protection of the Maharaja of Mysore. But given to himself, forced to get his own students, he had more motivation to adapt to society and develop more compassion. So it was that, in 1950, when Krishnamacharya was struggling to find work, he had to accept a teaching post in Mysore, at Vivekananda College in Chennai. New students appeared, including people from different professions, walks of life and various health conditions. Krishnamacharya had to find ways to invent new methods of teaching. And, as students with less physical aptitude and even disabilities appeared, Krishnamacharya had to adapt the postures to meet the needs of each. For example, he would instruct one student to do Paschimottanasana, (sitting with the body bent forward) with the knees straight to stretch the hamstrings, while he would have another student do the same posture, but with the knees bent. In the same way, he modified his breathing according to the needs of his students, sometimes strengthening the abdomen by placing greater emphasis on the exhalation and sometimes the back, by placing emphasis on the inhalation. Krishnamacharya varied the duration, frequency and sequences in the asanas to help students achieve specific short-term goals, such as recovering quickly from illness. And, as students progressed, he helped them refine the postures until they achieved the ideal form. In his particular style, Krishnmacharya helped his students evolve from a Yoga that suited their individual limitations to a Yoga that maximised their abilities. This approach, which today goes by the name of Viniyoga, became the trademark of Krishnamacharya's teaching in his final decades. Krishnamacharya seemed always ready to extend these techniques to almost any health condition that presented a challenge. On one occasion, a doctor asked him to help him with a patient who had had a stroke. Krishnamacharya manipulated the patient's lifeless limbs into different postures, a kind of yoga therapyyogatherapy. And as with many of Krishnamacharya's students, this person's health improved, and so did Krishnamacharya's reputation as a therapist. It was the reputation as a therapist that would attract the latter, and one of his greatest disciples. But at that time, no one - least of all Krishnamacharya - would suspect that his son, T.K.V. Desikachar, would become a famous yogi, one who would carry over from the Western Yoga world the entire line of his father's teachings, especially that of the later years.
Even as his students prospered and spread his yogic gospel, Krishnamacharya again encountered difficult times. Already in 1947 the number of students in the Yogashala had dropped considerably. According to Jois, there were only three students left. Government patronage had also ended, India had gained its independence and the politicians who replaced the royal family in Mysore had little interest in Yoga. Krishnamacharya struggled to keep the school alive, but in 1950 it had to close. A 60-year-old Krishnamacharya found himself in the situation of having to start all over again. Unlike some of his protégés, Krishnamacharya was not fortunate enough to enjoy the benefits of Yoga's growing popularity. He continued to study, teach and develop his Yoga in almost total obscurity. Iyengar estimates that this solitary period changed Krishnamacharya's disposition. According to Iyengar, Krishnamacharya could remain aloof under the protection of the Maharaja of Mysore. But given to himself, forced to get his own students, he had more motivation to adapt to society and develop more compassion. So it was that, in 1950, when Krishnamacharya was struggling to find work, he had to accept a teaching post in Mysore, at Vivekananda College in Chennai. New students appeared, including people from different professions, walks of life and various health conditions. Krishnamacharya had to find ways to invent new methods of teaching. And, as students with less physical aptitude and even disabilities appeared, Krishnamacharya had to adapt the postures to meet the needs of each. For example, he would instruct one student to do Paschimottanasana, (sitting with the body bent forward) with the knees straight to stretch the hamstrings, while he would have another student do the same posture, but with the knees bent. In the same way, he modified his breathing according to the needs of his students, sometimes strengthening the abdomen by placing greater emphasis on the exhalation and sometimes the back, by placing emphasis on the inhalation. Krishnamacharya varied the duration, frequency and sequences in the asanas to help students achieve specific short-term goals, such as recovering quickly from illness. And, as students progressed, he helped them refine the postures until they achieved the ideal form. In his particular style, Krishnmacharya helped his students evolve from a Yoga that suited their individual limitations to a Yoga that maximised their abilities. This approach, which today goes by the name of Viniyoga, became the trademark of Krishnamacharya's teaching in his final decades. Krishnamacharya seemed always ready to extend these techniques to almost any health condition that presented a challenge. On one occasion, a doctor asked him to help him with a patient who had had a stroke. Krishnamacharya manipulated the patient's lifeless limbs into different postures, a kind of yoga therapyyogatherapy. And as with many of Krishnamacharya's students, this person's health improved, and so did Krishnamacharya's reputation as a therapist. It was the reputation as a therapist that would attract the latter, and one of his greatest disciples. But at that time, no one - least of all Krishnamacharya - would suspect that his son, T.K.V. Desikachar, would become a famous yogi, one who would carry over from the Western Yoga world the entire line of his father's teachings, especially that of the later years.
Keeping the flame alive
Although he was born into a family of yogis, Desikachar never felt the desire to continue the tradition. As a child, he would walk away from his father when the latter asked him to do asanas. Krishnamachatya once caught him, tied his hands and feet in Baddha Padmasana (lotus posture with arms crossed behind the back and hands on the feet) and left him there for half an hour. This kind of pedagogy did not motivate Desikachar to study yoga, but surely the inspiration came by other means. After obtaining an engineering degree from the university, Desikachar came to visit his family for a short time. He was on his way to Delhi, where he had been offered a good job in a European firm. One morning when he was sitting on the front steps of the house reading the newspaper, he saw a huge American vehicle coming down the narrow street and stopped right in front of Krishnamacharya's house. At that precise moment his father came out of the house, wearing only a dhoti (cotton cloth wrapped around his hips) and the sacred markings that indicate a lifetime of devotion to the god Vishnu. From the back seat of the car, a middle-aged, European-looking woman descended, shouting, "Professor, Professor! ". She threw herself into Krishnamacharya's arms in an effusive embrace. The blood must have drained from Desikachar's face when she witnessed this, and especially when she saw that Krishnamacharya was also hugging her. In those days, Western women and Brahmins did not embrace each other, especially not in the middle of the street, let alone such an observant Bramin as Krishnamacharya. When the woman had gone all Desikachar could say was, "Why? Krishamacharya explained that the lady had been studying yoga with him, and that thanks to his help, the woman had been able to sleep for the first time in 20 years. Perhaps Desikachar's reaction to this revelation was a kind of providence or karma, no doubt this proof of the power of yoga served as a curious epiphany that would change his life forever. In an instant he resolved to learn what he knew from his father. Krishnamacharya did not welcome his son's sudden interest in yoga. He told him that he would continue his career as an engineer and give up yoga quiet. Desikachar refused to listen. He turned down the job in Delhi, found work in a local firm and insisted his father give him lessons. Eventually Krishnamacharya agreed. But, to make sure his son's interest was genuine - or to discourage it - Krishnamacharya also set the start time for classes at 3:30 in the morning every morning. Desikachar agreed, but he also set his own condition: nothing to do with God. A pragmatic engineer like him saw the need for religion. Krishnamacharya respected his son's decision and they started the classes with asanas and reciting Patanjali's Yoga Sutras. And, as the whole family lived in one room, they had no choice but to join the classes, half asleep. The lessons would continue for 28 years, though not as early. During the years he taught his son, Krishnamacharya continued to refine his approach to Viniyoga, making special programmes for the sick, for pregnant women, children, and of course, for those in search of spiritual self-realisation. He went so far as to divide the practice of yoga into three stages, representing youth, middle age and old age: first, developing muscular strength and flexibility, second, maintaining health during the working and family-supporting years, and finally, moving beyond the physical practice to focus on God. Desikachar observed that as the students progressed, Krishamacharya not only began to emphasise more advanced asana practice, but also the spiritual aspects of yoga. Desikachar realised that his father felt that each action was in itself an act of devotion, that each asana should lead to inner calm. Similarly, Krishnamacharya's emphasis on the breath was intended to convey spiritual implications along with physiological benefits. According to Desikachar, Krishnamacharya describes the breathing cycle as an act of surrender: Inhale and God approaches. Hold the breath, and God remains with you. Breathe out, and you draw near to God. Hold the exhalation, and surrender to God. During the last years of his life, Krishnamacharya introduced Vedic chanting into yoga practice, always adjusting the number of verses to coincide with the length of time students should remain in the postures. This technique can help students to keep the mind focused and prepares them for meditation. When Krishnamacharya leaned towards the spiritual aspects of yoga, he respected individual beliefs. One of his oldest students, Patricia Miller, who teaches today in Washington D.C., recalls that he led meditations by offering alternatives. He instructed his students to close their eyes, observing the space between their eyebrows, and then he would say: Think of God. If not God, the sun. If not the sun, your parents. Miller explains that Krishnamacharya demanded only one condition: that we admit that there is a power greater than ourselves.
Although he was born into a family of yogis, Desikachar never felt the desire to continue the tradition. As a child, he would walk away from his father when the latter asked him to do asanas. Krishnamachatya once caught him, tied his hands and feet in Baddha Padmasana (lotus posture with arms crossed behind the back and hands on the feet) and left him there for half an hour. This kind of pedagogy did not motivate Desikachar to study yoga, but surely the inspiration came by other means. After obtaining an engineering degree from the university, Desikachar came to visit his family for a short time. He was on his way to Delhi, where he had been offered a good job in a European firm. One morning when he was sitting on the front steps of the house reading the newspaper, he saw a huge American vehicle coming down the narrow street and stopped right in front of Krishnamacharya's house. At that precise moment his father came out of the house, wearing only a dhoti (cotton cloth wrapped around his hips) and the sacred markings that indicate a lifetime of devotion to the god Vishnu. From the back seat of the car, a middle-aged, European-looking woman descended, shouting, "Professor, Professor! ". She threw herself into Krishnamacharya's arms in an effusive embrace. The blood must have drained from Desikachar's face when she witnessed this, and especially when she saw that Krishnamacharya was also hugging her. In those days, Western women and Brahmins did not embrace each other, especially not in the middle of the street, let alone such an observant Bramin as Krishnamacharya. When the woman had gone all Desikachar could say was, "Why? Krishamacharya explained that the lady had been studying yoga with him, and that thanks to his help, the woman had been able to sleep for the first time in 20 years. Perhaps Desikachar's reaction to this revelation was a kind of providence or karma, no doubt this proof of the power of yoga served as a curious epiphany that would change his life forever. In an instant he resolved to learn what he knew from his father. Krishnamacharya did not welcome his son's sudden interest in yoga. He told him that he would continue his career as an engineer and give up yoga quiet. Desikachar refused to listen. He turned down the job in Delhi, found work in a local firm and insisted his father give him lessons. Eventually Krishnamacharya agreed. But, to make sure his son's interest was genuine - or to discourage it - Krishnamacharya also set the start time for classes at 3:30 in the morning every morning. Desikachar agreed, but he also set his own condition: nothing to do with God. A pragmatic engineer like him saw the need for religion. Krishnamacharya respected his son's decision and they started the classes with asanas and reciting Patanjali's Yoga Sutras. And, as the whole family lived in one room, they had no choice but to join the classes, half asleep. The lessons would continue for 28 years, though not as early. During the years he taught his son, Krishnamacharya continued to refine his approach to Viniyoga, making special programmes for the sick, for pregnant women, children, and of course, for those in search of spiritual self-realisation. He went so far as to divide the practice of yoga into three stages, representing youth, middle age and old age: first, developing muscular strength and flexibility, second, maintaining health during the working and family-supporting years, and finally, moving beyond the physical practice to focus on God. Desikachar observed that as the students progressed, Krishamacharya not only began to emphasise more advanced asana practice, but also the spiritual aspects of yoga. Desikachar realised that his father felt that each action was in itself an act of devotion, that each asana should lead to inner calm. Similarly, Krishnamacharya's emphasis on the breath was intended to convey spiritual implications along with physiological benefits. According to Desikachar, Krishnamacharya describes the breathing cycle as an act of surrender: Inhale and God approaches. Hold the breath, and God remains with you. Breathe out, and you draw near to God. Hold the exhalation, and surrender to God. During the last years of his life, Krishnamacharya introduced Vedic chanting into yoga practice, always adjusting the number of verses to coincide with the length of time students should remain in the postures. This technique can help students to keep the mind focused and prepares them for meditation. When Krishnamacharya leaned towards the spiritual aspects of yoga, he respected individual beliefs. One of his oldest students, Patricia Miller, who teaches today in Washington D.C., recalls that he led meditations by offering alternatives. He instructed his students to close their eyes, observing the space between their eyebrows, and then he would say: Think of God. If not God, the sun. If not the sun, your parents. Miller explains that Krishnamacharya demanded only one condition: that we admit that there is a power greater than ourselves.
Preserving a legacy
Desikachar today propagates his father's legacy, running the Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram in Chennai, India, where all of Krishnamacharya's different approaches to yoga are taught and his writings are published in translation. In time, Desikachar embraced the full range of his father's teachings, including his reverence for God. Desikachar, however, understands Western scepticism and emphasises the need to strip yoga of its Hinduism, so that it remains a vehicle for all people. Krishnamacharya's worldview was rooted in Vedic philosophy, the Western worldview in science. Versed in both, Desikachar sees his role as that of a translator, bringing his father's ancient wisdom to modern ears. Desikachar's main purpose, and that of his son Kausthub, is to share this ancient wisdom with the next generation. We owe our children a better future, he says. His organisation holds classes for children and also for disabled children. And, besides publishing stories and spiritual guides with a contemporary flavour, Kusthub is also producing videos to demonstrate techniques to teach young people, using methods inspired by his grandfather's work in Mysore. Although Desikachar spent nearly three decades as Krishnamacharya's student, he says he has only grasped the basics of his father's teachings. Both Krishnamacharya's interests and personality resemble a kaleidoscope, Yoga was only a fraction of what he knew. Krishnamacharya also studied disciplines such as philology, astrology and also music. In his own Ayurvedic laboratory he prepared herbal formulas. In India he is still better known as a therapist than as a yogi. He was also known as a gourmet, horticulturist and a great card player. But the encyclopaedic knowledge that sometimes made him appear aloof, even arrogant in his youth - intellectually intoxicated, as Iyengar gently characterises him - eventually created the need to communicate better with people. Krishnamacharya realised that an important part of the traditional Indian knowledge he treasured was missing, and decided to open his vast store of knowledge to anyone with healthy interest and sufficient discipline. He felt that yoga had to adapt to the modern world or disappear. There is an Indian saying that every three centuries someone is born to energise a tradition. It is possible that Krishnamacharya was one of these avatars. Having great respect for the past, he did not hesitate to experiment and innovate. By developing and refining different angles, he made yoga accessible to millions of people. This spread and facilitation of yoga to the whole world is his greatest legacy. As diverse as the practices born from Krishnamacharya's lineage may be, the passion and faith in yoga remain the common heritage. The unspoken message provided by his teachings is that yoga is not a static tradition, it is a living, breathing and constantly growing art, through the experiments and experiences of each practitioner. Article from Yoga Journal Magazine - Author Fernando Pagés Ruiz. (translated by Fernando Maureira).
Desikachar today propagates his father's legacy, running the Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram in Chennai, India, where all of Krishnamacharya's different approaches to yoga are taught and his writings are published in translation. In time, Desikachar embraced the full range of his father's teachings, including his reverence for God. Desikachar, however, understands Western scepticism and emphasises the need to strip yoga of its Hinduism, so that it remains a vehicle for all people. Krishnamacharya's worldview was rooted in Vedic philosophy, the Western worldview in science. Versed in both, Desikachar sees his role as that of a translator, bringing his father's ancient wisdom to modern ears. Desikachar's main purpose, and that of his son Kausthub, is to share this ancient wisdom with the next generation. We owe our children a better future, he says. His organisation holds classes for children and also for disabled children. And, besides publishing stories and spiritual guides with a contemporary flavour, Kusthub is also producing videos to demonstrate techniques to teach young people, using methods inspired by his grandfather's work in Mysore. Although Desikachar spent nearly three decades as Krishnamacharya's student, he says he has only grasped the basics of his father's teachings. Both Krishnamacharya's interests and personality resemble a kaleidoscope, Yoga was only a fraction of what he knew. Krishnamacharya also studied disciplines such as philology, astrology and also music. In his own Ayurvedic laboratory he prepared herbal formulas. In India he is still better known as a therapist than as a yogi. He was also known as a gourmet, horticulturist and a great card player. But the encyclopaedic knowledge that sometimes made him appear aloof, even arrogant in his youth - intellectually intoxicated, as Iyengar gently characterises him - eventually created the need to communicate better with people. Krishnamacharya realised that an important part of the traditional Indian knowledge he treasured was missing, and decided to open his vast store of knowledge to anyone with healthy interest and sufficient discipline. He felt that yoga had to adapt to the modern world or disappear. There is an Indian saying that every three centuries someone is born to energise a tradition. It is possible that Krishnamacharya was one of these avatars. Having great respect for the past, he did not hesitate to experiment and innovate. By developing and refining different angles, he made yoga accessible to millions of people. This spread and facilitation of yoga to the whole world is his greatest legacy. As diverse as the practices born from Krishnamacharya's lineage may be, the passion and faith in yoga remain the common heritage. The unspoken message provided by his teachings is that yoga is not a static tradition, it is a living, breathing and constantly growing art, through the experiments and experiences of each practitioner. Article from Yoga Journal Magazine - Author Fernando Pagés Ruiz. (translated by Fernando Maureira).