I am not much into physical fitness. Those of you who know me will say that is obvious. But in any case, just for the record as they say, let me emphasize that aerobics to me sounds like a flying ball point pen named after that famous Bic pen. And yoga is only for twisted souls.

But last night I had the most uncanny dream. Let me clarify that I am more a day dreamer than a person who dreams in his sleep. So this dream in the depths of my slumber was rare and funny.

There was this man in orange robes. He had flowing black mane. And a thick beard. His eyes were hypnotic as if he knew the secret of the world and wanted to share it with me and me alone. He kept doing things with his limbs that defied imagination. And he didn’t walk. He floated around.

All that I took in my stride. But his head was facing backwards. And that kind of threw me out of gear. This visage of a saintly apparition floating towards me with his head twisted around was a bit eerie and quite honestly, scary.

I wanted to talk to him and tell him to get his act straight so I followed him. That way we were face to face. He kept mumbling something that I assumed was some tantric chant that gave him the power to ‘look towards London, and walk towards Tokyo’. But on careful listening the message unravelled itself.

‘Mera sir phir gaya’ he kept repeating to himself. Mera sir phir gaya’. While my original instinct was to tell him that THAT was obvious, I resisted and tried to listen further. I was soon rewarded.

He gestured to me in a contorted fashion and asked me to listen. Tell me, he said, tell me in my real life to stick to yoga and keep away from politics. When I looked at him in surprise he repeated his instructions which went like this.

Just cover my eyes and give me a great big kick on my butt. A kick so hard that my head spins back into normal position. And after it does, take your right hand, wrap it around my throat…and squeeze. Squeeze till I choke and you see my eyes opening with the wisdom of agony. Thus and only thus will I be cured. Rid of this ‘bhooth’ that forces me to dabble in areas that do not concern me and where my expertise is not even suspect.

Please do this immediately, the apparition said. And if you can’t, please tell one of your friends who may have access to me, to do the needful. Hurry, the fate of yoga is in your hands, he said. And vanished.

I woke up with a start. And was shocked to find myself in Padmasana.

I am still stuck in that pose.

So will someone please do me a favour and go up to Yoga Master Grade 5. You know how to recognise him, right? His face looks the other way.

Just go up to him. Cover his eyes. And plant the mother of all kicks on his backside. And keep kicking till he straightens out.

Hopefully that will release me from my spell…from my Padmasana.