I teach the way I was taught to live.
I didn't come to yoga to perform it. I came because it answered something in me, quietly, over years.
Everything I offer here, I have practised on myself first.
I grew up inside a lineage.
My roots are in the Bihar School of Yoga — a tradition that treats yoga as a way of living, not exercise. I was raised within it, returning again and again to a place that taught me how to meet my own life.
What I learned wasn't a set of poses. It was a way of beginning each day with awareness, of giving the hours a shape, of letting the body lead the mind back to stillness. I carry that into the ordinary world — and help others do the same.
The real practice was never on the mat. It was the other twenty-three hours.
Then I learned the body a second way.
I wanted to understand not only what the practices did, but why. So I took a Master's in Yoga Science — the nervous system, the hormones, the breath, the way each practice meets a living anatomy.
It changed how I teach. When I guide a breath or a posture, I can show you exactly where it lands inside you — why the humming breath calms a racing heart, why stress unsettles sleep, where the yoga actually lives in the body.
What practice does
A way of beginning each day with awareness. A shape for the hours. The body learning to lead the mind back to stillness. The first language I was taught.
Why it lands
The nervous system, the hormones, the breath, the precise place inside the body where each practice arrives. The map that lets me show you exactly what's happening.
The ashram gave me the practice. The science showed me the map. I hold both.
I have taught for years —
and I am still learning.
In Bombay I taught for a long while — including people whose lives leave them little room for their own health, and students managing serious conditions. A steady, gentle practice doesn't erase illness; it changes how a person meets it.
I'm building this practice here with an open heart — fewer students, more care. I would rather teach a small circle deeply than a crowd in passing.
Because being truly heard is where healing begins.
I know what it is to carry something quietly, with no one to ask. So I begin by listening. Often that is where the first weight lifts — before a single movement.
I'm not here to fix you. I'm here to help you come back to yourself — and keep coming back, gently, for the rest of your life.
That is the art of returning. It's what I practise, and what I teach.
A short list of the things behind these hands.
The easiest way to know me is to practise with me.
One hour, online, no commitment — just begin.
Reserve your place — Saturday 7:30 PM