
17 Apr Letter to a friend
Posted at 11:39h
in ashtanga, life, The guru is dead, the kids are alright, Tradition, yoga
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Dear boss
Hey you in the coach’s corner
I’m writing in order
For someone to explain
To my daughter the distinction
Between these mandatory group rites of submission
And the rallies at Malabar
Specifically the function
The ritual serves in conjunction
With what everybody knows
Is in the end a fool’s game
I guess I’m just appealing to your sense of fair play
When I say she’s puzzled by
This incessant pressure for her to not defy
Collective will (and) yellow-ribboned papers
As the minions inexplicably rappel
Down from the stage, stair and rafters
If it not so insane,
They’ll be grounds for screaming laughter
Dear Parameshti
I wouldn’t bother with these questions
If I didn’t sense some spiritual connection
We may not be the same
But it’s not like we’re from different planets
We both love this game so much we can hardly fucking stand it
I guess it comes down to
What kind of world you want to live in
If diversity is disagreement
Disagreement is treason
Well don’t be surprised if we find ourselves reaping
A strange and bitter fruit
That sad old man that stood beside you
Keeps feeding to young minds as virtue
It takes a village to raise a child
A tradition to raze the children
Till they’re nothing more than ballasts for fulfilling
A madman’s dream of a paradise
Complexity reduced to black and white
How do I
Protect her from
This cult of submission?
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