Skip to main content

One with Everything

My first move was to run down de road and buy a pink and grey yoga mat. I was very excited about my first yoga class. I pictured a group of people standing in front the Taj Mahal in dotis and wife beater vests, the wind blowing lazily, and Mahatma Ghandi directly us in unison to become the change we want to see in the world.

I already had my outfit picked out. My blue hemp rasta t shirt, black tights and pink slippers. I walked up de road with my mat and bottle of water and into the classroom. Looking around, I tried not to react outwardly to what I saw. The little guy to my left decked in nylon tights, squashing his balls into the crease of his pelvic bone and thigh, the guy next to him coming up to about my waist in height, covered in tattoos from the tips of his ears to his knees; the surfer in board shorts trying to look like he walked into "how to be a dickhead 101"; the lady who needed 4 mats...

I was so excited! These are my people, where have they been hiding! I got ready to be enthralled. The instructor walked in...a 45 year old woman who was the most gorgeous thing I've seen in Sydney yet... the butt, the boobs... yum yum!

She came to the middle of the class and proceeded to direct us in a sequence of moves I will later come to call the Dance of the Dotish Dheytis. As the class went on , i realised I had found my new obsession, this was for me, the moves, the music, the feeling, everything I needed to adjust to life in Australia. A little bit of madness to call my own.

I let my mind wonder, thinking of all the lovely yoga clothes I could get to make this worthwhile and the candles and incense I will need to invest in...

"FARRRRRRRRRRRRT"

I open my eyes to see everyone looking at me.

...wuh...de...ass
I tried to convey with my actions and my eyes that it wasn't me, but the lady with the four mats who probably tried to muffle the sound between them. It was no use... I could see it... I would always be the farter girl...

So ever day I trek the long 2 minutes to the yoga centre and become one with everything. A place that has become my inner Kerrie, a place where no one can make me feel unworthy, a place that brings my fantasy right beside my reality..


Comments

Joanne said…
Farter girl!!! HAHA! ROTFLMAO! :D
"a place that brings my fantasy right beside my reality.." whoosh! check diction nah!

-Joanne...de hayshun sensayshun one.

Popular posts from this blog

Hello To the Rest of my Life

I slowly traced my name in the sand. Around me I could hear the waves come to life from a night of dark calmness. 7 am, reading on Sunset Beach was never a place or time I expected I’d ever be. I looked out onto the water and saw him swimming. Above him a plane painstakingly maneuvered its way to the runaway behind me. I braced myself for the sudden gush of wind that would follow its taxi. The sun streamed down on my shoulders as I sat daydreaming. I felt completely content… not a worry, not a care, not a reason to stress, perfect calm. I watched the wind blow lightly over my name etched in sand and I began thinking back over the last few days. I mapped a situation in my head that never unfolded. From the crazy little clues he kept leaving for me to the final invitation for lunch at the lighthouse, I began to imagine myself being pushed over the edge of the cliff by the swift fluid movement of his palm. Fear began to set in. The ride to Grand Revere was full of laughter and singing, wi...

Just a Little Scrunter

Even at 7 am, the streets were filled with music. It was like everyone around wanted to shout in some way that the year was almost over, soon it would be time to dust off the Christmas tree and swap the normal curtains for the special Christmas ones. The Corner of Frederick and Park had a special feeling surrounding it. Inside Excellent Plaza, you could see the decorations being hung at Emdad's , ready for the next wave of Christmas enthusiasts to come in and grapple over the price for a few glass angels and furry lint covered santas . I love the smell that some from Charlotte Street during December. A smooth, fresh mix of rum, cigarette smoke, roast pork, pastelles and puncha creme wafts through the air and around the corners of each street it intertwines with, making shoppers dizzy and slightly crazy. I remember times I would walk along Brian Lara Promenade, from Royal Bank to Roytec , the sound of parang coming from Excellent City Centre ( de bigger one before it burnt d...
Nothing gives me pleasure more than stealing books. Whether i take them from a library or an individual, the thrill is the same. And if someone is willing to actually lend me a book with the expectation i will return it when i am done, the thrill increases tremendously. When I was around 5 my mom seemed to catch on to this. After theffin about five of my aunt's Miles and Boon from de cardboard box under the step by aunty Mels , and trying real hard to sniff out the bookworms, and finally attempting to chew the pages, my mom bought me my first set of real books to devour on my own. It is a beautiful set of Sesame Street Encyclopedias! Complete with a run through every country by Oscar and Telly Monster soap operas.. i was in love. She followed this with a set of Junior Britannica Encyclopedias and a junior scrabble. I wonder what she was pullin , because i was outside making mud cakes with baby powder icing to feed Ren and Mimi, under the two table horse covered by ah curtain ...