Short story: The Old Man and the Sea of Asanas by Anthony Burgess

Anthony Burgess

‘You get the first hour free,’ the white uniformed receptionist said as she flicked her slightly waved long jet-black hair. A gesture similar to what Miss Piggy would do just before she whacked Kermit. I took a tentative step back just in case.

Her seemingly involuntary mane action preceded piercingly direct eye contact and a smile of utter white brilliance which could dazzle a badger in the dark. Those eyes and those teeth, both acutely emphasised by the surrounding palette of suntan, which I did not think achievable from even a month on the beach in Langland Bay in August.

It was a shade of deep tan I felt was more oak than mahogany, but definitely a hard wood. I felt her overall facial expression and body language to be slightly sinister, the sort of equivalent of a medieval challenge that preceded a slap with a glove around the face if I should dare to interrupt.

But quite unintentionally and without any conscious decision on my behalf, my mouth opened to speak before putting my brain fully into gear. Something that was occurring ever more often these days.

‘Yes, I think that’s mentioned in your promotional ‘New Year, New You’ brochure and gift voucher’.

‘That’s correct Sir, and if you’d allow me to continue; As I said the first hour of your taster session is free. This first hour is your introduction to Yoga for the over fifties, followed by a wind down session of mindfulness. Then there is a half hour comfort break. Where you may make full use of our ‘Natures Nectar’ body restorative facility’.

‘Is that the café?’ I enquired.

‘It’s more than a café,’ she sighed. ‘It is a full recovery and regenerative facility, and all refreshments are organic, vegan and importantly nutritious. We pride ourselves on having over twenty-five varieties of infusions,’ and before I could ask if they included the builder’s variety, she made sure she got in before me.

‘After the comfort break, if you would like to participate further there is our gentle swim aerobic session and then we will see how we feel, and if we are not too tired, we will try the personal induction process in the gym for a further hour. ‘.

Who is the we? I wondered.

Eyebrows

My concentration wandered even further as she spoke, I wasn’t listening but just staring at her dark eyebrows. Eyebrows that Frido Kahlo would have been proud of. Those eyebrows or perhaps I should say monobrow was hypnotic, it moved rhythmically and snakelike and weirdly sensuously as she spoke, but then its movement became still but raised on one side. I suddenly realised she had stopped talking and was giving me her ‘death star’ look.

‘Mr Adams, have you been listening?’

‘ Yes, yes of course,’ then frantically tried to recall what she had said. The words gym, swim and mindfulness surfaced and threw me a life raft.

‘ Yes, I’m really looking forward to embracing all my intended new life style experiences today only hope my body comes on the same journey.’ I jovially remarked but failed miserably in achieving a smile in response.

‘Now Mr Adams, your gift vouchers amount to £75, which covers part of your itinerary, but which is fully deductible if you take out an annual membership with us today’.

‘Let me think about that, and I’ll see how I feel later, but if this puts me on the road to a new life, new health and new fitness, as well as washing my weariness away and resetting my body again as your promotional brochure states I would certainly stump up the annual fee today.’

To this she gave me a smile, her best patronising ultra-dazzling smile.

She pointed me in the direction of the changing rooms, and said, ‘Yoga for over fifties will be starting in fifteen minutes, you need to change into something comfortable so just follow the sign for the changing area, the yoga takes place in the Namaste Suite. Enjoy.’

‘One last thing, where are the gents please? I enquired.

‘The non-gender specific restroom is on the left by the changing rooms.” She replied without looking up.
‘Another first for me.’ I thought as I tentatively ventured inside the non-gender specific restroom; to thankfully find there was no open urinal but a series of cubicles with doors, I did remember to lift the seat.

I had difficulty identifying the men’s changing room though. There were two rooms opposite each other, both entrances had pink images of armless lollipop shaped figures with a ball for a head standing on one leg, it took me a while to realise the ladies was depicted by a pink image with a slightly flared upper torso, which meant the gents symbol resembled a thoroughly phallic image.

The actual changing room was very open plan with low lighting, with no cubicles to change in to hide your modesty. There was just a series of benches around three pine panelled walls with ferns cascading down from wooden ceiling rafters, IKEA meets Swiss chalet I thought.

A series of lockers painted with a mural resembling a rain forest covered the fourth wall which I realised by the steam and the noise of running water had showers somewhere behind them. The atmosphere was light years away from all the rugby club changing rooms I had experienced, there wasn’t a hint of the beer, dampness, sweat and muscle lineament. Instead, something far more coco-nutty, flowery and fragrant filled the air. There was even soft background music, which reminded me of George Harrison in his sitar playing era.

Fit-bit

I began to change, firstly taking off my brand new ‘Fit-bit’, which was my Christmas present from my wife along with these vouchers for the ‘Dyffryn Spa, The one stop for body and mind health’.

‘I want you around physically and mentally for a few more years,’ her accompanying card read.

‘I know I’m not the well-honed and oiled machine I once was, and my blood pressure’s a bit on the high side, but what’s wrong with me mentally’? I asked after reading her card.

‘Well, you know love, you’re a bit forgetful these days as if your mind is on other things, and you sometimes stare at people in a funny way. I’m not sure what you’re seeing and you say things too, often before thinking.’ she replied. I couldn’t deny any of that.

I was checking my steps on the fit-bit before I put it in my trousers pocket, only 200, the car park must have been closer than I thought, when a dripping wet naked man came out from the showers, his towel was wrapped around his neck. His arms were a tribute to the tattooist’s art. I couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t a single hair on his head or his torso, but his crotch, Hairy McClary from Donaldson’s Dairy came to mind.

He gave me a smile and a quick nod, put one leg onto the bench and started to dry himself. My eyes never left the invisible spot on the wall directly in-front of me.

‘Please God seal my lips.’ I prayed.

I quickly changed into my ever so tight three-quarter length cargo shorts bought for last year’s holiday to Majorca, then put on a paunch clinging white tee shirt which proudly stated in bold capitals in the front, “The largest fish lie under an overhanging bank”.

The naked man turned and grinned as he read the logo.

I didn’t have trainers, but I did have a pair of faded blue, salt-stained espadrilles that I rammed my feet into, but not my heels in my eagerness to leave the changing room before I said something about that Scottish milkman’s dog.

I pushed my ‘Tesco bag for life’ containing my clothes into a locker, removed the key and headed for the mysterious and hopefully not painful yoga experiences that awaited me in the Namaste suite.

The Namaste Suit

‘Come in, come in, we don’t bite,’ a cheery young female voice said to me as I hovered by the door to the Namaste Suit.’ I had hesitated entering for two reasons. Firstly, because it was clear that there were only women in there and secondly, there was the giveaway signs that they had done this before, you know, the brightly coloured sports leggings and baggy branded tee-shirts with surplus material tied in a knot on one side of their waist, some even had matching headbands which momentarily made me wonder whatever happened to my Jane Fonda workout video.

‘You must be Mr. Adams, I’ve been expecting you, just pick up a mat, that’s right one of those, and bring it down here to the front, as it’s your first time I’ll be gentle’, the cheery voiced, pony tailed female instructor joked.’ I am Naomi by the way, we’re all on first names in here, what is yours?

‘Gomez’, I replied before quickly adding,‘Sorry, that’s my little joke found funny by followers of The Addams Family, my actual name is Gareth.’

Naomi clearly wasn’t a fan of The Addams Family as not even a glimmer of amusement crossed her face, but I did notice one or two of the female yoga devotees smiling, hopefully at the joke and not at me.

‘Now everyone, by your mats please, I want to just quickly run through some basics with Gomez here and our other newbies here today then we’ll try a few asanas,’

‘Touché,’ I mouthed back to Naomi.

‘We don’t need the designer espadrilles Gareth, you can lose them and let those toes feel the mat.’

Her voice and tone then dropped as she soothingly continued, ‘Now everyone the purpose of yoga is to create a balance, a healthy balance that will lead to a vibrant healthy body and mind, through our asanas today we will exercise muscles, nerves and glands. All asanas should be done smoothly and controlled, and all done with awareness so we begin to develop a deep understanding of our body and mind. Our controlled breathing will relax our bodies, our controlled breathing will reduce blood pressure and controlled breathing will improve blood circulation so more oxygen will reach all of our vital organs. This Pranayama practice reduces negative and harmful nervous conditions and fluctuations of our mind are controlled, we will feel lightness and inner peace, better memory and concentration….,’

Glands

Poor Naomi had lost me already, I was still dwelling over the glands bit: I didn’t even notice that she had finished speaking, the silence cut through my imaginations over my glands. I turned around, thankfully everyone was still standing but appeared to be trying to screw their feet into their mats as if they were squashing earwigs.

‘Gareth, we’re doing our first asana, the Mountain Pose, this is where we learn to ground our feet and feel the earth beneath them, what’s that? No, this is not simply standing.’ She rebuked me.

‘Everyone, stand with your feet together, press down opening up all your toes, engage those quadriceps to lift your kneecaps, imagine lifting those knee caps right up to your inner thighs, breath your tummy in and lift your chest, press your shoulders down, feel your shoulder blades coming together, keep those palms against your thighs, breathe deeply and hold. Good, good, now at least ten more breathes everyone.’

I think it must be true when someone says men can’t multi task. I could either lift my knee caps or press my shoulders down, but I just couldn’t do it simultaneously, so I left my knee caps where they had always been and attempted to do the rest whilst trying even harder to look as if I was succeeding, I felt the first drip of perspiration run down my right temple and I had to ensure my tongue wasn’t sticking out.

‘Good, good everyone, now while we’re standing, we’ll try the Katichakrasna, the standing spinal twist, those of you who’ve been before will know this. Right, as we just did, spread those toes feel the earth, keep your feet firmly on the mat, raise your arms in front of you to shoulder height, palms facing, now move your torso left , keeping those arms outstretched , now slowly move your torso to the right, remember to breath, good and exhale, now turn your head to look back over your shoulder, keep those arms straight, breathe, come back to centre, now turn to your left and repeat, Ok at least ten more twists , then let your arms down the same time as you slowly breath out. Now your spine should be more flexible, this asana also relieves constipation.’

I thought to myself that constipation would have been very welcome to the alternative situation that was developing down below, don’t think about it Gareth I told myself, clench for Wales boy bach.

‘Right, everyone, go and grab a chair and put it by the front of your mats.’

There is a God, a breather and not too soon I thought as I placed the chair by my mat.

‘No Gareth, they’re not for sitting in, we’re going to try the triangle asana with the aid of a chair to lean on.’

Mind over matter Gareth boy, mind over matter, just think of the benefits, I continually repeated to myself quietly in my mind, it became my mantra.

Arglwydd mawr, the sweat was now pouring out of me, I could see droplets hitting the mat that were running off my head as I leant on the chair in this triangle position. I would have swopped my debenture in the Principality Stadium at that moment to have a sit in that chair.

‘Good, good everyone, I think we’ll wind down this session with our final asana, a long relaxing shavansa.’

‘Oh, please God no more, no more,’ I again thought to myself.

‘Now just put your chairs back and come and lie on your mats, lie flat on your back, eyes closed, breathe deeply, that’s it, a nice slow rhythm, now starting at the top of your head gradually scan your body from head to toe, relaxing one part at a time, imagine you’re getting heavier and spreading out a little bit more on the mat, notice which parts feel relaxed, comfortable or uncomfortable, think what’s light and what’s heavy . If other thoughts appear just breathe them away, just let yourself be carried back to your place of stillness, breath quieter……’

Ferns

I was young again and lying with my girlfriend and soon to be wife on a bed of flattened ferns in Cwm woods. This was our sanctuary that we would escape to. It was where our love for each other was made complete. The only witnesses being the dappled sun and the numerous song birds with their uplifting and harmonic birdsong.

We would lie in each other’s arms, sometimes we would talk, other times we would just lie still alongside each other, our fingers entwinned. The earthy smell of our squashed fern mattress, the breeze gently rustling the still standing ones that surrounded and hid us, or grasshoppers’ chaffing said far more than we ever could to each other. The perfume from her hair reminded me of the evening fragrance from swathes of bluebells and honeysuckle, and as she smiled at me her lips gently parted, inviting me to kiss them once again…

I was gently awoken by a smiling Naomi softly shaking my shoulder.

‘I think I’m going to buy that annual membership,’ were the only words that came from my mouth.