Rajvishnu
I’m Vaishnavi, and my life has always been about balance—between my passion for yoga and my thirst for adventure. In my 30s now, I’ve carved out a path that allows me to blend both seamlessly. As a yoga and pranayama instructor, I spend my days guiding others toward inner peace and mindfulness, but my own practice extends far beyond the mat. Yoga, for me, is not just about the physical postures or breathing techniques—it’s a way of life, a journey inward that keeps me grounded no matter where my feet (or wheels) take me.
I freelance, which means I get to set my own schedule and follow my own rhythm. This freedom fuels my love for travel, especially to the mountains. There’s something about the Himalayas that speaks to my soul, pulling me back time and again. Whenever I feel the urge to disconnect from the rush of city life in Delhi, I pack my bags, hop on my Bullet motorcycle, and head toward the cool, serene heights. Riding solo on those winding mountain roads gives me a sense of liberation, a reminder that the world is vast and full of experiences waiting to be explored.
But beyond the physical journeys, what I crave most is spiritual exploration. My love for yoga naturally led me to search for deeper, more profound experiences that go beyond just physical wellness. I’ve always believed that travel can be a spiritual practice in itself, and every new place I visit has something to teach me—not just about the world, but about myself.
The Amarnath Yatra was a journey unlike any I had experienced before. It’s a pilgrimage to the Amarnath Cave in the Himalayas, where devotees visit the sacred ice Shiva Lingam, believed to be a manifestation of Lord Shiva. The trek itself is both physically challenging and spiritually intense, with the high altitude and rugged terrain testing your endurance.
For me, the Yatra wasn’t just about reaching the cave but about the profound sense of devotion that enveloped me along the way. Surrounded by fellow pilgrims, each step felt like a surrender to something greater than myself. When I finally reached the cave and saw the ice Lingam, I felt a deep connection to Lord Shiva, as though I was in the presence of pure divinity. The atmosphere was charged with spirituality, and I left feeling a sense of bliss, gratitude, and inner peace.
That experience stayed with me, sparking a desire to continue exploring the spiritual side of life. It’s what ultimately led me to my next journey to Vaishno Devi.
After the profound experience of the Amarnath Yatra, my heart yearned for more. The spiritual high from that journey had left me with a deep desire to continue my exploration of the divine. That’s when the idea of visiting Vaishno Devi came to me. I had heard stories from my mother about the powerful goddess who resides in the mountains, and I felt an undeniable pull toward the temple. So, I didn’t hesitate—packing a small bag, I hopped on my Bullet and set off alone for Vaishno Devi.
The ride itself was exhilarating. The further I moved away from the city and into the mountains, the more at peace I felt. The roads were winding, the air fresh and cool, and the journey was a meditative experience in itself. Riding solo gives me time to reflect, to let go of the noise, and to connect with something deeper within. I was eager to feel the energy of the temple, to be in the presence of the goddess Vaishno Devi.
Once I reached Katra, the base town for the Vaishno Devi pilgrimage, I found a modest hotel and checked in. It was a hot summer evening, and after the long ride, I was tired but excited. The first thing I did was make myself a cup of tea from the kettle in my room. Sitting by the window, sipping my tea, I could already feel the divine atmosphere surrounding the place. It was as though the entire town buzzed with spiritual energy, and I felt more and more connected to it with each passing moment.
After resting for a while, I freshened up, eager to visit the temple. The journey to Vaishno Devi is unique; unlike most temples, you don’t simply walk in—there’s a trek involved. The temple is nestled in a cave on the Trikuta Mountains, and getting there requires both physical effort and mental devotion. I prepared myself for the trek, knowing it would be a few hours before I could reach the temple, but the excitement kept me energized.
As I made my way up the mountain, the air grew cooler, and the energy more vibrant. I remembered the stories my mother had told me about the goddess, about how she had chosen this cave as her eternal abode after defeating evil. The story resonated deeply with me as I climbed, my mind meditating on her power, her strength. I felt like every step brought me closer not just physically but spiritually to the goddess herself.
After what felt like both an eternity and a blink, I finally arrived at the entrance to the Vaishno Devi cave. The atmosphere was electric—devotees from all over were gathered, some chanting, some meditating, all waiting for a glimpse of the goddess. As I entered the cave, the sense of devotion in the air was almost tangible. The darshan of Vaishno Devi Ma was a moment of pure bliss. The cave itself has such a mystical aura, and being in the presence of the goddess felt surreal. I remembered my mother’s words about the goddess protecting and guiding those who come to her with faith, and I felt that protection enveloping me.
After the darshan, I found a spot in the temple hall and sat down to meditate. The energy was so powerful, I couldn’t resist closing my eyes and sinking deep into meditation. The chants of the other devotees echoed through the cave, and I lost track of time, my mind fully immersed in the divine vibrations around me. I stayed there until the evening aarti, absorbing the peace, the love, and the blessings of the goddess. When the aarti began, it was like nothing I had ever experienced before—waves of devotion and spiritual energy filled the air, and I was swept up in the collective prayer of all the devotees present.
After the aarti, I didn’t want to leave. I sat there for a few more moments, feeling the presence of the goddess all around me. But as the temple was closing for the night, I knew it was time to head back. As I walked out of the temple, my heart was full. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for everything the goddess had given me—guiding me through difficult times, helping me find peace, and blessing me with this beautiful life.
On my way back to the hotel, something unexpected happened. Just outside the temple, I encountered a sadhu. He was sitting quietly by the path, his eyes serene but full of wisdom. As I passed him, he looked up and gave me a warm smile, then reached out to bless me. His hand touched my head lightly, and in that moment, I felt as though I had been blessed directly by the goddess herself. It was such a powerful experience, one that left me in awe. The energy from that blessing lingered long after I had left his presence.
I walked back to the hotel in a peaceful daze, my mind replaying the events of the day. Once I was back in my room, I made myself another cup of tea and sat by the window, reflecting on everything. The goddess had not only blessed me during the darshan but also through that mysterious sadhu. I finished my tea, grateful for the entire experience, and after a simple dinner at a nearby restaurant, I was ready to rest.
That night, I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. But little did I know, the journey wasn’t over yet. Something strange and profound was about to happen—a dream that would change the course of my pilgrimage.
That night, after the beautiful experience at Vaishno Devi temple, I drifted into one of the deepest sleeps I’ve ever had. My body was tired from the long trek, but my heart was full. It was early morning, around 4:30 a.m., when the dream came.
In the dream, I found myself climbing a steep mountain, but it wasn’t the familiar path to Vaishno Devi. This mountain was different—its peaks were sharp, and the path was narrow. I felt as though I was being pulled upwards, but it wasn’t by my own effort. There was an invisible force guiding me, and in front of me, leading the way, was the sadhu I had met the previous night. He walked steadily, his robes flowing as he moved, and every so often, he would glance back to make sure I was following.
The air around us was cool and thin, and the higher we climbed, the more surreal everything felt. The landscape became otherworldly, and though I wasn’t afraid, I felt a sense of anticipation, as though something important was about to happen. The sadhu remained silent but his presence was reassuring, urging me to keep moving forward.
As we reached the top of the mountain, he turned toward me with a kind smile, but his eyes were intense, filled with a depth I couldn’t understand. He motioned for me to stop. I looked around and realized that there was no one else with us—just me, the sadhu, and the mountain. Suddenly, I noticed something strange. My head felt light, too light. I reached up instinctively to touch my hair, but there was nothing there. My hair, which had been shoulder-length, was completely gone. My head was shaved smooth, bare under the morning sky.
In the dream, I didn’t feel alarmed—only a sense of inevitability. It felt like a natural transformation, as though shedding my hair was a symbol of shedding the past, of offering something of myself to the divine. The sadhu’s smile widened as he looked at me, his eyes filled with approval. He raised his hand, blessed me once more, and without saying a word, he pointed toward the horizon where the sun was just beginning to rise. And that’s when I woke up.
I shot up in bed, my heart racing. The dream had felt so real that it took me a moment to adjust to the dark hotel room around me. I glanced at the clock—it was exactly 4:30 a.m., the same time I had been in the dream. My hand instinctively went to my hair, and I was relieved to feel it still there, soft and real under my fingers. But the dream had left me feeling restless, as though it was more than just a dream—it felt like a sign, a message from the divine.
I got up from bed, still shaken by the vividness of the dream. Walking over to the mirror in the room, I stared at my reflection. The dream replayed in my mind, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just a random dream, but something I had to act on. The image of my bald head kept flashing in my mind, and I knew deep down what I had to do.
Standing there in front of the mirror, I made up my mind. The dream wasn’t just a coincidence—it felt like a clear message, a call to surrender something physical as an offering to the divine. I had never been overly attached to my hair. I’d experimented with short styles, cut it in various ways, but this was different. This felt like a spiritual shedding, a symbol of letting go of my ego, my past, and offering myself fully to the goddess.
As I stood there in front of the mirror, trimmer in hand, I could feel a sense of excitement bubbling inside me. The dream, the blessing from the sadhu, and the deep spiritual connection I had felt—it all led to this moment. My heart was steady, my mind clear. I was ready.
I switched on the clippers, and the soft hum filled the quiet room. Without hesitation, I brought them to my head and made the first pass through my hair. I watched as the clippers glided effortlessly, leaving behind a smooth, bare strip on my scalp. The sound of the hair falling to the ground was almost hypnotic, and I felt a strange exhilaration rush through me. I had no second thoughts, only a growing sense of liberation.
With each pass of the clippers, more of my hair tumbled down, gathering in soft piles at my feet. I couldn’t help but smile. I was enjoying every second of it, watching my reflection change with every stroke. The process felt cathartic, as though each fallen strand was taking away pieces of my past—old attachments, worries, and unnecessary weight. I ran the clippers again and again, each motion deliberate and satisfying. The coolness of the air on my exposed scalp was a new sensation, and I reveled in it.
As the last of my hair fell, I reached up and gently touched my newly shaved head. The smoothness under my fingertips was electrifying. I felt a deep connection to my own body, as if I was rediscovering myself. But I wasn’t done yet. I reached for the razor next, determined to make the experience complete.
I lathered my head, the foam cool against my skin, and began carefully shaving away the remaining stubble. The razor glided effortlessly, and I savored every stroke. There was something incredibly intimate about the act—like I was honoring myself in a way I hadn’t before. I wasn’t just removing hair, I was embracing a whole new part of my identity.
Once I finished, I rinsed my head and stood back to admire the result. My scalp gleamed under the soft hotel lights, and I couldn’t stop touching it, marveling at how smooth and clean it felt. I looked at my reflection, and for the first time in a long while, I felt truly free. My bald head felt like a symbol of renewal, of strength, of the journey I was on.
As I stood there, smiling at the mirror, I felt a deep sense of pride and joy. This wasn’t just a physical change—it was a spiritual transformation, a personal declaration that I was ready to embrace whatever the goddess had in store for me. I had let go of something, and in return, I had gained a deeper connection to myself and to the divine.
Feeling light, liberated, and full of energy, I quickly showered, letting the water wash away the remnants of my old self. The sensation of water on my bare scalp was incredible, refreshing and invigorating. I dressed, feeling reborn, and headed out to the temple for the morning aarti, knowing that this moment would stay with me forever.
As I stepped out of the shower, droplets of water cascading down my body, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of exhilaration. The steam filled the bathroom, and as I wiped the fog from the mirror, my reflection took me by surprise. The smooth, bald dome of my head gleamed under the soft light, and I was instantly drawn to it. I reached up and gently touched my scalp, my fingertips gliding over the newly exposed skin.
The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced. My fingers roamed across the surface, exploring the curves and contours of my head. It felt incredibly freeing, as if I was rediscovering a part of myself I had long forgotten. Each stroke sent a wave of warmth through me, a reminder of the transformation I had undergone. I was embracing a new identity, one that felt closer to my true self.
I closed my eyes and savored the moment, allowing myself to fully absorb the feeling. The cool air brushed against my scalp, heightening my awareness of my body. It was a sensation of vulnerability and strength combined—a beautiful contradiction. I felt like a blank canvas, ready to be filled with new experiences and deeper connections.
As I continued to run my fingers over my bald head, I felt a surge of confidence wash over me. It was as if the act of shaving my hair had removed not just the physical strands but also the layers of doubt and fear that had been building up inside me. I was ready to face the world anew, to embrace whatever came next on my spiritual journey.
With every gentle caress, I could feel my mind quieting, and a sense of peace enveloped me. I found myself reflecting on the dreams and visions I had experienced, the blessings from the goddess and the sadhu. I felt an overwhelming gratitude for this moment, for the courage to take this step, and for the journey that lay ahead.
Finally, I took a step back from the mirror, still mesmerized by my reflection. The image of the woman staring back at me felt more authentic, more aligned with my spirit. I could see the determination in my eyes, the clarity in my expression. It was as if the act of shedding my hair had revealed a deeper truth about who I was.
With renewed energy, I got dressed, my heart racing with anticipation. I couldn’t wait to return to the temple for the morning aarti, to share this newfound connection with the goddess. As I stepped out of my hotel room and into the cool morning air, I knew this was just the beginning. My bald head was not just a change in appearance—it was a celebration of my journey, a reflection of my inner strength, and a symbol of my devotion. I was ready to embrace every moment ahead of me.
The next morning, I awoke with the first rays of sunlight filtering through the window, illuminating my bare scalp. The memory of my transformative act from the previous day flooded back, and I felt a wave of excitement wash over me. Today was a special day, and I could hardly contain my eagerness to return to the Vaishno Devi temple for the morning aarti.
I quickly dressed, my heart racing as I made my way to the temple. The path was familiar now, but it felt even more sacred today. The cool morning air invigorated me, and I felt a deep sense of connection to the divine with each step I took. The temple was alive with the sounds of chanting and devotion, and as I entered, the fragrance of flowers and incense enveloped me, welcoming me back to this holy space.
As I moved through the temple, I felt the energy pulsing around me. I joined the gathering of devotees, eager to participate in the morning aarti. The atmosphere was charged with spirituality, and I closed my eyes, allowing the vibrations of the chanting to resonate within me. Each mantra felt like a blessing, lifting my spirit and deepening my connection to the goddess.
After the aarti, I took a moment to sit quietly in the temple hall, reflecting on the journey that had brought me here. I felt a strong urge to seek out the sadhu I had met the night before. It was as if our encounter had been etched into my memory, and I needed to share my experience with him.
As I stepped outside, I spotted him sitting peacefully on a stone bench, his serene demeanor radiating wisdom. My heart leaped with joy at the sight of him. I approached slowly, reverently, feeling as though I was walking toward a sacred presence.
“Namaste, Baba,” I greeted him, bowing my head in respect.
He looked up at me, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Ah, my daughter. You’ve returned.”
“I have,” I said, my voice trembling with emotion. “I wanted to tell you about my dream last night. It was so vivid and powerful. You were there, guiding me up a mountain, and when I reached the top, I had no hair. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and acceptance. It was like a calling.”
The sadhu listened intently, his eyes sparkling with understanding. “Dreams are often the whispers of the divine,” he said, his voice soft yet commanding. “They guide us toward our truth, toward the sacrifices we must make to align with our higher selves.”
“I felt compelled to shave my head after the dream,” I continued, touching my scalp lightly. “It was a surrender, a way to connect more deeply with the goddess. I’ve never felt this free before.”
The sadhu nodded, a knowing smile gracing his lips. “You have embraced a new chapter in your life. The goddess has recognized your devotion. She will guide you, and you will find strength in your vulnerability.”
As he spoke, he reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out a small, intricately carved rudraksha bead. He held it out to me, his eyes filled with warmth. “This is for you, dear one. A gift from the goddess. Keep it close to your heart, and it will bring you peace and strength in your journey.”
I took the rudraksha in my hand, feeling its smooth texture against my palm. A sense of gratitude washed over me, and tears filled my eyes. “Thank you, Baba. This means more to me than I can express.”
“Wear it as a reminder of your connection to the divine and your commitment to your path,” he said, his voice soothing. “You are never alone in your journey.”
I placed the rudraksha around my neck, feeling its weight as a comforting presence. It was a tangible reminder of the blessing I had received and the path I was on. As I looked into the sadhu’s eyes, I felt an overwhelming sense of belonging and purpose.
After a few more moments of sharing our thoughts, I thanked him again, my heart full of joy. I turned to leave, ready to embrace the day ahead. As I walked away, I felt a deep sense of connection not only to the temple but also to my own spirit. The goddess had guided me, and I was excited to explore where this new journey would take me.
After the deeply transformative experience at the Vaishno Devi temple, I felt invigorated and spiritually enriched as I prepared for my journey back to Delhi. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, and as I mounted my bike, I took a moment to breathe in the fresh mountain air, grateful for the lessons learned and the divine blessings I had received.
The ride back was filled with a sense of anticipation and reflection. I navigated the winding roads with ease, my mind racing with thoughts about my family. I was eager to share my experience with them—my transformative journey, my shaved head, and the precious rudraksha that now hung around my neck. It felt important to convey not just the physical change in my appearance but also the profound emotional and spiritual growth I had experienced.
As I entered the bustling streets of Delhi, the familiar chaos greeted me—a stark contrast to the serenity of the temple. I parked my bike and took a moment to gather myself before heading into our apartment. With every step toward the door, my heart raced with both excitement and a hint of nervousness. I wondered how my family would react to my new look.
Pushing the door open, I was immediately met with the comforting scents of home. My sister was the first to notice me, her eyes widening in surprise. “Vaishnavi! What happened?” she exclaimed, rushing over to examine my newly shaved head.
“I know, I know! It’s a big change,” I laughed, running my hand over my smooth scalp. “But I had an incredible journey at Vaishno Devi, and this was part of my experience. It’s a symbol of my growth.”
My sister’s surprise quickly transformed into admiration. “You look beautiful! It really suits you. I can’t believe you went through with it!”
Before I could respond, my mother entered the room, and her reaction was more subdued. She paused mid-sentence, her expression shifting from curiosity to a hint of concern. “Vaishnavi, is that really you? What have you done to your hair?”
I smiled warmly, trying to reassure her. “Mom, it’s okay! I promise I’m still me. This is a part of my spiritual journey. I felt called to do it, and I feel more like myself than ever.”
Her expression softened slightly, but I could still see a flicker of worry in her eyes. “I just didn’t expect such a drastic change. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, Mom! I’m more than okay. I’ve had some incredible experiences lately,” I replied, wanting to share the magic of my journey with her. “I met a sadhu, and he blessed me. He gave me this,” I said, lifting the rudraksha bead for her to see.
As I explained my experience at the temple, the feelings of peace and fulfillment radiated from me. Slowly, my mother’s apprehension transformed into curiosity, and by the time I finished recounting my journey, her eyes sparkled with intrigue. “I guess if it brings you happiness and peace, then I support you. I just want you to be happy,” she said, wrapping me in a warm embrace.
My father joined us, and as he entered the room, I sensed a different energy. He looked me over, taking in my bald head with a calm acceptance. “Vaishnavi, I’ve always said you should follow your heart. If this is what feels right to you, then I think it’s wonderful,” he said with a proud smile.
Feeling buoyed by their acceptance, I spent the evening sharing stories from my trip. My sister and I laughed over the wild adventures of the journey, and I recounted the profound moments of meditation and connection I had experienced. The atmosphere shifted from surprise to celebration, filled with love and understanding.
As night fell and we gathered around the dinner table, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. The experience at Vaishno Devi had not only transformed me but had also strengthened the bond with my family. We shared food, laughter, and stories, and I knew in my heart that this journey was just the beginning.
That night, as I lay in bed, I touched the rudraksha around my neck and reflected on everything that had transpired. I felt an unwavering connection to my family, my spiritual path, and the world around me. I realized that while my appearance may have changed, the essence of who I was remained the same—an explorer at heart, ready to embrace whatever life had in store for me.
The weekend came quickly, and my excitement grew as my sister and I prepared for our trip to Goa. The vibrant beaches, lively markets, and the promise of adventure beckoned us, and I could hardly wait to immerse myself in the sun-soaked atmosphere. My sister had always been my partner in crime, and this trip felt like the perfect opportunity for us to bond and create lasting memories.
As the vibrant atmosphere of Goa enveloped us, I couldn’t help but feel that my new colorful style was just the beginning of my adventurous spirit. However, I had an idea that had been lingering in my mind since I arrived: I wanted to experience a proper head shave, but this time with a twist—a chance to embrace the beauty of being bald again and feel that liberating sensation of a fresh shave.
After spending a fun day on the beach and enjoying the local cuisine with my sister, I decided to visit Goa Glam once more, this time with a different request. My sister joined me, her excitement mirroring my own as we entered the salon. The friendly stylist from my previous visit was busy with another client, so I looked around and noticed a bald lady barber working nearby. Her shaved head gleamed under the salon lights, and she carried herself with an air of confidence and style.
“Hey there! I’m thinking about getting a head shave today,” I said, approaching her with enthusiasm.
“Sounds like a plan!” she replied, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I’m Maya. I can help you with that. You’ve got a little growth—just about a week, huh?”
I smiled, nodding. “Yeah, just seven days since I shaved it off completely. I loved the feeling, but I want to experience the smoothness again.”
“Trust me, there’s nothing like the feeling of a fresh head shave. It’s liberating,” she said, preparing her tools with practiced ease. “You know, I’ve been shaving my head for years now. It’s my signature look, and I absolutely love it.”
As she spoke, I couldn’t help but admire her boldness. “What inspired you to go bald?” I asked, curious about her journey.
Maya smiled, her expression reflective. “Well, it started as a rebellious act. I wanted to break free from societal norms and embrace my true self. Over time, I realized that I felt empowered and confident with a shaved head. It’s become a part of my identity.”
I nodded, feeling a connection to her words. “I can relate to that! Since I shaved my head, I’ve felt a sense of freedom and authenticity that I never experienced before. It’s like shedding old layers and embracing a new chapter in my life.”
“Exactly! And you look fabulous with that fresh start. Plus, bald heads have a certain elegance to them,” she said, grinning as she draped a cape around my shoulders.
I chuckled, appreciating her enthusiasm. “Thanks! I’ve been wanting to try it again. There’s something about the sensation of a razor gliding over my scalp that’s just so satisfying.”
With that, she began the shave, her movements steady and gentle. The warm lather enveloped my head, and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to relax as I savored the experience. The sound of the razor gliding against my skin was soothing, and I felt a wave of joy wash over me with each stroke.
“How does it feel?” Maya asked, her tone playful as she continued working.
“It feels incredible!” I replied, feeling the weight of the world lift off my shoulders. “I can’t believe I waited so long to do this again.”
As she expertly navigated the contours of my head, I felt like I was in good hands. There was something intimate about the process, the connection between us as she shared tips about maintaining a bald look.
“Honestly, it’s all about confidence. Once you embrace it, you can pull off any look,” Maya said, rinsing the razor before moving to the finishing touches. “And a good moisturizer is key; it keeps your scalp looking fresh.”
“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” I said, smiling. “Your bald head looks amazing! Do you ever miss having hair?”
She laughed lightly, shaking her head. “Not at all! I used to spend so much time styling my hair, and now I just wake up and go. It’s incredibly liberating. Plus, I get to experiment with different accessories—scarves, hats, you name it!”
By the time Maya finished the shave, I was filled with exhilaration. I opened my eyes to catch a glimpse of my reflection. My head was smooth and glistening, free of any hair. I felt light and free, a sense of empowerment coursing through me.
“Wow, you look stunning!” my sister exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration. “That’s an incredible look, Vaishnavi!”
“Thank you so much, Maya! This is exactly what I wanted,” I said, beaming at my reflection. “You’re amazing!”
“It was a pleasure! Remember, own your look, and wear it with pride,” she said, patting me on the back as I stood up.
As I left the salon, the sun shining on my newly shaved head, I felt a renewed sense of self. The experience had been more than just a shave; it was a celebration of my journey and the embrace of my true identity. With my sister by my side, we stepped into the lively streets of Goa, ready for the next adventure, confident and unafraid to express ourselves fully.
With my newly shaved head gleaming under the Goan sun, I felt an irresistible urge to capture this moment. I wanted to celebrate my bold look and share it with the world, especially in a way that combined my passion for yoga and my love for travel. The beach was the perfect backdrop—vibrant, serene, and filled with energy.
After a delightful afternoon exploring the local shops and soaking in the sun, I decided it was time for an impromptu photoshoot. I grabbed my sister and told her my idea. “Let’s head to the beach and take some pictures of me doing yoga poses in this new look! It’ll be fun, and we can use them for my social media and promotional materials for my yoga classes!”
“Great idea! You’ll look amazing!” she replied, her excitement mirroring my own. We made our way to a quieter spot on the beach, where the waves crashed gently against the shore, and the soft sand felt warm beneath our feet.
Once we found the perfect location, I rolled out my yoga mat, positioning it so the ocean waves served as a stunning backdrop. The golden hour was approaching, and the sky began to paint itself with shades of orange and pink, creating a magical atmosphere. I felt the gentle breeze on my skin, and I took a deep breath, centering myself before starting the shoot.
My sister got behind the camera, ready to capture my poses. “Okay, let’s start with some classic postures!” she called out, her voice full of enthusiasm.
I began with the tree pose, lifting one leg and placing it against my inner thigh, arms raised toward the sky. The cool breeze swayed my body slightly, but I found my balance, feeling grounded and strong. My sister clicked away, capturing the essence of my newfound freedom and the beauty of the moment.
“Beautiful! Now try the warrior pose!” she encouraged, and I transitioned smoothly into it, feeling powerful and fierce. The waves crashing in the background added to the energy of the shot, and I could see how my bald head caught the light, creating a striking contrast against the colorful sky.
As we continued, I experimented with various poses—downward dog, pigeon pose, and even a playful headstand. With each posture, I felt more liberated, more connected to my body, and more in tune with the energy of the universe. My sister kept snapping photos, her laughter filling the air as she encouraged me to try more creative angles.
“Let’s do something fun! How about jumping into a pose?” she suggested, and I couldn’t resist the challenge. I launched into a jump, landing gracefully into a crescent lunge, arms extended overhead. The joy of the moment was palpable, and I could feel the exhilaration coursing through me.
After a series of poses, we took a break to admire the photos. My sister flipped through the images, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “These are incredible! You look so confident and radiant! I love how your bald head shines against the backdrop of the beach!”
“Thank you! I can’t believe how freeing this feels,” I replied, a sense of pride swelling in my chest. “I want to showcase that confidence, not just for myself but also for others who might be considering a change or embracing their true selves.”
We continued to shoot until the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving a stunning array of colors in its wake. The golden hour was fading, but the memories we created would last forever. I felt rejuvenated, knowing that I had captured not only my appearance but also the essence of my spirit—a blend of strength, beauty, and authenticity.
As we packed up, I couldn’t wait to edit the photos and share them on social media, showcasing not just my bald look but also the empowering message behind it. This trip had transformed me in ways I could have never anticipated, and I was eager to inspire others to embrace their unique beauty and explore their own journeys.
Embracing my bald look transformed not just my appearance but also the trajectory of my yoga journey. With every class I taught, I felt a renewed sense of purpose and confidence. The shaved head, once a spontaneous decision, became a symbol of my commitment to self-exploration and authenticity.
Word spread quickly about my unique style and teaching approach, and soon, I was affectionately dubbed the “Yoga Panda.” The nickname stuck for several reasons: it captured my playful spirit, my love for travel, and my commitment to spreading joy and positivity through yoga. Much like the gentle and wise panda, I embodied calmness and strength, reminding my students to embrace their true selves.
My clientele grew as more and more students were drawn to my classes. They appreciated not just my expertise in yoga and pranayama techniques, but also the authenticity I brought to the practice. I incorporated elements of my spiritual journey into the sessions, sharing stories from my travels, including the transformative experiences from my trips to Amarnath and Vaishno Devi.
Each class became an exploration of not only physical postures but also of the mind and spirit. I led my students through various meditative practices, encouraging them to connect with their inner selves and to embrace their uniqueness, much like I had learned to do.
The shaved head, which initially felt like a bold choice, soon became a badge of honor. I reveled in the feeling of the sun on my scalp during outdoor sessions, and the simplicity of my grooming routine freed up time to focus on what truly mattered—my practice and my students. My new look often sparked conversations, with students expressing admiration for my confidence and willingness to embrace change.
As I continued to teach, I sought to deepen my own spiritual exploration. I found myself drawn to various retreats and workshops, often venturing to the serene hills of the Himalayas or the tranquil beaches of Goa. Each experience added layers to my understanding of yoga and spirituality, allowing me to connect with other seekers and share our journeys.
I also began collaborating with local wellness brands, offering classes that highlighted the importance of self-love and acceptance. The Yoga Panda brand evolved, incorporating not only my yoga classes but also workshops, retreats, and wellness products. I found fulfillment in inspiring others to embrace their individuality and to embark on their own journeys of self-discovery.
Through it all, I cherished the connection I had with my shaved head. It reminded me of the courage it took to make that choice, the joy of shedding old identities, and the empowerment that came from embracing my true self. Each day, I looked in the mirror and saw not just a bald head but a representation of strength, resilience, and a commitment to living life authentically.
As the Yoga Panda, I continued to thrive, both in my practice and my personal life, embracing every opportunity to explore, learn, and grow. With each student I taught, each adventure I embarked on, and each moment of spiritual exploration, I reaffirmed my love for my bald look and the journey it represented. Life had become an exciting adventure, one that I was ready to face with an open heart and a peaceful mind.
As the Yoga Panda journeyed deeper into this new chapter of life, something remarkable began to happen. The community around me wasn’t just growing—it was transforming. Students who attended my classes started forming their own connections, creating a circle of support and camaraderie that transcended the yoga studio walls. This community became a living embodiment of the values I cherished: authenticity, self-exploration, and joy.
One evening, after an outdoor sunset yoga session by the beach, a few of my long-time students approached me with an idea. They wanted to organize a retreat—something that extended beyond the typical yoga retreat. They envisioned a space where people could not only practice yoga but also dive into their own personal transformations, just as I had done. They wanted me to lead it, naturally, and call it “The Panda Path.”
The concept excited me. A retreat that wasn’t just about mastering the perfect pose, but about learning to embrace the messy, imperfect beauty of life. I began planning with an eager heart, thinking about the locations I could incorporate that had meant so much to my journey. The lush greenery of Kerala, the mountains of Himachal, or maybe even an international retreat in Bali, where the energy was serene yet powerful.
I spent months curating a program that combined my teachings of yoga, pranayama, and meditation with workshops on self-discovery, mindful living, and community building. I also invited some of my fellow yogis and healers—people I had met during my travels—to join as guest teachers. Each would bring a different dimension to the retreat, adding elements like sound healing, Ayurveda, and even creative expression through dance and art.
The first retreat took place in Rishikesh, a place often considered the spiritual heartland of yoga. Nestled by the Ganges, surrounded by ancient temples and the majestic Himalayas, the atmosphere felt like a perfect reflection of what “The Panda Path” stood for: a journey inward, toward inner peace and connection.
The participants ranged from experienced yogis to complete beginners, all eager to embrace transformation. Some were healing from past traumas, others were navigating major life transitions, and many were simply searching for clarity and purpose in a world that often feels chaotic. I could sense their nervousness as they arrived, unsure of what to expect, but that quickly faded as we began our sessions. I watched with joy as the group bonded, each individual shedding layers of fear and doubt, opening up to the possibility of change.
By the end of the retreat, I saw the same light in their eyes that I had discovered in myself years ago. There were tears, but not of sadness—tears of release, of letting go. There was laughter, too, and a new sense of trust in themselves and the world around them.
Word of the retreat’s success spread quickly. Soon, I found myself leading more retreats, traveling to new destinations, and creating unique, transformative experiences that helped people connect not just with their bodies, but with their spirits. I began to feel as though I had found my true calling—not just as a yoga teacher, but as a guide helping others discover their own paths to self-love and acceptance.
The “Yoga Panda” brand became something much larger than I had anticipated. It was no longer just about me or my shaved head, but about a movement toward embracing authenticity in every aspect of life. I started a blog, sharing my journey and the stories of those I met along the way. I collaborated with artists and musicians, infusing my yoga sessions with live performances that added an extra layer of magic.
Through it all, I remained grounded in the practice that had started it all. My bald head, a symbol of my commitment to embracing my truth, continued to remind me to walk my own path with courage and grace. And as the Yoga Panda, I was more than just a teacher. I was a guide, a friend, and a reminder to everyone I met that their unique journey was worth celebrating.
Life had truly become a beautiful and ever-evolving dance of exploration, one that I was endlessly grateful to be part of.
