Parvat Singh's oiled and well-massaged body glistened in the morning rays of the sun. He looked at his muscles with admiration. He was known as the pride of Panipat.
The masseur, his work done, sat in a corner enjoying the Malaiwali Lassi, from a tall brass glass. In Parvat Singh's home, everything was larger than life, right from his portraits to the hundreds of trophies that lined various shelves. He detested anything small, especially little children. His coach arrived punctually every day, and 'these pesky pests' chose to play outside his house at precisely the same time. The training was gruelling and their noise created too much distraction. Going to the next level was not easy.
Almost daily, he would shout at the brats through the window. "Keep quiet!" They would scamper away, eyes round with fear, screaming, "Mountain Man." They were back again the next day. It was irritating the daylights out of him.
The day grew hotter. It was time to go in, bathe and eat his breakfast. After gobbling down a dozen-egg omelet, a couple of Parathas swathed in pure Ghee, followed by a tall glass of milk and a half-an-hour siesta, and he was ready for the session.
This story is from the August 2023 edition of Yoga and Total Health.
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This story is from the August 2023 edition of Yoga and Total Health.
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