17/03/2025
Some weeks ago I shared a video from the Sharath Yoga Centre on Stories here on Instagram, you know the thing they copied from Snapchat. Seems like Stories are the main thing nowadays anyway, have been for years, posts aren’t the lifeblood of this platform the way they used to be,—but I digress. The video is a montage of practitioners busy practicing their hearts out in Mysore at SYC, beloved teachers attending to them, but what struck me right away was the mantra playing during the clips, and it is Sharath(ji)’s voice chanting the mantra. I only know it as “Karpur Gauram,” and my friend Ty Landrum was the first one to teach it to me. It was perhaps the first chant that brought unexpected tears to my eyes, a chant that feels… well, beyond what any words can describe anyway. I love that chant, and its resonance still gets me every time. I had been planning to write something about Sharath’s death, an unexpected and painful one, and I guess hearing his sweet voice chanting this mantra which I feel connected to finally stirred me to do it. It was just a few months ago I found myself in Miami walking around with him and an enthusiastic group, and at one point for a stretch of pavement it was just the two of us, and he was wonderfully down to earth. For years of my yoga journey I had only heard secondhand stories about Sharath, and many negative. I was negative too, for longer than I would like to admit, passing judgement on someone I had never met. This suited me back then because I fancied myself special, and anyway I was lacking the discipline to be what I thought a true Ashtangi had to be, so I could conveniently let myself off the hook. The blind faith I saw surrounding Sharath was off putting to me—and still is, but in my heart of hearts I knew that I was stopping short of finding out the truth for myself.
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