It was still muggy at dusk when we had come through just another manic day at training. We were sprawled and stretching our still sweating limbs on the soft grass of a relatively smaller rectangular playground that we often used for drills and games as against the larger one with a mud track and pits for different track and field purposes.
“Hot day ha?”, I said to my Girls. “We’ll be drinking lots of fluids before bed tonight.”
Sandali, who still seemed to have a couple of joules of energy inside her spoke, “Didi, we worked hard today, but my butt and back actually feel relieved of some of the soreness I was feeling at the start of the day…how did that happen?”
“That’s because movement is medicine Sandy. There are days when you need to rest to recover and days when you need to move to. All that movement today has actually done you good. The tensed muscles in your glutes and back may have found a release as you mobilized them for all the different reasons you did.”
“Hmm…that makes sense”, she said pensively.
I knew this conversation wasn’t over. Chatter rarely ever reaches a standstill when you’re with the Girls.
“I wonder how much better our moms would feel if they moved like us. They’re always moaning about aches and pains here, there and all over. They should come train with you Didi.”
Out of nowhere, Sandali had given us an idea that changed our Rural Outreach in Dhasa, Gujarat, forever.
The Girls and I exchanged knowing looks that erupted in a chorus, “Why don’t we train the Women here?!”
“Have any of you ever asked your mums, grandmas or aunties if they’d like to move with us?” I asked.
Sandali spoke first, “Not directly. But whenever I go home and tell mum about our day in training, she’s always intrigued and has said, more than once, that she would’ve loved to have been part of something like Junoon when she was my age. I show her all the new steps and prep I’ve learned and I can tell she would like to try these herself…”
“So, does she then? Dance or stretch or move in any way with you?”, I enquired.
“No didi, our mums…all the women in fact, are too shy to. They’ve never done anything like this and they fear what the other would think if they did.”
“So that’s it then. If we are to train the Women here, we have to reassure them that only good can come out of it; that movement is not something to be embarrassed of doing; that moving is going to make them healthier, fitter and happier; that they should all come together to do it!”
We were lucky to be having this conversation at a festive time of year, when all the women typically gather at night to perform rituals and sing hymns in praise of the elephant-headed Lord Ganesha. The Girls and I decided to meet at the spot where a lot of village women would congregate later that night. Junoon needed to be put up to them.
And so it was that on a moonlit night in September, about a year after we had first begun in this region, we stood before the warmest, sweetest and most vibrantly attired Women of Dhasa and demonstrated a Junoon session exclusively for an audience that watched so intently. The Girls spoke openly and genuinely about the benefits of every exercise and preparatory drill they perform in practice. I beseeched the Women to please come forth and take charge of their wellness and health by agreeing to be a part of our Junoon and thereby, a regular practice schedule that didn’t demand much of their time but would make that crucial, positive difference to their overall well-being.
We told them, over and over again, that prioritizing their fitness for a little every week was nothing to be ashamed of. They owed themselves, their bodies and their minds that much. Nothing anyone said or thought mattered. Taking care of themselves was as scientific and necessary as eating and sleeping or carrying out any of their daily functions. Just because something hadn’t been a part of their life until then was no reason why it shouldn’t be now…it was all for the better!
To our surprise, a bunch of Women instantly volunteered to experience a session with us, there and then. Sandali’s mum was part of this bunch as were a few more faces I could recognize because their daughters, who looked just like them, had been my babies for a while. The laughter had begun and it came because they were having so much fun moving. They were laughing with each other, occasionally teasing or praising one another for missing or nailing a move. They could’ve been a bunch of Girls in those moments. The ones I had been training there all this time…
Our demonstration had become their first ever and official session and before we knew it, schedules were being discussed.
We had a few things to iron out:
When and how often would they be moving with us?
How would we segregate the groups and how many would attend class at a time?
We resolved to split the groups up area-wise.
There would be a group of about 10-15 women training together on the basis of where they lived. This would also ensure individual and nuanced attention to every woman attending.
Class would happen at least twice a week.
Village homes in the areas identified with fairly large compounds or front yards would be used to conduct our sessions.
With everything settled then, the Girls and I made an exultant exit.
Junoon had just inducted multiple lots of Women into its Rural Outreach in Dhasa. They would begin to explore Classical Movement, look and feel healthier, without guilt or shame or any false notions planted in their subconscious for whatever reason.
It had been a long day, stretching well into the night. The Girls needed to go to bed and be re-energized for yet another thorough day in training tomorrow.
But there was one thing I needed to run past the Girls who, without us fully noticing, had become our official lieutenants on duty to now train the Women. They had earned their titles by putting The Junoon Method on display before the Women, helping correct postures where they needed to as the Women took their first class and most importantly, by being supportive of them as they broke out of their shells and decided to do away with age-old stigmas and misinformation. The Girls had today, helped our Women take a very large step – the platform for which had been denied to them because Women here, there and everywhere have, for aeons, been judged for making time for themselves.
The thing I wanted to run past them was their readiness for this thing they had gotten themselves readily into. Their schedules were going to get fuller now, with the inclusion of Women. Their already exhaustive day in practice would additionally involve running the Womens’ classes in different segments of the village. Were they truly ready for this? Or were they just excited by the idea initially? We didn’t want Junoon to be a momentary burst of passion. It had to endure. And endurance requires commitment followed by discipline. To show up to a commitment, day after day after day…
When I asked and told them my concerns whilst we were in session the following morning, they shot back:
“Didi, we want to do this! For our mums and sisters and aunts and so on and so forth…we know what a difference it can make. We saw it yesterday, on their faces, in their smiles. They should have what we do!”
“Alright then girl gang”, I said, “Your army just got bigger, our days longer and the Junoon, a lot stronger.”
Sandali and I exchanged a quick glance. It told me she was ready to work her butt off.
No ifs or buts.
She had after all (whether out of soreness or repair or both), given us a whole new reach on our Outreach, in the Women, here in Dhasa.
This is Junoon.
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